Glory was putting that gooey stuff on his hair again. Matthew hated it. It made his scalp feel burned and some of it almost got in his eye. Glory rubbed hard to catch it, but the washcloth went in his eye and it hurt. But he knew that if he said he didn’t want her to put the stuff in his hair, she would only say, “I’m sorry, Matty. I don’t want to do it, but I have to.”
Today he didn’t say one single word. He knew Glory was really mad at him. This morning, when the doorbell rang, he had run into the closet and closed the door. He didn’t mind this closet at all because it was bigger than some of the other ones, and it had a light big enough that he could see everything. But then he remembered he had left his favorite truck in the hall. It was his favorite because it was bright red and had three speeds, so when he played with it in the hall he could make it go very fast or really slow.
He had opened the closet door and ran to get it. Just then, he saw that Glory was closing the door and saying good-bye to some lady. After Glory locked the door she turned around and saw him. She looked so mad he was scared that she would hit him. “Next time I’ll stick you in the closet and never let you out,” she had said in a mean, low voice. He’d been so scared that he ran back into the closet and started to cry so hard that he couldn’t get his breath.
Even after a while, when Glory said it was all right to come out, that it wasn’t really his fault, that he was just a little kid, and that she was sorry she had yelled at him, he still couldn’t stop crying. He was saying, “Mommy, Mommy,” over and over, and he wanted to stop but he couldn’t.
Then, later, when he was watching one of his DVDs, he heard Glory talking to someone. He tiptoed to the door of his room, opened it, and listened. Glory was on the phone. He couldn’t hear what she was saying but her voice sounded really mad. Then he heard her shout, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” and he could tell she was really scared.
Now he sat with the towel around his shoulders and the stuff dripping on his forehead and waited until Glory told him to get over to the sink, that it was time to rinse out his hair.
Finally she said, “Okay, I guess you’re about ready.” When he leaned over the sink, she said, “It’s really too bad. If you ever get the chance, you’ll be a cute redhead.”