Sometimes when it
gets this cold,
then this warm
you see children
waiting on bus stops
with slush forming around
their toes
for a mother who will
be there at

"3 O'clock
on the dot so make sure
your little ass is out there
when I get there or I'm
leaving!"

I had been there
with bags on my feet from the
machines my mom worked.

Moonboots
Wet cement with
the plastic protection
of bags meant
for carrying ice.

I played the same games
as kids do now...

"She's coming riiiiiight

Now!"

"Now!"

I had a large orange backpack
my father got me as
a "good deal" meaning
that it was
previously owned or
from the magical world
of clearance.

The sky was getting darker
and the crossing guard was putting
away his sign.

Sometimes he would give
me a piece of candy and
ask where my ride was but
I don't really think he wanted
the answer, the one that goes
like "my mom doesn't love me
so she's late." kind of answers
that make grown ups cough.

I pulled off the knit
mittens that my mom had
made me, they dangled from
a string that ran through the
arms of my coat
giving bigger kids something
to yank on during recess
and formed into
small mountains when they
touched snow.

I moved quickly, shoving my hands
into my pocket and pulled out
the soldier I had gotten at Good Will.

His rifle was bent and the base
was so warped that he could
only balance against the bottom
of the toilet.

I was told not to play down
there. It makes much more
sense to me now than it did then.

I climbed up to the top
of the small hill by the
curb, making a cave for him
to attack.
The snow became a
war zone and I
its hero.

I attacked the bottom of the
kick ball field fence with great
vigor and kicked 7 colors of hell
out of the Nazis that day and was
working up to an 8th when a horn
blared launching me
out of my boots.

"God damn it!
Get in the
car!
I gotta get home
and make dinner.
Yer father's
coming home drunk so
I want you to stay upstairs.
You hear me?"

I thought: "How was
your day mom?"

"Do anything interesting, like
go to work? Can we stop by Good Will
again? They have another soldier
I want."

The Volvo sputtered and
coughed as mom played the
clutch like a four-thumbed
dealer.

"I'm sorry honey. I didn't mean
to snap. How was your day?"

"It was okay...I was killing
Nazis and such."

My mom chuckled and told me
to reach into the top of her purse.

Inside was a piece of cardboard
attached to a plastic bag and
inside were 20 soldiers, though
smaller than the one I had.

"I know it's not like your other one
but..."

Her voice trailed off and I could
see the tears forming in her eyes.

I wanted to scream.

"We can leave now! We can pick up Sara and go, we can let dad drink himself to
death then he won't yell at you anymore
or hit me for not being better or...

we could just leave."

Instead

"It's okay mom. He will just be my general. Soldiers need generals, mom."

That night I went home and took a sandwich up to my room
made forts out of my blankets
and the dresser.
I kept a close eye on the teddy bear Nazis and stayed quiet as my father watched T.V.