“Good job.” Dad steps forward, ruffling my brother’s hair before taking him under his arm. “See, you’ll learn just like your brother did.” Romeo’s left side of his mouth turns into a smirk, his eyes looking at Dad with admiration.
“Let’s get home. Your mother is probably wondering where we are,” he says, opening the car door. I flick my cigarette off into the distance like I’ve seen Dad do a million times and climb into the front seat. A sense of confidence I didn’t have before has me sitting a little taller, like I could protect my little brother and mother if I needed to. Resting my arm along the back of the seat, I glance at Romeo in the back who is looking at his hands with a grim look. I sigh, knowing I’ll have to sleep in his room tonight to keep him from having nightmares. But for the first time, it doesn’t feel like a chore, rather than a responsibility.
Is this what it feels like to be a man?
Coming into the front door of our house, my feet bring in clumps of dirt, and the smell of Romeo’s puke is so pungent I can’t help but wrinkle my nose. Thank god dad had the windows down in that car or I might have puked as well.
Mom greets us with a horrid look on her face. Her dark hair rolled in curlers, and a white robe tied tightly around her thin frame. Looks like she was getting ready for bed. Maybe with Romeo sick and her tired, she won’t figure out I was smoking tonight.
“What the hell happened?” She sneers, looking both me and my brother over. Neither Romeo nor I say a word. Dad taught us to not be snitches. In our world, women don’t get answers. Dad gives her that reply regularly. If she presses on, I’ll just have to be the man and remind her of her place. Her dark eyes land on Romeo and she grips him by the chin. “This was a new shirt, it’s ruined now.” Her brows narrow in before looking at me. “I smell smoke, who was smoking?” she sniffs into the air reminding me of a dog. I hold my breath hoping she doesn’t smell it coming from me.
I’m not scared of Mom, but when she punishes us it’s pure torture. She grounds us or makes us do chores for weeks. I’d rather get slapped across the face from dad and get it over with so I can go play Fortnite.
“Boys, go wash up and get to bed,” Dad orders and we push past Mom to head upstairs before she can interrogate us any further. Our father will handle her inquisition and I’m thankful in the moment for the reprieve. I stop at the very top of the staircase, watching to see what dad says to Mom, and how he gets himself out of this one. He’s a very smart man and says just the right things.
“Emilio, tell me you didn’t!” Her voice cracks, her head shaking back and forth dramatically. “Tell me you didn’t take them on a job.” She covers her mouth with both hands, her heart spilling out onto the floor.
“Doesn’t much matter where they were or weren’t. The boys are growing into men and they know what’s right,” he says without a care in the world, walking farther into the house he goes into the kitchen where I can’t see him. I hear the fridge open before slamming shut.
Mom stares at him in disbelief. She’s not letting up so easily tonight. “They’re just boys, goddamn it! This is the time they learn empathy, and—and to enjoy their innocence!”
Dad scoffs at her like she’s being ridiculous and walks back to where Mom is standing by the door.
“Emilio, you keep doing this, and those boys are going to grow up to be monsters.” Tears run down her cheeks, her finger pointing upward to where me and Romeo are. Luckily, neither adult looks up to find me eavesdropping.
The word monster rolls around in my head. Clearly my mother doesn’t understand the business. She doesn’t understand the rules. I’m not a monster for doing a job… or maybe I am. I don’t feel like a kid my age should, and I definitely don’t do things any ten-year-old would.
Dad cracks the beer in his hand open and stops right in front of her, taking a loud sip and says proudly.
“Let’s hope so, huh?”Leona
Six Years OldHiding in the closet, I clasp my hand over my mouth to keep from giggling. The urge to pee has me cross my legs as I nestle into the back of daddy’s closet. The smell of his leather shoes and cologne makes me think of him and excited for him to come home. He’s late again. I hide in my parents’ room every night before bed and dad has to find me before he can sleep. It’s a game I’ve played with him since I can remember. My leg starts to tingle from falling asleep so I stretch it out making sure to be careful not to make any noise, he’ll be home any minute and I don’t want to give away my hiding spot. The small space begins to get stuffy, and minutes tick by. Laying my head on the wall, I wait, looking through the crack of the door for my father to step foot into his room at any second. But he never does and I fall asleep.