A Man Named Dave

didn’t approve of, but,” Uncle Lee adamantly asserted, “your father wasn’t evil. Whatever his shortcomings, it was never intentional. Get my meaning?”
    I nodded my head. “I understand. Thanks, Lee.”
    “Listen,” Lee knelt down, “yo ur father gave his helmet to Ron. Do you have his badge?”
    Checking behind me to ensure I was safe from prying eyes, I confided, “Yeah, but I’m not so sure I’m supposed to have it. Am I supposed to give it to you guys? What do I do?” I swallowed hard. “Give it to her?”
    “Not on your life!” Uncle Lee cried. “Listen up. It’s your father’s way of saying how much you meant to him. He wanted so much to give you kids something, instead of all the hell you boys were put through. David, you got shortchanged quite a bit and” – Lee paused to look in the direction of the pulpit – “and I expect you’re going to get the shaft before this matter is through. You keep it. To your father … well, that badge represents the kind of man he longed to be — on and off the job. To him it’s worth more than any amount of money. Do we have an understanding? What your mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her. So, keep your mouth shut and keep that badge. Do your namesake proud.”
    I felt as if I were ten feet tall. For a shining moment, I was a real person.
    Outside the church, I shivered from the morning chill. A thick gray blanket of fog swirled above. “Excuse me? ” Mother interrupted in her best sarcastic, pompous tone, “Mrs Trewn-bow, I require a moment alone to speak the with The Boy.”
    Alice – who had suffered years of Mother’s psychotic “disciplinary instructions” on what a burden I was to society in general during late-night drunken ramblings – had had her fill of Mother. Before Mrs Turnbough could give Mother a piece of her mind, I intervened and led Mother to the side of the church. Alone in the empty parking lot, Mother grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. “Just who in the hell do you think you are? What gives you the right to show up at a function like this?”
    With my resistance completely drained, I returned to my former position of address – with my head down and my arms locked to my sides. “You called,” I interjected.
    “I don’t ever remember placing a call to you … I can’t keep track of everything … and don’t … don’t you of all people contradict me … not today … you little shit! I’m not saying I called or didn’t call, and if I did, I did so out of courtesy. You should’ve had enough sense to understand that you weren’t welcome. But you were never that bright, were you?
    “And what in hell’s bells do you mean by having all those men fondle you as if you were something special?” Stealing a glance at her, I could tell that Mother was truly upset.
    “You listen up! I only brought you out here, from your measly air force base, out of the kindness of my heart. I didn’t have to do that, you know. So you stay the hell away from me and my boys! You know who you are and what you are. You don’t belong. Don’t you ever, ever, step foot in my house again!” Mother hissed. This time she didn’t use her finger to lift my chin, as she had when I was her prisoner. I looked up on my own and into Mother’s firey-red eyes. Not backing down, Mother leaned closer to me. “Don’t you have something for me? Didn’t he give you anything before he passed away?”
    Ever so slightly, I uncoiled my fingers on my right hand and ran them across my back pocket. I became less tense when I felt the outline of Father’s prized badge. Without batting an eye, I returned Mother’s cold stare. “No,” I said. “Father did not give me a thing.”
    “You’re lying!” Mother shrieked. In the same instant I felt the sting of her hand slapping my face. Maintaining my stance, I let the blood from my bitten lip trickle to the pavement. Her physical assaults no longer hurt me. Mother’s act of aggression was the final nail to her coffin – she had absolutely no control over me, and the only way to dominate me was to beat me. It never really worked when I was a child, and it certainly wouldn’t work now. It also meant that Mother must be desperate to resort to this form of treatment, especially in public.
    “I called the hospital … and they checked his belongings. They said he had the papers when he checked in, so don’t stand here and tell me those papers just up and disappeared! And what in the hell gives you the right to dispose of his clothes at his motel? I called and they said you had come