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(Meryl & Peter)
I look at the snow falling through the window, the snowflakes swaying from side to side, like wind, like little cotton candy swaddles, spinning in the air, light and soft, before falling to the slippery ground and I’m distracted by this beautiful spectacle of nature, perfect in this ludic period of Christmas celebrations. We, the Chapman, have lived in New Jersey forever, married here, raised our son, and it was here that my Usher was twice elected Governor of the State.
From where I am sitting, stretching my neck, I can see the huge pines filled with lights of the Sarandon, our neighbors for more than twenty years, and without any struggle, a silly smile appears on my face while I contemplate the snowman at my front door, made by our neighborhood children, which quickly reminds me of my Peter, I have never seen a child who loved Christmas as much as my son did.
It's funny that I remember him like a kid, since he'd left his pants on for so long, becoming a handsome boy at twenty-eight.
When Peter was a little boy, he used to join his friends and spread snowmen all over the street, he loved peeling the apples for the pie of Christmas dinner, and he always helped me to decorate the Christmas tree. When Christmas came, he was always the first in our house to be involved in everything, the most excited, the last to sleep, a party-lover, that's what he is.
Anxious as he was, a few days before the special night, he already put his slip on the window to receive his present, and on Christmas Eve, he always fell asleep on the living room mat, expecting to surprise the poor Santa when he went down the chimney.
Life is a surprise, I could never imagine that the shy boy, who hid himself from everything and everyonebehind my legs, would become a dedicated and courageous doctor, so worried with humanitarian causes, travelling around the world to save the lives of those who need it most.
He inherited this altruism from Usher, an active and ethical politician, who,until now, has several social projects, idealized by him, in force in our state.
I am not an insensitive person or a woman dazzled by the luxurious life we have always had, but I have never omitted that I found a great empathy, my only child, raised with all comfort, to insist on volunteering as a pediatric surgeon at the NGO Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) and embark on the miserable places of Haiti.
Oh... I fingered the knitting needle, I press the tip of my blood-stained finger to stop the wound, I lift the moss-green sweater and give one last check on my son's gift, even though I still have to do some improvements, it's getting beautiful, I think Peter will like it.
I turn my fist to look at the watch and see that it's already eight pm.This boy is very late, did he miss his flight and will arrive later?
Before I complain about Peter's delay, Usher enters the room with his slow steps and calms my moods of neurotic mother, saying that he must already be arriving, he holds my hand and calls me to go to his office, so I see his newest baby: a toy train.
Calling this steam locomotive, atoy is a tremendous lack of respect for my husband's ingenious work. I lean forward and adjust my glasses closely to see better, and look at the designer's details, the little glass windows, the gears and the wagons perfectly recreated. Usher stares at me silently awaiting my opinion, and I demonstrate my admiration with his prototype, hugging him by the waist and kissing him through his beard and lips.
"Usher, it is perfect, this train is just like the one we traveled on our honeymoon.”
“You noticed? That was my intension, Meryl, I wanted to recreate the place where we loved each other for the first time.I guess I did it, right?”
My husband is a romantic guy and I love that he is like this, while I was always the discreet and measured figure of the relationship, he was always responsible for keeping the flame of our marriage lit with unforgettable moments, especially the many trips that we always did together.
Together and usually by train, Usher is so passionate about the life under the rails that our honeymoon was aboard a train, and even Peter's birth happened on a trip,on an express, that we made to Italy.
Usher turns his gadget on and press the remote control, putting the full-lighted train to work. I laughed as I carried my hand to my chest in a mixture of emotions to see the magic of Christmas to happen, and I said him that for his replica to be a perfect train, the only thing that was missing was the smoke.
The doorbell rings,Usher and I walk fast, both of us want to be the first to reach the door to surprise Peter, once my spine is not very good, he gets therefirst and opens the door on the third ring of the bell.
I clap my hands in celebration of my son's late arrival and I cry from the hallway:
"Peter, dear, I know you're really late.But why you didn’t open the door if you had the key? Ah! Boy.”
I stop in the living room and through the half-open gap, I see that instead of my son, a dark-skinned middle-aged man, stands at the door, briefly talking to Usher. My husband invited him to come in and sit down, and said with a worried air:
"This gentleman said that he is Peter's friend and must talk to us."
