November 2003
The next day, as Schemer and Stacy were coming home from an appointment, they entered to find a pair of shoes already on his front mat. Schemer frowned, puzzled.
"Hello?" He called out.
There was no answer but some rustling coming from his master bedroom connected bedroom. He walked briskly, not bothering to remove his hat or shoes. Stacy moved to follow him but he held up one hand to keep her back.
"Hello?" He repeated once more, sounding annoyed now. He rounded the corner to the bathroom to find Schemee with his back to him.
"Schemee? Didn't you hear me calling? You scared the daylights out of us!" Schemer accused.
Schemee gave no indication that he heard anything that had been said. He tilted his hand ever so slightly and Schemer could see what he was occupied with. His stomach plummeted instantly.
"Schemee. What are you doing?" Schemer asked in a low voice.
"What is this for?" Schemee asked with an air of calmness, the eye of the storm. He was holding up a pill bottle. Three more were scattered on the counter.
"Schemee, please, put those away." Schemer asked worryingly.
"What. Is. This. For?" Schemee enunciated, drawing out each word abruptly. He turned to face his Uncle, his eyes hard and unyielding. "I saw one the last time, and looked it up after I left. This is a pretty serious medication, Uncle."
For Schemer, his world froze for what seemed like hours, when in reality it was only a few minutes. He tried desperately to search for the words, but they wouldn't come. He couldn't think of a single thing that would make this situation better.
"Stacy. Care to explain what my Uncle's latest lie is?" He asked darkly, dropping the bottle he had been inspecting onto the counter.
Stacy moved forwards, looking between them, worried. "Schemee, why don't we go sit down?" She almost was pleading.
"No. I want to know the truth right now. Right here." He almost snarled.
"Schemee... I tried to tell you earlier, when we went out... And I tried to call last night." Schemer said weakly, trailing off.
"Uncle, tell me now!" Schemee snapped. "What are these for?"
Schemer blinked and straightened up as best he could, he couldn't avoid the lie for much longer, but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud yet. "Schemee, I'm getting treatments. It's fine."
"Treatments for WHAT?" Schemee was shaking with anger. "Why are you still lying? Why?!"
Schemer looked his nephew in the eyes, and felt immense guilt. He thought he could beat it before anyone found out about it, instead he was in way over his head. He swallowed and slowly removed his hat. He didn't have his wig or fake curl on today, just a hat over his closely buzzed hair.
"Cancer. It's cancer." He said dully, the words resounding in his head like a most unwanted echo.
Schemee was breathing heavily, his eyes flicking between Schemer's head and eyes. "How long has this been going on? How long have you known?"
"Schemee, I didn't want you to worry…" He started to fallback on excuses, he knew he sounded pathetic but it wasn't any worse than he was feeling.
"I had heard from my friends that you didn't look so good, and when I asked you lied and said it was fine. Did you know then? Did you?" Schemee's eyes were beginning to redden and fill with tears.
"I never meant... I didn't want you to find out this way." Schemer's voice wavered.
"When did you want me to find out? At your funeral?!" Schemee angrily shouted, tears streaming down his face.
"Schemee, please stop!" Stacy cried, looking stricken.
"NO! No… He's been lying to me this whole time. Let me guess, you didn't want me to find out and hoped it would just go away? Or you just got so tangled in your web that you didn't know what to do?" He was pacing now. "How long have you know for? Stop bullshitting me!" He asked point blank, looking Schemer dead in the eyes.
Schemer, not even trying to deny any of the accusations, looked away. "Since summer of 2001, it got worse in early 2003. I just… didn't know when to tell you, and it all slipped away from me." He sighed heavily, the truth felt like a solid barrier between them.
The tears were gone now, replaced with only contempt and betrayal. Schemee lifted his chin. "You're so goddamn selfish." He said spitefully.
"Schemee…" Stacy tried to diffuse the situation, but he shoved past Schemer, knocking him with his shoulder in the process. Schemer let himself flatten against the wall he was leaning against, pressing his palms flat against the cool surface. Schemee left the pent house , loudly slamming the front door. Schemer let himself slide to the floor.
"Schemer?" Stacy asked carefully. He looked stricken with grief, well beyond crying. Stacy knew what this meant to him, what his nephew meant to him. Hurting him, losing his trust and respect was worse than his current health. He remained silent, staring at his hands draped over his knees.
She wordlessly started running a bath. After it had filled she lead him over to it and undressed him. He allowed her to wash his hair, and scrub his body, and he knew it was a way to help him wash away the pain. But it couldn't eliminate the emptiness that he was currently feeling. When she finished rinsing his head he tried to smile gratefully but it just revealed itself as a sad smile. "Thank you." He said quietly.
As he looked at her though, he knew she too was upset at him. He could see the same betrayal in her eyes that was in Schemee's. Unlike Schemee, whom he had indirectly lied to by keeping his secret from, he had lied to her face.
"You told him? You for sure told him?" She asked.
He smiled and kissed her. "Of course."
Karma Police - Radiohead
