A/N: They still belong to Jonathan. Still no end it site. I told you all this would be long. Keep reviewing though!
"Where do you want this?" I shift the weight of the box I am barely holding on to.
"Over here, by the couch. That way we can go through it." She points to a space between the couch and the coffee table, to small
for the box. I just drop it where I
am.
"We can look through it from
here." I swear my mother had a list of
odd jobs that she has been saving for me. So far today, I have helped her rearrange the furniture, uncover the
pool, hang up pictures and now she is having me move boxes to and from the
attic. The current box was one of the
four that had been packed and stacked in my old closet, filled with my old
possessions. She packed them up for me
when she turned it into an exercise room. Six years, these boxes were stacked in my former room, and she has been
waiting for me to come home and go through them, so that I can take what I
want.
I collapse on the carpet near the box, wiping the sweat
from my forehead. I open the box and
find the contents of what used to be in my life. Like old friends I pull the items out one by one and get
reacquainted. Various Star Wars
action figures; a now broken, once collector edition, model of the Millennium
Falcon, a framed picture of Indiana Jones, signed by Steven Spielberg and
Harrison Ford, and at the bottom, my first script. I laugh as I pull it out of the box, the pages stained by time,
and open it to the middle. I read the
terrible science-fiction farce that I attempted, I remember the hours spent
creating miniature spaceships and then even more hours trying to make imitate
the first shot of 2001: A Space Odyssey.
I actually put that in the pile to keep, and put the rest
of the contents back in the box. My
mother carries out the rest of the boxes, two of them are full of clothing I
haven't worn since I was eighteen. I
briefly dig through it and push it aside. I may not be a fashion guru, but I know that these clothes weren't even
in style then. "Good will, mom." I push the box towards her and then start
through the last one.
This is the one I was wondering about. It holds my high school yearbooks and photo
albums from my childhood. Before I got
into film, I had a 35mm camera that I utilized every chance I had. I sit and look through each picture, looking
for some sort of clue. A clue to what,
I am not sure, but I search for something.
Because I was the photographer for most of the pictures,
I rarely appear. There are a lot of my
sister, her cat Queen Victoria, and a few of my parents. My parents stayed together for much longer
than they should have. Just scanning
through the photos, there are hardly any of them together, and if they are,
they are on separate sides of the frame. My mother is always smiling though.
Even then, I knew they weren't in love. I didn't find out until I was fifteen about
all the women my father had been with. My mother knew, but she stayed with him, too afraid of the stigma of
being a divorcee. Our house was
silenced by their secrets and their unhappiness. My mother, always concerned about what the neighbors thought,
kept up appearances. She showered us
with love and affection, though I always felt it was an act. On the other hand, my dad was miserable in
this house, and he wanted to make everyone else miserable with him. He was impossible to live with. I learned quickly to just keep my mouth
shut, so that I wouldn't say something to piss him off, or give him fuel to
ride me on.
"Mark, shouldn't you get ready to meet your father?" I look down at my faded t-shirt and jeans,
and nod. "When I was folding your
laundry, I picked out what I thought was your nicest shirt and pants."
"Mom, why were you doing my laundry?"
"Because, you have nothing to wear. I wish I had something here for you to
borrow, you don't have tie do you?" I laugh and shake my head. "Tomorrow, you and I will go to the mall,
I'll buy you some decent clothes."
"No, Ma, I'm fine. My clothes are fine."
"When was the last time you bought something new? Everything is faded or has holes in it. Come on, the slob look is over."
"I'm a filmmaker, I don't need to dress up."
"I'll wake you up at nine tomorrow, ok?"
I raise my hands, "Whatever."
I go into the guestroom and sure enough she has laid out
my one shirt that has a collar and no stains. I quickly change, glance at my reflection and leave the house. My mom let me borrow her car and it takes me
a little bit to get used to driving again. I absently wonder if my license is even valid, knowing I have never
renewed it.
The drive to the country club is quick. The longest part of it is the long driveway
that takes you around the perimeter of the golf course and tennis courts. I park the car next to a Mercedes and as I'm
walking by I notice the license plate Cohen1. Great.
I walk in and look around for my father. It has been six years since I've seen him,
and the last time was a disaster. I
have talked to him exactly three times since then, including last night. The last time I saw him was when I went home
for what was supposed to be the summer between my sophomore and junior year at
Brown. He had gotten me a job working
at his bank; everything was all set up for me. But I had different plans.
