I could readily see the gates of our beautiful home. I was always excited to go home and hug my Mom very tightly because of one reason—she’s the best mom in the world. How could I question the love she’s giving me? I was never left unsatisfied. She would always talk about my Dad, who had died seven years ago when I was three.
That was before. Now, things had changed. Mom wasn’t the Mom I knew before. We were so happy back then until the time when Mr. No Good came into our lives. He’s the worst thing that ever happened to my world, and maybe also to Mom, I had hoped.
At that time, the photo of my Dad was the only reminder that I wasn’t alone. I had personified his photo as my real living father. I always asked him to answer those math problems for me. And with no regret, he always answered. Dad then was my best friend.
I tried once to make fun of No Good by spraying his overcoat with a cockroach killer. It made great success because it ruined his business meeting. The sad fact was that I was punished. But I explained to Mom that it was of Dad’s request.
“Your Dad’s request!” said Mom, surprised. “Oh my dear, what’s in to you? Dad had long been gone. I told you that so. He died when you were three, seven years ago! Don’t you understand?”
“It was also you,” I defended, “who told me that Dad is always here with us. And you said to me you are only for him, and Dad’s only for you. If you just know Mom, Dad’s crying.”
“But…”
“I saw him cry yesterday in the photo. He was so helpless.”
“That does it!” Mom was anxious. “I’ll keep that photo away from you. It might cut the lunacy out from you.”
It was a mistake arguing with my beautiful Mom. That was a mistake for me because the next day, I couldn’t find Dad in my room anymore.
Time passed by and the day I dreaded arrived. At eight o’clock in the evening, Mom and that man hurriedly went into the living room where I was. They announced the worst news I’ve ever heard.
“My son, we have good news for you,” said Mom. “Guess what it is.”
“We’ll go on vacation without him! Well, that’s good,” I said.
Mom showed a feeling of resentment towards me. But I didn’t care anymore. I did hope it’s not about the thing I was thinking they’d supposed to tell.
“Darling,” started No Good, “you’re not a small boy now, are you?” He said it with a twitch on his abnormally large lower lip. “Well, since you’re already ten years old, I reckon you might as well need time for yourself. So, we’re putting up a plan…”
“I won’t do it!” I said.
“But honey dear,” insisted Mom. “It’s not about you washing the dishes this weekend. It’s about me and Kurt! We were married yesterday. Aren’t you glad for the both of us?”
All I could say at that moment of torment was “I hate you, I hate you both!”
I couldn’t face them, not with my happiness in this home drifting away. So, I ran as fast as I could to, to, to where? I didn’t know. They had done much. I’d had enough. I knew what would happen after the damn secret wedding. They’d leave me here to be taken care by one of Mom’s friends. I’d be left alone while the two of them go for vacation somewhere in the shore. I knew how I’d be sent to do tasks I never did before. This wasn’t the life of a ten-year-old. I should have been with Mom, walking at the zoo and feeding the elephants. But…
Hey, I’m ten years old now. I’m of age to know what to do. With that, I dashed to the nearest room—my Mom and Dad’s room. I turned the knob. It clicked open. I stepped towards the locker beside the bed. I pulled the handle of a drawer. And beneath the beam of the autumnal moon that peeped through the glass window, I glared at Dad’s photo seemingly alive than ever before. He was frowning. Dad, it will be alright now. I’ll save you from this dark locker...
I stood up, gripped Dad tightly. In the face of all, for the very first time, Dad spoke. I was taken aback. And after some time, we easily got along. I told him everything. I knew he was upset. But then he told me exactly what to do.
It was eight in the morning. I could smell the fresh breeze rushing through my face. Everything was back again to normal. Mom was only for Dad, and Dad for Mom. My happiness too was restored. I could picture my greatest dream, the three of us walking along the shore at the break of dusk, coming to reality. This is how it’s supposed to be.
As I reached the living room, I saw large men walking to all directions. They may be the cops, I could tell. But I didn’t understand why they’re here. Then I saw two cops carrying a familiar body wrapped in red-stained clothing. I saw in it that abnormally large lip. I hated the scene so I went outside.
There I saw more cops. Our front yard was bordered with yellow tapes that I once saw in a movie. I walked further, and in the vicinity of our beautiful gate, I saw Mom near a fat cop. I’d never seen Mom so downtrodden. She was sitting on the ground and weeping so hard. I couldn’t help but overhear her remorse.
“Don’t worry, Ma’am,” consoled the cop. “They can’t touch your son. He’s still too young to know what he’s doing.”
And with those words, Mom sobbed in full strength. In her greatest effort, she replied with the words I would never in my life understand.
“THAT’S EXACTLY,” she wailed, “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT THEY TOLD ME SEVEN YEARS AGO WHEN MY SON WAS THREE!”
