Mommy's Good Boy

Last night was not the best night for my sisters. Not for thirteen-year-old Erin, or Tina, who was eleven. Nor for the baby of the clan, Delilah. Although I didn’t see it last night, I know our mother issued quite the reckoning. Our mom was a day nurse who worked countless hours at the local hospital. She frequently complained about running back and forth on behalf of the doctors. Taking orders, obeying their commands. “They must think I’m their personal servant,” she would say. “The patients too,”. But when Nurse Belinda Davis stepped foot into 1063 Westchester Lane, she retained the authority of any of those doctors. And then some. Before Mom headed to her shift that morning, she distinctly told us to clean her house. Which did not mean simply sweeping floors and washing dishes. No, she meant white glove inspection worth of cleaning.
Erin was instructed to take on the bathroom. Tina was to clean the kitchen and fold the laundry Mom had just finished drying, and four-year-old Delilah had to pick up all the toys scattered on her bedroom floor then make her bed. Luckily for me, my only tasks were to discard the trash and wash the windows. I admit, being the only boy did have its perks from time to time.

“I’m telling you now. This place better spotless when I get back.” Mom advised before shutting the front door.

As soon as I heard Mom peeling out of the driveway, I got right on it. I was a man on a mission racing from room to room collecting trash bags like they were gold coins, and I was an avatar in Super Mario Bros game, aiming for the highest score. I passed Tina who lounged on the sofa with the TV remote in her hand channel surfing. Erin sat right next her.

“Don’t forget what Mom said.” I told them. I walked in front of the television and stood. “You know it’s going to be the first thing she checks.”

“Oh hush, boy! I’m trying to hear the TV,” said Tina.

“Yeah, would you move? Your daddy wasn’t a glass maker,” Erin added pushing me to the side of the television. “Besides, it’s only ten thirty. We’ve got plenty of time before she gets back.”

“Mm-mmm,” Tina nodded in agreement.

I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the Windex cleaner from underneath the cabinet. I slowly turned to my left seeing small eyes peeping from under the kitchen table “Boo!” shouted Delilah. “I scare you.”

“Delilah, go on and clean up your room before Mom gets home. You don’t want to be getting into any trouble.” I warned her. But she rolled those small eyes and blew raspberry at me. She was a lost cause too.

About twenty minutes later, when I was done with my chores, I laced up my tennis shoes and sprinted toward the front door. I was looking forward to playing Nintendo with my friends. Before I left, I reminded my sisters once more of their duties.

I arrived back home around 7:30. barely beating the streetlights to find a motionless Delilah facing the wall like she was frozen in time. Her eyes, the ones that rolled at me, now bore the residue of tears. Shaking my head, I walked over to her Tina in the kitchen. She was on her hands and knees plunging a scrub brush into a bucket filled with soapy water. Her sniffles and whimpers reminded me of an injured puppy. This could only mean one thing. Mom was home—early.

“She got us good.” Tina muttered, never lifting her head.

But she did not have to tell me. I knew exactly how our mother had worn my sisters out with her belt. I shuttered thinking back to the times I encountered Mom’s leathered friend. Her butt-whippings made the wrath of God seem like child’s play. I would not wish that type of punishment on my worst enemy.

Tina told me everything. How our mom came home already in a foul mood. Huffing and snarling from her day at the hospital, not to mention the traffic jam she suffered through. Tina said she was the first to get it because Mama immediately went for the kitchen. The stove hadn’t been wiped down, the dishes were still dirty, and so was the floor. Just that quick, Mom’s attitude went from bad to worse. After she dealt with Tina, she moved on the Lilah, who had not touched her bedroom. According to Tina, she saved her best whipping for Erin. As the eldest, she was supposed to know better.

I went back through the living room towards the stairway. From the bottom, I could see the bathroom light was turned on. I crept upstairs trying to be as quiet as possible. Tiptoeing pass the opened bathroom door, I saw Erin sweeping the floor with the same teary eyes our baby sister had. I got to Mom’s bedroom door. It was cracked ajar. I lightly knocked on the door hoping the sight of me did not worsen her fury. She opened the door completely. She stood as wide as the doorframe with her hands on both hips towering over me. She had not changed out of her nursing scrubs. At first her expression resembled that of a junkyard dog, then her mouth expanded into a grin. Her smile set me at ease. The coast was clear. She leaned toward me grabbing my chin with her ample hand. She granted me the sweetest forehead kiss any nine-year-boy could receive from his mother.

“Thank you, sweetie,” said Mom. She led me further into the bedroom and I climbed onto her queen-size bed. She handed me the TV remote, “We can watch whatever program you want to see tonight.” I smiled knowing it was not often Mom invited me into her bedroom. Let alone to watch her TV with her.

No, last night was not a good night for either of my sisters. But fortunately for me, I couldn't say the same.