Asunder

MONKEY IN THE MIDDLE

I LOOKED AROUND TO SEE IF ANYONE WAS WATCHING. Later I made the mistake of socialization.

For the most part there was Mother and Sister and I. They both would call me the man of the house, although everyone knew better.

When I say everyone I mean Mother and Sister and me.

Growing up I was not entirely friendless.

Certainly an array of people, relationships fostered, dissolved. Weaknesses discovered and exploited. Action sometimes brought consequence.

As youths we would stick an unfortunate in between two of us and toss a ball back and forth just over his head. Monkey in the middle, we’d taunt.

Mother would often accuse Sister and me of wrong-doing. Mother’d say, Who broke the needle on Grandmother’s Victrola? Sister’d say, Not I said the blind man to the deaf mute.

Sister’d also say, This is not a dress rehearsal.

Those are the two things I remember her saying. Sister wasn’t much of a talker. I think she may have spoken some with Mother, though. They always seemed to be in cahoots with each other, like it was them against the world.

I believe the second thing she said was intended as motivation to tackle some obstacle I had successfully been avoiding.

But that must have been years later.

I was mistaken when I said Mother would accuse Sister and me of wrong-doing. It was Mother and Sister who would accuse me of wrong-doing.

I’m not certain if Sister didn’t talk to me because I’d done something to her. I don’t remember having done anything that would have prompted her to not speak to me but women are peculiar that way. She may have been shy, too.

There was never any discussion as to why things were the way they were. Why didn’t Sister talk to Brother, for instance?

And how exactly did Father die? If he did, in fact, die.

Mother didn’t encourage us to play together. Go play with your friends, she’d often say. Leave Sister alone, was another thing she said quite a bit. I’d spend most of the time in my room doing I don’t remember what. What went on in Sister’s room I don’t know either. Although I am assuming when I was in my room doing I don’t remember what she was in her room doing likewise.

And when I say the mistake of socialization I mean it in the broadest sense imaginable.

The time when a kid named Brian got hit in the head with a rock thrown by a kid named Benny. It got him just above his left eye, which ballooned up three or four inches. We all thought he’d die, but he didn’t.

Mother’d also say, You’ll see how they turn out.

Mother was present in the house most of the time. I’d smell the cigarette smoke and hear the television going from my room.

I’d stick my head out into the hallway. I’d listen. I wanted to know what went on when I wasn’t around. There were few phone calls, fewer visitors. No family to speak of, only Grandmother, who’d stay with us from time to time and whose Victrola I broke playing a Fats Domino record.

Otherwise there were occasions and events. Happenstances. Balls flying overhead, out of reach.

I’m not sure specificity is necessary.

This one did this, that one did that, this happened then that happened and where the hell are you?

Another thing is I’m not someone who looks for reasons or excuses or the causal relationships between experience and behavior.

Does the fact that no one’s watching change what is not being watched?

I’ve come to learn that Sister was unexpected but I was planned on. What that means exactly is unknown.

As a child I was rarely seen and seldom heard.

And I’m sure the memories of childhood would be pleasant ones if I had them.

The blind man and the deaf mute didn’t have to be dragged into this, after all.

What I think I remember is that my bedroom was situated between Mother’s and Sister’s and I smelled smoke and heard the television going.

I’ve come to realize that what goes on when I’m not around is none of my business.

Mostly.