Things Don't Change
Flash Fiction by Daniel Gallik

Image © http://www.123rf.com

“Okay, I get it.”
“What do you get?”
“That you are dying.”
“What?” Big John had a reddened face. He was almost ready for a huge outburst. But he had learned, after much time in jail, to try and get control, even relax, and let all his anger slip out of his mouth instead of his fists and his guns. Yeah, he was more even and calm more often. John was handling this reality from his mother.
“Yes, honey, the doctor is saying you are dying.”
“From what?”
“Fat!”
“Oh, my fucking shit! How does he know that? I’m a big boned guy.”
“He also said heredity is doing it. Your dad died young, and so did his dad and his dad!”
“Hell, males die early anyway. It’s like we’re supposed to.” Sure, Biggie was cussing a little bit. But he was handling this bad news awful well. He was proud of himself. He knew death was coming and he really wasn’t that worried about it. Biggie was only wondering how his mom got the freedom to talk to his doctor without his permission. This bugged him a bit. “Mom, how did you get this information from my doctor?”
“Well,…well, well, I just asked him. I am worried about my only son.”
“And he told you?”
“I prodded him a bit.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, I told him I would talk to his wife about this little bit of gossip I got about him off my girl friend.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that. I am telling you the truth. I always have.”
“Wow, the papers definitely have a big story here. I think I’ll make some money out of this. Yeah, I will call the Plain Dealer and see if they want to deal for this block buster!”
“You will not make money by beating up on your mother and a doctor in the papers! Do you hear me? If you open your mouth I have stuff on you I will tell them. We Cleveland women know how to handle tough matters.”
“What!?”
“There is all kinds of nasty stuff I could tell them about you. I have bailed you out of jail so many times. And then, there is that killer chick you ‘rubbed shoulders’ with that was fifteen years younger than you.”
“Aw mom! You always win these arguments.”
“That’s right. That’s because I am the TRUTH!”
Mrs. Lawer turned her back on her “Biggie” boy and walked off in a bit of a huff. She was extremely proud of herself. She knew how to handle her child. And she knew how to handle death.

©Daniel Gallik

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