The Norm, Moira Johnston

The Norm

His house was the envy of the neighborhood. A massive seven bedrooms, six bathrooms and a sprawling green yard greeted him each day after school. Today however, he was quickly ushered to the patio and forced to sit on the marble bench. It was mid-December, which meant feigning happiness for family portraits. He hated taking pictures. They still gazed at each other with that sickeningly love struck stare made famous by archetypal lovers in corny movies. Joey was sick of it. For his seventh birthday, all Joey asked for was for his parents to separate. “Why can’t you just be normal?” He tried to ask them. “But don’t you like having mommy and daddy living in the same house?” They really weren’t that bright. If his parents separated, Joey would get two Christmas’ just like Timothy. He could even get another summer house on the Cape, if his parents felt really guilty. Joey knew his father would be the one to immediately resort to buying Joey’s affection, so he would only have to work on his mother. She was more righteous than his father. When given the opportunity, she always made him share toys and snacks at school. It made him sick to his stomach. He could finally join the ranks of the divorce-greats. No longer could Claire taunt him with her two puppies – one at each house. He could have three if he really threw a fit. Jordon wouldn’t be able to tease him with the garage his father converted to a game room. Joey could easily have two game room, plus one in the summer house. So Joey sat as far away from his parents and the photographer as possible. He hated this time of year. The holidays meant family portraits. His parents insisted on taking a new family photo every year to go on the Christmas card. They picked out matching sweaters and forced him to sit, smiling in front of the gazebo in the backyard. Joey couldn’t take it anymore.

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But sadly, when he told his idiot parents he wanted them to divorce for his eighth birthday, they just laughed and tussled his hair, messing it up right before the photographer arrived. He hated taking the stupid family portraits. His hair was all he had going for him and they ruined it. “Honey,” they chuckled, “if mommy and daddy divorce, mommy and daddy won’t be happy! Don’t you want mommy and daddy to be happy?” Why did they keep asking? They should know the answer by now. He’d just have to wait a few more years. Five at the very least. In five years, he’d be thirteen, the start of his teenage years and what would shape up to be a very long relationship with a therapist. Ten years might be pushing it. In ten years from now, he would be eighteen and a legal adult, and all his hard work would be for nothing. By then his parents might even have another child. God forbid they have a second son. Joey would have to share his toys, and even his room. It’s not that Joey didn’t like to share, he was just never taught properly. His parents taught him always go for what he wanted most in life. Joey was simply doing what he was told. His parents held hands the whole time at his birthday party that year. He hated them for it. Please try and be normal, he pleaded to no avail. “Joey, we have a surprise for you,” they said in unison, “come into the living room.” He went, reluctantly, and was greeted by the dirty paws of a Golden Retriever. The same kind of dog Anna had. It was a very nice dog, but Joey wished for better. “Come take a picture for us, Honey! Show us how happy you are about your new puppy!” Joey trudged over, and tried to find the good in his gift as he plastered on a fake smile for his mom’s camera.

Moira Johnston ’13

52 Pillars of Salt