I sit silently on the couch next to Usher, and while the man keeps his face pale, staring at us with a lost air, I carefullyobserveour unwelcome visitor: dark-skinned, about fifty years old, blue-eyed, straight hair brushed sideways, the man hits his fingers copiously on his trembling thighs, and after almost an eternity like a statue, he begins to speak, hesitantly, with a strong Italian accent, as if he was measuring the right words to say:
“My name is Giancarlo Costardi, I am the chief surgeon of Médecins Sans Frontières in the Sud region and I have worked with Peter since he arrived in Haiti. First of all, I would like to express my feelings to you and tell you how much I feel honored to have worked with such a young man but so dedicated to the mission to save lives. I do not know how to start saying...”
I get up from the sofa, forgetting for a second the pain in my spine, which get worst in this cold days, I feel a shock of adrenaline that invades me, as if a shoal of eels has attacked me and I complain, irritated, walking sideways.
"You could start at the beginning, I think it would be the easiest thing to do, after all, I still have to finish my son's sweater and I need to make dinner.”
- Meryl! Usher snapped, making me a sign to shut up and the man to continue.
I lookat my husband angry. Why hasn’t he put this guy out of our house yet? I do not want to know what this man intends to tell us, as long as his look of regret for both of us is only a conjecture, a suspicion, we are protected from the reality ... Why do people insist on pursuing the truth, when sometimes itonly tramples on us? Roll over us like a tractor? Can you serve me a little lie that warms my soul?
Apparently no, once the blessed "member of Cosa Nostra" decides to continue, while taking a handkerchief out of the pocket of his rumpled gray suit and wiping his eyes, partially hiding his face.
“Our medical post in Sud, a zone of intense conflict in Haiti, was plundered by an armed group of revolutionaries who oppose the current government, they stole medications, medical devices and accessories, some doctors and employees went into combat, trying to prevent that they invaded the children's ward, the looters opened fire, unfortunately Peter was hit and...”
“And what? Damn, I have a lot of things to do, tell me what you did to my son? I gave him to you, handsome, healthy, whole, and what do you, you bastard, full of humanitarian speeches give me back? What are you doing here? Saying that my son got into a fight that was not his, had a bullet in his head to save Haiti's miserable children and died? At twenty-eight, five days away from Christmas?
"Meryl, for heaven’s sake, do not say such things, no one is guilty for what happened, it was a fatality." Usher shook his head reproving my relief as if I was an inconvenient little child.
Fatality? It would be a fatality if my son had been buried by an avalanche, when he posed as a superhero in a zone of dangerous conflict of these, this tragedy would be the only result... A tragedy that Usher could have prevented to happen, if he had not encouraged our son forvolunteering in this damn NGO.
Damn Usher, damn Costardi, all damn.
Usher puts his hands on his face and stares at me and the damned man, as if he does not believe in the misfortune that has just happened.
The man looks at us desolated, with his lowered eyes, shaking his head.
Why is this man still standing in my living room like a tree taking root?
Did not thisdevil emissary tell us what he wanted? What does he expect, that I thank him every minute, hour and day, the weekends, Thanksgiving holidays, the birthdays I've been without my son, since he went to that damn mission?
And now, the gift I’m going to receive from Santa, because I was a good mother the whole year, is my son's body and his eternal absence?
My mind, at this moment,goes backto the past, when I still had my little boy sheltered in my arms, sitting on the kitchen table, stuffing himself with apple pie.
I hear Usher's voice in the distance and feel his arms shaking me by the shoulders, but I ignore his grasp.The memories of those happy days are too sweet for me to return to the present, which devours my memories without mercy or pity, greeting the stranger in front of me in a nod, and I sit down on the chair by the window, knitting the last details of my son's moss-green sweater, looking at the living-room door, while I wait...
***
After a terrible delay in the transfer from Haiti to here, Peter was buried with honors worthy of a Head of State, on a rainy and cloudy Saturday. As the cemetery emptied, Usher insisted me to go home, but all I wanted was a little peace and quiet, being able to be alone with my boy, it was still too early to leave him, I had so much for talking with him, so many unfinished plans, so many hugs lost ... I was not ready to go back to our house and find the sweater on the couch, notfinished yet.
