Billy Blog - June 2nd, 2005 [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Journal

Official Site | News
User Profile | Info

Links
[Links:| Add BC to your friendslist | Confessions | Twitter ]

June 2nd, 2005

The Toy Hammer (19??/1985) [Jun. 2nd, 2005|08:26 pm]
[Tags|, ]

My father once asked me if I had any memory of the story of “The Toy Hammer” …he said that my brother, when he was still an infant, ended up in the hospital covered head to toe in bruises…the police were called in to investigate, and when questioned, my mother told them that I had beaten my brother up and down with my toy hammer…my father was asking me simply if I had any memory of any of this…I said that I didn’t know what he was talking about, and it seemed to me that it was the type of incident that I would have remembered…my mother was still alive when he confided all this to me, and as he told me, he went on to say that he was never comfortable with her version of the story…the police questioned him as well, but he had told them that he was out of town at the time…all I had to add to this is that my mother had never laid a hand on me in my entire life, nor had I ever seen her hit my brother…he ended all this by saying “thanks, I always wondered about that…"

On my 18th birthday, I go with my father to the International House of Pancakes, our regular place to grab a bite to eat for breakfast…my father and I are alike in that we like to eat the same thing at the same place everyday, even if it is my birthday, so this is nothing special…my father tips the cook often (a certain rarity in a fast food joint), so the chef always kicks in a little extra on the food portions as a way of taking care of us back…my dad always tends to be a little sentimental on holidays and birthdays, so it is not unusual when he starts waxing rhapsodic about how I’m all grown up now and how we are both getting older (he is just a bit over 20 years my senior)…he repeats some of his favourite stories from my youth, and I just bask in the rare glow of his direct attention…after a bit, he gets kind of quiet, and his face gets this funny look, and I know something is coming…”there is something I have to tell you”, and by the look in his eyes I get nervous, thinking he is about to tell me he is going die of some rare disease (not an unusual occurrence with my father either)…”I don’t know how to tell you this, and I always figured I would wait until you were old enough to hear it”, he says ominously…”you know, I met your mother when I was a young man, and like any guy who is just getting out of the house, I was chasing girls all over the place”…at this point, I for the life of me cannot tell where all this is going, but I know it can’t be good…”anyway, your mom and I were both just 19 when you were conceived, and obviously you were an accident, because we weren’t really planning on having a child yet, and as a matter of fact, I couldn’t even of told you at that time whether we were going to stay together at all…we’d only been together a short time anyway…so around the time I was going out with your mother, I was also seeing this other girl”…now I am totally stumped, for I have never heard of this other ‘mystery woman’, nor how she figures into my life story (or my birthday for that matter!)…and why he has waited these many years to tell me whatever he is going to tell me has me on the edge of my seat…even though we are in a busy restaurant, all I hear is the sound of my own heart throbbing in my ears and his weedy voice…”so yeah, around the same time that I got your mother pregnant with you, I also got this other girl pregnant at almost the exact same time”…the look in my eyes must have given him pause, because he stops for a moment and says “I’m sorry I am telling all of this to you now”…I stutter out some form of a question, and he continues on…”even though I told this woman that I didn’t want a relationship with her because I was more serious about your ma, she went ahead anyway and had the baby…I lost touch with her shortly afterward, so I don’t know what happened to her or the baby…but I felt that you should know that somewhere out there (he sweeps his hand vaguely in the direction of infinity), you have a half-brother”…now I am falling out of the booth, as my mind reels thru all the souls in the known universe…so many questions start to fall from the sky into my lap; “is he alive, where is he, does he still live in Chicago?”...I suddenly feel a great responsibility to find this person, and claim them as one of my own, whoever he may be...I ask my father, “do you know his name?”…”well, I don’t remember the woman’s last name, but I can tell you what his first name is…I told her not to do this, but because I was the father she went ahead and named him Billy”…

A few years later, I am at a party at someone’s house I do not know very well…there are lots of strange faces, shadowy spots and loud music is playing…I spy a familiar face across the room, a face that looks incredibly familiar…my first thought is “it’s him!”, but then I immediately talk myself out of it…”it can’t be”, I think…he looks at me, and I stare at him…he smiles, and I smile a sort of “how do you do?”…I don’t know whether I should go up and talk to him, for he has this reminiscent twinkle in his eye…I don’t know what to do, so I do nothing…how do you go up to a stranger and ask, “hey, are you my half-brother? did my dad get your mom pregnant and split?”…maybe he doesn’t even know the truth, if it is even possibly him at all…maybe I am creating this all in my mind…he seems to be my age, around 6 feet tall, and the nose does look about distinctive…the entire scene lasts for 15 seconds, and nothing does happen, the moment gets lost, and I leave the party and the face behind…
Link13 Comments | Comment

navigation
[ viewing | June 2nd, 2005 ]
[ go | Previous Day|Next Day ]