Up on the Roof

I wrote this decades ago - an editor at a science fiction magazine complimented me on it, but didn't buy it because it's an old idea. Understood. But see how you like it - GM.

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My name is Michael, and I’m eight years old. I live in a house with my Mommy and a big fat kitty named Wrinkles. He’s afraid of sirens, but I’m not. When one goes off he crawls under the couch and shivers. We go up to the roof. There are chairs up there, and a mat that says Welcome, and a bottle that Mommy says has shampane in it, but it’s spelled champagne.

Mommy says she’ll know when to drink the champagne. She’s waiting for the BIG DAY. She says that, ‘the big day,’ and then she says ‘with capital letters,’ so I wrote it down that way. 

But that stuff is all up on the roof. Janey at school said that on Independence Day there are always big bangs and fireworks and pretty lights in the sky, so I think when that day comes, Mommy will drink the champagne. Oh, I was saying what else is on the roof. There are blankets and clear plastic umbrellas because sometimes we go up when it’s cold or raining. There’s no railing so she’s careful that we don’t slip off. I almost did once and scraped myself up, but Mommy caught me just in time. Now she warns me every time to crouch low to move around, but when we get to the chairs, she sighs and spreads her arms out wide, and says “come, come, come,” with her eyes closed. I asked her what was coming, and she said it was a surprise. She thinks I don’t know about Independence Day. 

Mommy likes going up to the roof. She smiles and seems real happy when she’s up there. Sometimes she talks to me like I’m almost a grownup. Not other times. She’s a real grouch when she watches the news, and she spanked me when I said I wanted a model rocket launcher for Christmas, but she said she was sorry for spanking me later. I didn’t get the rocket launcher. She got me a book instead. The words are too big for me to read, so I’m saving it for when I’m older.

We have drill at school. Mommy shakes her head and says “Fools!” when I tell her about it, so I stopped. Drill is fun. The bell rings and we run as fast as we can to the basement, no fair tripping anybody, and sit in our chairs under our names. The first one down and sitting still is the winner, and gets a prize. I have three candy bars and a pencil so far.

Well anyway, about the roof. A couple weeks ago, we were watching the news. People were throwing rocks. The police were hitting them with clubs, but the rioters had hand bombs, too and it looked like they were winning. Mommy wasn’t a grouch for once. She was almost smiling and quiet, and sort of lighted. I read that in a book when a person is happy, you say their face lighted up. Well, hers did that so I wrote it, and she called me and hugged me. There were tears on her face, though, so I don’t know if she was really happy or not.

Then there was a siren, a real loud one. I didn’t want to go up on the roof because it was so loud and it was raining, too, but she said I had to. I thought it must be Independence Day, so there would be fireworks, and then I didn’t mind.

I just sat in my chair up there and watched. She seemed really excited, and she popped the cork off the champagne, so I knew this must be the BIG DAY. I asked if I could go down and Wrinkles to come to the party, too, but she said he could take care of himself. And then she laughed, real screechy, sort of, but pretty soon she was crying, like she did when Daddy went away, and I felt real funny inside, like I was going to be sick. 

Pretty soon she saw that I was afraid, and she hugged me and gave me a glass to try the champagne. It was awful, even though it looked like soda pop. I drank it, though, because Mommy seemed to like it and I didn’t want her to cry again. 

It was getting dark, and cold with the rain and all, and windy, so I wrapped a blanket around me to get warm. I was getting sleepy, too, so I was real surprised when a bright light lit up everything. It hurt my eyes. I thought it must be the fireworks, and Mommy did, too, because she grabbed me real hard and screamed “we’re coming, we’re coming!” but then another voice yelled, “lady, what the hell do you think you’re doing up there? Don’t you know there’s a riot warning out?”

A policeman came up our ladder and he was real angry with Mommy. She just stared at him. She must have been as disappointed as I was, because the lights came from the police car, not from the sky like we thought. 

He had his teeth gritted and he said, real quietly and slow, “Lady, you and the kid come with us.” He looked around at the sky before he got in the car and drove us away.

So we went with him. I stayed with the policeman’s family for five days and then I went home. They were real nice and there were two kids to play with. The policeman was Mr. Corning and he said my Daddy was in heaven with God. I don’t know anything about a heaven or where it is, but I think Mommy said that to me once a long time ago. It sounds familiar. I think it means he’s dead.

Anyway, I stayed with the policeman. He seemed sorry to see me go. I heard him tell someone on the phone that he didn’t mind having me and couldn’t I stay longer, but it was hard being so polite all of the time like Mommy taught me, and Mrs. Corning’s spaghetti wasn’t as good as at home. Mommy cried when I came home. So did I, a little. Then she talked to me about something, like a grownup, and I’ve been thinking it over a long while, so I wrote down the facts, like on an old TV show, so I won’t forget anything. 

She said the siren warned us about the rioting and that’s why we had drill at school. The rioters were destroying our town and our lives and it wasn’t worth it to get away from them. Everything was going to be bad and it was better to die and then we could see Daddy again. She said I mustn’t tell anyone at school about the roof, because there was going to be one more time we would go up there. She said the police would put her in jail and leave me in an orphanage if they ever found out. She had to act real stupid to get me back this time. I think she was ashamed to act stupid. She told the police that she wanted to watch them beat those bad guys up. So they thought she was just dumb and they gave her a lecture and let her go, and sent me home later after they signed some papers.

I’m real worried now. I know Mommy isn’t dumb, but I’m scared that she’s crazy. I don’t tell anyone at school, because I saw on the news how they lock up crazy people, but I wish I knew what to do about Mommy. I don’t think I want to see Daddy again just yet, and I feel sick just thinking about it.