TROUBLE  IN  RIVER CITY

[This is a story based on something someone told me happened to their brother's family recently.  I wrote the story this morning for a high school Mass.]

Sometimes we never know what’s going on inside the mind of the kid in front of us in our home room. We see his skull - the back of his head - but we don’t know what’s going on behind those walls. We see the cover of the book - but we haven’t read the pages of that book.

Sit in that classroom long enough and we know they are bright … smart … a good athlete …. Or what have you. But that’s all we know.

Okay we also know their name - Tina, Tom  or Tony. We know what neighborhood they come from. We know they have two other siblings. And maybe a dozen more tidbits about them - but that’s about it.

This year - just 4 weeks ago - from Holy Thursday, Easter, and then the rest of Easter week this kid sitting in front of us was  in Disneyworld - first time for all the family - but Tom told no one in his class about the trip.

Actually, Tom really didn’t want to go - because it was a long car ride trip from River City to Orlando. It meant he’d be in the back seat - directly behind his father - in their dark red old Camry. Actually Tom liked that seat - because it was the best place, best space to hide out in a tight car.

Tom’s father was a yeller. Tom’s father was an angry man.  Tom’s father could explode in verbal outbursts all the time.

On the road it could be toll collectors.  “They’re too damn slow! There on their cell phones. They don’t give a damn about all us poor slobs trying to get to Florida - to Disneyworld.”

“Beep…. Beep …. Beep…. That driver in that blue SUV is an idiot!”

Tom’s dad could be a rapid roaring river.

At home it was mom who got yelled at the most. At other times it could be Tom. He had a brain, but he just wasn’t an A Student. At other times it was his younger brother. Rarely was it was his younger sister - she got away with everything. Yell…. Yell …. Yell…. So that’s why Tom didn’t want to go on a day and a half on the road - in a tight seated back of a car - with an angry at life dad with an acidic tongue.

To save money at Disneyworld, all 5 were in a small motel room - some 18 minutes from Epcot Center, the rides, the whole experience called Disneyworld.

At least once a day - usually in the morning - it was mom whom dad turned his cannons - his blasts - and fire power towards.

At least once a day - Tom would say to himself, “Why doesn’t she just divorce him.

At night, every weekend, when home, his brother and sister hid under their ear buds - trying as best as possible to block out - their dad’s rants.

All through the years Tom tried to hear his mom’s cries - console her - and keep the family together. Those who said, “The oldest in the family have the most responsibilities might be right.

Dad never said, “Thanks” or “Nice going” or “I’m proud of you son.” His sister might get a positive compliment once and a while.

Hey, one kid is usually, the favorite.

The noise, the rides, the background music, the scenes, the settings at Disneyworld, helped distract dad - a bit more than usual - but at least once every day - everyone got at least one shouting match - well not his sister as much - but his mom, his brother, and himself - they got showers of words and attacks written with red stink and words covered with barbed wire.

Tom’s brother had a good musical ear. He was the first in the family who would often start humming the musical score for “Trouble in River City” when dad would go into a tirade.  Even his sister would turn off her iTunes when started humming that song. And the funny thing was that their dad never knew it was directed at him.

Ooops one more thing…. On the way home they drove to their grandfather’s house. They had never met their father’s father before.

Tom was all eyes - without knowing he had an underlying question about his dad. “How did my dad get like this?”

He got the answer on that side trip back home. His father was a Xerox copy of his father.  Their grandfather was also an angry man. Their grandfather was also a yeller.

Tom wanted to ask his father, what was his grandfather like? Could he be in the path or 3 yellers.

That gave Tom an even deeper silence?  What about me?  What am I going to be like: my dad, my grandfather, my great grandfather - or a saint like my mom.

Time will tell…. Nope. I will tell. I will tell my friends and my family and my world, that I am Tom and I will be Peace. I will be  Peace  --- Peace that will be flowing like a river. Amen.