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Oct ’24 Monthly Prompt: Overheard
Word count: 1800 words
Title: FREEDOM
Elephants are led by an alpha female. Why should it be so different for humans?
Mom let Dad think he ruled the roost but our household was absolutely a matriarchy. Mom was the authority and we all feared her disapproval. Mother had many rules that we obeyed, and if we questioned her, there was swift punishment. It wasn’t until the age of twelve, when I began to visit the homes of friends, that I saw how other families lived.
Kids could access the pantry or refrigerator without asking, they could joke with their mom, even say no to her on some occasions. None of these things were tolerated in my house. As the oldest sibling, I returned to the nest and told my four brothers and sisters how others lived and we were all incredulous, and soon I became resentful towards my parents.
One day, I asked to go to Susie’s house and my mother, of course, drilled me as to my reason for wanting to leave the house. I made up the excuse that we needed to study for a math test and she approved of this. Next, Mom pulled out her address book and confirmed Susie’s home address and phone number, the name of her mother and asked if she would be home with us. Even though Susie lived one block behind us, and Mom already knew, she seemed satisfied in my verifying the information. As usual, I was expected to return within two hours, and not one minute later. My father supported her, telling me if I arrived home any later than six o’clock, I would miss dinner and would be grounded for a week for every minute I was late.
At Susie’s, we microwaved pizza rolls and I mentioned that I could only stay two hours. I told her about the conditions my parents gave me. Not realizing anyone overheard us, Susie’s older sister, Theresa, appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Serious? That’s child abuse, you know.”
Abuse? My parents loved us and never beat us. I knew having rules did not constitute child abuse.
“No, my mom is just very controlling.”
Theresa shook her head and spoke slowly to help me understand. “Controlling behavior is abusive behavior.”
“Oh.”
To defend my mother, I quipped, “Don’t you have rules? I think that’s called parenting.”
“I have a curfew.”
“What’s that?”
Theresa laughed. “Something I bet you never have.” She yanked open the fridge and helped herself to a can of Coke, something I was not allowed to do at home. As she pulled the top, the fizz taunted me. I imagined the forbidden items at our house, including ice cream and soda. Theresa leaned against the kitchen counter, and reached for an opened bag of Oreos and grabbed two of them.
“See, a curfew is when your folks tell you to be home by a certain time. And then if you’re a couple minutes late, it’s no big deal. They just want to know you’re safe so they can go to bed.”
Bed. My mother never seemed to sleep. She was at the kitchen table when us kids awoke, and she was in her living room recliner when we went to bed, and if we had to pee overnight, lights were on and she was watching television, wanting to know what we were doing.
Tossing her blonde teenage curls, Theresa announced, “See, my curfew is eleven. When I was your age, it was ten.” Theresa bounded from the room, disappearing down the hallway where family photos hung on both sides of the walls. I placed my hand on Susie’s shoulder.
“Ten at night?” She must be joking. Our bedtime was seven-thirty. “Susie, is that true?”
Susie nodded her head.
I pictured my own parents, waiting side by side on the couch, facing the enormous wall clock, waiting to see if I arrived by the designated hour. They were always ready to punish. Maybe this was, in fact, child abuse.
“Hey, let’s watch Top Gun. My brother just bought it.”
“What’s it rated?” I had to ask.
Susie scanned the back of the box. “PG.”
At my house, we were only allowed to watch G -rated movies unless my mother made an exception. I knew she would not have made an exception for this Tom Cruise film. Which of course, made it that much more desirable to watch.
“Okay!”
As I watched Susie pop the tape into the VCR, I calculated how late this would make me, considering a movie is typically two hours in length. Then I tried to mentally subtract how long I’d already been at Susie’s; nearly forty minutes now. Before my mouth could protest, something happened inside my brain.
What’s the problem here? I enjoy watching a movie and come home a little bit late. So what? Suddenly feeling empowered, I said, “Hey can I get a Coke and some Oreos?”
“Great idea!”
——-
Fully absorbed in the film, I wasn’t prepared for the credits to roll and find that it was now six thirty.
“Wow that was awesome.” Susie was grinning ear to ear. “Hey you should call your mom and see if you can spend the night.”
The look on my face must have revealed all my fears. Now that I had officially disobeyed my parents, the price would be unfathomable.
