Chapter 02c: Payment in Kind
"Cain, you need to look after your sister."
That is what dad told me when I met Setsuka for the first time a few hours after she was born.
Or so he tells me he told me; I honestly don't remember. When you aren't even two years old, memories aren't really a thing yet.
But he repeated those words often enough. It became a bit of a thing.
"You can skip classes, you can lie and you can steal; I don't care as long as you take good care of your sister."
That's what he said once when he was a few bottles in during a poker game with his friends. Sometimes I wonder if he's more proud of her than he is of me, his oldest son!
But none of the things he says are things he meant, save for the bits about Setsuka. He'd hit me with a paddle for every minute of class that I'd miss. He has made me eat a spicy pepper the last time he caught me in a lie. Thus far, I haven't tried taking anything that wasn't mine, and I honestly have no intention of doing so either.
I fear what he would come up with.
But he won't have to worry I will mistreat Setsuka.
No, it has been shifting. He's worrying I treat her too well.
That's the gist of this lecture, right?
I tune into the world around me just a bit as dad is yelling at me again. Ah, yes. I shouldn't be picking her up at school anymore. The road is too busy and too dangerous. On and on goes the rant. It was a bad time to tune back in.
"How many times are you going to give me a heart attack? She wasn't at school anymore. Are you trying to hurt your little sister with your irresponsible shenanigans?!"
The rant continues. I stay silent. My brown eyes meet his. He is frustrated because I don't come up with excuses.
Excuses are met with slaps. After all, a real man does not make excuses. Then again, a real man does not get slapped either. It is an interesting conundrum I can only ponder because of my past experiences that recommend utter silence.
Eventually the moment comes. I get to 'bugger off' whilst he struggles to find a different way to vent his frustration at being a bad parent.
I want to look for her, but she is in dads study. Homework. I definitely can't go there right now.
He used to let her do her homework in the living room, but that became inconvenient once he decided I needed straightening out. She doesn't need to see it.
Then she used to do her homework in her own bedroom, but it turns out you don't leave that girl around all her toys and other distractions.
Ah, I'll go visit mom. She's probably in bed again. I climb the stairs, my feet as light as a falling feather, making sure he doesn't overhear. He's worked up enough as it is.
Right now Setsuka ought to be sitting at his desk in his study. Doodling. Probably some flowers. Pink flowers. She is fond of that color.
I wonder if she has doodled on his desk and books. His encyclopedia, perhaps? It has bunnies in it.
She probably has. But there won't be any punishment.
Sure, he'll yell a bit. But Setsuka is Setsuka. A holy existence in the Heel household.
I knock lightly as I arrive at the closed door. There is no response, so I slip into the room.
There lies mother. Her smile is calm and gentle as always, her eyes inquisitive and filled with touches of melancholy and concern.
Once, she was a homes-visiting nurse with extra-ordinary bearing... yet now she is a patient with the patience of a saint.
"Did you go to pick her up again?"
She inquires this of me with her hoarse voice.
I nod. My chin is lifted up, my eyes peering into hers with a force that is in direct opposition to the lack of bravery in my heart.
Her gaze is a gaze I fear.
It is strange that I do, for it is so soft and gentle. She had blue eyes once, but they appear grey nowadays. I barely remember their splendor. Sometimes shining, sometimes murky, but undeniably grey.
Mother is a gem that has lost its luster. And it hurts.
"I am glad you went. I know your father does not agree, but you know how he gets. Don't blame him; he is a good man despite his flaws."
Her smile is radiant. How can it be so radiant when her eyes lack that light completely today?
"I know. How was your day?"
I inquire this of her, my hand balling into a fist. Will she even tell me the truth? Would I believe her if she didn't?
"Wonderful. I heard the angels today. They are waiting for me."
The cheer in her voice cuts me like a knife.
I do not wish to lose her. This soft and gentle existence that gave birth to me and her.
"Please, don't joke like that, mother."
My voice sounds forced, even to me. I can feel some of the anger pulsing in my veins - I take more after the old bear than I'd like.
"Haha. I am sorry to worry you, dear. But they truly told me Saint Peter is looking forward to meeting me."
Her laugh is innocent. Like hers. Fleeting, yet this one undeniably contains a heart of suffering.
We talk a bit more. I help her out with the things she cannot do anymore. Showering is near impossible now, so I help her with a sponge bath instead.
Father has probably barely noticed the extent, but I can tell her grip struggles nowadays; her formerly firm hand now struggles to handle the buttons of her nightgown as she puts it back on.
Eventually, it is time for me to leave the room. I wish her well as I always do, promise to come by later and all the rest. They aren't empty promises, although Setsuka sometimes makes the night fly by with the promises following suit.
Talking of Setsuka, I happen to bump into her as I leave the room. She's going to show her doodles to Mother. I make sure to raise my voice a bit as I look over it and praise everything I can about the picture.
"Such pretty pink flowers. And is that our house? With mom and dad, and me and you? And Rufus? You are really improving!"
My voice sounds a bit hollow to me, but she doesn't notice. She smiles radiantly. Her eyes twinkle. She resembles the unencumbered mother I remember so much. Nearly without my realizing, she soothes the waves of the rage that brews inside of me.
I can't resist ruffling that hair of hers, but it instantly earns me her ire. She isn't really mad - her eyebrow isn't twitching - but I had clearly forgotten to pay mind to that sensitive scalp of hers.
With the apologies done, I depart down the stairs as she goes to show her drawing to mother. As the door is pushed closed by Setsu, I can hear mother's voice praising the flowers. And Rufus. And the way she drew the house.
Setsuka is the only one in the house who doesn't know.
Those sparkling lights are not the only thing to have disappeared from mother's eyes.
Mother's eyes have lost their light three months ago.