A day later and Christmas comes... Usher watches me in the kitchen, through a double glass of whisky, his newest inseparable companion, where one is, surely the other will be, side by side. Although we've had Sally’s help in our house for years, a fantastic cook, I make a point of preparing the meal today.
I woke up early to prepare our dinner and I prepared everything we like, as always: roasted lamb, rice, potatoes, nuts, and the apple pie with cinnamon that Peter loves.
I dry my hands in my apron after washing the dishes, and I say to Usher, who looks at me with a strange face:
“Usher, honey, light the fireplace on, Peter will be here in a while, and you know how cold your son is."
He leaves his glass on the table and comes up to me, holding me by my shoulders, so I stop drying the dishes and faces him.
“Meryl, listen to me, our boy will not come, I need you to stay strong with me, the guilt that I feel for having encouraged him to go on this mission is already killing me, he will not come back dear, not today, not ever more.
Oh My God!Why does my husband talk such thing, is this stinking whiskey that is making any effect on his drunken mind?
"Stop talking idiot things, of course Peter will come back."
I hear the first ringing of the doorbell and complain to Usher, hurrying to answer it. Usher continues to stare at me with sad eyes, I open the door and face my boy.My eyes fill with tears, but I hold myself, because I know he hates to see me crying, even with the blurred vision, I watch him from top to bottom, realizing how much he lost weight on this mission.
Peter smiles for me in that shy way that's just him, dressed beautifully in the sweater I made for him last Christmas.
I step back for him to pass by and say to Usher, who stares at me:
"I told you my son will come back!" Now stop being lazy, old lazy man, and go light the fireplace on, while I set the table for us.
THREE WEEKS LATER
By Meryl Chapman
My eyes are passing through the dead walls in this dull clinic. Damn it! This terrible place makes me feel anguished, claustrophobic, I need to go away from here fast. I dry my sweaty, cold hands at the hem of my floral skirt and make a sound with my mouth showing my dissatisfaction in waiting for the damned doctor to attend to a last-minute patient who had a “schizophrenia crisis”.
I look at the door, counting to ten, trying not to go away from there and wonder why did my husband bring me to this mad house? Oh, you know what? I have more important things to do than to stay here like a statue, in this weird clinic. Did that doctor steal the scenery from the movie Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, or his intention is that all the patients go away from here quickly?
“Usher, I am not going to wait for this doctor anymore, I need to prepare our dinner.”
“Meryl, please, if you love me, you need to let me help you, you need a medical help, I cannot help you by myself.” – answered him quickly.
In contrast to the morbidity of his blue eyes, I open my mouth, the answer was scratching on the tip of my tongue, however, I thought for a few seconds and I preferred, at this moment, to shut up avoiding us to argue again,once our relationship is getting worse and worse.
I do not want to bewilder Usher, or to annoy him more than healready is, but I do not understand why my husband insists on saying that I need help, while it’s he who only sleeps with calming drugs and large doses of whiskyevery night. If there is a person who is totally out of control, that one is Usher.
Five minutes later, a little guy with a spiky blond hair, seeming to be in his thirties, opens the office door and introduces himself as Dr. Paul Cameron. I curl my lips in a half smile, thinking that if I were his mother, I would force him to use a comb and some gel on this bird's nest and I wait for him to start shredding his rosary of medical terms with unspeakable names which, in the end, say nothing about me, about how I feel.
He sits down in front of us and opens my medical chart, asking me a thousand of stupid questions, for more than half an hour, when he is satisfied to prescribe a list of medicine more extensive than the sacred scriptures, he finally closes the medical chartand talks to Usher, ignoring that I am also in this office and I am the most interested in the subject.
“The initial diagnosis is that your wife is experiencing a post-traumatic stress disorder.”
I tilt my head, trying to get into Dr. Spiky’s field of vision, the way that I became invisible in his view, and he continues to talk only with Usher, I think I will have to draw a target to be noticed, if I forgot the pain in my spine maybe I could dance tango in the middle of the office.
“Hi, doctor?”
I decide to appeal by waving for him, but I note that I am, in this room, less important than the clips.
