Lazy
Howard…
Howard was lazy. Not just your typical lethargic kid. True
laziness. Languid, indolent and completely slothful. This might sound normal
for a fifteen year old, the problem was that Howard was not yet fifteen. He had
not even hit puberty. Howard was only eleven.
He had not always been lazy. Howard had spent his formative
years in a constant state of restlessness. There was a time when he might have
even been described as a once a lithe, young whippersnapper. However, out of
the blue at the age of eight, Howard decided that being physically active was
useless.
Nobody was really sure why Howard had come to this decision.
His father, who was the worrier of the family, was starting to fret. One
morning as Jude and Judy O’Riley were driving in their black mini minor - the
apple of Judy’s eye - to their small village shop where they sold an array of
performance enhancing protein powders, Jude turned to Judy as they rounded the
corner into Penny Drive.
“What are we going to do about Howard?”
“What do you mean?”
Jude, who loved his wife, could only put up with her
indifference for so long. Last year on a family holiday to Kingsford Beach,
where incidentally Howard stayed inside lying on his bed for the full
fortnight, Jude had brought up the subject with his wife only to be ignored and
fobbed off like it was nothing.
“Howard, your son, he has no buzz, no get up and go. What
are we going to do about it? It’s all very well for him to sit upstairs in his room all day
playing video games, but he isn’t even doing that!”
“He’s just going through a phase, Jude.”
“Yes, and how long are we supposed to put up with this
‘phase’”, he even used his index fingers and wiggled them next to his large
ears, “before we admit that our son has a real problem?”
“Oh love, take it easy, it’s not like he’s hurting anyone”.
“If you don’t count himself or his parents as ‘anyone’”, he
wiggled his fingers again.
Jude sat back in his black, vinyl seat and sighed. He could
see the racing stripe between his legs. He wished that he was more
self-assured. Everyone who knew the O’Rileys, knew that Judy wore the pants in
the relationship. For thirteen years and eleven months, Jude had taken a back
seat in their marriage. He did not make any of the decisions, he could not even
decide which kind of peanut butter to buy at the local IGA. Smooth was easier
to spread but he liked the way the crunchy bits stuck in his teeth.
But Jude had come to a decision; one of only a few in his whole
life. He had decided that he was not going to sit back idly while his only son
melted into inactivity. Sitting on his three-legged stool the night before in
his ‘workshop’- Judy called it that because ‘shed’ sounded common- Jude had
come up with a plan and with or without Judy’s help, he would see his plan through
to fruition. Though he had hoped that Judy would come around quickly on their
drive to work the following day, he was prepared for her infamous indifference
again. It was just like that time Judy had forgotten to pick up his mother for
their weekly Sunday roast; she had not understood that Jude would hear about it
forever from his mother who had from that moment on, felt neglected.
For the rest of the day, Jude potted about his shop,
stocktaking and serving beefcake customers who probably should have spent less
time in the gym and more time learning a foreign language. Jude had decided
long ago to forgive these men for their shortcomings and serve them the protein
powder they desired. He was happy with his plan, he had never had one before and
he kept it locked away in the recesses of his brain usually reserved for
football scores and supermodels.
For the next week Jude went about life as if it were normal.
Judy continued on in apathetic oblivion, preferring to watch Twilight movies than pay attention to
her son. And Howard, dear Howard remained in his bedroom, only leaving to
attend school and shower once a day. On the surface things continued at a
regular, non-invasive pace but like a duck paddling incessantly under the
water, the wheels were turning in Jude’s brain. To the naked eye things were
normal but to any observant viewer there was a slight change in routine for
Jude, Judy and Howard O’Riley.
Every morning Jude would leave a cup of tea on the landing
outside of Howard’s bedroom for his son. He had become accustomed to sweetening
the tea with three teaspoons of sugar. It was the only way that Howard would be
sure to down the whole lot. But these days the cup of tea contained not only
one Twining’s Earl Grey tea bag, one cup of water and three teaspoons of raw
sugar. For the last few weeks, Jude had started to add something else. An ingredient
so special, so ground breaking that Jude wasn’t even sure it would be legal.
Jude had concocted a stimulant so strong that not even he could bring himself
to ingest it. One part protein powder, one part caffeine and three parts iron
supplement, PPCI2 as he had called it had the potential to give three grown men
a good kick up the backside. Jude was convinced that he had come up with a fool
proof plan, a plan that was sure to get Howard up and about and enthused about
life.
The same process continued for another three weeks. By week
four of the plan, Jude was starting to get worried. Howard was displaying no
noticeable difference in behaviour. He remained in his room and the curtains
drawn. No music, no computer, no television, in fact no form of technology that
might stimulate his soggy brain.
It was a Thursday morning when everything changed. Jude and
Judy were sitting at the flowered table cloth in their breakfast nook that Judy
had chosen from the catalogue when they had been building their new terracotta
coloured brick veneer home three years ago. The breakfast nook had been Judy’s
choice over the bay windows with double glazing that Jude had wanted but had not
had enough guts to ask for. There was a shuffling noise. Jude’s spooned-fingers
paused halfway to his mouth while Judy kept eating her strawberry jammed toast
oblivious to the noise.
Jude could barely contain his excitement as he saw his son
bleary eyed son slouching down the stairs. He turned to look at his wife. She
continued to sip her cup of tea and read the paper as if nothing had changed.
“Dad, what’s for breakfast?” Howard mumbled.
Jude smiled and offered his son a cup of tea. As he added
the three sugars, he considered the PPCI2. Should he continue to add the
supplement every morning? After all, it had only been a few weeks, what might
happen to Howard’s behaviour if he continued the treatment. Jude let his mind
wander as he spooned the powder into his son’s teacup.
That night he dreamed of grandeur and success.
