Wednesday, December 14, 2011
A Twisted Lil' Short-Short For the Holidays: "Bless This Meal, O Lord"
Appearances on the Maury show ("My Teen's Out of Control!!!") hadn't helped. Neither had the meds, a last resort.
Billy, just thirteen, was tearing their family apart.
He threatened to stab Mother while she slept. Sprayed Mace in Father's eyes when Father tried to spank him.
His parents worked so hard to feed eight kids.
In the end, he gave them no choice . . . .
They cried as they held him down, shaved every hair from his body.
Wept as they broke his arms, legs, folded him onto that platter . . .
Mother stumbled when they slid him into the oven. Father caught her, kissed her, promised everything'll be okay.
He cranked the dial to 350.
They held one another tightly, watched Billy through the little window.
Father said Grace. His voice was hoarse, but sincere.
He thanked God for Billy's brothers and sisters. For the good children.
Then, he began to carve.
Mother passed portions 'round the table.
They ate: licking, chomping, slurping.
Wished one another, "Happy Thanksgiving."
. . . until Father pointed his knife at the youngest, said, "Don't talk with your mouth full, dear."