“She oscillates between moments of lucidity, as now, when she is aware of time and space, recognizes the loss of your child.Butin other times, shelives in another world, a delirium, and her recent memory is compromised. Mrs. Chapman will need to do additional examinations, but for now I'm going to prescribe these medications to minimize the symptoms of this phase of the disorder.”
Blah-blah-blah, I listen patiently to all this boring chatter and after Usher asks a lot of another questions, I stare at him and say pointing to the doctor:
"Since we're going to talk about all the problems that afflict us, why don’t we tell the chick, I'm sorry ... Tell this young man that you take a lot of drugs, like diazepam and large doses of whisky every day, making my life a hell. Why can’t you leave me alone with my son? And if I'm crazy, will not it be better than dead? How do you think I feel, can you imagine where I would like to be right now? I tell you. I would love to be at this moment resting in the silence of our family's grave, in the shadow of that beautiful oak tree, beside Peter, there is where I would like to be, not here, watching you to pose as a strong man who baresthe mourning and killing himself like a coward, one dose after another.”
We returned home with a terrifying silence in company, lonelier than ever. As soon as we got home, I dispense Sally and dip into one of my favorite hobbies: I go to the kitchen to make a nut cake for ourafternoon coffee break that is late.
Usher, as usual, is more and more distant from me and stay into his office, clinging to his memories of our happy days, by his useless little toy train.
***
I open the curtain discreetly to snoop on whoever is ringing the doorbell, I confirm that unfortunately it is Laura at the door, holding a wrap in her hand covered by a cloth. Although the Sarandon have been following our lives for years on end, they have been Peter’s godparents and our friends for more than twenty years, I honestly do not want to hear Laura's endless speech about that I need to go to a psychiatric clinic, to leave my oddity and tobe "myself" again.
I move away from the door and hear Laura's shrill voice, making me laugh out loud, without my wanting to.
"Meryl, do not pretend you're not at home, I know you're there, open this door or I'm going to die frozen here at your front door and it'll be your fault!"
I give up playing hide and seeking with my best friend, and I open the door, reluctantly. Laura steps into the room, before I give one more of my excuses not to answer her, she hands me the package, exuding a delicious scent of cinnamon and as soon as I remove the covering cloth, I face her irresistible walnut cake, huge and golden brown, urging me to taste it. The delicious scent offresh dough that has just taken out of the oven shoots me in the face, that I am nothing more than a greedy bitch, I take a deep breath and silently say a relaxing mantra: "By the walnut cake I can make that effort, as soon as I finish eating the last crumb of this cake, I can kick Laura out of here." I give Laura a yellow half-hearted smile, amused by the crazy ideas of my fat mind and invite her to sit with me in the kitchen while I prepare us a tea.
Laura pulls out the chair and sits her perfect bodyon the chair, putting her long blond hair in a high bun.
"I still cannot get into this kitchen without remembering Peter.”
"Neither do I, I'll even keep a piece of cake for him, you know he loves it, does not he?"
Laura shakes her head in denial, holds out her arm to me and takes my hand, speaking slower than necessary, as if I'm an idiot that she needs to convince of something obvious.
“Meryl, you have to face what happened to Peter, running away from reality will not bring you back, I can imagine your pain, only a mother knows what you are feeling, I do not even want to think how I would deal with it if such a tragedy happens to Brad, but keeping yourself into this fantasy will not help you at all, and even Peter will not be able to rest in peace. I've been talking to Usher one of these days about you and he cannot bear having to deal with the pain of Peter's loss and your health problem, don’t you think it would be better, I mean, maybe, a clinic, resting, relaxing...”
"Taking dozes of medicine, with the drool dripping from the corner of my mouth, that catatonic look, standing in front of a wall of a lunatic asylum, no Laura, I thank you and Usher for the suggestion, but I prefer to continue here,in my house, bearing your pity every day, and the drunken nights of my idolized husband." Then, I interrupt her idiot speech, because I am tired of everyone around me insisting on convincing me that I'd be better to accept that I'm crazy, and go out screaming like a mad girl.
“Dear, I do not mean it, but your resistance of the treatment will founder soon your relationship with Usher, at least think about it, your husband and your friends only want to help you, Meryl.”
"I amthankful, Laura, but I do not want to talk about it anymore, you're the only friend I have, and I do not want to fight with you at all,let’s have our tea in peace, okay?"
