Memories of a Tuesday Afternoon

Jimmy got a whipping today at school,
Mary announced at the table
with delight.
Mama sat down heavily in her chair
and frowned at Jimmy,
who was glaring at Mary over his plate.

Father poured himself a glass of iced tea
and told us a joke he'd heard
at work.
Mama smiled faintly at him,
wiping the baby's mouth with one hand,
passing the corn with the other.
What happened to your arm, Mama?
Oh, I burned myself on the iron.
Without expression, she held up her arm
to show us the long red mark near
her wrist and, in the same movement,
reached for a napkin to wipe up the tea
Mary spilled.
She tossed the napkin in the sink
and said, Mrs. Pacheco came over
this afternoon,
her son's been listed as Missing-In-Action.

Pass the salt, Father smiled at Adam,
who grinned back at him
through a dirt mask.
Mama glanced around the crowded table
and sighed.
Where's Tommy?
Lord, that child's never home anymore!
She scooted her chair back
and reached down to pick up the spoon
the baby dropped on the floor.
Mama,
Tommy went to tell his girl
he was drafted today.

When's the last time you made meatloaf,
Father asked, picking up his fork,
and the baby cried,
the dog barked,
and Mama got up and went outside.