Mama Says

Nothing ever got past ma. She always said my father was a fool.

Well she called him sperm donor in her rants when the Jim Beam got her in a mood. He was a crazy loser who would only lead me to a bad place one day.

One day may be this one if said Sperm Donor had anything to say about it. Striped bedsheets and faded lamp light cast eerie shadows on the crystal like case in my hands. Showing the Eiffel Tower surrounded by winter snow.

All that’s heard is silence.“Do you like it?” The fool said, shifting on the bed next to mine. I shrug, it was pretty. But who took a gift from a fool? No telling where he got it, could have stolen it from a babe or a stroller.

“Where’d you get it?”A creak above from the slowly spinning fans let loose dust that dances in the air between us. He meets my gaze with the same muddy brown eyes, wide blown pupils seeking out my soul.

“Bought it, I told your ma I have a job now. Thought this would make a good birthday gift. You—you told me once you loved Paris right?”Blurry memories that are too slippery to grasp try to rise to the surface but I don’t like them, let them sink.

“My birthday’s in March.” Again we see silence.

“I knew that, yeah. Well how—how’s school?”

“I hate it, I like some things I guess. My teachers stay late to help me some times.” I scratch my neck. The fool may as well been a strange combination.

“Which subjects you struggling in?”And thus we went, playing a game of which rules I didn’t know. Back and forth, he asked and I answered. Time ticked too slowly for my comfort. But finally time was on my side and mama knocked on the motel door.

“Jesus, Liam. If I had known you were meeting my son here—“

“Our son,” he cut in. His tone hurt my ears. My eyes found the floor. Dirty green carpet stared back at me.

“Oh, now he’s your son? Where were you when he was born? Where were you when he needed a doctor when he got the measles?”

“You know this—I was in rehab!”

I twisted the snow globe in my hands, the smooth glass a soothing balm.

“You’re a fool, if not for the courts you’d never see Jimmy again!”

A palm hit skin and I look up. The fool rubbed his cheek, tears in his eyes as he nodded.

“In front of our son?” Did his lip quake? Mama told me men don’t cry. But only a fool would do it in front of Mama.

Her laugh seemed to strike him again. “Come on Jimmy, let’s leave this fool to cry.”

I didn’t move. Instead I stared at the fool, and he stared back. He had scruff on his cheeks from days without a shave. He was a thin man, probably didn’t eat much. And yet he got me this snow globe. Months late for my birthday.

When I did stand, I held it tighter in my hands, letting memories of another time wash over me. “See you next Friday, Liam.” That sounded right, that was a start.

His tears seemed to dry up and a smile lit his face like the 4th of July. “Yeah, see you son.”

The drive home after that was quiet but I didn’t mind, I just watched the snow fall in the snow globe.