16
Tommy sucked in a gulp of air when he heard two car doors close in the driveway, and the real world flooded back into his consciousness. He quickly looked around to see if there was anything his mother could find fault with when he saw them. There they were on the bookshelf in all their golden mediocrity, five Little League Participation trophies. He scooped them into his arms tucking the fifth one under his chin, and sprinted for the steps. The steps to the second floor were in the living room facing the front door. He was sure he could make it upstairs before they got to the door. He was wrong. As he came running into the living room his mother stepped back from the door to let Anne and her mother in. Tommy froze, his mind a muddle trying to decide whether to turn around or run upstairs. His sudden stop liberated the trophy under his chin, and it landed with a thud at his feet. The round bottom made a few revolutions. He tried to shrink into the carpet, but he hadn’t quite mastered that superpower yet.
“You ok, honey?” Mrs. Homer asked. Anne didn’t make a sound, but Tommy could hear her laughing in his mind.
“What on earth are you doing?” his mom asked, as she bent down to pick up the fallen trophy.
“Mmmm, you said pick up the family room,” was the only answer he had.
“We’ll discuss this later,” she said in her best controlled mom voice as she tucked number five back under his chin. “Take them up to your room, and then come right back down.”
Tommy climbed the stairs a little hunched as he tried to prevent a repeat of his humiliation. “Good god,” he whispered to himself as he let the trophies clatter onto his bed, “could I possibly look any lamer?” He walked over to his desk, sat down, and held his head in his hands. After a few minutes he took in a deep breath, tilted his head back and blew it out. He was hoping that if he were very quiet his mother would get involved in her conversation and forget that he was in the house. He pulled out some overdue homework and started