The Discussion

At seven o'clock in the night, the Morrisons returned home with many purchases. Mrs. Morrison immediately went to the kitchen to prepare dinner and Helen went to her room with the new toy she bought.

But Tom's attention was on someone else. Only he could give the permission to go to the circus. Mr. Morrison unaware of the story, turned on the TV and started watching. 

It certainly wasn't the right time to talk because Uncle Jeffrey looked nervous. He probably discussed the high prices with the sellers again. When Tom saw his angriness decided not to say anything for Mr. Morrison to calm down a bit. 

The boy decided to bring up the topic of the circus before dinner.

The seconds flew by and the ticking sound of the clock hurt Tom's ears like the sound of the successive horns of cars stuck in traffic.

Maybe it happened to you that when you were afraid of something, that thing happened to you faster, like a tough school exam or an important conversation.

For Tom, the conversation with his uncle came faster than a blink. 

stressfully and slowly, he brought himself to the sofa and sat next to his uncle.

Mr. Morrison was reading the newspapers for the umpteenth time. How he hadn't gotten tired of reading the newspaper after all these years was one of the unsolved problems in the Morrison's house.

Tom cleared his throat to let him know that he wanted to say something. 

"What's wrong Tom?" said he softly without looking at Tom's sweaty face.

Tom swallowed and took a deep breath:

"Well…actually…I needed your pen today, so…"

"It's ok. You don't need my allowance for a pen,"

Mr. Morrison interrupted Tom. There are two cases here. One, he knew what Tom was going to say. And two, unbeknownst to him, he wanted to let Tom know that household items are for everyone and there is no need for permission to take them.

"No actually…actually when I came to pick up the pen, I saw something…in the newspaper…about The Juggler," stammered Tom.

Mr. Morrison said nothing, just found out about it. Without speaking or moving, he was looking at the newspaper. Tom continued regardless of his behavior:

"He has come to London and has a show tonight. I wanted to go and see his show if you allow me. It's only for one night,"

He closed the newspaper and took off his glasses, then looked into Tom's black eyes:

"You can't go tonight, you promised. Remember?!"

"Yes I do," answered Tom quickly.

"But… if I don't go tonight, it's not known when he will return to London. Please…allow me to go,"

Mr. Morrison stood firm on his word:

"You can't go. When you make a promise, you must keep it,"

Tom Martin began to insist and beg. He tried to convince Mr. Morrison with every trick he knew, and when saw that it was not working, he was getting angry little by little. The Morrisons always tried to make Tom control his anger, but most of the time they failed. Even Tom himself didn't know why he could not control his rage. 

In this conversation, he lost his control again but still begged him to allow him to go. 

Mr. Morrison's answer was a firm "NO" as before. Tom insisted again, more nervous this time:

"Allow me, then add two months to my punishment,"

"I said No,"

"But…"

"Can't you hear me?!"

"YOU'RE NOT EVEN MY FATHER!!" stood up Tom in anger.

Tom's last sentence was loud and with great violence. As mentioned, why he couldn't keep calm was one of the mysteries of his life that no one but Mr. and Mrs. Morrison knew the answer to it. 

They also never gave a convincing answer to him and only said that you should control yourself.

At this moment, the sound of something breaking was heard from the kitchen. 

Mr. Morrison was upset by Tom's words, but as usual, he didn't show it and to end this discussion he turned to his wife:

"What was that?!"

"Nothing. A glass fell down from Helen's hand,"

"I even didn't touch that glass, I just passed by it. It fell by itself," said Helen.

After hearing this, Mr. Morrison rushed to the kitchen. Mrs. Morrison gave Helen the books on the table and told her to take them upstairs and put them with the rest of the books.

And Tom was sad, sitting on the sofa with his back to them, and had no idea how big this little incident was. 

The wife asked his man when he reached the kitchen:

"Was it him?!"

"Yes. But I think he didn't notice,"

"We should do something! We could hardly fix the case of his teacher's car glass breaking. Maybe you should allow him,"

"This isn't right. He has to learn to control his rage. Otherwise, bad things will happen,

"What should we do?!" said Mrs. Morrison.

"Nothing yet. Just act normal and tell him to come for dinner,"

Helen put her books in her room and came back.

"Tom, sweety, the dinner is ready." said Mrs. Morrison kindly, "I have made your favorite food."

In front of this warmth and intimacy, she only heard one cold and emotionless answer:" Not hungry,"