Sorry for the cheap cheep…

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At 10:45 at night with the sounds of a war movie shooting into my imagination, I remembered Ed.

His mother couldn't rinse the Vietnam out of him.

My poor Eddie was so nice until he came home, she would say. It's the war, did it to him.

Stupid woman, he answered.

Oh Eddie! Stop It!

I would watch her wriggle around in the easy chair -- ass stuck and legs propped up while Ed would roll and unroll his gaunt ugly words: stupid female. You're fat and it's your own fault. I don't know how dad put up with you.

Oh Eddie, she would say.

He would bring her dinner on Sundays. He would call and ask, whaddaya want?

He brought her fried fast-food orders folded into stained paper bags.

I wanted a world with everything in it. Ketchup, mustard and hope on a hard roll…

After his mother died, Ed had nobody to hate except me.