Rebound, But Newfound [boyxboy]

Rebound, But Newfound {21}

                I rang the doorbell and Brady let me inside. I took my shoes off and he led me down to the basement. Their basement was basically a creepy workshop. Brady liked to make simple things out of wood, like clocks, desks, and chairs.

                “Just take a seat there,” he said, nodding at one of the chairs he’d made.

                I sat down in it and Brady sat across from me. We stared at each other for a minute, both waiting for the other to speak. Finally, I broke the silence.

                “Do you have any idea what’s wrong with Tommy?” I asked.

                Brady shook his head and sighed. “Tommy’s my son, and I love him. Of course I do. But I knew from the time he was little that he would be like this. If he can’t control his emotions, he wants someone else to. When he’s upset, he’ll listen to anyone,” he said.

                He ran a hand through his hair. “Broke his thumb down here. When he was six years old, he was upset because Sammy and Mikey were picking on him terribly. Almost made him cry. So he came downstairs and I told him to let his anger out by hammering a few nails into a board of wood. But I specifically told him to do it slowly and carefully. Tommy had used a hammer before, but not when he was angry. Smashed his thumb flat. Screamed like a banshee.”

                Brady met my questioning eyes. “I know what you’re thinking. Why would I let my angry six year old play with a hammer?” I nodded. That was exactly what I was thinking.

                “Call it a cruel lesson, Zeke. I didn’t mean for him to break his thumb. I hadn’t realized he was that upset. I just figured he’d bruise it a little or something. Tommy doesn’t know how to let his feelings out in a healthy way,” he explained, shrugging to show he knew he sounded mean.

                “He lets out his feelings during soccer,” I protested.

                Brady shook his head. “That’s not healthy. Not the way he does it, at least. Tommy tries to hurt the other team. He plays rough and dirty. And he’s not good about talking about things that upset him. Right now, he’s up in his room sulking and throwing things around, because he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s always been childish like that, and he probably always will be.”

                “But how does that help me now?” I asked miserably.

                I thought that Brady would know what to do about Tommy. Brady seemed to be the only person that knew how to handle Tommy when he got like this.

                “It doesn’t,” Brady said with another shrug. “There is no way to calm Tommy down, except to let him get his anger out. He usually wrestles with Sammy and Mikey and feels better. But with his bad ankle, he’s basically trapped with his feelings.”

                “What if I wrestle him carefully?” I asked slowly, trying to think this out.

                Brady stood up and pulled out a board of wood and a ruler. “Do what you need to do Zeke. Just don’t hurt him,” he said, measuring the wood. “Maybe if you make him angry enough, he’ll blurt out his problem. I’ve never seen him this furious before.”

                I got up and made my way upstairs. I stared at Tommy’s bedroom door and chewed on my lip nervously. Should I just leave him alone?

                “Get out means get out!”

                The furious voice erupted from Tommy’s room. His door was flung open and Sammy stumbled out, looking shocked. His shock changed to fury.