The figure on the screen brought him to a dead stop. “Mom.”

In months he had not spoken to her. Maybe longer. He thought of not answering it--but then something, hope or habit, urged him, and he swiped to answer.

Hello? he said hasily.

Her voice was in a hurry, almost a rehearsal. “Marcus. I want a favor.”

A bitter laugh sprang upon his lips No, after all these years, no, how are you? Nothing like,I miss you. To business. Need to straight.

My stepdad and I have a thing tonight. It is significant to his work. The twins.. they do not have anyone to stay with. Could you go and Username and see them? Only a few hours.”ibrDecember regarding the blight of the present century:

Marcus was hunched over the couch with the phone to his ear. Babysit? Children who hardly knew him? Children who had been brought up under the same roof in the same house he had been treated as an outsider?

The Scar of the Past

Memories rushed in like an old wound reopening

He recollected how he was fifteen years old and he was sitting at the dinner table. His stepdad scowling at him over the plates.

It was not my business, said the man with a straight face in front of the mother of Marcus.

And she? She would only continue to eat Stir the food in her dish, as though by that a sting were rubbed out.

There followed the twins Marcus was seventeen at the time of their births Instantly the entire house had begun to turn around them All the time, all the energy, all the affection were directed to the new babies by her mom.

Marcus turned invisible A phantom in his house. He cooked his own food, cleaned his own laundry and even did part-time jobs so that he could afford to buy things which his parents never took care of.

At nineteen he packed his bag and went away. Nobody ever halted him Nobody said, Stay.

And now? Three years later she was calling him back--to babysit!

Refusal

Mom, Marcus said in a low voice. You do not call me in months. Last time we talked, you did not even ask me how I was. And now all of a sudden I am the person you trust enough to babysit your children?”

There was a break in the conversation Behind him he heard laughter--the twins, probably. His siblings. His strangers.

They are your brothers and sisters, she said, in a tone of voice that was meant to sound kind. You are needed. function.

Marcus closed his teeth together. Need me? What did he need it when he was sixteen and on his own, applying to college? What was the need at the time he was laboring two shifts to get food?

I am sorry, I said. “No. I can not.”

Her sigh was short, even angry. It is selfish of you. They are kids. ratshit.

A something in Marcus broke. “No. When you allowed him to treat me like he was garbage was selfish. Selfish was when you kept quiet as I was nudged away You can talk now--just because I refuse to act as baby sitter.”

The line was so quiet.

Okay. I will work something else out.”

And the line gave through

Marcus gazed at the black screen. Sigh rising and falling on his chest, anger intermingling with grief. He put down the phone on the couch and held his hands over his face.

 Waterlogged on the Thoughts

It was very quiet in the apartment except the fridge. Marcus filled a glass of water and sat at the small table in the kitchen and glared at the worn out linoleum.

He had been too far. At one time he ought to have said yes.

But then the recollections were again more vivid than ever.

Christmas morning, age twelve--standing by the window waiting on his mom to get home from work. She never appeared Under the tree was only a sweater bought in a cheap shop, two sizes too large. He opened it and was alone

Three years on, Christmas morn was a time of laughter, and mounds of toys when the twins were toddlers. His mom on the floor with them, grinning all the brighter than he had ever seen before.

It was not the fault of the kids. It was painful. It had ever been painful to me

Birthday Forgotten

Then a memory of his sixteenth birthday came--

He would get home at school and a little hope would stir in his chest. Maybe a cake, card, even a happy birthday.

The living room was rather full of balloons and toys instead. The birthday of the twins was two days ago, but the celebration extended over the weekend. They had all come out--neighbors, relatives, children with the frosting on their faces.

Nobody recollected Marcus

He was sitting up in the upstairs room, eating half-cold left-over pizza, listening to the twins being sung to again--with the words Happy Birthday.

He vowed never to depend on them again to give him love.

The Present Day Pain

Marcus was at the window of his small apartment in the present. The city lights went on forever and cars shooting past. Families somewhere out there were sitting down to dinner, children being put to bed and parents checking homework.

and here he was, twenty two years old, still hurting, like that sixteen year old boy who needed to be noticed.