From that moment on my dad became a stranger. I couldn’t remember a single moment of closeness and warmth with him. Now it was like I understood that he didn’t know me at all.
‘If he knew me, he would have known that I wanted good for us and not to make him mad. The booze cannot be good for him.’ I was certain.
I looked at the cat. We called it Jozo, because the way it walked reminded my dad of how a certain soccer player by the name Jozo, walked. Looking absentmindedly at my four-legged friend, I thought: ‘ Why did he say that I was Judas? I heard of the same name in the Bible. Apparently he was a bad man. He did something bad. If I tried to stop my dad from drinking and being such a jerk, why is that bad? What a fool. When I was a kid, it bothered him if I did certain things and if I refused to listen to him. And now I wanna do good and he made it look bad. Typical excuse for drinking. He doesn’t love us. Who would do this for love?’
As a thought finished, I realized that both of my fists were clenched tightly. Outside the darkness fell. I liked the dark room. I was lying on my bed and stared at the ceiling.
I went on: ‘Then, idiot, he gets drunk and and doesn’t see anything that I do. Not that I do anything bad anyway, but he either doesn’t see it or he sees it but doesn’t care at all. He doesn’t have any strength to get up and yell, or to try to hit me. Or whatever.’
I turned to the cat: “Jozo, hey Jozo, what do you have to say to all that?” The cat stretched, mewed with irritation and fell asleep again. I was alone.
‘And Luka, he’s a jerk too. He doesn’t see me, he doesn’t know me.’ Thoughts continued.
“Stop it! Stop it you drunkard!” mom’s shrieks came probably from kitchen. The rattle of pots followed. Then I heard something got broken, a plate perhaps.
“Noo!” My mom’s voice changed into sobs. I jumped off the bed, heart pounding heavily. I shivered as the picture of my mom covered in blood entered my mind. I ran to the kitchen. I sighed with relief. She was ok. No blood, no dying. I didn’t see her face. She was slightly bent over with her back on me, and was collecting pieces of the broken plate. Her back was slightly shaking- she was crying. I heard the door slammed shut.
‘Good, the idiot went outside.’ I felt better.
“I’m sure he went across the street to that damn bar to drink again.” I hissed, wanting to hurt him somehow, even by talking about him to mom.
“We went into a fight over a stupid dinner” mom said while hugging me.
“Until when mom, until when do we have to keep up with this misery?” I looked up, into her eyes. Now I was almost as tall as her.
“Go to sleep. It’s ok.” She touched my face with the palm of her hand.
I turned and went back to my room. I knew it wasn’t ok. I crashed on the bed and at the same time I turned the tape player on. Madonna with her “Live to tell” song.
‘Sure. Live to tell. What? The shit? She is afraid of him. Why are we staying here so long. She also doesn’t understand. No one does.’
“No one, Jozo. No one.” I closed my eyes.