Whether it was the large window curtains, the bed linen, the carpet, the satin and polyester loincloths that adorned these ghostly pieces of furniture, or even something as ridiculous as a simple souvenir box (which, by the way, I had never kept anything in, even though it had cost me a small fortune); absolutely everything that was visible to me, and that would have been worth at least a twelve-generation salary to a random office worker, I threw without mercy into the bonfire I had built in the backyard. As for the furniture, including my bed, which was our bed until September 13 of last year, I sold them all. I could have done a lot worse, such as having it dismantled by a furniture maker and using the wood for charcoal, or having my coffin made since I might be next on the list (after all, I refuse to believe in the accident theory), or just burning it too, but they are better sold; at least one amateur jewelry lover in Windrop will be happy to get them, it's not always that one can afford furniture bought for millions at ridiculous prices.
There I was, crouched in the middle of the nothingness of my room, a cleaning bucket staring lazily at me, gloved hands with a brush and a mop... I crouched down and scrubbed the tiles, perhaps for the thousandth time since this morning. I was looking for traces of semen Anthony and I had spilled during our coitus, that had soiled my hospice; it was as if scrubbing the floor would erase my betrayal, my sin, his scent, my moans, the image of his penis inside me, my back arched against his torso, the torso of a 19-year-old... As if I were asking Ryan's memory for forgiveness, every time the viscous liquid of bleach scented the floor. I did it in front of the mirror, empty eyes filled with tear pockets, the same mirror that had sworn to guard my sin of last night like tombs guard the dead.
I hadn't closed my eyes all night, well, I pretended to be asleep just to stalk whenever Anthony would actually leave as I had commanded. Strangely enough, my alarm didn't even go off and it has been as such for a while now. The worst thing is that I feel less guilty for having fucked a teenager... than for having done the same thing with another man, when Ryan was alive, but I can't remember who... I feel it in my flesh, I've already given my body over to the debauchery of adultery... But I can't remember anything. Maybe it's my mind playing tricks on me, maybe it's that damned hallucination of Ryan haunting me.
I have a nasty acid reflux. I feel like throwing up. And that's how I've spent my morning: throwing up. I feel like my body is punishing me for corrupting my mourning... I'm bent over the toilet, supported in my daze by the seat, seeing him begging me to stop, to come back to my senses... I think back to Vic, to the times we'd all go on picnics as a family, or to amusement parks, or on our trip to Greece that I'd paid for, and we'd all ended up practically bedridden with a random allergy from a spoiled shrimp. I think back to him, Anthony, to how he made me quiver under his caresses, how he made me feel alive, how he made me rise in ecstasy and I feel my guts open and reject the little food I've ingested since yesterday. I curl up against the hard, icy wall of the bathroom and vomit and vomit and... I cry.
***
The furrows of the mansion were empty, haunted by spirited shouts and soccer games that were no more. At this time on a Saturday, Vic would normally be playing with his toy soldiers or inviting his best friend Liam over, with whom they'd probably be scattering all the kitchen ingredients all over the floor from playing indoor ball or some other nonsense they love to do... But I'd sent him and his sister to his uncle's... I didn't want them to witness my deceit... In fact, how was I going to explain to Vic, oh since your father died, I haven't had sex and so I had to fuck? How was I going to explain to him that I was replacing his father with a stranger... I can't create any more confusion for my son, when he's already entertaining the absurd idea that I want to sell him to an orphanage to get rid of him. At the same time, it's not like I'd planned beforehand to bring a man home tonight, it was just, let’s say, a bad dare gone wrong....
"The turtle finally wakes up..."
I was looking for some lemon juice in the fridge to help with the nausea, it should be somewhere, damn it... when I jumped at the sound of the more than familiar and very sharp voice that popped up in this jocund room.
"MOON?! But- what are you doing here? You're not--"
"What? You mean I'm supposed to be at Dereck’s? Well, why? Why be there when you... Of all the men I've seen strutting around here, he was by far the best looking, you know... Hum hum"
"Moon, please, I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm today, please"
"Oh, by the way, he left his number, besides being handsome, he's very... respectful... You've finally hit the jackpot. One thing I'll always envy you for, you really know how to pick 'em."
