March 20, 2005

[Inspired by Chapter 3 of Healing the Masculine Soul]

As usual, I’m lying on the couch reading, with our dog Rajee by my side.  Probably a Hardy Boys or Tom Swift Jr. novel; maybe an Isaac Asimov sci-fi story.  I rarely play outside or have friends over.   It must be before dinner, since afterwards I’m almost always watching TV, unless my brother Larry and I are having one of our periodic Monopoly marathons with his friends.  At least, I did until high school when I got immersed in theater and broke my TV habit; so, I must be around twelve, in eighth grade (1979).

Dad’s not around, but that’s hardly unusual, as he always gets home late.

Just then I hear a pounding on the door; which is quite unusual, since most people just ring the doorbell.   Mom jumps a little; she’s been a little edgy all day, almost as if she were expecting something like this.  Rajee barks, gets up, and runs towards the door.   Which is also unusual, at least the barking; she’s still young enough to run, but ordinarily she just ‘whuffles’ softly when we have a visitor.