Sometimes you just go through a day because it is there, in the way. Projecting life will be better on the other side of tomorrow. That is not natural. It is something imposed. Like the restraint of handcuffs as you make your way to prison. Or the harsh look that jars you into feeling you would be better off dead.
Once removed, you look out at daytime starlight. Confined by a pane of glass, surrounded by the dank smell of musty air, you see and know outside without being with it. A hope and yearning comes. Is it better out there?
“No you can't go outside and that is final.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
“But I saw Tommy Asher on his bike. His Mom let him go out.”
“I'm not Tommy Asher's Mom.”
“I know.”
“What is that supposed to mean. Are you being fresh with me again? Don't make me punish you like I had to the last time.”
“I didn't mean anything I was just saying...”
“Wait till your father gets home. Maybe we'll see what he has to say about it.”
“I'll be good. I'll…”
“Don't push me.”
“No mother.”
“Why don't you watch some TV?”
“There's nothing on now.”
“Why don't you read a book?”
“I can't concentrate.”
“Well you better find something to do, or I'll find something for you to do.”
“Okay.”
Mathew Grady went to his room and closed the door. He sat on his bed thinking. Now what? Why does she have to be like that? I didn't do anything.
Mathew hops off the bed and puts his nose on the cold glass of his window. He breathes on it and makes a foggy cloud, then begins to draw an angry face on the haze with his finger.
When I get older I'll get rich and famous and never come back here again. She will be sorry she was so mean to me, but it will be too late. I'll get out there. Just you wait and see.
Mathew unlatches the lock on the window and opens it a crack. He flattens his head on the windowsill and breathes in the deep outside air. The cold mass fills his lungs. He now remembers he has lungs and breathes deeply again. A knock bangs through the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
The bedroom door opens and Mother glares at him.
“Close that window. Don't you know the heat is on?”
“I forgot.”
The window closes.
“Lock it.”
The window is locked.
“Mom?”
“What is it now?”
“When is dinner going to be ready?”
“Not till your father comes home.”
“Is there anything to eat?”
“You can have a piece of fruit.”
Mathew never got outside that day, but his mouth did until the apple was gone.
