The Partial Road Chapter Eight

Toward the end of first grade, Mr. Neenan took us up to 6th grade history, science, and fractions. When Mom saw what her six year old son could do, she wept. (continued from chapter seven)

I didn’t know what the hell was happening.

But Mom wept

I get perfect scores on every test and quiz. I could out-school any of the big kids in our neighborhood and the kids of Mom and Dad’s friends. But Mom wept.

It didn’t occur to me until much later that Mom hadn’t slept for over 8 months. It didn’t occur to me that Mom loved me so much that she expressed it in tears. It didn’t occur to me that this was the first time in her life that she felt powerful.

The second grade was just as good. On the last day of first grade, Mom hugged Mr. Neenan long enough to make him blush (and adjust his pants). Before walking out of the mystical universe that was my class room, Mom asked, “Who would you entrust Charles to?”

Her students glow

Mr. Neenan thought for a moment. Actually, he used all of that moment to regain his composure. “She’s not in your district. But the most inspired 2nd grade teacher I know is Mrs. Grantham. Her students glow,” Mr. Neenan said his last words I’d ever hear him say. That summer he and his wife and four year old daughter died. You heard about it.

Turns out Mrs. Grantham taught in a public school. I heard talk between my parents all summer that neither of them would have to works nights anymore. They went back and forth. Mom wanted to go back to school. She wanted to finish what she’d started at 18. Dad agreed to keep working nights.

Whenever their paths crossed, they would fight.

He punched a hole in the kitchen wall

“You are such an idiot! How could you let him do that to you? Is that all he got away with?” I heard Dad scream at Mom one night. He punched a hole in the kitchen wall. His hand started bleeding.

“How was I supposed to know! He’s your friend! Do all your friends disrespect you?”

“Oh, no. Even if Brett worshiped me as a God, you showing up every week to pick up Charlie’s mail would make any man stab me in the back!”

Mom stepped right up to Dad’s face

“You’re the one who suggested Brett… Wait. Was that a compliment?” Mom screamed back at Dad. Her expression was kind of wierd.

Mom stepped right up to Dad’s face, “Let’s argue in the bedroom. It’s not healthy for Charlie to see us fighting.”

For the first time in a long time, I saw Mom and Dad hold hands. Actually, it was Mom dragging Dad by the hand.

“Charlie, you can watch that one monster movie you like. You know, the one I told you you couldn’t watch anymore. You can even watch it as loud as you want,” Mom said before Dad slammed their door.

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