Between slices of cake and cups of tea, Laura and I laughed remembering when I moved here, newly married, and the difficulty I had in having to deal with the false friendship and indifference of some neighbors.
"Remember how Adele looked at me? As if I was some leprous woman.She is disgusting, all plasticized.Until now, I cannot explain why she looked at me in that strange way, I think it was a mixture of intestinal constipation and extra G dildos in her ass. You and Clint had already lived here when we arrived, you were pregnant, living such an important moment, and you were so helpful, generous in welcoming us, Usher and I knew nothing and no one, I thank you every day for the support you gave us, without you would be much harder to adapt to this city.
"Adele and her friends found themselves the ambassadors of morals and good manners in the neighborhood. I loved when you arrived, a young but firm woman, independent, with asuccessful husband, showing those bitchesthat you are better, I am also thankful for your friendship, and the generosity of Usher in indicating Clint to the job in the bank...”
“He's a Regional Manager today”. I interrupt her with a smile, because we both know how much Clint lives for his work and how it irritates Laura.
"But it all started with Usher's nomination for a clerk's seat, if it were not for him, maybe Clint would continue to be an accountant in that construction company, living a boring life, you know how Clint is shy, discreet, he's not that kind of man that exposes his feelings, but he is really grateful to everything Usher did, you can be sure of that, Meryl, and talking about Usher, where is he?”
"If he isn’t in the yard, he is in the office, making somerepairsin hisnewest baby.”
“I know. The train.I have to go now, I still need to buy a few things in the market.Can I use your bathroom?”
“You don’t need to ask for it Laura. You know where it is, I’m going to water the flowers, and I’ll see you at the porch.”
I've already looked the whole pantry for the damn wateringbut I cannot find it anywhere, how can I water my roses without it? For heaven’s sake! I do not even admit it to the mirror, but I have to give in that my memory is terrible, everything I seek miraculously disappear or I do not know where I have kept my things. I’ve already found the rake, my old spatula, which I use to dig the earth, but the watering can just be disappeared, did I leave it in the laundry?
I open the pantry door and face Peter, wearing the same red sweater from when I saw him on that unforgettable Christmas night; I cover my mouth with my hand not to shout and then I smile, looking up at his face,so beautiful, serene. Suddenly a comforting delight invades me while I see my son, bringing my reason back, all I think at this moment is how much his blue, translucent, deep eyes remind me of a sunny day, and how his timid smile can be so charming.
Although I know my son rests under that oak tree, for me it does not matter if his presence in front of me is only my imagination, ora despair of mother that fights tooth and nail to the unbreakable link that unites us. How can these idiots say that it is all over, that my son is but dead flesh and eaten by the worms, if I see him, I hear him, I feel him in the same way as when I had him in my arms for the first time? If the love that overflows from his eyes when facing me right now is not life, what is it then? For everything to be perfect, all I could do was touching him, I moved towards him and as if he could see my intention, he stepped back, he looks uncomfortable.
I smile amused and he looks serious. Peter silently puts his hands into the pocket of his shabby jeans and turns around walking along the corridor. Shit! I still needed to find my watering can, but I decided to water the flowers later and go after him to find out what my boy wants, he walks fast and when I reach the end of the hall, I do not see him anymore, where did he go?
The heated tones of Laura and Usher's voices distract me for a moment to look for Peter, and I slowly approach the office door and I hear them arguing, how strange, they never disagreed for anything, what happened to Laura to be so upset.
"I'm fed up with your promises, it’s enough for me,and this is the end, Usher.For how many more years will I remain in the shadows, having to satisfy myself with the leftovers, the crumbs of Meryl and Peter? You promised me you'd sort this out from last year and what did you do? Nothing.Absolutely nothing”.
Usher stutters and talks nervously:
"Sweetheart, for Heaven's sake, understand it, my son died a short time ago and she's sick, I do not have the courage to let her in a moment like this, Meryl needs me, at least for now, she has no alive relatives, she’s only got me, if she at least accepted to go to a clinic, I could go on. I'd be a monster if I did such an atrocity. Please, try to understand me”.