Benny,
who I had become pretty good friends with that year, was moving to New York
with some friends for the summer. He
spent the time between Spring Break and finals convincing me to go with
him. "The rent will practically nothing
with all of us there, just think of what you could film, just think of who you
could meet…" I really didn't need a lot of convincing.
There
were five days between the time they kicked me out of the dorm, to the time we
could move into the loft. Five days to
deal with the family, and then freedom. I decided not to tell my parents about my plan until I was home. I told my mom first, and though she cried,
she understood why I wanted to go. "You'll be back to do you laundry, and dinner once a week, right?" I falsely promised her I would.
I
went to my dad's on the third night. I
was supposed to start the job on June 2nd, June 1st I was
planning on moving. He didn't take the
news well. He called me lazy, a
slacker, a hippie, a faggot, and immature. He told me if I embarrassed him by not showing for work on Monday, then
I could forget about going back to Brown. He flatly refused to pay my tuition, and threatened to make sure my
mother wouldn't be able to either.
He
had been drinking. Nothing
unusual. Brandy was his favorite. I tried it once when I was fourteen; it
tasted like mouthwash that had gone bad.
In
the twenty years up to that point, my father had called me every name there
ever was, criticized every decision I ever made, found fault with everything I
ever accomplished, but he never hit me. Not until that night.
I
wasn't saying anything. I told him my
decision. My voice was confident and
steady; I knew if I showed him weakness, I would be staying in Scarsdale. But this was something I wanted, something I
needed to do. So I told him and he
began to rant. He threw his glass at
me, missing me by about five inches. It
shattered when it hit the wall. This
pissed him off. He came after me, and
shoved me against the wall. He dared me
to talk back, but I remained silent. He
finally stepped away, and looked at me with his bloodshot eyes. I'll never forget what he said to me, and
I'll never forget my response.
"You
are setting yourself up for a paltry, pathetic life. You are never going to make something of yourself. You are a failure, you have never succeeded
in anything."
"Like
father, like son, Dad."
That
was when his fist hit my jaw.
I
walked out of his apartment, went to the house and packed up everything that I
could carry. My mother, probably having
taken some sort of sleeping pill, was passed out on the couch. I scribbled a note to her and caught the
next bus to New York. I never went
back.
Until
now.
I
spot my father at the bar, where else? It surprises me that he in now gray; though it would make sense. I quickly calculate in my head, my father is
has turned sixty. The thought seems
strange. My father is an old man.
His
back is turned towards me as I approach; he is having a very animated
discussion with the man sitting next to him. I notice the familiar glass of golden liquid placed in front of him. I absently comb my hair with my fingers and
tap him on the shoulder.
"Hey
Dad." I give him a wave, and then drop
my hand, feeling stupid.
"Mark! Christ, look at you!" I nod. "Shit, you grew up."
And
you grew old, "Yeah, that happens I
guess."
He
turns away from me and finishes his conversation with the other man, downs the
rest of his drink and slams his glass on the bar. "Well, shall we?"
I
nod and follow him. The waitress knows
him by name and we are seated immediately. I peruse the menu, deciding on what I want, he doesn't even look at
it. We still haven't said a word.
The
waitress comes over and he orders another brandy, and asks me what I want. I order a tea and ignore my father's
scoffing. "So, what brings you to
Scarsdale?"
I
shrug, "I don't know, needed to get out of the city, see Mom…" The waitress
brings me my tea and I begin to stir it absently.
"Oh isn't that sweet?" I look up at him, "So,
get anymore job offers that you could turn down lately?"
"Nope."
"I
still can't believe that Buzzline thing, seriously, I saw your stuff on
the news… I was impressed, but of course you had to go fuck it up."
"Of
course I did, I wouldn't be your kid if I didn't."
He slams his hand on his table
and leans over, pointing his finger in my face; "You best not cause a scene
here, ok? Let's just leave well enough
alone."
"Fine,
Father, whatever. Wouldn't want
to upset you club friends." I roll my
eyes and sit back in my chair.
"Ok,
well," he takes a big sip of his drink, "if you aren't working, there must be a
girl. Who is she?"
"There's
no one."
