I threw a bird through, then I’m not your son. And what’s this, a therapy session or interrogation? Are you charging me with something or what?’
‘We’re waiting to hear whether your dad is going to press charges.’
‘He won’t.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘He can’t. I’m under sixteen. So if you just let me go now, you won’t waste any of your time.’
‘You’ve already wasted a considerable amount of it.’
‘It’s Christmas Day, I doubt there’s much else for you to do around here.’ He eyed Raphie’s stomach. ‘Other than eat doughnuts.’
‘You’d be surprised.’
‘Try me.’
‘Some idiot kid threw a turkey through a window this morning.’
He rolled his eyes and looked at the clock on the wall, ticking away. ‘Where are my parents?’
‘Wiping grease off their floor.’
‘They’re not my parents,’ he spat. ‘At least, she’s not my mother. If she comes with him to collect me, I’m not going.’
‘Oh, I doubt very much that they’ll come to take you home with them.’ Raphie reached into his pocket and took out a chocolate sweet. He unwrapped it slowly, the wrapper rustling in the quiet room. ‘Did you ever notice the strawberry ones are always the last ones left over in the tin?’ He smiled before popping it in his mouth.
‘I bet nothing’s ever left in the tin when you’re around.’
‘Your father and his partner –’
‘Who, for the record,’ Turkey Boy interrupted Raphie and leaned close to the recording device, ‘is a whore.’
‘They may pay us a visit to press charges.’
‘Dad wouldn’t do that.’ He swallowed, his eyes puffy with frustration.
‘He’s thinking about it.’
‘No he’s not,’ the boy whined. ‘If he is it’s probably because she’s making him. Bitch.’
‘It’s more probable that he’ll do it because it’s now snowing in his living room.’
‘Is it snowing?’ He looked like a child again, eyes wide with hope.
Raphie sucked on his sweet. ‘Some people just bite right into chocolate; I much prefer to suck it.’
‘Suck on this.’ The Turkey Boy grabbed his crotch.
‘You’ll have to get your boyfriend to do that.’
‘I’m not gay,’ he huffed, then leaned forward and the child returned. ‘Ah, come on, is it snowing? Let me out to see it, will you? I’ll just look out the window.’
Raphie swallowed his sweet and leaned his elbows on the table. He spoke firmly. ‘Glass from the window landed on the ten-month-old baby.’
‘So?’ the boy snarled, bouncing back in his chair, but he looked concerned. He began pulling at a piece of skin around his nail.
‘He was beside the Christmas tree, where the turkey landed. Luckily he wasn’t cut. The baby, that is, not the turkey. The turkey sustained quite a few injuries. We don’t think he’ll make it.’
The boy looked relieved and confused all at the same time.
‘When’s my mam coming to get me?’
‘She’s on her way.’
‘The girl with the’, he cupped his hands over his chest, ‘big jugs told me that two hours ago. What happened to her face by the way? You two have a lovers’ tiff?’
Raphie bristled over how the boy spoke about Jessica, but kept his calm. He wasn’t worth it. Was he even worth sharing the story with at all?
‘Maybe your mother is driving very slowly. The roads are very slippy.’
The Turkey Boy thought about that and looked a little worried. He continued pulling at the skin around his nail.
‘The turkey was too big,’ he added, after a long pause. He clenched and unclenched his fists on the table. ‘She bought the same-sized turkey she used to buy when he was home. She thought he’d be coming back.’
‘Your mother thought this about your dad,’ Raphie confirmed, rather than asked.
He nodded. ‘When I took it out of the freezer it just made me crazy. It was too big.’
Silence again.
‘I didn’t think the turkey would break the glass,’ he said, quieter now and looking away. ‘Who knew a turkey could break a window?’
He looked up at Raphie with such desperation that, despite the seriousness of the situation, Raphie had to fight a smile at the boy’s misfortune.
‘I just meant to give them a fright. I knew they’d all be in there playing happy families.’
‘Well, they’re definitely not any more.’
The boy didn’t say anything but seemed less happy about it than when Raphie had entered.
‘A fifteen-pound turkey seems very big for just three people.’
‘Yeah, well, my dad’s a fat bastard, what can I say.’
Raphie decided he was wasting his time. Fed up, he stood up to leave.
‘Dad’s family used to come for dinner every year,’ the boy caved in, calling out to Raphie in an effort to keep him in the room. ‘But they decided not to come this year either. The turkey was just too bloody big for the two of us,’ he repeated, shaking his head. Dropping the bravado act, his tone changed. ‘When will my mam be here?’
Raphie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Probably when you’ve learned your lesson.’
‘But it’s Christmas Day.’
‘As good a day as any to learn a lesson.’
‘Lessons are for kids.’
Raphie smiled at that.
‘What?’ the boy spat defensively.
‘I learned one today.’
‘Oh, I forgot to add retards to that too.’
Raphie made his way to the door.
‘So what lesson did you learn then?’ the boy asked quickly, and Raphie could sense in his voice that he didn’t want to be left alone.
Raphie