Sweetheart? Usher is calling our son’s godmother, the one who is my friend for more than twenty years, as sweetheart? And I, I've always been just Meryl ... Meryl's betrayed wife, the dumbest betrayed woman from New Jersey. Since when have they tricked me? How could I not notice the truth in front of me, all these years? The excessive generosity of Usher, who on several occasions lent considerable sums to Clint and never wanted such loans to be paid, he certainly felt guilty of charging the money, since he fucked his friend's wife.
"Are you complaining that I'm not being tolerant? For how many more years will we have to continue to love each other in hiding? You justify your lack of courage in not deciding, saying that Meryl needs you, what about me? And Brad? He's your son; does not he need you, too?”
Brad is my godson, who has always treated by both of us as a son, is the fruit of the betrayal of my husband and my best friend? It's not possible! My legs weaken and I lean against the wall, trying to find strength from anywhere but I do not have it, I’m covering my mouth so that neither of them will hear that I am crying. How to endure the terrifying impact of everything I've just heard? They have not just been lovers all this time, how could they had a child together and got me to baptize the boy and tell Clint to take after the child as his?
I want to scream, I want to slap them until my arms get tired, to make them suffer some of this pain I'm feeling, but all I can do is escape, staggering down the hallway with my legs shaking like jelly and my eyes so full of tears that I can barely see where I am walking.
THE POWERFUL VENOM OF REVENGE
By Meryl Chapman
It has been one week since I go to bed every night before Usher, with the excuse of being tired, so I did not have to spit on his face, that now, I know all the truth. Seven days away from my false happiness, before that afternoon, despite the devastation of lose my son, everything makes sense, I had a solid marriage that has been built over the years, with love and companionship, but today I cannot ignore the truth, no matter how much it tears my soul, the fact is that all my happy and organized life was nothing more than a lie.
I look at myself in the mirror as I renewa soft makeup I've just painted on my face, it does not only hide the dark circles under my eyes – which are making me look like a panda bear – but also my true face, and who I have been since the truth had exposed me ... A woman, looking for revenge, trampled, scorned by the people I loved the most.
The feeling I have is as if they had broken me and pulled away from me everything that was good and pure, one day I believed in the power of love and friendship, but today it's nothing more than liefor me, what's left of Meryl is just an irresistible desire to hurt them deep in their soul, just as they did to me, all I have left now is the ethereal companionship of my son, alive or dead, he has always been everything I have in this life, he never left me ... And from tonight it's just me and Peter, nobody else.
Today is Usher's birthday, and despite my mourning, he made sure I prepared dinner to receive "our" friends, now I realize that his intention was to celebrate with his lover.Surely, it must have been her who insisted on this dinner, so they could celebrate together, hidden under the shadow of our long-standing friendship.
I finish spreading a red lipstick on my lips and after taking one last check in my black Versace dress, I go downstairs angry for having to participate of this farce: "The celebration of my perfect husband's birthday."
He waits for me in the living room, dressed elegantly in a navy-blue suit that combined with his blue eyes, I have always loved the color of his eyes, so clear, crystalline, but this night his mask of honorable man does not cover his face anymore. I cannot see anything nowbesides his false beauty, everything around me sounds fake, our walls filled with memories built on a base of cheating, the guests who stared me with a false smile on their face, eventhe necklace that Laura is wearing tonight ... Everything here is false. She quickly stands up from the couch where she was sitting, arranges the red dress that embraces her perfect shape and moves forward towards me, hugging me hard, more than necessary, I give back a frosty smile like an iceberg and greeted her, extending her my face to receive her Judas’s kiss.
"You look great, Meryl!These earrings fit perfectly with your dress, are they rubies?"
"Yes, they are an Usher's gift, aren’t they beautiful? And yours,they are beautiful too, so big, they arediamond, right? Well, well, you are making an excellent work in the bank, yeah, Clint?”
Clint chuckles, holding his fat belly, his chubby red cheeks, and says looking at Laura's earrings:
“I only gave the necklace, I wish the bank paid well, I would cover my Lau in jewels, the earrings were a friend’s gift.Right, dear?”
Lau... the little ‘Naughty bitch’, I think that would be the perfect nickname for my "friend" Laura. She nods with her sweet cheeks, Usher disguises and leaves the room, saying that he's going to serve wine for everyone, I can imagine which friend gave those expensive earrings to thatbitch...
