Theatrically Sporadic

How many times can the prodigal son return?

Danny was the last one to the front window, pushing his way up to the sill. His father, two sisters, and three brothers were all pressed against the glass, and it was all little Danny could do to get a glimpse of Thomas getting out of the car in the driveway. Thomas saw them all in the window and flashed his "all's-great" sign: pinky and forefinger held out with his arms straight above his head. He smiled; he loved coming home.

He walked to the door, which opened before he could even get out his keys. Danny was first this time, jumping at his brother who caught him affectionately and hugged him close. "You're not so little anymore, Little Man!"

Danny smiled and squirmed down, taking Thomas' hand and leading him into the house as if he were a personal pet. Everyone greeted him at once, exclaiming how wonderful it was that he was home, how was Arizona, where the derricks really that big, did he have a girlfriend, how long could he stay this time?

Thomas Garett Holmes—known more affectionately to family and friends as Tommy G—was never more fulfilled than we he was basking in the generosity of the family. He hugged and accepted hugs until he had to excuse himself. It had been a long trip, and he had to "pay the water bill," as his mother liked to put it. As he came out of the bathroom, he saw his mother standing in the kitchen doorway waiting for him, leaning on the jamb with her arms crossed. Unlike the rest of the family, she wasn't smiling; unlike the rest of the family, she was neither happy nor pleased that he was here.

"Hello, Thomas," she greeted him wearily.

Thomas nodded his head. "Hi, Mom."

"What is it this time, son? Oil fields too hard? Boss too mean? Just general—"

Thomas's father, Keno, interrupted. "Diane, the boy's been back ten minutes, and three of that he was in the can. Let's talk everything out over dinner. We'll go to Latigo's."

Diane turned on her husband. The move was slight, but both Thomas and Keno recognized the motion was dangerous as a coiling snake. "Keno, we can't afford Latigo's!"

"Tommy G's home since how long, and you want us to eat PB&J or what? Latigo's it is, and that's final!"

Diane shot daggers at Keno with her eyes but kept her venom to herself for once.




Thomas saw the kitchen light on as he approached the bathroom. All he wanted was to go to the bathroom then go to bed. He didn't want to get into—

"Thomas."

Thomas grimaced, settled his face, and walked into the kitchen. "You're up late, Mom."

Diane looked at him. She wasn't glaring, at least; but she certainly wasn't smiling. "Come on and sit down, son. Let's have it."

"Mom—"

"Sit!" The snake-strike of Diane's temper flashed then coiled back up. Thomas sat almost automatically. "It's been what, three years? Two visits, a few hours each? Each time asking for a loan?" She paused letting the question hang in the air. What is it this time?

Thomas looked at the table and said nothing. After all, she wasn't lying.

"When's it gonna change? You know your father's never going to say no, but you know we don't have enough to give. Shelly's driving a junkpile back and forth to campus; Dean's wearing Sully's old clothes. And here you come accepting the big dinners, the fatted calf." She paused. "And you haven't even dropped the bomb on what else you're going to ask for."

"Mom, it just seems that way. You know I—"

She didn't strike, but her words cut. "I know you're a taker."

Thomas couldn't think of anything else to say. He pushed back from the table and sulked up to the room Sully and Kyle had vacated for the duration of his stay. You're a taker.




"I'll pay it back, Dad, I promise."

Keno patted Thomas on the back. "I know, buddy. Sometimes you just need a boost; we've all been there."

"You gotta understand, back on the rigs—"

"You're safe, Tommy. You get em paid off. Hit the books, not the bookies, eh?" He paused, then brightened. "So tell me about the Jensen Mine Company! You said it's a new silver lode?"

They talked on the front porch for another five minutes. Then Thomas got in his little Honda with a crisp check written on the account of Keno & Diane Holmes in his wallet and drove off. Diane joined her husband on the porch. She was silent, but Keno defended himself anyway. "He's our son, Diane! If he can't come here when he's in need, where can he go?" She went back inside without a word, but she had made her point.

@-----@-----@

"What's it been this time, Thomas? Four years? You missed Dean's graduation, you know. He waited the whole time looking all over the crowd for you. When he didn't see you, he walked up to get his diploma like he'd been condemned instead of graduating."

Thomas looked at his mother. She seemed to have aged ten years since the last time he saw her. Her clothes were shabby and her hands were chapped. "Mom, what's the matter, you look sick."

She ignored his question. "Guess he didn't have anything you needed."

Thomas turned and stormed out of the kitchen, angry, embarrassed, and guilty. He went upstairs to the room Diane had prepared for him— prepared for him with her own tired, chapped hands. Presently, he heard his parents downstairs. Keno was trying to keep quiet, but Diane was beyond caring what Thoms heard. "You're going to give him anything he asks for, Keno, so why talk to me about it at all! He can see how hard we work; he said as much tonight. But you watch. He'll ask...and you'll give."

"He's my son!"

"He's our son! And so are Danny and Dean and Sully! And each of them are busting their ass in the trenches, and when they come home we have hamburgers and dogs and we're all happy. But when Thomas comes home, it's Latigo's and fat steaks."

"I save enough—"

"How?! The boy only visits when he needs something! Danny comes home once a month. Dean calls me once a week. But Thomas is god knows where for god knows how long until POOF! here he is with his mouth open and his hand out!"

Thomas laid down and drifted into a troubled sleep.

And in the morning, he promised he'd pay Keno back, he was sorry, the mine had been a sure thing on paper...

@-----@-----@

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, Mom. I know it's been a while" Thomas laid a fresh bundle of roses on the headstone. "I tried to get back for the funeral, but..." But you're a taker.

Thomas reflected that no matter how unpredictable his visits might be, his mother's words would be as consistent as time. You're a taker.

@-----@-----@

"I'm serious this time, Dad. Even the government is investing in this technology. I'll be able to pay you back in no time..."