Woodpecker

“Pass me ketchup, Tony.”

“Mom!”

“What?”

“I’m Tommy!”

“Yes, I know.”

“You just called me Tony. Again. I’m Tommy. Why do you always call me Tony?”

“Look, I just confused. It’s been a long day, I’m tired. I’m sor—”

“Hey, just relax and eat, okay?” said Tony.

“No!” said Tommy. “Mom, I’m your son. Not him. I am your son. Tony is nobody. Nobody.”

“Hey, Tony is my husband, he’s family,” said Tommy’s sister.

“He’s a jerk,” Tommy said.

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

“Hey, hey!” Tommy said.” What are you, Spice Girls?”

“Hey!”

“He—” began Tommy’s sister. “What’s wrong with you?”

“My shoulder hurts, is what’s wrong with me!” Tommy said. “My both shoulders hurt! Your Tony punches me in my shoulders every day. He’s not my father or brother or whatsoever?”

“You’ll thank me in the future,” said Tony.

“I’ll kill you in the future. I’m gonna become rich and influential and I’ll pay people for killing you!”

“Hey!”

“Oh, God, why me?” said Tommy’s mother. “What have I done?”

“Mom, I love you,” said Tommy.

“You love nobody,” said Tommy’s sister. “You’re sick, rotten. You only pity yourself. You know, your friends are right calling you woodpecker. You are a woodpecker. You only make noise.”

In a couple of years, Tommy left. He never came back to home. He had no home because home is where people call you the name they gave you when you were born. Tommy neither had a name or a home. Sometimes he called his mother via Skype.

“How’s everything, mom?”

“Alright,” said Tommy’s mom. “I’m alright. If only wouldn’t be worse. Give a call to your sister. She’s your sister, after all. Your nephew is three years old now. So cute. Like you were. Yesterday Tommy first time played soccer.”

“Mom, I am Tommy.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, it’s been a long, I’m so tired.”