Everyone praises the roasted partridge that I've prepared, I peep itmany times, put it into my mouth and chew, automatically, without any pleasure, why I am sharing the table with these two traitors, on a day that should be so special?It takes away my appetite, but, apparently, it's not just me who is having a difficult night, Laura has already drunk more than she should and her eyes, glazed by alcohol, do not leave Usher for a minute, sometimes she throws me and Clint a look angry, exhausted And I'm left wondering if she's not tired of living this underground romance, I suppose it must be very laborious and tiring to make us smuggle for so long.
Clint tells a lot of idiot jokes and Laura forces the laughter to keep her husband ashamed, for Heaven’s Sake, it is not possible that besides having to bear the weight of their betrayal on my head, my ears still need to be tortured with such these idiot things coming out of Clint's mouth. I try to disguise that I'm about to throw all the food in the face of these three depressing figures in front of me, I stand up, giving the lamest excuse to bring the dessert, it is still in time to hear Usher and Clint combining to propose to Brad going to the bowling club.
How beautiful... Dad, the idiot, and their son, the three guys together, it’s so touching!
I serve everyone a cup of strong coffee and that hellish and torturer dinner, at last, comes to its end. Laura is in the most agitated moment, especially after talking to me privately about the blessed hospitalization she insists, and hears from me, as an answer, that I do not intend to leave my house to get into a nursing home at all. Clint leaves the living room for smoking a cigar on the porch and Usher tells us that he needs to make an important call in the office... And, as expected by me, Laura says that she needs to go to the bathroom and changes her absorbent. Is these disgusting ‘couple’intending to mock me and fuckinsidemy house? I follow her through the hallway, thinking it wasthat clear she would not let such an opportunity to pass for a few moments alone with her lover.
She gets into the office without looking back and I quickly have an idea... Talking about opportunities, just like this opportunistic bitch, I couldn’t let a chance like thatto escape between my fingers.
Suddenly the night seems to be perfect ... Perfect for ripping off the masks that they insist on hiding, the perfect day to straighten things out and solve this situation once and for all.
I turn quickly on the porch and still find Clint taking in some pure air, distracted watching the falling snow, I come close to him silently and talk at once without hesitating.
"Clint, do you trust me?"
"Of course, yes, what a silly question, Meryl”.– He answered me by putting out his cigar on the floor.
"So, come with me without asking questions, don’t make any noise, you are a good man, you do not deserve to be fooled for as long as I did."
“But what you're talking about ...”
“Shh, I said no questions, hurry up and come with me, now!”
Clint stops behind me; leaning against the wall next to the office, as soon as he hears the contents of the discussion rising in the room, his face becomes pale. Laura does not care to keep her discretion and gives Usher an ultimatum, almost screaming.
"It's enough, Usher, it's over twenty years since you’ve said you're going to get divorced and I have to wait, day after day, sleeping next to a disgusting man, I thought you loved me and loved our son. Why didyou kept the engagement with Meryl, if you loved me? We could have been together for so long. How do you think I felt about being forced to marry a man I’ve never loved, just to give a father to the son you never had the courage to take care? I've waited for too long.What about you? What did you actually do to end this sea of lies that our lives have transformed? Do you know what Meryl told me? She will not go to any clinic, she thinks she looks great, but every day she gets crazier: knitting sweaters, serving meals, celebrating Christmas with a child that is being eaten by worms, if she will not get out of our way, what do you intend to do, to get rid of her once and for all?
What is this bitch intending to propose to Usher? I suddenly get into the office and they both stare at me with theirscarred and pale faces as wax figures.
"What did you intend to propose him, Laura, to kill me? Would it be your next step to get rid of me and live your beautiful love story?”
"Meryl, how long were you there for? You got it all wrongly, that's not what you're thinking, I would never...”
"Have sex with my husband for over twenty years, would you have had a child with him, would you try to kill me to become Governor Usher Chapman’s wife? All this you have already done, dear, now you only need to act with dignity and admit your fault here, before me and your husband”.
I tell Clint,who is still standing in the doorway, like a statue: "You can come in now, Clint."And I keep pointing my finger at Laura and Usher: "You're two damned traitors”.
