The black armored knight springs up on one foot, leaves the ground, whirls and comes down in one movement with his arm extending toward the tv tube, straight ahead in Tim's direction, a woman taking Tim's place in the aim, falling backward into a dark corner. Someone from the other side, the queen, yells watch out and the black armored knight whirls and shoots blind, laser light hits the enemy right square in the chest, and there's more enemy coming from behind, the queen looks sick . . . . . . . . blue fluid matter moves in front of the tube, the black armored knight spins to look at the giant mannequin leg coming from Mommy's dress crashing into the cavern they're fighting in. Clack, the light behind the blue dress goes dark, the knight's face fades toward the center of the tube, the legs come closer, hands scooping him up by the underarms, blue dress, yellow shirt, Mommy's dull red lips smooching themselves up against his eyebrows. "How about putting some cereal in the little timmy tummy, hokay?" Mommy rubs her hand around his stomach. "Gotta go to day school soon, you know." He looks into Mommy's big brown eyes, so close he can see himself in the blacks. She sets him down on his feet, holds out her hand with her body pointed to the stairs up to the kitchen. He takes the warm flesh in his hand, skips along to keep up with her stride, hopping up one step at a time. In the kitchen he sits on the phonebook chair, Mommy puts a bowl in front of him, a spoon next to that and pours cereal in the bowl. "Want some sugar on your corn flakes?" He nods. She spoons some sugar on the top and pours the milk on. "Go ahead and eat. I gotta get ready for work." He is alone in the kitchen, the sound of corn flakes quickly soaking up milk mingling with the soft sounds of Mommy's rustling between the bathroom and her bedroom. The medicine cabinet mirror sliding in its track, the bang of it hitting the other side. Water running. The cereal slowing to a sound like dish water suds while the sun streams in the window. He can't believe Mommy left him here for the whole day. Why are these kids pushing and poking him? Why are they shouting everything, can't they talk normal? The teacher has to shout over them so she can't talk normal either, which is only making it worse. Maybe they don't like being here. Maybe the teacher doesn't like being here either. If these kids don't stop poking him, he's going to scream. The air is getting choking in the small room, chalk

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