Family Game Night

Thursday night, on his way home from work, Bill pulled over, took the booster seat from the back seat and threw it off the bridge into the river. Johnny was nine years old and the tallest kid in his class, but Karen still insisted he use a car seat. She was afraid they would crash and didn’t want him to slide out of the grown-up sized seatbelt, fly through the windshield, and be grated up by the asphalt.

Karen was at city hall every week, lobbying for a new stop sign here and a new traffic light there. The town was now littered with them. She went to every PTA meeting and tried to outlaw dodge ball. She was against all competitive sports, dodge ball, soccer, kickball, believing they taught children you win by making someone else lose and that they led to war. If they got rid of competitive sports, there would be world peace.

“What do you want us to do?” Bill had asked her. “Just let the Chinese teach their kids soccer and have them take over the world?”

“When I was a child, I was always picked last,” she said. “I don’t want Johnny to have that experience.”

Bill parked in the driveway and turned off the car. The missing car seat wouldn’t be the only surprise for her. He had picked up something on the way home. He took the brown plastic bag off the passenger seat and walked up to the house.

They had started without him. Johnny was sitting at the wooden table that had plastic-covered safety corners. Hundreds of black and white puzzle pieces covered the table and Johnny was deeply focused on finding the edge pieces.

“It’s a zebra,” he mumbled, not looking up from his task.

Thursday was family game night. In addition to competitive sports, Karen also didn’t like competitive board games, so family game night usually meant putting a puzzle together. There weren’t that many non-competitive board games. Chess was a war game where pawns were routinely sacrificed. Checkers was no good. Monopoly wasn’t much better. Hungry Hungry Hippos taught all the wrong things.

Bill tousled Johnny’s hair and walked into the kitchen where Karen was spreading peanut butter on Ritz crackers. Bill set the bag down on the counter with a thud.

“I’m worried about Johnny,” Karen said.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“What if someone kidnaps him?”

Bill sighed. “I’m just a podiatrist. There’s no ransom money.”

“What if a pedophile takes him?”

“That won’t happen.”

“Why not?”

Bill looked into the living room and saw Johnny sitting there, playing with his toes, staring slack-jawed at the puzzle pieces. A pedophile wouldn’t take Johnny because he just wasn’t that good looking. He was a lumpy bland-looking boy with cheese-colored skin. But he didn’t tell Karen that.

“I thought we could try something a little different tonight,” he said, taking a box out of the bag.

“What’s that?” Karen asked.

“Jenga,” he said.

The picture on the box showed a handsome family pulling blocks from the middle of a rectangular tower.

“That puzzle’s too easy,” Karen said. “Johnny can handle a zebra.”

“It’s not a puzzle,” Bill said. “We take turns pulling out a piece from underneath and put it on the top. Whoever knocks it over first loses.”

“You know how I feel about competitive games,” she said.

“What should we do?” he asked. “Just let the Chinese kids play Chinese checkers and take over the world?”

“You know the Global Positioning System in your car?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

The GPS navigator was a little box that sent a signal to a satellite. The satellite showed the location of the car on a computerized map on the dashboard. It made driving easier and if someone stole the car, the police would be able to locate it, though Bill doubted anyone would want his Chevy.

“They make them really small now,” Karen said. “The size of a raison.”

“So what?”

She squeezed the fleshy part under one of her arms. “The doctor can implant one in Johnny right here.”

“What?”

“It’s an outpatient surgery. It’s only a local anesthetic.”

Bill laughed. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“If anyone takes him, we’ll know where he is.”

“Why does he have to be cut? Can’t you just sew it into his clothes?”

“Oh no. That’s the first thing a kidnapper would tear off him.”

“You’re not putting an implant in our son. It’s the mark of the beast.”

“We don’t believe in that.”

He looked at his wife and wasn’t so sure anymore that he didn’t believe it. Had he married the anti-Christ?

“The problem is the insurance company,” she said. “They said it’s an ‘elective’ surgery and our policy doesn’t cover it.”

“You called the insurance company?”

“I asked Dr. Benson about the procedure.” Dr. Benson was Johnny’s pediatrician. “He said that he isn’t a licensed surgeon so he can’t do the operation himself. I asked him if he could refer us to someone, but he said no.”

“I should hope so.”

Her eyes looked cold as she stared at him. “Why can’t you be more understanding, like Johnny was?”

“You talked to Johnny about it?”

“I told him that he would be hooked up to a satellite, and you know how much he loves space. And I told him that now since I would know where he was, he’d be able to trick or treat, as long as he brought the basket home and let me look through it first. I don’t want him biting into an apple with a razor blade in it. And now we can take a vacation. If he gets lost, we can locate him to within half a meter. We can finally take him to Disney Land.”