Clint goes in the direction of Usher like a maddening beast, and theyboth fight, with punches and kicks, like two little boys fighting over the same toy.
Laura tries to separate the fight, while she says unspeakable words to me, blaming me for all her unhappiness.
"It's your fault; you’re a bastard, why do not you get out of our lives?"
Clint crawls over to the fireplace, picks up a poker, threatening Usher, and for a fraction of a second this night doesn’t end in a tragedy, just as I scream, causing Clint to awaken from his uncontrollable desire for revenge.
"NO, Clint, do not do this! Killing him will not change anything, it will not end the pain we're both feeling, give me Clint, give it to me now, get up from there, redo your life and let those bastards think they'll be happy. It is not possible that so much lies and pain can bear good results.”
Clint hesitates with the poker in his hand, his face is upset and his hands are trembling, denouncing how much he is overcome by hatred. However, whennone of us was waiting, he rises from the ground and hands me the poker, crying like a child, and this scene broke my heart.
He faces Laura and Usher –they are kneeling and hugging, trying to protect themselves – and leaves the office without a word.
As soon as the door closes, I breathe, realizing only now that I was holding my breath, I take the poker, my chest is rising and falling uncontrolled and as soon as I take the first blow, I only stop when there is only one heap of useless iron, wood and glass.
“I'll destroy your dreams, just like you did with mine...”
Usher screams desperately, crying like a baby to see his train, which took months to be completed, the concrete symbol of his happiest days, completely destroyed.
I just put a few clothes, my jewels, and a small amount of money into my bag and closed the door without looking back, facing an uncertain future.
***
WHAT I LIKE IS GOING AWAY WITHOUT HAVING PLAINS...
The days have passed fast, and in every new hour there is still something to live for, after that night that was a watershed in my life, I stayed in a modest hotel in New York and from there I decided to make the great trip of my life. It’s only me, my son and no one else.
I stretch under the sheets, in the morning, and the first thing I stare at as soon as I open my eyes is the silver urn where I kept Peter's ashes. The whole process to exhume his body and cremated it was slower than I had expected, but at least for this, Usher was worthy, he did notoppose when I formalized my desire, agreeing in writing, so that it could be completed allthe bureaucratic part of our son's late cremation.
I believe that his sudden collaboration is the result of an intelligent plain, since after I filed a divorce petition; I abdicated a considerable part of our property, which would be mine by right.
Money, cars, houses and stocks will not bring my most prized possession back, all I have left is the pain of his irreparable lack, a bitterness on my lips and sometimes an unrestrained hatred for everything and everyone: this ferocious and inhuman cruelty society that puts on opposite sides young humanists who think they are heroes, like my son and the miserable ones who fight against the system, armed with sticks and stones, just like the group of marauders who murdered him in cold blood.
Who is the responsible for this war? My son, the men who killed him or the system that entrenched them, that moved them as they were just one more life, according to their shadowy interests? I turn on the television and the news of a bomb attack in Turkey is spoken on the news, I look at the urn and talk to my son, who stares at me with serious air, sitting on the couch.
"Honestly, I do not know if those wretches and power-owners do not deserve a bomb.It's a shame so many innocent people died because of this radical act, but I will not lie to you, the hatred that sometimes is around me, makes me think, if it is fair only me to suffer, while everyone laughs? Happiness, just as suffering, should not be better divided?Is it a divine desire so many miserable ones, as your father and Laura smile, while the others only have to cry?”
Peter shakes his head in disbelief and smiles for me, as if I'm a child who only talks nonsense things. My phone rings and when I see the name on my cellphone display, I rush to answer it.
“Meryl?”
"Yes, do you have any news for me?"
“Yes, it is confirmed.”
This ‘yes’ changes my life in a vertiginous way, and I could not contain myself, my eyes are filled with tears, the death of my son will not have been in vain...
"So, can I wait for you in London?"
"Yes, I'm going straight to London, I'll keep in touch with you, okay?Unfortunately, such work is never cheap, Mrs. Chapman, I will need to grease some palms, so you can get what you want, but if I get caught, I may be arrested, but I've never failed a service.”
I turn off the phone euphoric, thinking about how my life has gone around in 360 degrees since the call I received from Peter's boss, Giancarlo Costardi.
