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May Flash #2 - "Dum"
🕑 Added 2023-05-13 14:26:43 +0000 UTCNashua, New Hampshire
Friday
Hannah opens the front door of her single-story home. She makes me wait first, obviously, but she finally opens the door.
It’s quiet. Her kids aren’t home right now, thank God, so there’s no yelling and screaming in the background. Which is nice.
I hold out my hand. “Thanks.”
She gives me a cool look. “For what?”
I feel the back of my neck go warm. Why does every conversation we have go like this? Why is nothing ever simple?
I look up and down Forest Park Drive; nice neighborhood. I look back at Hannah; crappy sister-in-law.
“My phone,” I say.
She nods lightly. “Right, Matthew. Because you left it here.” She makes her lips turn upward; I guess that counts as a smile. “Oopsie.”
My ears get warmer. Oopsie. Hannah talks that way, how you might talk to a small child, because she’s got three of her own. Potty. Kitty. And of course, No.
‘Oopsie’ is on point because the last thing I wanted was to come back here after the argument we had during lunch.
“She just wants us to be part of the family,” my wife said as we drove away. “Auntie Rachel and Uncle Matthew. She wants her kids to know us.”
“She wants the money,” I replied, because isn’t every delivery to our home another piece of Amazon crap for those kids? “She wants a babysitter, and she wants a witness to every little dumb thing she says or does.”
Rachel didn’t respond to that. Or rather, she didn’t say anything, looked out the window, and I could imagine her wanting to link in one of these dinky little houses instead of Timberline. She’s never really appreciated how hard I’ve worked; she wants to give it all away to the children instead.
But I didn’t say any of that. I’m not an idiot.
Instead, I thought of work, I reached into my jacket pocket, and then I laughed.
“What?” Rachel asked.
I shook my head. “I fucking left my fucking phone at your sister’s fucking house.”
Yeah. Oopsie.
“School bus drops off in…seven minutes,” says Hannah. “We’ve just got time.” She goes inside, forcing me to follow her. Time for what?
And I imagine for a hot, rage-filled moment that she will force me to find the phone myself. In the living room underneath a seat cushion where I first sat down (for coffee, for those few minutes when we could still pretend we didn’t loathe each other) or hiding under a napkin on the kitchen table (where we stopped pretending).
Hannah walks into the living room and points at the coffee table.
I pick up my phone. God, it’s as if she doesn’t even want to touch it. The big news is my sister-in-law despises me. The sub-headline is, I don’t care.
I check for messages. And then I sigh. “Oh, come on.”
“What?”
“One of your kids has been messing with it.”
Hannah makes a snorting noise. “They’re still at school.”
I show her the screen. “Look.”
Hannah looks. She does another one of her upturned smiles. “Always thought you should play more games.”
My neck feels hot. The phone screen is filled with colorful shapes. Little bubble gum balls or something, the kind of think you used a handful for a quarter.
The phone buzzes.
“Ooh,” Hannah says brightly, “you must be winning!”
“What?” I glare at her. “You’ve done something to my phone. Put it in kids’ mode.” I stick out my hand. “Fix it.”
“’Kids mode’,” she replies, still sounding bright, as if she’s about to break into song or something equally awful. “Nothing wrong with kids’ mode.” She shows me her palms. “I don’t think I can help you with the game, Matthew, I think you have to work it out on your own.”
I look at the screen. It’s too bright, it’s a mess of those colorful balls. It’s so incredibly dumb.
“I don’t know how to play it,” I complain. I can hear the whine in my voice, reminding me of how her kids sound when they’re tired. I think of them getting home from school, excited for the weekend.
Over lunch, the argument was about Rachel and I coming here for ‘family movie night’. Hannah had promised pizza, popcorn, and the latest Pixar.
I forcefully declined the invitation. But all of that feels like years away.
“You have to pop the balls,” Hannah says gently. “With your finger.” She points without doing it. “Pop, pop, see?”
It can’t be that simple. But when I try it, tapping the screen with my thumb, I’m rewarded with both a sound effect and a buzzing sensation.
What a simple, childish game. How dumb.
I work on the screen, both thumbs tapping.
“Looks like a fun game,” says Hannah. Her voice sounds faraway, and yet she’s right beside me.
I shake my head. “It’s dumb,” I whisper. “You gotta…you havta get all the balls.”
“Mmm,” Hannah says. “And you did! You got the whole lot!”
The phone vibrates, the balls jumble and dissolve, only to be replaced by a new screen.
“Good work! I guess you’re not so dumb.”
I nod. The colors aren’t so bright this time, or maybe I’m just used to it. So many colors, like a cartoon. My eyes feel heavy, but I want to keep looking. I want to win the game.
“You’re not dumb, are you Matthew.”
“No-oh,” I reply, trying to focus on the game. “I’m…not dumb.”
The word echoes in my head, and I forget something. I think maybe I forget a lot of things, but how can I know if I can’t remember them? It’s a weird idea. It’s…
“Not…dumb,” I say. My thumbs work hard, the balls get popped. I can feel the buzzing in my hands, it travels all the way up my arms and into my head.
“Not dumb!” I announce victoriously as the screen clears. The phone is blank. Is the game over? I realize that I don’t want it to end.
The phone buzzes and a new set of balls fill the screen. Even more than last time. Just as bright.
I grin. “Gonna do it,” I say. “Not…dum.”
Hannah strokes my back. “You’re not dumb. Leveled up! You’re a smarty pants!”
She produces a contagious giggle. I can feel it bubbling in my throat. I let it out.
“Silly boy,” says Hannah in a sing-song voice. “You’re so sweet and silly for your Auntie Hannah.”
I nod. Sure. As long as I get to play the game. Because I have to get all the balls, show I’m not dum. Every single one. And I wonder if I could play this game for a really long time. If I’m allowed.
I tap the screen with racing thumbs. I’m super-fast, I’m like The Flash. And when I close my eyes, I can see Hannah’s oldest boy in his Halloween costume from last years, and I feel a ticklish glow of jealousy.
I get all the balls. I’m the best at this game. And the delight is unstoppable.
“Diddit!” I grin at Hannah.
The phone vibrates in my hand. The phone shakes and buzzes. And for a moment I’m afraid, because the game has gone away, leaving something blank on the screen and in my head.
Oopsie.
I offer the phone to Hannah.
“All done?”
I nod. I don’t know what to do now. What comes next?
Hannah knows. Of course, she does. “I’ll call Mommy.” She tilts her face at me. “Wanna talk to Mommy?”
I blink. My face feels warm. Because I’m not a baby. “Mom,” I say softly.
Hannah smiles. “Right. Mom. Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Auntie Hannah’s so silly, she forgets what a big boy you are sometimes.”
I smile, reassured. Auntie Hannah knows I’m not a dumb baby.
I hear the sound of brakes. A series of flashing red lights in the corner of my vision. Yellow.
“There’s the bus,” says Hannah. “Right no time.” She puts her arms around me, pulls me close. I can feel her breath on my face. “They’re going to be so happy to see you! And I know you’re going to be a good boy for me tonight.” She kisses my cheek lightly, then looks me straight in the eye. “Aren’t you, Matthew.”
There’s no question in her tone. There’s no question in my mind.
I look out the window at the kids running up the path.
I nod. I’m going to be such a good boy. And maybe we’ll get pepperoni pizza.
THE END
His sister-in-law returns the phone he lost at her house, but now parental controls prevent him seeing anything but the most babyish content - Elfie
