A Family Affair
I stepped into the room which was humid from evaporating tears. "What's the matter?' I inquired. 'Nothing!" she said with swollen eyes. I said OK and vacated her space. In the neighboring room I consulted my father on the issue.
"Dad, what's with Ma?"
"Nothing!" he curtly replied between his fingers as his head was in his hand and his elbows braced not so surely on his knees with his toupee on a slight angle.
"Come on Dad you can tell me." I pursued the issue further. He stood up and obviously feeling nauseous sat down again and said "Gem'me some vodka." I poured a glass and brought him the glass and the bottle. (He looked like he wanted more than a glass.) I showed him the two and he grabbed the bottle. Pointing at the glass he said 'And that's all you gonna git, hear?" I shrugged and said "Sure Pop, no problem." I could sense that there was unrest in my household so I pressed the issue further.
"Did you lose your job Dad?"
"Nope"
"Good" I thought for a moment, "is the car alright, you didn't smash it up did ya?"
"Nope."
"Is Denise OK?"
"Yup."
"That's not the problem, is it?"
"Nope."
"Then what the hell is wrong with you two?" The room fell silent except for mother who wailed loudly. Dad took a nice long drink of the potent distilled spirits.
"Were you fighting again?"
"Nope."
Mother still wailed.
"Did someone die?"
"Nope."
"Come on Dad tell me, going on like this can't keep the reader interested too much longer."
"Okay, okay I'll tell ya" he said with a nice juicy spray of intoxicated saliva. "Yer ma went to see her new doctor. He prescribed some depressants to kinda keep her hyperactivity down. They're really potent stuff. She took two. She's been wailing ever since."
"Gosh Dad, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was that serious. I thought this was over something stupid. Like Mom finding out about the affairs you're having!" The room fell silent. I was trying to talk over mother's wailing so much that I didn't hear her stop. Needless to say Mother heard the news. Dad's face wrinkled up like a prune. Veins bulged in his temples. I had a hot flash that I thought would never go away. Every hair on my entire body stood on end. I broke out in a cold sweat that froze before running down my face. All in a fraction of a second. Red blotches covered my father's face. Small details were never so noticeable except in a moment of crisis.
"Dad, did you notice we have a nineteenth century clock in a room of 17th century decor?" Oblivious to my statement he cracked a vodka bottle on my already esthetically handicapped face. What a rush. I fell to my knees and bled unashamed. Although it ruined the carpet. Mother entered the room sedately and said "I knew about your affairs a long time ago, George." Then she sat down and started laughing hysterically . "What's so funny?" father asked self-consciously. "You don't know about my affairs," she managed while laughing "and besides your son is right, the clock doesn't go with the decor." Father threw the clock at her. Disgusted at everything he left the room where we lay mortally wounded. "Well Ma it's not glorious but it's good-bye."
"Yes, I guess it is."
"Ma?"
"Yes, son?"
"Dad's a bastard."
"Don't talk about your father that way."
"I'm sorry Mom."
"That's alright."
Slowly all the life in our blood was outside us. Which left no blood within us, thus our life is in the carpet and our bodies are dead. That's sick. Ew yuck!
