FortySixtyFour
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RE: Trailer Trash 47 pt 1
🕑 Added 2022-11-17 20:21:52 +0000 UTCJoshua’s rented skates clunked across the laminated wood of the roller rink in steady strides as he built up more speed for rounding the far curve. Because the skaters all whirled about in a giant clockwise oval, there were two long straightaways where he could do a really cool long glide. With one last heaving pump of his legs, he hunched down low, imagining himself more aerodynamic as he traversed dozens of feet in a matter of seconds. This was, in his opinion, one of the coolest birthday party things ever.
His feet hurt—quite a lot, actually—because the rentals didn’t fit him that well, but that was already within his expectations, as the single pair of roller blades the Moore boys shared back home rarely ever fit any of them. They’d started out as a Christmas present for Samuel to grow into, and two years later only Nicholas would even try to wear them. That was mostly fine with him—while roller blades were cool, street hockey back home was easier to play barefoot or in sneakers.
Skating like this, though? With dozens and dozens, maybe even a whole hundred people at once was amazing. With the lights down and only spotlights and disco ball scatter illuminating their broad stage, it was easy to pretend he was in space as he maneuvered around the slower skaters and careened around the rink. As the youngest, Joshua had shorter legs and some trouble keeping up with his brothers, but when they shot past him and moved on ahead that just meant for a few minutes they were actually coming up behind him, instead. As if he was back in the lead. It was a strange new dichotomy, but a welcome one that he embraced wholeheartedly.
A weird song that just seemed to be a robot singing the words intergalactic, planetary over and over again to a bassy thump played across the loudspeakers, and Joshua caught a glimpse of Matthew and Casey skating together off to one side. They were both cool—back at the theater they’d given each of the boys a fistful of quarters to go through the arcade there with. Joshua still had all of the coins in his pocket. He’d been so gridlocked with indecision over which game to spend the precious money on, that he wound up just going from cabinet to game cabinet and just watching each of the demo screens play. Then he wound up just watching over Matthew and Casey’s shoulders as the teenagers sat in the neat Cruisin’ USA chairs and raced each other, right up until it was time to go into the movie.
Should I give all the quarters back? It kinda feels like stealing, since I didn’t use any of them for what I was supposed to.
“Tag,” a voice called, and Joshua felt someone’s hand smack across his shoulder.
With a grin and a mighty struggle Joshua almost managed to catch up before a smirking Bobby rolled on ahead and out of sight beyond the many other skating people—there was simply no chance of catching him. After all, Bobby wasn’t a kid. He was a teenager. It was weird but cool seeing Tabitha’s teenager friends again. Alicia was fun and playful with them, and though Elena was more strict and grown-up like, she at least remembered all of the boys from Halloween and addressed them by name.
But, she like, can’t let loose and have fun with us, Joshua thought as he wobbled on his feet, shifting from skate to skate as he rolled on. Because she has to be all ‘more adult’ when she’s around other teens. That’s gotta be tough. Kids have it the best—we can just be kids. Back at the playground, when no one else was around, Elena could just be a kid with us and play and it was great. Here she’s gotta be all TEENAGER and worry about appearances and impressions and posturing stuff.
It was all just a dumb act. Even though it was dumb, though, Joshua felt that he understood it completely. He wasn’t some little kid, after all. He had a firm grasp of how stupid and lame the little first-graders acted compared to kids like him that were in second grade. The programs at school said that it was something called peer pressure, Samuel snorted and had said it was just growing up, and Joshua had found himself thinking about it a lot.
Tabitha was way more like… RESERVED, around her teenager friends, Joshua decided. Or maybe because tonight it’s around the adults. She’s REAL when she’s just with us boys, but then sometimes when I see her with the adults—it’s fake. She feels fake.
Grandma Laurie only ever seemed to see the soft-spoken and kind, conscientious girl act that Tabitha put on. When Tabby was around her own parents it was even worse, there was some additional degree of pretend that Tabitha put into her act that was even less genuine. Here with these other adults—Joshua was hazy on all of their names—it was like there was almost no way any of them would ever have a chance of getting to know the real Tabitha.
They always think we don’t pick up on these kind of things, the boy wanted to roll his eyes. Which is just as dumb. Just ‘cause we’re KIDS doesn’t mean we’re not paying attention to any—
Joshua misstepped trying to direct his skates into the next curve and lost his balance, his left foot rolling backwards out from under him. His elbow and forearm caught the floor a moment before his chin did, and his body even slid forward a few inches before coming to a stop.
“Fuck—watch out,” A guy swore, narrowly skirting around Joshua’s accident. “Christ.”
“Sorry,” Joshua blurted out, clutching at his face and struggling to get back up.
The rink was all of the sudden scary with motion as he turned to see the flow of skating traffic hurtling towards him rather than streaming along with him. The moment he managed to get both sets of wheels beneath him they immediately went out from under him again, dumping him back on his butt. Panic rose up in his chest before he could stifle it back down, and Joshua was just thinking of trying to scramble on hands and knees off the rink and out of the way of all of the oncoming people when he realized someone was hurtling right towards him. Joshua was already flinching back when the woman dropped into a crouch—still skating, and then effortlessly braked with a purposeful application of her heel stop, coasting to a neat stop right over him.
“Hey, little kiddo,” Mrs. Macintire said. “You okay?”
“Sorry,” Joshua stammered, holding up one hand. “Sorry—I just, I fell. I was trying to get back up. Sorry.”