“I threw the car seat in the river.”

She screwed shut the lid on the peanut butter.

“Did it float?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It was dark. The people driving by probably thought I was drowning a baby.”

“Try to be pleasant,” she said, took the tray of crackers, and walked to the living room. She sat down next to Johnny, picked up a piece of zebra, and looked for where it went.

Bill left Jenga on the kitchen counter, walked into the living room, and sat down at the table.

“We’re going to Disney Land,” Johnny told him.

“You’re not getting any surgery,” Bill said.

Johnny looked confused.

“But I already did,” he said.

“I tried to tell you,” Karen said.

Bill grabbed Johnny, pulled back the sleeve on his T-shirt, and saw gauze taped underneath his arm.

“What have you done?” Bill screamed.

“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” Karen said.

Bill shook Johnny. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Mom told me not to.”

“You’re insane!” he screamed at his wife.

“Don’t yell. You’ll traumatize him.”

“And unnecessary surgery won’t?”

“I knew you’d react like this. Why do you think I didn’t tell you?”

“Johnny, go get in the car.”

“Don’t overreact,” Karen said.

“I’m calling the police,” Bill said.

“For what? I didn’t break any law,” Karen said.

“I’m pretty sure you did. There’s a law against putting homing devices in people. At least there should be.”

“Okay, maybe I should have consulted you first. I’m sorry. But what’s done is done. At least he’s safe now.”

“Not around you he isn’t. I’m taking him out of here where you can’t hurt him.”

“You can’t escape. Wherever you go, I’ll know where he is. I have him on the GPS.”

Bill marched into the kitchen, took the box of Jenga, and walked back into the living room.
“We’re playing Jenga,” he said, as he tore off the plastic shrink-wrap and opened the box.

“We’re not playing Jenga,” she said.

“Oh yes we are. Johnny, sit back down. We’re gonna play a nice game of Jenga.”

Johnny looked back and forth.

Bill dumped the Jenga blocks onto the table. He started to stack them up into a tower.

Johnny sat down at the table and gazed at the Jenga blocks.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s a puzzle,” Karen said. “Let’s help your father put it together.”

Karen picked up one of the blocks and set it on the other blocks, helping Bill set up the tower.
Johnny looked at the box, at the picture of what the completed puzzle should look like. “That’s a puzzle for babies,” he said.

“They’re like Legos,” Karen said. “We can build anything.”

“No,” Bill said. “They’re not building blocks. It’s a game. We take turns pulling out a block and setting it on the top. Whoever knocks down the tower loses.”

Karen swatted at the half-built tower and sent it crashing to the table and carpet.

“Mom, you lost,” Johnny said.

She turned to Bill, a mad look in her eye.

“You want to play dodge ball?” she said. “We’ll play dodge ball!”

She picked up a Jenga piece and threw it at Bill. He blocked it from hitting his face just in time and it bounced off his forearm.

“Stop that!” he said, backing away from her. “You’re crazy.”

She threw another piece at him that hit him in the shoulder. He picked up a cushion from the couch to use as a shield.

“You want to play competitive?” she said. “We’ll play.”

She ran at him, sticking her head out and chomping her teeth.

“I’m a hungry hungry hippo!” she said and tried to bite him. He smacked her in the face with the pillow and she fell down.

He grabbed Johnny and pulled him out the front door, toward the car.

“I don’t have my shoes,” Johnny said.

“You don’t need them,” Bill said.

“What if I step on glass?”

“Don’t.”

“I need to go to the bathroom first.”

“Can’t you hold it?”

Karen was throwing Jenga pieces at him again.

“I don’t have to go, but mom says I should always try before getting in the car.”

“Not this time.”

They ran to the car and Johnny tried to get in the backseat to his car seat, but it wasn’t there.

“Just get in,” Bill said.

“But what if we crash?”

“I won’t crash.”

“I’ll go through the windshield!”

“No, you won’t!”

Johnny climbed in and Bill slammed the door behind him. Then Bill got in the front seat and
pressed the automatic door lock. Karen slapped her hands against the hood and the windows.
Then she flopped on the ground and bit the front tire. “I’m a hippo!” she cried, and bit it again like she was trying to puncture the tire.

Bill turned the ignition, peeled out of the driveway, and sped away down the street, not stopping at an unnecessary stop sign that Karen had city hall put up.

“That’s kidnapping!” she shouted after them. “Kidnapper!”

Johnny’s hands grasped the seat.

“Did you really kidnap me?” he asked.

“Of course not. I’m your father. I couldn’t kidnap you.”

“So you’re not going to chain me up in a basement and beat me with a hose?”

“Of course not. Where would you get an idea like that?”

“Mom.”