When Donny Gets Blue
When Donny gets blue, he sits in front of his computer and watches other people fornicate in the most absurd ways. Sometimes he went to the “BOOB! site”, or the “Gay Asian” site, “The Older Women” site, the “Black on Black”, “Hot Housewives”, “Naughty Teens”... you know the drill.
When Donny got blue, he watched other people do things to each other that are absurd, and it comforted him.
He never got tired of it. He worked hard to find the free images, and clicked his way into flesh and sweat and motion.
He wandered through the cyber-maze of humanity, all naked and grunting, all motion and isolation.
It comforted him in a way that men get comfort in a good wank, an open mouth, a wet place. It was a pleasant relief. A sweet, temporal distraction.
Then, one day, something happened. He was on one of those free sites, his eyes were fixed on the screen, wide with the chemical response that takes all other matters out of your mind. It was in the afternoon, and he played music in the background. Then, to his surprise, he thought he saw his mother. Not his real mother, but the woman he called his mother. Lois.
He watched her face, covered with too much make up, phony and used-up looking. He stared at her, trying to make her someone else.
Yet, he knew it was her. He studied her face and watched, sickened and confused. He wanted to stop watching, but couldn't, this woman was his sweet step-mother, Lois. His Lois, the one his old man used to beat up - the only one who defended him - the one who made him breakfast.
This is the woman that put Vicks Vapor Rub on his chest, and sang him little songs when he was six. She was grunting and writhing on the screen, mascara smeared, skin bruised.
This was the woman that made his life bearable when he was a kid. She was his only mommy. She'd let him sit on her lap when they watched TV, her arms around him. She loved him, or at least made him feel loved, made him feel safe. It was his private history. Even when his father had one of his evil nights, Lois would come back in the bedroom, hold him tight, and whisper to him, "All the bad things go away, let the good things come to stay, all the sadness is not real, happy day tomorrow --" then she'd kiss his brow and tuck him in and he felt as if all the sadness would go away.
Donny watched and remembered the day she left them - the exact day. It was a fall afternoon. He came home from school and the house was a wreck. That sinking feeling came over him; he wandered through the place and found his father sitting in the big chair, fuming with rage. Donny knew to make himself invisible when his dad huffed and clenched his jaws like that. He made his way to the bedroom, and sat on the bed. He remembered knowing that Lois was gone. Nothing was said. The house was a wreck and she was gone. That was it.
He was so young; it was a memory that created an empty feeling in his body, in his gut. That night he cried into the pillow, so his dad wouldn't hear him and felt his heart break inside his chest. It was a frightening, silent night, the night she left. Donny remembered how he tried to clean up the house that night, how his dad didn't move from the chair, how he ached inside himself. And at the end of the night, hungry and exhausted, Donny crawled under his bed without a song, without a kind hand to brush away his bangs, and without Lois. He just kept quiet, and put the chair against the door to keep his dad out, and fell asleep under the bed.
As he watched the image on the computer, the memory of it all flooded his senses.
He switched it off and took a deep breath. He was six years old again. He was sad like a little child all over again. He lost Lois twice now.
He was no longer comforted.