From the basement, I hear my dad say, It goes right here, on this table. Three sets of
| footsteps are moving across the family-room | oor, and soon I hear something heavy |
| being set down. After fteen minutes or so, | the sounds of college football explode |
through the oor abovebig bands playing, drums galore, ght songs being sungand I realize my father has replaced the family-room television. I hear the deliverymens footsteps exit, and then Dad increases the volume so I can hear every play call the commentators make, even though I am in the basement and the basement door is shut. I dont follow college football, so I dont really know the players or the teams being discussed.
I do some curls and simply listen, secretly hoping Dad will come down into the basement, tell me about the new television, and ask me to watch the game with him. But he doesnt.
Suddenly, maybe a half hour after the deliverymen leave, the volume is turned down, and I hear Mom ask, What the hell is this?
Its a high-definition television with surround sound, my father replies. No, that is a movie screen, and
Jeanie
Dont you Jeanie me.
I work hard for our money, and I wont have you telling me how to spend it!
Patrick, its ridiculous. It doesnt even t on the end table. How much did you pay for that?
Never mind.
You smashed the old television just so you could buy a bigger one, didnt you? Jesus Christ, Jeanie. Will you please stop bitching at me for once?
Were on a budget. We agreed Oh. Okay. Were on a budget. We agreed that
We have money to feed Pat. We have money to buy Pat a new wardrobe. We have money to buy Pat a home gym. We have money for Pats medications. Well then, the way I see it, we have money for a new fucking television set too.
I hear my mothers footsteps exit the family room. Just before my father turns up the game again, I hear her stomp up the steps to her bedroom, where I know she will cry because my father has cursed at her again.
And its my fault their money is stretched. I feel awful.
I do sit-ups on the Stomach Master 6000 until it is time to run with Tiffany.
When I finally go upstairs, I see that Dads television set is one of those new flat-screen models they advertised when we watched the Eagles play Houston, and it is literally almost the size of our dining-room table. Its huge; only the center third rests on the end table, making it look as if it is balanced very carefully, as if the whole thing might topple when the heater vents begin to blow later this fall. Even still, while I do feel bad about Mom, I have to admit that the picture quality is excellent and the speakers set up on stands behind the couch ll the house with sound, making it seem as though the college football game is being played in our family roomand I start to look forward to watching the Eagles on the new set, thinking the players will almost appear life-size.
I stand behind the couch for a second, admiring my fathers new television, hoping he will acknowledge my presence. I even say, Dad, did you get a new television?
But he doesnt answer me.
He is mad at my mom for questioning his purchase, so now he will sulk. He will not talk to anyone for the rest of the day, I know from experience, so I leave the house and find Tiffany jogging up and down the street.
Tiffany and I run together, but we do not talk.
When I return home, Ti any keeps jogging without even saying goodbye, and as I jog up the driveway to the back door, Mothers car is gone.
