Boy in the Drain

Driving home from work, Mandy enjoyed the blue sky and cool air flowing into her car. It was welcome. Her office building was too warm and stuffy being the late fall. Also, the prolonged bouts of clouds and rain the past couple of weeks made her yearn for the sun. Turning the final corner to her house, she found her youngest son playing by the street drain once again. He was laying on his back on the curb, looking up toward the sky and talking.

At first, anger sparked within her, then it drained into a pit of weariness. She told Wade numerous times that a nine-year-old boy had no business playing around a filthy storm drain. Yet, here he was doing it again. She sighed as she slowed down to a stop and rolled down her driver side window.

"What are you doing?" Mandy asked.

The boy sat up and placed his feet on the street. His play shoes were dirty with mud and grass stains. His bright, blue eyes, wide with anxiety, looked at his mother. Mandy knew that look, one of being caught red handed.

"Nothing. Just playing," Wade answered. Wade fidgeted with his shoe laces as he rested forward against his legs. He did his best not to make eye contact with her.

"Wade, look at me," Mandy said.

Doing what he was told, reluctantly, Wade slowly raised his eyes to meet his mother's. He glanced away, struggling, but he returned his attention to her obediently.

"Haven't I told you not to play near the drains?" she asked.

"Yes, Mama. I forgot," Wade replied.

"Well, to help you remember, you will wash the dishes after dinner, and no video games for an hour after that. Do you understand?" Mandy tried her best not to raise her voice, but she wore her stern mask to get her point across. She could see Wade deflate under the discipline.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Be inside in twenty minutes to get washed up to eat."

Wade nodded as she pulled away, turning into her drive way. Adjusting her right, side mirror she could see him. The boy stood up, kicked at some pebbles, and appeared to be talking. Then he slowly walked away from the drain on the side walk. Sighing heavily, she used her garage door opener and gathered her lunch box, laptop bag, and sweater as she got out of her vehicle. Lugging her junk inside she dropped everything on her bed. Then she went to find her oldest son.

The kids' bedrooms were on the other side of the house from her own, and she crossed through the living room on her search. She grumbled under her breath noticing the television was on and no one was watching it.

"Paul?" She called out for her son as she approached his bedroom door. She preferred to give the sixteen-year-old advanced notice he was about to get a visit. A year prior, she learned her lesson when she opened his door without knocking. Stopping at his door, she gently tapped her knuckles against the light colored wood. "Paul? You in there?"

"Yes, Mom. Come in."

Opening the door, Mandy found Paul looking at a text book and doing homework. She smiled slightly, pleased to see something productive instead of him on his computer, playing some stupid game and wasting his time. About to say something positive, she shook her head slightly choosing rather to put her hands on her hips.

"Why aren't you watching your brother? Do you know he was out playing by that filthy drain again?" Mandy asked.

"He was supposed to be inside watching TV," Paul answered.

"You know you can't trust a nine-year-old to do the expected. You should at least keep this door open so you can hear what is going on. And check every once in a while!" Mandy said.