Traps

Abstract

Traps Mary Alice Hostetter (bio) Hap woke up before the alarm went off and switched on the light. He rolled on his side and looked at the framed photo on the bedside table. It was a picture of him with his parents and Valerie, his sister. His aunt Mildred had taken it on Easter a few weeks before his mother died, and they were all dressed up. Dad even wore a tie, probably the last time he had one on, that day and for the funeral. [End Page 79] The photo was torn right above Dad's head, and Hap knew when that tear had happened. It was one day they'd had an argument about Hap using the truck, and Dad had told him it was a good thing his Mama didn't live to see what a poor excuse for a son he'd turned out to be. Hap slammed into his bedroom. Sitting on the bed, looking at the picture, he was so mad he wanted to tear his dad out of it. By the time he'd taken the frame apart and started ripping it down the middle, Hap remembered it was the last picture he had of the whole family, so he taped it up and put it back in the frame. Even with the tape, you could see where it was torn. Hap got up, dressed and went to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator to get out the milk. On the refrigerator, held up with a magnet from the hardware store, was a picture of Valerie's baby. She'd sent it with his bus ticket. Over spring break he'd visit her in Kentucky, and see the baby. Having never been around a baby before, Hap didn't know how it would feel to be an uncle, but he was excited about seeing his sister. When Valerie was living at home, things were better. She kept the house clean and made dinner for them every night. It almost felt like a real home. All three of them sat together to eat. If Dad worked late, Hap and Valerie ate together. In summer she took care of the flower beds and put fresh flowers in a jar in the middle of the table, like Mama. Now he and Dad were on their own, and Hap'd forgotten half the things Valerie had taught him how to cook. The last time he'd tried to make macaroni and cheese, even though it was from a box, he'd done something wrong, and it tasted so bad he had to throw it out. He'd made the cube steak with tomato sauce Valerie had taught him, and thought he'd done it right, but it didn't taste like hers. He was sure she'd ask him what he was eating, and he didn't want to admit most of it came from cans, and sometimes he didn't even heat things up. [End Page 80] He took the cereal out of the rusted metal cabinet, grabbed a mixing bowl from the cupboard over the sink and poured a bowl of corn flakes. He was sitting at the kitchen table eating when he heard Dad coming down the hall from his bedroom. Dad opened the door to the coal stove and slammed it shut. "Damn lazy kid," he said, "think you're too good to empty the ashes?" "Wouldn't hurt you to do a little," Hap said. "You know damn well the doctor said I'm not supposed to strain myself." "Guess he told you to drink till you pass out too." "What the doctor says is none of your business. I guess having your Mama dead isn't enough without killing me off too." Hap shoved his chair so hard it fell over. He kicked it out of his way. He left his bowl on the table, a few corn flakes still floating in the milk on the bottom. Not even taking time to wet his hair and comb down his cowlick, he grabbed his denim jacket and backpack off the hook next to the cupboard and left without saying a word, slamming...