The Middle Name Child

The Child hid under the kitchen table. He had stolen a notepad from his father’s desk and a pen, too. The Child was determined to come up with names better than "James". He hated James. So he wrote down his ideas, later planning on narrowing down the list and eventually presenting them to Mom and Dad. The Child put the edge of the pen in his mouth, not because he subconsciously wanted to, but rather because he had seen people on TV do that when thinking—and the Child was trying to think really hard.

Tommy was a good name. It sounded fun. It sounded like a leader. But he didn’t like a boy named Thomas. Maybe Portland. The Child had a cousin in Portland and she was his favorite cousin. She would help him steal cookies. But then again, Portland sounded funny. It sounded like the name of a fat kid and the Child didn’t want to be a fat kid. The Child’s favorite color was Green. Maybe his name could be Green. He could even then have the nickname Mean Green. He still wouldn’t be a bully, but he would probably be stronger. Other names? Jojo. Or A.J.? A.J. sounded cool. But doesn’t A.J. have to stand for something? Maybe. It really didn’t matter. As long as he could change “James,” the Child would have any name. Maybe even a girl’s name. But he needed a name fast.

“Kyle James Nolan! What did you do to your closet?!”

Too late. The Child’s mother had found his mud collection and used his middle name. The Child was convinced his parents only gave him a middle name so that he’d know when he was really in trouble—which seemed to be a lot lately. No doubt about it; for the sake of his playtime future, the Child would have to change his middle name.