Myron sat on the floor, huddled in the small
space between his bed and
the dresser. His arms wrapped tightly around his
knees, he nervously
bounced against the wall. A new library book,
clutched tightly in
both hands, tapped in unison against his shin.
"Read, Myron. Don't listen, just read," he
pleaded with himself.
Forcing his hands to move the book up until it
was balanced on top off
his knobby knees, he opened it and peered down at
the page - a random
page. The words wouldn't focus. It took nearly
a full minute for
Myron to realize that he'd forgotten his reading
glasses. Looking up
from the blurry page, he scanned his bedroom -
they weren't here.
He'd left his glasses...out there - with them.
off the tears threatening to well up in his eyes,
Myron barely noticed
as the book slipped quietly from his fingers,
sliding down his shin
and coming to a rest precariously balanced across
Rewrapping his arms around his legs and closing
his eyes, Myron let
his head slowly drop until it rested where the
book had been.
Without his glasses, his new book ceased to
matter. He couldn't go
get them. Couldn't go...out there. That was
their world, now. The
General had taken her from him - taken Myron's
place in that world.
Now it was a world where they fought over him -
without seeing him.
Fought like they were fighting now. He had no
place in that world.
Loud, but controlled - always controlled - voices
filtered through the
wood of his bedroom door. Her voice insisting
that "the boy" stay -
his place was with them. THEY WOULD BE A
FAMILY. His voice
insisting that "the boy" would go - his place
was at the academy.
The proper education - THAT WAS THE PRIORITY.
The voices invaded his
world, depriving him of his sanctuary.
His place??!! His place??!! Myron's voice
screamed silently inside
himself - loudly and uncontrolled. He had no
place. He was just a
toy to be fought over. For her, he was a baby
doll that she could
dress up and hold - something to stave off her
loneliness and give
meaning to her existence. For him, Myron was a
toy soldier to be
dressed and posed in the General's image - to
stand in the World as a
reminder of his greatness. They could not both
possess him and they
could not share. So he had no place in that
Loneliness and frustration surged through him and
he felt a tear spill
out of the corner of his eyes. NO! HE WOULD NOT
CRY! Damn them!
Damn them both!! He was NOT a toy to be fought
over until he was
broken and discarded. He had no place here, so
he would go to the
fuckin' academy. He would be prepared for West
Point, made ready for
the Army. Of course, he WOULDN't go to West
Point - he would have
no place there either - but that was later. Now
the Academy would
give him time to find his place - a sanctuary
that they could not
reach - a door too far away from them for their
voices to penetrate.