Empty Plate

Empty Plate

I sat alone in my little bedroom, reading a children’s book, looking at pictures of far away places and stars that seemed to beckon to me as if to say, “come to me!” I smiled as I imagined starships crossing the vastness of open space, far away from the confines of my little room.

Just as I was about to turn the page, I heard the sound of a sizzling frying pan and the unmistakable scent of homemade French Fries coming from the kitchen. These were not the fries from your usual fast food joint; these were hand sliced into wedges, skin on and all, placed in a cast iron skillet already crackling with cooking oil that burned as hot as the sun and only my Mom could handle it.

The aroma just filled our little duplex so much that the whole neighborhood could catch the scent coming from our kitchen and everyone knew what she was cooking.

I often imagined her as a chef on a space station who served comfort food like a street vender, serving all the weary space travelers that docked there. I think I called it “Mom’s Asteroid Diner”.

I got up from my bed and walked out into the hallway, almost salivating. My stomach gave a soft rumble as I stepped quietly into the tiny hallway.

“Shhhhh!”, I whispered softly. My stomach tried to obey, but kept on rumbling. I gave a soft sigh as I took another tentative step past the master bedroom.

The door to the master bedroom was still closed which meant that Dad was still sleeping, at least I hoped that was the case. I moved a little closer to the door and heard the sound of a deep snore inside and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I crept into the dining area trying to walk like an astronaut on the moon, bouncing slowly and lightly with every step. Then, I headed to the kitchen and watched as my Mom stirred the potatoes and onions in the frying pan, and listened to the sound of them sizzling and popping in the pan until they had caramelized to a perfect golden brown.

“Excellent food for an astronaut!”, I thought to myself.

She glanced down at my form and smiled warmly, knowing full well that fried potatoes were a fan favorite.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

I froze. I looked at mom as she continued cooking, still stirring potatoes, eyes remaining steady but her lips trembling.

Dad came out of the bedroom and plopped in the easy chair with a scowl etched into his pock marked face, his large stomach hanging over his pajamas.

For a while, he said nothing; he just stared at the tv and muttered to himself.

I turned back to my Mom and waited for a moment, still looking at the potatoes sizzling. I closed my eyes and just imagined my plate filled with them, just waiting to be eaten.

“This is better than any restaurant ever!”, I said to her softly.

She smiled at me and patted my head.“Better go wash up.” I grinned at her in return and started heading to the bathroom, when my Dad suddenly got up from his chair, grabbed his hair almost as if he was going to pull it out. He scowled again and headed towards me, his green, bloodshot eyes bulging.

I felt the palm of his hand push against my chest. My back hit the open door of my room and I hit the floor.

“OUTA THE WAY, DAMMIT!”, he screamed entering the bathroom and slamming the door shut so hard it rocked the whole house.

I sat there on the cold wooden floor, wheezing as I struggled to get up, pressing my hands on the dusty wooden floor.

I started walking back towards our living room, when…

“LENNY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOIN’? IF YOU START EATING BEFORE I GET THERE, YOU’RE IN DEEP TROUBLE!! UMMERSTAM?!??”

I gulped,as his guttural voice boomed through the little bathroom door. Feeling my stomach quake, I said “Uhhh, yes Dad!”

“WELL AWRIGHT!”

I walked back to my bedroom and sat on the edge of my bed, the scent of those fries still filling my nostrils, but my stomach heaving. Tears started forming in my eyes, threatening to fall but I managed to hold them back. I imagined them as rocks in an asteroid field and I had to shoot at them with a laser turret.

BOOM!

The bathroom door slammed shut as my father’s massive form left the little hallway, his hands curling into fists. I watched him leave the hallway before I went to the little bathroom and washed the dust off of my own hands, which were already shaking from the push Dad gave me.

I heard him plop down at the dinner table and it sounded like a cannon going off as scooted the chair.

“YOU DONE, YET?!?!”

“Five seconds!”, she exclaimed, almost sobbing.

I managed to get to the dinner table in time and sat down and stared down at the plate, not daring to meet his baleful gaze. The plastic placemats had already been set out on the little formica chrome dining table.

“YOU GOT SOMETHIN’ YOU WANNA SAY?!?”

I knew he was talking to me and I shook my head vigorously.

“WELL AWRIGHT!!!”, he bellowed. “WHERE THE HELL IS MY FOOD?!?”

Within a few minutes, Mom came out of the little kitchen holding a place for Dad filled with a small pork chop, with a side of seasoned broccoli and her famous fried potatoes. Within a few moments, he had already wolfed down the chop and was halfway through the potatoes.

With trembling hands, Mom brought my plate and set it down in front of me. Pork chop cooked with sliced apples and a side of sliced potatoes. I let out a sigh as I looked at the plate and then…

A large, meaty hand reached across the table and started taking the fried potatoes from my plate. I looked up and his bulging, bloodshot green eyes staring at me, his mouth forming a sadistic grin as he continued stealing those succulent fried potatoes right from my plate.

One, two, three, four, all of them vanishing into his all consuming mouth, like stars that fell victim to a black hole's fury. Each wedge seemed to wink out of existence, unable to escape the inevitable gravity.

His eyes burned like erupting solar flares as he stared at me with malicious delight.

Soon, they were all gone, leaving the chop and the apples and shortly after, he gobbled them up too.

I looked to my mom, who gave me a worried look but said nothing, because she dared not.

As soon as I turned back to face my Dad, he had already gotten up and was pointing directly at me laughing in derision, his mouth still filled with uneaten fried potatoes.

He walked away from the table and slouched in the easy chair in front of the tv, totally ignoring the seasoned broccoli on his plate and leaving me staring down at my own plate which was as empty as a barren asteroid orbiting a dead planet far away from the stars that once called to me.