The Folding ~ CJ SHEA

The Folding

CJ SHEA

We would play catch in the autumn breeze, tossing the four seams at each other’s mitts through the falling leaves. I would huck in a few curve balls and switch up the pace to keep myself entertained. You would help me practice tracking down pop-flys. You would fling the ball towards the clouds and it would disappear for a split second at its peak. On its way back down, I would follow my instincts and run to its destination. But as the ball picked up speed, more times than not, it landed in the grass. We’d beeline to the pool afterward to take a dip before you would start preparing dinner. You’d toss some refined carbs in the microwave and head over to the Weber to grill up some of your infamous chicken. I would drown the meal in ketchup and chase it with some kool-aid. I remember our poker games. You had a stone-cold poker face which kept me on my toes and I would fold too early. Hand after hand my mind would become fatigued. We’d play until someone collected all the chips; but my lack of mental fortitude ended our games early. I folded too early. At dusk, we would laugh over Adam Sandler’s movies till my eyelids became heavy. You would wake me up at dawn with the smell of blueberry pancakes seeping from the kitchen. You would drive me to school every morning in your Toyota Corolla, blasting country music while I listened to my music through earbuds. You’d say, “Have a good day,” and then I’d nod my head and walk away. If I heard you say those words again, they’d become a reality. I remember when they would bark at each other all night, making it impossible for my mind to settle. Only if I knew my fate, I would have intervened. I thought the tension would subside, but it persisted. Our daily catches in the backyard became weekly as you claimed to be “busy.” Their screaming wars began to snowball. Waking up to the smell of blueberry pancakes became rare, giving me no desire to get up. After one of your late-night battles, I remember the rubble throughout the house when you smashed the door shut. The vibration shattered my heart and pierced my lungs. A warm sensation jolted through my body as my emotions took real estate in my mind. I was used to their screaming for another hour or two. I became more restless in the silence, as it reminded me of your absence. The days dragged on and the nights even longer. I would listen to country music on the bus ride to school, with my grilled chicken and white rice secured in my backpack. After school, I’d drag my feet to the back door of the house. I would pass by the backyard and glance at the baseball embedded in the overgrown grass from our last catch. Our poker games are what I envy the most when I look back at my time with you. One day when I was rummaging through my closet, searching through clothes and old textbooks, I found our poker set resting at the bottom. I dusted off the front and popped open the latches. When I opened it, the cards and chips were jumbled besides two cards that laid face down off to the side. I reached for the cards and flipped them face up. A Pair of Aces. I folded too early.