Batman's Rope

Debbie stood in the small apartment kitchen, where yellowed, white painted cupboards and drawers dominated. Her hair was tied back, and she was in her night gown, a nice, pink silk one that her husband had bought for her, small frills in the front.

Her husband's son, Chris, sat watching t.v., some rerun of Johnny Quest.

"Sim sim sala bim," little Hadji said from the tv.

Debbie opened the yellowed, white fridge and took out a beer. She pulled the tab off and took a drink. She wasn't going to drink forever, but now it was stressful. Taking care of Chris was more than she could handle.

It had all seemed good in the beginning. Chris' mom was being shipped overseas, to Korea, Debbie thought. Debbie and her husband could not have kids, so in comes Chris, toe headed big eyed Chris, and presto, the perfect family.

But now Debbie was playing house mom, and she couldn't work on her career. And worse yet, she resented the child. He was what she could not give her husband. But now Chris' mom was gone, and there was no place to put him.

The last thing Debbie imagined herself doing with her college degree was vacuuming floors and cleaning toilets all day.

"We'll construct a water pipe from these bamboo branches," came the voice of Dr. Quest from the t.v.

Debbie tossed the beer can into the trash by the kitchen entrance, letting the last sips slosh in the can as it hit the sides of the trash. She grabbed another beer, just one more to relax. She drank half, and sat the can on the counter.

Time to vacuum.

The vacuum started fine, and Debbie could hear the crackling of bits of debris being sucked up. She made her way into Chris' room, and became enraged.

She told him to pick up his toys. Told him he had to before he could watch t.v. And there it was, some rope toy thing from his Batman toy.

"Chris, get in here right now!" she yelled.

Chris came in the room, still in his pajamas stained with milk from this morning's breakfast.

"Didn't I tell you to pick up your toys?"

Chris looked scared, and nodded his head.

Scared, huh? Just wait till you get older, Debbie thought to herself.

"See that toy right there?"

She pointed to the rope toy thing. Chris looked at it.

Crackle went the vacuum as the rope toy thing was sucked up by spinning brushes and into the bag.

Chris sniffled. Debbie hated it when he cried. Last thing she needed was for him to go crying to his dad that "stepmom was mean." She turned off the vacuum, and walked to Chris. She walked into Chris, pushing him back into the hallway. He fell.

She stood over him, her nightgown draping. He lay there, not moving.

"It's ok," she said, "Stand up."

She could feel him rustling beneath her gown, his shoulders rubbing against her legs.

"Reach up," she said. "Don't be afraid."

There was only one thing he could see above, and he reached for it on command, and fell into a light pink sky, filled with folds of blue clouds dominating a sea of forgetfulness.