“You’re okay,” Mrs. Macintire gave him a quizzical smile he couldn’t quite make out in the poor lighting of the skate area. “You’re okay?”
“I’m—yeah?” Joshua answered, confused. She didn’t seem angry at him at all—had she not seen him fall? “I didn’t mean to. Sorry.”
“Well we never mean to, but sometimes we fall anyways,” Mrs. Macintire said, taking his hand and checking his wrist movement. “Why are you sorry? No boo-boos? No breaks or fractures or anything? Does this hurt?”
“I’m—” Joshua paused. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
He wasn’t sure how to articulate what was wrong here—this wasn’t his mom, why would she care? If he broke any bones, she wouldn’t have to pay for it. She was one of the mothers organizing the party thing, but she didn’t seem mad at him for falling down and being in the way or maybe messing up things or getting them in trouble. She was right here down on one knee next to him, right in the middle of this side of the rink—as if she was shielding him from the skaters passing by this way.
“You sure?” Mrs. McIntire gave him an uncertain look. “Thought I saw you conk your chin a bit, there. Can you gimme a big smile—so I can make sure you didn’t lose any teeth?”
Joshua bared his teeth for a moment. He didn’t think he’d lost any, but—oh, she was teasing him. This woman was weird. Was this how other moms treated their kids? Comforting and… nice? It was all too easy to imagine his own mother screaming and swearing at him just for getting in everyone’s way. The realization filled him with a sense of loss that made him feel more winded than the fall had.
“Is he okay?”
That Hannah girl tottered over on her skates to grab at the lady’s shoulders for balance. This was the little girl that from the family Tabitha was staying with—she was cute but standoffish, and refused to look at him. The boys were all supposed to be polite to her, but they didn’t really know how to… so it was easier just to avoid Hannah completely. They weren’t utter heathens, it was just that they only really knew how to treat adults respectfully, and Hannah wasn’t an adult—she was a kid just like them. How in the heck were they supposed to act towards her? Call her ma’am?
“He’s okay,” Mrs. Macintire promised. “You’re okay, right? Give you a hand up?”
With surprising strength, the woman took him by the hand and hefted him back up. His flailing skates skidded out again, but it didn’t matter, because the woman’s arm looped around his side and prevented him from going anywhere. Embarrassed and confused, Joshua grabbed her hand with both of his and finally regained his footing.
“Alright, kiddo—I’m launchin’ you,” Mrs. Macintire said. “You ready?”
“I—yeah,” Joshua said.
Then the hand released his, and with a steady push on the small of his back he was off, skating forward amid the flow of other skaters like he had been before. Like everything was normal. Well, except now his feet really hurt, the stiff lip of the rental skates had dug into his ankles when he went down, and his hand had that stinging numbness that needed shaken out a bit. He was okay.
Except, we’re really not okay, are we? Joshua still felt weirded out. My brothers and me. Mom wouldn’t have EVER done that. Any of that. Helped me back up, or, or made sure I was okay, or anything like that. If she’d have even noticed at all, which she wouldn’t have. She wouldn’t have noticed or cared, except to like, yell at us.
He’d already internalized that back during Thanksgiving, Tabitha had picked him up and carried him to the back room and started crying because the four boys didn’t have a great mom. And, maybe their mom really wasn’t a great mom, it was still a contentious subject among the brothers and maybe ultimately a moot point, because so what? She was their mom. Other moms, like the ones on TV in cartoons and shows—they were fake, and didn’t count. Someone just made them up anyways, they weren’t even real.
Joshua didn’t realize that his pace had slowed down until he saw the woman skating on past him while holding hands with Hannah, and he couldn’t help but give them a sullen stare. Somehow or other, the idea that maybe their mother Lisa Moore wasn’t a great mom had never made the full leap to wait, maybe we actually have a TERRIBLE mother until just this moment. The thought made him want to do more than cry—it made him want to bawl, to go crazy, to throw a tantrum, to push and shove and fight his older brothers over it until they each understood.
Maybe they already understood, and that was somehow worse.
“You fell, ha-ha,” Nicholas pointed as he skated past, in another one of his Nelson impressions from the Simpsons.
“Smooth move, ex-lax,” Samuel called, swiping at Joshua as he went by.
It’s not fair, Joshua glared, flicking his stinging hand out one last time and then rubbed where he’d hit his chin with his sleeve. It just—isn’t. And stupid Aiden taking mom’s side, that’s dumb. Tabitha UNDERSTOOD. She’s the one who was saying it, was saying our mom’s not really a mom at all, that she doesn’t get to just come back and try to act like a mom.
The fun had been sapped out of skating for now, and Joshua huffed and started circling wide towards the outer edge of the rink where he could step back off onto the floor. He wanted to stomp over and find Tabitha, because she understood. Even if all he ever said was that he was upset because he fell down, so what? Tabitha would still care.
It was okay if what he was so upset about wasn’t actually falling down, that didn’t even matter.
( 46, The big birthday bash. | RE: Trailer Trash | Next, 47 pt 2. )
/// We're still at the party! For this and maybe one more segment before we move on.
Comments
George Warner
My parents practiced “spare the rod; spoil the child” at least monthly… often more. I can so relate to Joshua & the other boys here.
Youkai-sama
Hmph. That feeling of sheer, unmitigated, LOSS when you realize that your mom is a shit-bird.