She's seen him, she's seen him, FOR GOD’S SAKE... What should I do?
She slips me a shred white paper where a scribbled address is inlaid, across the coffee table, a lemon juice in hand, a sly smile. OH THAT BITCH!... wait, no no no, I'm not supposed to think that… not about my daughter, what an idiot I am! I could read in her eyes this very disdain I couldn't understand. I didn't kill her father though, so why in all this shit is she directing her anger at me? And what other man is she talking about, my God, she wears me out, she wears me out.
“You know, I'm happy for you...”
“Moon-”
"No_ she places her hand against her chest as if to showempathy_ seriously, I am for you, I really am. I mean, Mason Treize, you can be whoever you want to be now, freely... The pest that you are, the lying, manipulative monster, yes, you can be... Because there's no more marriage, no more pretending, no more Ryan, right?"
At this point absolutely nothing logical could come out of my mouth, I was confused, what had I done wrong to this little girl to make her hate me so much...
"But tell me, there's one thing I still don't understand, since my father is dead... You don't need me anymore, nor Vic, whom you claim to love more than anyone in the world, and the poor kid unfortunately believes you because he has no other family... Tell me, when are you going to get rid of us? Or... do you need us for one of your plans? What, you want more money? You're already a billionaire.... Or NOOO.... You want Windrop's sympathy? Oh, the poor man, raising two children after his husband died. That headline can sell When should I prepare for the press interviews? You're an amazing manipulator, Mason Treize... And to think you managed to stuff my father with your witchcraft."
"Moon, please, if you have nothing good to say to me this morning..."
I was about to walk through the door anyway, why waste my time being slandered by a teenager I've offered a whole life to?
"Wait...w-well... I just need you to sign something for me, please."
A minute ago, she was about to behead me and now she has changed her tone, just like that… I should steer her toward an acting career, I will talk to her psychiatrist about it.
"What is it?..."
"What do you want this to_ I raise an eyebrow to warn her that she's in no position to patronize me_ it's just a document for school."
“And… why are you giving it to me?”
“They need a parental consent...”
“Oh... Because now you recognize me as your parent? (I’m about to chuckle bitterly but refrain it so quickly not to ruin my momentum) You called me a manipulative monster, what... not even thirty seconds ago... guess I'm actually that important after all...”
“So what? You want me to go dig my father out of his grave so he can come and sign these?”
“You will never-... Fhum... Okay... You can give it to me, I'll read it and give it back to you later”.
"NO, NO... you don’t get it, do you? I need it NOW!"
"... Okay, but yeah I don’t get it… why the rush? I'm not going to put my signature on something I don't know anything about?"
"You feel powerful, don't you? You've won everything? You killed my father and now you can do whatever you want to us."
" Powerful? How do you even come up with those? Wh-what are you talking about? I didn't kill-... Moon, what are you talking about? I-"
"NO NO, that's right! Since when do you care about a school document? Since when do you care what class I'm in? What training I'm doing? Hell, you couldn't even be present at a fucking recital of the son you claim to love so much... You don't even know what grade he's in... You don't know anything about us, you're not Ryan, you're not my FATHER! Or oh, do you think you are our mother since that precious boy of yours calls you Muddy? Flash news, you are not a woman! You can’t EVER have kids! You don't even know that I'm taking a new art class.... You don't know that Vic signed up for swimming. You don't know that he doesn't talk to Liam anymore because you don't care about us. You think if I had a choice, I would have given you that document? TO YOU? I would have sent it directly to my REAL father or my MOM... Or do you want me to get out of your house and go live with her? Oh, that would make you happy-"
I frenetically took the document from her hands so much so that I almost ripped it into pieces; and signed it. I dejectedly threw the pen she handed me across the table and left the kitchen room. She was right. I'd never been and would never be the parent they deserve. I retreated to my room and continued to throw up.
ns 18.68.41.148da2
