Echo

anemically.

    Scotty grew hungry for his dinner, waiting for Germaine. If his best buddy didn’t show soon, they might lose their prize to the big kids. He didn’t want the big kids to spot him without Germaine for back up. The last time that happened, they held him down and pulled off his pants. They jeered and taunted him, calling him Scotty-Watty Tissue Paper and worse yet, Ass Wipe . They left him pantless on the pavement to slink home in disgrace. His mommy held him and shed tears with him. His daddy made fun of him and called him a sissy boy. He didn’t think sissy boy sounded nice from his daddy’s mouth. Now his daddy referred to both he and his big sister as parasites.
    He smiled the first time he heard it. It sounded like a big important word. He loved the way it rolled off his tongue. He liked to repeat the word over and over, enjoying the syllables that popped out of his mouth so satisfyingly. Then he noticed his mother’s face after his father said it. It looked crumpled in. That’s when he realized it must be a bad word. Now, the word just slithered out of his mouth like a venomous snake looking for prey to strike. He developed trouble sleeping, nightmares a common occurrence. He never remembered any of his nightmares but he knew they always contained a big dark murky figure that resembled his dad. Unfortunately, Scotty easily developed into a suspicious defensive little boy, trusting only his mother and his sister.
    He loved his half sister, Abby. Abby’s daddy and his mom never married. Everyone said young and foolish made a bad combination for marriage. That’s what Abby said, too. He didn’t think his mom ever behaved foolishly. If she had been his age he would have made her his very best friend. Even though playing with a girl made you look like a loser.
    Thirteen-year-old Abby became Scotty’s strongest advocate. Whenever Scotty refused to go outside for fear of bodily harm, Abby would sit him down and spin stories of imaginary worlds, fantastic creatures and handsome brave little boys. He loved hearing Abby’s stories even more than playing with Germaine.
    That’s why he couldn’t understand why his daddy ignored Abby. His mommy said sisters and brothers must always protect one another. But he knew his daddy didn’t want to protect Abby. Late one night when he got up to go potty, he heard his parents fighting. He heard his father shout something about Abby hanging around his neck like an anchor. He heard his daddy call Abby a bad name. His daddy said he didn’t want to be responsible for a bastard kid that didn’t belong to him.
    Overhearing his daddy gave him a stomachache. His troubled sleep left him tired and cranky the next morning. But he still managed to promise his mommy he would always protect Abby, even if he had to stand on a chair to do it. He thought it would make his mother happy. He didn’t understand why she cried instead.
    Late one fall day, Scotty came home from grade school, his paperwork in his eager hands. He wanted to show his mom the smiley face the teacher gave him. His daddy was supposed to take Abby to the hospital for her weekly dialysis treatment. Mommy worked six days a week at the grocery store, so Daddy reluctantly took responsibility. When Scotty remarked that Daddy should work so Mommy could stay home more, he claimed he had very important things to do and that a dummy like Scotty wouldn’t understand. Mommy looked like her tummy hurt when Daddy said things like that.
    Actually, the little boy didn’t recall his daddy ever working like Mommy did. He often saw her late at night, removing her shiny leg brace to massage her tired muscles.
    Scotty realized most of the dads in his building didn’t work. They formulated important matters to discuss in the rec room of their building. The dads wouldn’t let little kids in the rec room because of the beer and smoking. So when he found Abby unconscious on the floor of her bedroom, he ran down to the basement rec room and pounded on the locked door.
    “Hello, anyone in there? Daddy, I need you . Daddy, Daddy … help. ” He knew Abby should go to the hospital this morning. Why didn’t Daddy take her? But no one would open the door to a crying six year old. He tried again, banging over and over. The door suddenly opened, omitting smoke and loud raucous music.
    “Kid, what cha doing—screaming out here? Get lost.” The big man wore an old stained shirt, the sleeves rolled up over his fat hairy arms.