Thursday, September 24, 2015

They Were Dolphins, Chapter 2 part III

He continued the slow, roundabout way home via the dump. He ventured off the sidewalk to the fence, observing the piles of debris. There was a pile of concrete and twisted metal in one section that looked like it might have been the foundation of a house. The boy could see that if the walls were raised around the foundation in a house-shaped pool and filled with ocean water, then it could make a quite comfortable home for a family of dolphins. He pictured a dolphin home, filled to the attic with water and windows and doors just like its human counterpart, but filled with water and swimming dolphins.

Furniture would be a problem in the water, but that would be okay because dolphins can’t really sit and they don’t need things like appliances or tables.

The boy realised walked on a bit, hesitating the whole way as he approached the hill. He realised why he had been so apprehensive when he reached the site where the dog had been run over. He was greatly relieved to see the dog was missing. Clearly, this meant that the dog had merely been injured, not killed, and had walked off gaily after recovering from his bruising encounter.

Walking a bit more sprightly after such a relief, he headed up the hill where the sidewalk stopped and turned into grass. The sight of the grass reminded him of something with a pang, but he couldn’t remember what memory was being triggered. Further along, when he drew nearly up to the trivium, he thought of the egg that he had found earlier in the morning. A boiled egg could be distinguished from a raw egg by spinning the egg on a flat surface, then quickly stopping the egg. If the egg stops completely, it is boiled or cooked inside, but if it starts spinning again then it is raw. The boy did not actually know this, but if he had, he would have wished that he had tested the egg he found to find out if it really had been a bird’s egg left behind without a nest.

Thinking of the egg reminded the boy of Robert’s incantations and throwing the egg into the forest. That was when the pangs from earlier struck with a nearly audible output from the boy. He suddenly remembered the knives that had been prepared in defence of his brother the vampire.

It was too far and too late to turn back. He would have to face the night vulnerable to a vampire attack. There were few worse things than the idea of a vampire attack. The boy was frozen in fear and indetermination when he spotted the hedge where he had stashed his sweater. He also realised that he would have to explain how he had come into possession of his brand new leather jacket with epaulettes. His mother would certainly think the boy had stolen them.

He concluded that he could easily swap his new leather jacket for the purple sweater and thus appear as if he had worn the sweater all day. He would also hide the fact that he had gotten a new jacket and wouldn’t have it taken away from him.

Swapping the ugly sweater and stowing away his precious jacket, he grew apprehensive again about going home. He spotted the house that was Robert’s neighbour (whose hedge he was borrowing to hid clothing) and walked up the door as if he lived there. He opened the door suavely, although a discerning psychologist might notice a fear and  hesitancy barely covered by nonchalance.

The boy could hear a television blaring in the living room and as bravely as possible, though he swallowed hard and fought to breathe slowly, moved toward the television. He breathed a bit easier when no one was around and he found the puffy reclining seat empty. He plopped comfortably into the seat and watched a show involving a spinning wheel filled with money amounting to fortunes. One needed to guess letters to form words or phrases in order to win fabulous prizes.

LAND OF OZ
INFLATABLE SLIDE

These strange words were baffling and the boy couldn’t understand why the everyone was so cheerful happy, and downright excited. Even the music was bright and cheerful. He got up from the chair in disgust and left the house.

Closer to home, he saw a reminiscent car parked in front of the driveway but was unable to place it. Something about the car and the way it was parked, facing the wrong way on the street and idling. A few drops of rain started, signalling the beginning of the afternoon showers. That’s when the memory became complete, this was the woman who had stopped by the day before and dropped off the seeds.

And the seeds… had been placed somewhere. Nobody knew where. In a full panic, the boy considered his options of running away or pretending like nothing had happened. He decided on the latter. If anybody asked about “seeds”, he would just shrug and deny any knowledge. If some woman said she had given him the seeds directly, he would just say that he had never seen anybody like her before and never heard of such a thing.

Steeled thus, he forced himself up the driveway and stairs into the house. His mother and the woman were on the threadbare couch facing each other in deep conversation. The boy noticed an unwelcome presence in the hallway, walking toward the front bedroom where his mother slept.

The two women turned toward the boy as he tried to slip past the living room to the hallway. His other called out in a sing-song voice that hid a bit of menace. The boy stopped and turned slowly, careful to avert his eyes from the strange woman. He kept his head down as much as possible in order to appear as interested as possible in the hardwood floors.

He was asked what he had done with the seeds he had gotten the day before and he admitted he had no idea where the vial had gone. He had to repeat this several times to be understood. Every time he opened his mouth, very little actually came out that was audible. The look on his mothers face, when he dared look up, was twisted in rage. The strange woman left breezily, hiding something. The women hugged and air-kissed, his mother making exasperated noises and waving at the boy to indicate a “what can you do?” attitude.

The boy retreated to his room and tried to hide in his bed. A faint smell of something sweet and sour was in the air, but he couldn’t identify the smell nor where it came from. Outside, it had begun to rain gently. The boy’s brother came home. Fortunately, the boy knew his brother was harmless as long as the sun was up. He had a few hours before he needed to be afraid.

His intuition was incorrect because his mother and the unwanted presence from earlier appeared in his room. The presence was his mother’s boyfriend, a short wiry Korean with a thin black mustache.
That was when the screaming and yelling began along with the escalations of violence. The boy had neglected his duties in taking care of the precious goods in the vial. The seeds were irreplaceable as far as the adults were concerned. They would be in extreme debt to pay back the loss of the seeds, and the boy was directly responsible for this. He knew the pattern well enough to go along with everything, even though he dreaded every step.

The culmination of the argument was a decision to use the belt. The boy was secretly relieved they had not decided to use a switch. A switch was a long thin piece of flexible wood or branch that one selected from a bush outside to be whipped with. The switch often had leaves (which were removed) and thorns (which might not be). Not getting the switch was a great reprieve.

The boy dutifully pulled down his pants and made a huge effort not to cry out when the belt struck his bottom. After the first whack by the Korean, the boy actually found that it didn’t hurt nearly as much as he remembered or dreaded, and it became very easy for him to suppress crying out. Even though the blows escalated as the Korean grew in his frustrations to hurt the boy, the pain subsided.

Covered by this layer of armour that had been growing for the last several months and days, the boy decided finally to give in to the screaming and crying so that the punishment would stop. Satisfied with their corporal punishment and winded a bit, the adults left the boy in bedroom. His brother came in and wordlessly hugged the boy. The boy was grateful for this human act of kindness bestowed on a dolphin, even if it did come from an unrelated stranger who was a vampire.

The boy went to bed without supper and slept through the night, unaware of the sighing, crunching, whispering, and grinding noises of the vampire beneath him.

I hate it.
It’s not that bad. They were dolphins.
I don’t get it.
They were dolphins.

Stop it. I hate it.

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