Hi Mom. The Caller ID Says What?

Hi Mom. The Caller ID Says What?(Ric Wooldridge) Hi Mom. The Caller ID Says What?

The drunk man was vomiting in the center of the “tank” again. There was a drain in the center of the floor, but, as far as Tom could see, very little was actually going down. With every heave the drunk would cuss loudly and trail off to a mumble while not making any effort to move out of the mess he was creating. The policemen and women moving back and forth on the other side of the thick observation window paid no attention.

This was Tom Jackson’s first and, if he had anything to say about it, last time in jail. It was 2:20 a.m., and Tom had spent the last five hours getting an intense education as to how much control he really had in his adult life. After all, he didn’t take drugs, smoke cigarettes, or get drunk. Ever. If he had a couple of drinks, he didn’t drive. He was a part time student, taking classes to get his teachers credentials, and had a part time job as a welder, that he really enjoyed. People seemed to like, trust and respect Tom. So at this point of his life his thoughts were, “How did I end up here.”

“Hey TJ! What’s shakin’?” A young man with calf length baggy shorts, a Corona tank top and a sideways ball cap shouted across the street to get Tom’s attention.

Tom was just closing the garage doors after work. He glanced back over his shoulder, smiled and shouted back, “Just closing up and heading home.”

“Man, I need a favor,” Ricky Hernandez said as he bounced to a halt at Tom’s side. “The railing on mom’s porch busted off yesterday. She can’t find anyone to fix it, `cause her disability check doesn’t come in for another two weeks.”

“No trouble, Ricky,” Tom said. “We can fix it right now, no charge. You grab the wire feed and put it in my trunk while I leave a note for Mr. Taylor, telling him that I borrowed it.”

“Oh, Man! Like, dude! I ain’t got time right now, ya know? I gotta catch Skeets uptown. We’re supposed to, like meet this dude up at the park in like ten minutes. Can you cover it, man?”

“Yeah,” Tom sighed. “I got it. But you owe me.”

“You got it, bro! I got your back, man!” Ricky promised as he was already walking away.

When Tom got home an hour and a half later he was pretty tired, but he still had a little studying to do before he went to his classes tomorrow. He had his own apartment across town from his parents. He and his mother kept in close touch, unlike his father who pretty much ignored his existence because of Tom’s apathy toward his parents religion. He hoped dad would get over it, but mom was always mom. She’d be there for him if his last name was changed to “the Kid” for old west criminal activities. The phone rang just as he got out his books.

“Hi Tommy, how was work today?”

“It was ok, mom. Mr. Taylor has been teaching me to weld stainless steel. He knows so many little things it makes the work fun.”

“Bob Taylor’s a good, hard working man,” Tom’s mother said. “I’ve known his family all my life. I’m so happy that he had work for you while you go to school.”

"Well, he certainly keeps me busy. I’m beat, and I still have two chapters to cover before class tomorrow,“ Tom said absently.

“Well I didn’t call earlier because I saw your car over in old town on my way back from the grocery store,“ Said Tom’s mother. “You weren’t over at that Hernandez boy’s place, were you?”

“Actually, mom, I was repairing their porch rail. Ricky’s mom needs it since she got hurt at work and has to use that wheel chair. I did a nice job too. Those things the county provides are junk, and she’s so nice,” Tom said. “But I do visit Ricky once in a while. He’s a good guy. Mrs. Hernandez likes it when I come by. She says that I’m a good influence on Ricky.”

“Tommy, I know you’re a grown man, but you know what the Bible says.”

“Yes, mom.”

“At Proverbs?”

“Yes, mom.”

“It says, ‘He that is walking with wise ones will become wise, be that is having dealings with the stupid ones will fair badly.”

“Yes, mom, I know! But mom, you know I never do anything to get in trouble. Other people do what they do, it has nothing to do with me. I don’t have to do the same as everybody else. Don’t worry mom! I’ll be fine! I love you. Good night.”

Tom thought about that conversation now. That line his mom quoted from the Bible didn’t say “the designated driver for the stupid one will become stupid,” but that’s how he felt. Tom took a deep breath and sighed. Shaking his head he thought over and over, “Don’t worry mom. I’ll be fine.”

The drunk laying at the center of the tank heaved again and a large dark stain of urine appeared at his crotch, almost causing Tom to gag. He hadn’t thought the air could possibly get worse. He was wrong. The admittance officer stuck his head into the tank and wrinkled his nose as he spoke to Tom, “Cells are all full tonight. You get to finish the night here. Lucky you.” The officer closed the door and walked away laughing. He’d seen it before. He doubted that he’d see Tom in here again. He hoped.

This was crazy! Tom hadn’t done anything wrong! Stinking Ricky and Skeets had stashed some pills and a baggie of marijuana with another little bag of power inside of it, inside his car. When he had been rear ended coming out of the parking lot and hit again at the driver side headlight. Tom was not even aware that they’d had it. Of course, they said, “See ya later” and left him alone.

That night seemed to last forever. No matter what, he was going to miss work Monday. His mom and Mr. Taylor were the only people that would miss him. He hadn’t used his one phone call because, frankly, he didn’t know who he should call.

He had money in the bank to cover his bail. He’d be arraigned on Monday and his bail set. But by tomorrow night his mother would be frantic. The last person he wanted to talk to was his mother. She’d be so disappointed, and his father wouldn’t make her feel any better walking around the house chanting, “It was bound to happen,” “I saw it coming,” “That boy never listens to anybody.” What a mess.

“Yeah, mom. Don’t worry, mom. I’ll be fine.”

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

By 10:00 a.m. Tom decided he didn’t have a choice. He’d just have to man up and call his mother, and convince her that he had to deal with this tangled mess himself. Ricky and Skeets obviously were not the friends they claimed. Tom would pay for his own ignorance, while they would pay for their criminal activity. There would be no happy ending. But Tom would have a clean conscience and had learned a very valuable lesson.

“Hi mom.”

“The caller ID said what?”

“Well, I guess that’s why I’m calling you.”

“No, no, I’m alright!”

“No I didn’t get drunk.”

“No I didn’t get in a fight.”

“Mom! Mom! Wait a minute. Let me talk.“

“First: I’m sorry I worried you. Second: I didn’t do anything wrong except not listen to you.”

“Actually mom, I don’t know when that became a law. But I’m obviously in jail because of it. Now, Please listen. Last night Ricky, Skeets and I went out to do some dancing and they had a few drinks. Seeing that I was the only one that was actually finding anyone to dance they decided that it was time for us to move on. We were leaving when we were in a traffic accident.”

“No, mom. Nobody was hurt. And, yes, I had on clean underwear.”

“Mom, listen, please.”

“Ricky and Skeeter had brought drugs with them, that I had no idea they had. When we got in the wreck, they hid the stuff in the back seat of my car and ran away.”

“Mom, everything will be alright. I never even had a drink. I allowed myself to be blood tested for drugs and alcohol. I never knew that Ricky and Skeets had drugs, and I never touched any of it. When they fingerprint the containers my finger prints won’t be there, but Ricky and Skeet’s will be. I think they are in big trouble. I’ll pay my bail tomorrow, and then start paying for being stupid.”

“Oh, and, Mom? Thank you for not giving up on me. You can read the Bible to me any time you want.”