Chapter 1 (Continued): Green House

It is dark outside of our little green house. I have just completed phase two of my nightly ritual of dinner, bath, prayer, sleep. The house is quiet right now as if I am an only child. This is a rare moment in my world, between two older sisters who are very capable but every bit as demanding and my older brother's need for almost constant help and attention parental alone time is somewhat of a commodity for me. As I have just stated though it is quiet right now and my father has just returned from work. I was in my bath but could recognize the strong but somehow sullen footsteps of a man quietly holding up the weight of his family. My mom talks about how dad owns a store that sells pieces of cars to people when theirs aren't working anymore. I remember feeling a sense of a wakeless pressure, like how the sky looks and feels just before a heavy winter snow storm, when I would sit next to and talk with my dad during this time of the green house. I felt excited though that he was home. Surely we would play my favorite game "Sammy the spider" where my fathers hand would turn into a ravenous spider that seemed to feed only upon the soft ticklish flesh of my stomach. I would run and scream with laughter as an escaped mental patient every time I heard the phrase out of my fathers mouth of "Oh, now is that Sammy the spider swinging from the ceiling?". Or at least I could hear and make him laugh with one of my patented silly phrases or faces I loved to make. That's it I said to myself, "I will make him laugh". Somehow I communicated to my mother that I wanted to surprise my dad with a silly rainbow colored kite pillow that my mom got me that even a three year old realised the corny gaudiness of. Surely my dad would think it was funny as well. The thing was ridiculous I still remember its half witted grin of a clown sown onto his face that not even all of my faux boxing skills could wipe off. I grabbed the kite out of my moms hands and held it in front of my face like a mask, then silently slid down the carpeted basement stairs where my father was watching his baseball game in the rec/family room. My stomach bubbled with anticipation of the outrages laughter that would exude from my fathers face when I jumped out from underneath the couch and scared him with that ridiculous kite pillow on my face. With one fluid movement I turned the corner from under the couch and leaped into my fathers lap. "Ooof, Aaron! be careful don't jump on me while I'm watching my game." As he picked me up from off his lap I slowly brought the kite down from my face only to see my fathers face full of consternation at my attempt at being funny, but more heart wrenching to me; was seeing my indestructible dad's face full of worry lines and a quiet beaten desperation in his eyes that the memory of still stays with me to this day. And to this day I could not love him more for enduring that pain I saw in his eyes and finding a way beyond all the terrible odds of this world to support our family and that little green house.