Versus Arcade

The Arcade is buzzing with children. Their screaming always drives me crazy. Mom knows it, but she still thought it would be great to take the family out.  “Like old times.” she said. The ‘Versus’ arcade hall. The place to be for apathetic divorced dads and their hell-spawn, open all weekend! 

“We used to go there when you were young,” she bartered this morning when she saw the look on my face. “Come on, do it for your father.” was supposed to be the gamechanger to force me to enjoy the day. Dad left last month. His reason: To get some ‘peace of mind’. “Come on, please?” She whines. I rolled my eyes. “Sure mom” I did it for her. 

So here I am playing games I no longer enjoy, and which I’m no longer good at. I’ve lost my three credits in Resident Evil before finishing the first level. A shame. I thought at least shooting something would do me some good. I put the gun back and I look around. They’re sitting at the low tables playing Jenga. I see my mom talking and throwing her hair back when she laughs. His turn, a tricky one, he knocks the tower over.  Mom rebuilds the blocks three by three each layer while dad looks at his phone. Mom spots me and waves me over.

Mom smiles at me. “This is fun, isn’t it? ” I try to smile “Do play a game with your father, I’d be happy to sit this one out and watch, it’s too stressful for me.” She laughs and throws her hair back. Dad sees and looks at me. “Game on, son.”. His phone still in his hand. 

Reluctantly I play, and I hate myself for actually wanting to win. Turn by turn I analyze the pieces, to see which one I can pull to not make the tower collapse. I take one, he takes one. On and on. Dad’s face has that expression I remember from when he pulled splinters out of my fingers. A tense forehead and the tip of his tongue out of his mouth. “I have to pee.” I say, and as I get up, my leg hits the table and the tower falls. Dad claims proudly: “That still counts.”.

Mom cheers for him, and asks me. “Darling, can you bring all of us some colas?” “Sure”.

As I make my way to the toilet, two of those children run around the place. “Those are my tickets!” screams the fatter one to the faster one. “I paid so they’re mine” The smaller replies. Their cat and mouse game plays out around my body and I pull my arms up in a reflex. “Hey, guys” I say too softly. The two run off anyway. Off to bother each other and hopefully someone else. 

In the stall of the toilet, I finally find some peace. No messages on my phone. I sit there and check. The messages on the wall the same as when I was a child. Stacey’s apparently still up for a call whenever. I get out and wash my hands. The crude letters I made together with my friend from school are still etched in between the sink and the hand-dryer. Timmy? Tommy? I can’t remember, It started with a T at least. I must’ve been about eight then. Scratching my house key in the green tiles while whats-his-face kept a lookout. 

I see Mom first, and then Dad with her. Playing Resident Evil now. Looking like elderly people trying to participate in being young. They’ve not noticed me, because they’re about to hit level two. I ask the bartender for the drinks. A preppy girl. Pretty cute. 

Dad is hit and he complains. “Come on, try a bit harder.” Mom apologizes, he continues as he points to the screen; “You can see them coming! Come on!” My mom apologizes again, but loses focus and gets hit by the next wave. “See! I can’t save both of us if you’re playing like that!” he screams. Mom freezes, like she always does and gets bitten by another zombie. Digital blood seeps from the top of the screen. Game Over. Dad slams his gun back in it’s holder “You know, we were almost there, but you had to ruin it.” He steps away from the game. “Big surprise.” he laughs sarcastically. Mom is paralyzed, clutching the pink gun in her arms. “I’m so sorry.” she whimpers. “I’m sorry.”

“Put the gun down. Mom.” I order. I fight to keep from screaming. “You don’t deserve this, come on. Stand up for yourself.” She is looking at me with big eyes as I take the gun from her hand and put it back. ”Look what you did today. For him. I didn’t want to go here, you know. and he clearly didn’t, did you?” I scream.

“He only came to keep things ok-ish. And you wanted to recreate some sort of small memory from when I was eight. Did you really believe that would work?” Pointing to my father I continue ”Look at him. Really mom, Look at him. His pants are new, but too tight. He has a new haircut you don’t like and that stupid tattoo that he got last week, because “it’s now or never” Come on! Open your eyes!”

For the first time that whole day the children around don’t make any sound.

“You’re crawling on the floor for him to look at you. Your low cut top and annoying giggling. Ha!” I scoff. “What, to make him love you again?” I look around. Mother is crying now, clearly shocked by my explosion, and everybody who wasn’t alarmed is now also looking at this my class entertainment. Well here you go people, I’m not done. 

“Right now! I am done, No, I’m saying it is done. You are never crawling or begging or anything to him anymore. You are worth more.”

I take a breath and look at my father. I feel my mother grabbing my arm, pulling herself closer to me, shaking. 

My so-called dad is just standing there, mouth half open, but without the focused tip of the tongue out. He looks at us, standing arm in arm opposite him. He scans the people and then back to me. With a sly smile he scoffs; “Look who finally grew up”.