by Starsky Hutch 76
That evening, the streets of that block were quiet once more — that is, except for the house of Bobby Addison, which lay on the other side of the tall wooden fence.
The street light outside cast a path through his window, across his toy-covered dresser, to the end of the bed in which he lay, silently weeping. On this night, like most, he listened to the sound of shouting voices coming from downstairs and shook with fear of what was to come.
“Is it too much to ask to come home to a clean house and a hot meal after I’ve been at work all day?” a male voice shouted.
“I did clean!” a frightened female voice cried.
“You call this clean?” the man shouted. “There’s $%&* stacked up here…” Crash. “$%%& stacked up here…” Another crash. “Here…” Crash.
“Stop it…” Bobby moaned.
“And to top it all off, my damn food’s cold!”
“If you’d just come home straight from work instead of going out, or at least call…” the female voice cried.
“Oh, now you’re gonna give me lip on top of everything?” the man shouted. “That’s it!” The air was filled with the sound of crashing, hitting, and anguished sobs.
“Stop it!” Bobby cried, burying his head under his pillow. “Stop hurting her!”
His eyes covered, he did not see as his G.I. Jake doll suddenly turned its head in his direction, giving a salute. It cocked its service rifle and jumped from the top of his dresser to the floor. Marching toward the doorway, it grew taller and more realistic with every step.