He
gets a little smirk on his face, "I knew it. You're a faggot, aren't you?"
"Dad, would you shut up?"
"Fuck,
you are. Great, there is something to
put in the Holiday Cards this year. No
wonder you like living where you do, your kind is all over the place."
I
stand up, "Well this was great fun, remind me six years from now, not to
bother…"
"Mark, sit your ass down. I'm only joking with you."
I
stand there for a moment, debating on what to do. I sit down. I know I
shouldn't but something forces me too. Somehow, if I can make it through this dinner, I think I may figure
something out. Though I am not exactly
sure what.
"Listen,
Mark, I don't care who you fuck, as long as your getting some." He laughs into his drink, and I smile and
nod.
"Well
I'm not, so you don't have to worry."
"What? You're not gay or you're not getting any?"
"Neither…
I mean… either… forget it." The
waitress comes back and we order, after she leaves I try and turn the
tables. "What about you dad? Seeing anyone?"
"Oh
you know, son, here and there. Some
more special than others." He grins at
me.
"Yeah,
I bet." We sit in silence until the
food comes. I swirl the spoon around my
tea; my father lights up a cigar. Amazing, father and son, and we have nothing to say.
The
waitress brings us our food and my father tries again. "So your sister told me your roommate has
AIDS. That must be pretty tough." I look up at him, is my father showing an
ounce of compassion? "I mean, it must
real hard to stay away from him, right?"
Of
course he isn't. Why the hell should I
think he would? Somehow, bringing Roger
into the conversation sets me off. He
has no idea about my friends, my life or me. And I don't know anything about his, and I don't want to.
I take
a deep breath and words that I have been holding in my entire life begin to
escape. "Dad, I don't feel I need to
explain my life to you. You didn't care
about me when I was growing up," are these words coming from my mouth? "And you
don't care about me now." Keep going,
don't stop now, "Thing is, it took me 26 years to figure it out, I don't care
about you either." My voice is calm, steady, low; "I stopped trying to please
you a long time ago. When I did, that
was when my real life began. You know nothing
about my real life, and you never will." I stand up, dig through my pockets and throw the rest of the money Roger
gave me on the table, "I don't want anything from you, I don't owe you
anything."
"Mark,
you walk away from me…" His voice is louder, fiercer than mine is.
"No,
wait, I do owe you something. YOU gave
me the skills to be a great filmmaker. You
taught me how to shut up and disappear. You taught me how to hide me feelings, to bottle them up, to not
share. You taught me how to view
the world through a 1 inch lens."
"You
fucking pathetic, whiny brat. I gave you a good home, I sacrificed my life to
raise you and this is the thanks I get?"
"Yep,
this is the thanks you get."
I
walk out of the club and go to my mother's car. I pass by the Mercedes with the Cohen1 license plate. I'm tempted to key it, or kick it or
something. But I don't. Every ounce of courage I ever had was left
back in that restaurant.
Somehow,
I am able to drive. Somehow, I make it
back to the house. I get out of the car
and walk into the living room. My
mother is watching TV. I sit down with her; she asks me how it went. I tell her fine. She says I am home early, I say the service was quick.
I
excuse myself and go into the guestroom. I fall on the bed, and stare at the ceiling, something inside of me
feels different. Something is dying or
being reborn, I'm not sure which. But
as I lie here, I can literally feel the blood in my veins flow more freely, the
strain on my shoulders which has been there as long as I can remember, has
faded away. My body tingles and feels
light. I never want this feeling to
end.
The
phone rings. I look over at the clock;
the red digital numbers read 9:34. "MARK!" I sit up. It must be my father.
I
walk out into the hallway; "I don't want to talk to him."
"Roger?" She looks at me confused.
"That's
Roger on the phone?" She nods and hands
me the cordless. I take the phone and
go back into the guestroom and close the door.
"Roger?"
"Hey,
Mark, how's it going there?"
"Great, well, not completely…"
"Yeah… uh… Mimi and I broke up
today."
"What?
Why?"
"Long
story, I'll fill you in later."
"Ok…
where are you?"
"Uh…
I'm in Scarsdale."
"What?"
"I
took a bus here. I didn't know where
else to go. Will you come get me?"
I
take a deep breath, Roger in Scarsdale… this isn't going to be pretty.
"Yeah, of course, I'll be right there."