Susie glanced at the living room clock and shrugged her shoulders. “You’re not that late.”
“I might have to live here.” I joked. “There’s no way they’ll let me out again.”
My own laughter sounded crazy in my ears as it escalated into a cackle. From the kitchen, the phone rang. Oh, no.
Susie and I froze. “Don’t answer it.”
Theresa rounded the corner and lifted the receiver from the wall. “Hello?”
Her eyes found mine and she pointed at me. “Yes, this is she. Yes, how are you? Oh, yes Maggie is here. Sorry, we all lost track of time. I’ll send her home right now. My apologies. Or can she stay for dinner? We’d love to have her. Oh, I see. Another time, then.”
For a moment, I was grateful to Theresa. She pretended to be Mrs. Allen and seemed to be trying to help me, but of course it wouldn’t matter.
“I better go.”
Looking at Susie and Theresa I wondered if maybe I did come from an abusive home. On the walk up the hill, I considered ducking through a side street, walking to the park, and spending the night under a tree. Maybe if they thought I was kidnapped, they would just be happy to know I am alive and would not punish me.
However, my feet guided me directly to my home, working independently from my brain. As I turned the doorknob, I spied both parents on the couch, as expected. With all pride tossed aside, I felt tears brimming and I sputtered, “I’m sorry. We lost track of time.”
My father spoke. “It’s okay this time. Just don’t let it happen again.”
Mom followed with, “Susie’s mother invited you to dinner but your father brought home pizza, so you can do that another time.”
Humbled, I said, “Okay, thank you.”
Following my parents to the kitchen, I found the table surrounded by all my siblings and Jeff said, “About time! They made us wait for you!”
Pizza boxes were piled high and three two-liter bottles of Coke sat beside a stack of plates and napkins. My father pulled out a chair for me and said, “We eat as a family.”
Inside, I thought about my controlling mother and wondered if maybe it was just her way to love us all and make sure we were all safe. If we were running around all willy nilly with late curfews and eating her out of house and home, she might lose her mind. Maybe my parents weren’t abusive so much as just trying to manage a house full of kids the best way they knew how.
As I chewed my pepperoni pizza, I watched my brothers and sisters laughing and pestering each other, all in good fun. This was my family, like it or not, and as I learned other houses operated differently than mine, certainly didn’t mean my parents were abusive by comparison. Right?
Mom asked me, “So what were you doing that you lost track of time at Susie’s?”
Looking at my older brother, I knew Jeff would love the movie and I blurted out, “We watched Top Gun.”
No sooner than the words escaped my lips, my stomach knotted, knowing I’d been caught in a lie. The ultimate sin according to my mother.
Mom’s smile left her face, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, back straightening. My brothers and sisters became silent and stopped eating. “You weren’t studying for that test, then.”
Trying to save the moment, I stammered, “Well Susie forgot her book at school so …”
“You know how I feel about lies.”
My father pulled the plate of food away from me. “If things changed, you should have called your mother.”
With no one to help me, I simply said, “I’m sorry.”
My mother lit a cigarette and puffed on it once, then announced, “You deliberately lied to me and have proven you are not mature enough to have freedom. Go to your room and your father and I will decide your punishment.”
Angry now, I stood tall and said, “This is child abuse, you know. And Susie’s family thinks so, too.”
Mom’s eyes grew wide and her mouth opened, teeth clenching. “How dare you.”
Supporting my mother’s fury, Dad gripped my arm and hauled me away to the bedroom that I shared with my little sister, Norma. At the door, he put his face up to mine and said, “You better behave or you won’t like what happens.”
For some reason, my father’s anger and disapproval hurt much more than my mother’s. Tears spilled down my heated cheeks and I felt so small.
Crying on my bed, I wondered again if my parents were abusive. I couldn’t imagine this playing out the same way at Susie’s house – because it wouldn’t.
I decided to run away. I wiped my tears and opened the closet and found my duffel bag. I filled it with jeans, underwear, hairbrush, shirts, my favorite book, stuffed animal, and new deodorant. As quietly as I could, even with all the hubbub in the kitchen, I opened my bedroom window, then lifted the screen until the opening was clear. I peered down into the bushes, then threw my bag outside, and climbed through. Once on the side of the house, I hoisted my duffel over my shoulder and ran through the backyard, through the trees on our block, quickly disappearing into the night.