Colt's Game : A Playing for Keeps Story

And Then There Was Dad

Colt

After that intense standoff in the film room, we took practice outside and it was more of the same. I didn't trust them, and they didn't trust me. Coach seems to think this is the normal process of getting a team together, and he spouted some shit about how we just needed to go through the paces. But I didn't have time to go through the paces. I needed to get this shit together and now. I had a thousand yards to get.

I didn't even wait to speak with any of the guys after the practice was over. I had given my time and energy to practice. Now I had other things to do with my day. Namely, I had to get my mother from the hospital. I had already spoken to her earlier, and she was chomping at the bit to get home. 

The doctor didn't want her to go, but she was too concerned about what kind of bill we would get if she were to stay longer. Once the doctor told her that she was stable and she wouldn't lose her eye, I had to beg her to stay there long enough for me to pick her up.

The doctor released her with some pain medication for the broken teeth in her mouth and the broken ribs. She was wrapped up tight, and though she kept telling me that she was okay, I could tell that she is in a lot of pain.

"I can't wait to get in my own bed. Those hospital beds are too hard," she complains softly, giving me a lopsided smile. Her face is still pretty bruised up, but at least her eye is opening back up and the slur is getting better.

"I wish you would have stayed there at least another day and let them take care of you. There is nothing for you to do here." I walk slowly by her side.

"Oh, pish, who is going to clean up after you if I'm laid up in the hospital? You trying to say you don't need your momma anymore?" She raises the hand on her good side and squeezes my bicep.

"No, ma'am, I'm always going to need you, Mom." I pat her hand. She might have chosen the wrong motherfucker for my father, but my mother has always done whatever she could to let me know that I was loved. Even when we have nothing, I know that woman loves me.

"That's what I want to hear." She threads her arm through mine, and we turn the corner to our house. I feel her stiffen, and I drop her hand.

"Goddammit." Daddy dearest's car is parked in the driveway. I just brought her home from the safety of the hospital, only to bring her right back into this war zone. "Mom, let's just go somewhere else. You're not well enough to deal with his bullshit right now."

"Colt, what did I tell you about using those vulgar words with me? That's my home. That is where I'm going. Let's just go inside, okay? It's going to be fine." She pats my arm again and straightens her back as she walks into the house.

"Lisa! Where the fuck have you been?" my father yells at her from the couch.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Blaine, I should have had the doctor call you. I was at the hospital."

My father turns his head and glares at her. "The hospital? What the fuck did you go to the hospital for? I better not hear nothing from no one. I don't have time for your attention-seeking bullshit."

"Attention-seeking!" I step in front of her. "Are you outside your mind? Look at her face. She was barely standing up yesterday."

"Colt! No!" My mother tries to push me back. 

The merry-go-round starts again. 

The only thing keeping me from beating the shit out of this man, father or not, was the fact that I truly felt my mother would die if something were to happen to me.

My father jumps up from his chair. He wobbles a bit, evidence that he is only here to find a way to get over his latest hangover. 

"You think you're grown now, boy? You ready to throw your hat in the ring? Because I'll show you what the fuck it looks like to be a man. Knock you out where you stand."

I chuckle at the ridiculousness of it. I was a solid six feet tall, physically fit, and was quicker than him with both my hands tied behind my back. He, on the other hand, was tall and rounding in the middle, and wouldn't know how to throw a punch at anyone besides my mother.

"I'd love to see you try it." I push into his space, just waiting for him to make his move.

"Colt! Please!" my mother screams at me, tears coming out of her one good eye.

I won't be the one to make her cry. I can't stand it. "Fuck this." I back away and walk over to the fridge.

I don't know what I expected to find. We never had any food. How my mother always managed to make dinner was a mystery.

"Get the hell out of my refrigerator. I don't bring nothing in here for you," my father yells at me before he falls back down onto the couch and turns whatever he is watching on the analog TV up.

My mother walks over to me and grabs my hand. "Sit, baby. I'll find something for you." I pull my hand away from her harder than I should. 

This isn't her fault, but I can't help the anger that I feel toward her right now. I don't know why she can't see that she deserves better than this. That he's nothing but a piece of shit. I hate it.

"Don't worry about it, Mom. I have some things to do at school. I'll be back later." I grab my bag, kiss her cheek before I walk out, leaving the two of them in the house with each other. 

If she was content being in his presence, there was nothing that I could do about that. But for me, I need to get out of here before I shove a steak knife in this bastard's eye.