"...Memorial Aquarium is planning an exhibit this Saturday..." the television announced. Billy's heart jumped.
"...estimated to be a $30-$40 admission. Out of town interest has made the price climb..." His heart sank again. He didn't have that kind of money.
The scowl on his mother's face let him know she didn't approve, but she confirmed it by shouting, "Mermaid nonsense! Why would anyone waste their money. I wouldn't be caught dead gawking at no mermaid. Hmph"
Billy sighed. There had been small enough hope of getting the money from his mother, but there was no way he could get it from her now. He couldn't understand how she could love the idiotic blatherings of the television, and not find a revelation like a real live mermaid to be fascinating. Sometimes he couldn't believe they were actually related.
The television had now moved on to other news. Some scientists claimed you could get cancer from dish soap. His mother's jaw was hanging open, fascinated. He thought he saw a small line of drool drip down the corner of her mouth.
Disgusted, he threw his book on the table and propelled himself out of the old musty chair. His keys were hanging on a hook by the door, and he paused long enough to snatch them with a loud jingling.
"I'm going out." He announced.
His mother turned her head briefly, just noticing that he had moved.
"Oh." She said, "Well. Have fun." And then returned to her stupor.
He hadn't really expected a reply. Maybe his mother had been watching shows on parenting. She had even made the extra effort of looking him in the eye.
With a slam of the door he stomped out into the night. It wasn't fair. All his life he'd been held back by his mother's stupidity. Any money he managed to save from odd jobs had to be spent on food and clothing, so they wouldn't starve when his mother finally realized the money had run out. The most important event of his life occurred, and he couldn't even scrounge a measly thirty or forty dollars.
But then he thought of all the stories he'd read. The hero was always being thwarted in achieving their goals. Heroes never gave up, even when the odds seemed insurmountable. They would use their cleverness and their friends to help them achieve their goals.
Then he thought of it. Rose. She'd lent him money before, and for far less important things.
"...estimated to be a $30-$40 admission. Out of town interest has made the price climb..." His heart sank again. He didn't have that kind of money.
The scowl on his mother's face let him know she didn't approve, but she confirmed it by shouting, "Mermaid nonsense! Why would anyone waste their money. I wouldn't be caught dead gawking at no mermaid. Hmph"
Billy sighed. There had been small enough hope of getting the money from his mother, but there was no way he could get it from her now. He couldn't understand how she could love the idiotic blatherings of the television, and not find a revelation like a real live mermaid to be fascinating. Sometimes he couldn't believe they were actually related.
The television had now moved on to other news. Some scientists claimed you could get cancer from dish soap. His mother's jaw was hanging open, fascinated. He thought he saw a small line of drool drip down the corner of her mouth.
Disgusted, he threw his book on the table and propelled himself out of the old musty chair. His keys were hanging on a hook by the door, and he paused long enough to snatch them with a loud jingling.
"I'm going out." He announced.
His mother turned her head briefly, just noticing that he had moved.
"Oh." She said, "Well. Have fun." And then returned to her stupor.
He hadn't really expected a reply. Maybe his mother had been watching shows on parenting. She had even made the extra effort of looking him in the eye.
With a slam of the door he stomped out into the night. It wasn't fair. All his life he'd been held back by his mother's stupidity. Any money he managed to save from odd jobs had to be spent on food and clothing, so they wouldn't starve when his mother finally realized the money had run out. The most important event of his life occurred, and he couldn't even scrounge a measly thirty or forty dollars.
But then he thought of all the stories he'd read. The hero was always being thwarted in achieving their goals. Heroes never gave up, even when the odds seemed insurmountable. They would use their cleverness and their friends to help them achieve their goals.
Then he thought of it. Rose. She'd lent him money before, and for far less important things.
