Broken Spectacles.

 A story by Leon G

                                         

A magic lantern movie ingeniously contrived using comic strips. Holding the box up for her to see, eyes pleading to be noticed. Ma carried on her knitting.

Fingers, like claws, gripped the eyewear, twisting the expensive metal frame, into debris.

Objects of value to himself, things he can’t do without, like his eyeglasses, ruined.

Up early to make sure that his hair was neatly combed. White shirt, neatly ironed, laid out ready for the memorable day. The broad tie, blue stars on a red background, a victory garland dangling on his puffed up chest, shined like silk.

The hand moved over the smooth material. Decorative clothing took hours to put on, making him late for school.

This was the day the grade portrait would be taken

Scrutinizing the arrangement of the pupils, according to height, taking a step backward, hand on chin, smiling, the bald-headed photographer pressed a button, and the historic event was chronicled for posterity.

The tallest guy in the group appeared laughing, to be without ugly lenses hiding his nose. A face divested of goggles for the first time in his life.

All the kids were shorter than him, not cheerful, just with sheepish grins on their faces. Maligned, always playing second fiddle, the youth had a broad smile, the only happy person in the scene. An imagined hero.

The sparkling wire frame, that held the circular lenses smashed, the pieces strewn on the wooden floor. Raucous mocking pursued him wherever he went.

“I'll do it by myself, go to hell all of you”. Became the motto of his life.

 

Kicks and curses directed at offers of sympathy and attempts to help. Shaking their heads, kind-hearted people turned their backs on him.

The child swore at his mother. “sorry doesn’t cover it”, A friend lost. The teacher he adored, patted his head trying to pacify him and got kicked in the shins.

 

Holding his hand to keep him safe crossing the road with heavy traffic, the aunt he loved most, nearly had a heart attack, when he tore loose and ran into the thoroughfare.

Morbid silence reigned. Laughter frowned upon, whistling and singing brought the command: “Don’t do that in the house”. 

A record player met with a firm “No”. One cropped up at a sale. Slow bidding, in a moment of pity for the nagging son, his father made an offer, “Going once, going twice, sold to Mr.C” The auctioneer’s hammer banged. 

The youth listened to 78 rpm vinyl recordings. Sweet songs, like “Flowers, who will buy”, “Donkey Serenade”, “Dancing in the Dark”, etc. As a single woman, mother lived a life of fun. 

A well-built, handsome teenager, jiving and be bopping Tunes from her collection. Purchased with hard-earned cash in her father’s hardware shop.

All ended when she married the old-fashioned, prudent, and, ambitious man, her age, whom her father liked. The gay life was over, and years of bringing children into the world in front of her.

She bore him a son. Sharp eyesight, champion swimmer, on the school shooting team, and phenomenal memory. Expert in everything, Geography, history, mathematics

Mother had eyes and a smiling face for him. Nothing for her second offspring, the half-blind, dull-witted one.

The new sibling arrived, like a traveler in a foreign city. Valuable personality traits, like perseverance, tolerance, and sensitivity to the suffering of others, went unseen by parents and relatives, blinded by the competence of the two-year-old.

An intruder in the ideal family. The deficient kid needed help.

Strong and wise, the bigger fellow adopted the role of protector of his infant kin, a toy for the smart one to play with and protect

Second place all his life. The second-born longed to be creative, but everything he wanted to do was already done. The earlier arrival stole the idea, saying he would do it for Junior.

Models constructed, and always improved by the senior child. “Lucky chap, to have such a kind and competent caring brother. 

Gratitude was always expected of him. Smashing a model car in anger at not being allowed to build it with his own hands, was a sign of ingratitude. Punishment followed until he begged for forgiveness.

Meekness, timidity and hesitation, for fear of doing something better than the chosen one, resulted. The most disastrous failures befell him when he strove to be assertive.

Stupid, everyone is capable not him.

Mental Anguish took hold of him when ordered to write an essay, draw a picture, or put his room in order. Nothing was done well.

The fury that rises in him, when his word is doubted is beyond a normal response to an insult. Accusations of unreliability shatter his existence, making him feel useless and unwanted. These situations end up in him taking out his feelings on himself.