As Luck Would Have It

23) Unable to Runaway

The radio played loudly in a boy's bedroom of a dirty apartment in the Bronx. Four young boys gathered around a television set, making a great deal about how awesome a new video game was. One of the boys was really good, and he often came by to play the game with his friends, even letting him sleep over just so he didn't have to walk home in the late-night hours. Today was no exception, he had arrived at the apartment Friday night, and it was already Sunday morning. He only rested for sleep, which amounted to 22 hours, due to his lack of sleep at home. Finally, a knock came to the door and the father of the apartment stood in the door-frame. He informed the boy that his parents called and said that they would be over to pick him up if he didn't come home immediately. It took a lot of persuading from his friends, but he finally packed his stuff and went home.

The boy walked through the front door of his small house in one of the older neighborhoods. Before he could take off both of his shoes, his parents came marching up to him. "Where have you been Lon?" his mother shouted with some blood dripping from her lips.

"Out like usual, momma" the boy replied in a passive tone.

"Out playing that Halo shit with those boys again, aren't ya?" his father added "instead of doing your homework and chores, like your supposed too."

"Whatever," Lonnie snapped back as he walked passed the pair, "I'll get to them." Within an instant, young Lonnie felt a crushing grip on the back of his neck. He felt himself fold over slightly from the force and heard the thundering sound of his father's voice echo throughout the house.

"Don't be smart with me boy. Do we need to have a talk again?" Lonnie never really liked to 'talk' with his dad, even though he didn't give him much of a choice most of the time. He would find himself in these uncomfortable circumstances after dinner or he would barge into his room while he was sleeping to express his thoughts.

He sniffled a bit before saying that he didn't want to have another talk. "Exactly," his father fired back and releasing his grip, "now get yo ass in your room. I expect that homework done when I get back from the game." He grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the house, leaving Lonnie and his mother standing quietly in the main hallway.

"Goddamnit, Lonnie Thompson Lincoln," she exclaimed, "why must you always be away for so long." Tears were streaming down her bruise cheeks, and her lips shivered as she spoke.

"You know exactly why momma," he retorted.

"You know your father is a very impatient man."

"I know I know, and I have to wonder how is it that you put up with him for the past 14 years."

"Your daddy has been nothing but protective of us for as long as I've been with him." Lonnie scoffed at this show of affection and proceeded to the staircase, while his mother continued to lecture. "It may not seem like it, but he truly cares for us."

"I can't believe you're seriously saying this shit" he groaned as he ascended the stairs.

She shouted up back up to him, "He's a good man, Lon..."

"A good man because he beats me?" he said turning around quickly atop the staircase. His posture was firm, his abdomen slightly crunched trying to keep himself contained. His hands were in tight fists, and he felt like connecting them with something to let his anger out. He breathed deeply as he stared down at his scornful, yet guilt-filled mother. "Answer me mom, is he a good man because he beats me? Is he a good man because he beats you? What about him make him such a good man."

Lonnie's mother's head hung so low, she could've been a hunchback. The expression on her face was one of massive confusion and regret. Her bruised eyes sparkled in the little streams of tears that were running quickly as she tried to hold them back. "Lonnie, I know. Ok..., I know. I know that his actions don't make him a good man, but I need you here with me."