Untitled, Part Two,Conclusion
Oct 26 '02
The Bottom Line There's a bizarre twist at the end that greatly amused me at time of writing, but might tick you off. What do you think?
The edge of the parking lot. He noticed an unkempt path cutting through the trees, and followed that track. To God knew where......
Once he penetrated this woodland in miniature, the child’s heart raced faster, no doubt due to the darkness of the area. He was young enough to question the truthfulness of the darkness -- to doubt the trustworthiness of an absence of light.
He pedaled faster, unaware of the raggedness of the path. Suddenly, he felt a jolt, giving pressure to his front. His front tire impacted with an overexposed, thickened root.
He attempted steering his tricycle to the right, but he ended up falling over on his side.
He fell to the ground, rather gently, but the abruptness of this experience was enough to tear him away from his relative serenity. The kid began to cry. His sobs were quiet, hesitant
“Hello?”, came a loud voice.
The kid heard the sound. He knew that this couldn’t have been his mother.
He stood to face the voice, whatever it was, wherever it came from, whomever created it......
The voice came from the entrance to this wooden strip. And the voice was created by the woman from before. She was accompanied by a far more tasteful dresser, apparently an employee of the motel.
“Come over here...”, he said pleasantly.
The two muttered to themselves, possibly about where this kid had come from.
The child still sobbed quietly from his most recent trauma, and was too focused upon this to consider anything else. He didn’t approach the strangers, but he didn’t attempt escape when the two approached him.
“We’re going to have to find a home for this little fella.”, the woman said.
“We’ll have to call the police... God only knows where his parents are.”, said the man.
Pauline entered her house. She heard the noise of the television, but she did not hear the thumping of Aaron running across the house to greet her.
Perhaps he was taking a nap.
She walked into the living room. Jeff was sitting on the couch, eating, as was his wont. This occasion involved the ingestion of a number of desserts.
“Jeff, where’s Aaron?”
“Um... “, his mouth full. “.. outside on his tricycle.”
“Well, i don’t see him, and I certainly don’t see you out there supervising him.”
“Sorry?”, he groaned, contemptuously. “I was watching CNN. They pulled over these three A-rabs -- they’ve got the bomb squad searching their car and everything.....”
“Quite compelling.”, she frowned. “Meanwhile, nobody has bothered to pull over my helpless three-year-old.”
“Oh, he can’t be far away!”, he smirked.
“Jesus Christ!”, she cried. “It’s Aaron, He could be abducted! There’s a lot of sick people out there!”
“Here? In PEI?”, he scoffed, walking past her. “He’s probably hiding somewhere, in the shed or something....”
He walks outside, with Pauline behind her.
Jeff looked around. He looked across the street to the credit union parking lot. He looked to the right, he looked to the left.
“Sh-t....”, he said with resignation. “I figured he’d just be goofing around in the parking lot......”
Pauline recalled that damn number 13 that sneaked onto her lottery ticket, and into her life.
“Aaron!”, Pauline called out repeatedly, hopelessly.
“He’s not here...”, Jeff moaned, returning inside. “Where do you suppose he is?”
“How would I know!”, she cried, tears overlaying her eyes.
“Well.....”, Jeff replied, opening to fridge for another snack. “When we find him..... I’m going to phone the labor board next week. I swear to God that you shouldn’t have to work all the hours that you do! You have a kid for Christ’s sake, don’ t those guys at the store understand anything? How are you supposed to raise your child!?”, Jeff said with his phony whiff of indignation.
“Ah, and what do you have, paralysis?”, Pauline asked. “Were you unable to straighten your body out from a crouching position, so you could start walking toward the outside door. Do you also suffer from blindness as well......?”
“Look, I just sat here to watch this news report, okay? It’s very important to keep up with these things... these are dangerous times.....”
“..... in the United States of America!!!! Geez, we’re in Charlottetown, in a quiet street, the only thing you need to keep up with the status of our son!”
“Hey!”, he began before stammering, searching for another excuse. “You know what I have! Irritable bowel syndrome... sometimes it is too much for me to even get up off the couch.”
“Yes, I understand.... you are always irritable. You have frequently been a pain within my bowels. And you have a syndrome, it’s called laziness!”
“Shut up, Pauline!”, his face trembling.
“No, I won’t shut up. I could just leave you, and try to find Aaron myself, and if I find him... I’ll never come back!”
“Fine!”, he yelled, before stumbling back to the living room, to continue watching the stunning live coverage of parked vehicles.
Pauline couldn’t muster the effort to express anything else. She paced along the room.
“Jesus, couldn’t you call the cops?”, she yelled.
“Go phone the cops.”, he muttered.
G-ddamn it! she thought. I bet...... she thought to herself, before realizing she ought to scream it out. “I bet that you’d be happy if Aaron never came back!”
A barely audible groan floated from the living room.
Pauline picked up the phone, to dial the police station............
The child was at the police station. He was sitting in an office, next to a desk of one of the officers. The desk contained all sorts of seemingly important material. Papers, folders, paper clips, staples. The child also noticed more ordinary items. Coffee cups, sandwich wrappers, magazines that didn’t contain anything police-oriented.
An officer entered the room. He crouched down to the child’s eye level.
“Well, your mommy’s coming down. Don’t you like that?”
The child shook his head, as if disagreeing.
“What?”, he smiled. “You don’t want to see your mommy?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, you funny little boy!”, he smiled, tousling up the child’s hair. “I’ll check again, and see if she’s outside.”
The cop left the room, leaving the child to his own devices.
The child looked about the room. He wondered if there was anything worth getting his hands on. He spun about in his chair, awkwardly. It wasn’t as exhilarating as his tricycle, but it would do until he could leave the building.
He noticed how all of the solid objects were blurred as he spun faster and faster on his chair. Everything looked strange. Why was that?
He giggled, shouting “weeeee!!!” as he spun about. He wasn’t thinking about his mother at the moment. He hadn’t expected his mother to find him here. He’d have to find something else to occupy him in the meantime............
Pauline was waiting up at the front desk. She noticed an officer approaching.
“Hey, you must be the woman who called.”, the officer said, noticing the stress upon the woman’s face.
“Yes, that’s me.”, she grinned, attempting to break her despair.
“Well, come along, your son’s waiting for you at my office.”
Pauline smiled, and followed the officer.
“So... “, the cop said, “Rough day, wasn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe what happened; Jeff was supposed to keep his eye on him....”
She threw her hands up in a resigned gesture. The cop looked at her with a grimace.
“I don’t know what to do with that guy.....”, she continued. “He’s Aaron’s father, for God’s sake!” She scoffs. “The guy can’t even pay attention to his job ... when he has one....”
The two entered another room. “Well, here he is....”, the cop said, motioning to the child.
Pauline looked at him, her eyes squinting....
“This..... this isn’t... he’s not my child....”, Pauline uttered in quiet shock.
The officer looked back and forth, in confusion. “Wha......?”, he stalled. “This... this is your son, isn’t it?”
Pauline knew, instinctively, that the silent, moping child was not hers, but....... how could it not be? Her sense of reality was thrown off. Maybe this really was Aaron. Maybe she was so neglectful of her child that she didn’t even know what he looked like anymore. She was almost as bad as Jeff.
She continued staring at this child, who, in turn, looked back to her, appearing confused.
“I’m looking for Aaron! This isn’t him! Don’t tell me we’ve got two missing children here!! “ Pauline’s voice crept closer to hysteria. “Where’s my son??!”
Pauline’s bowels trembled, as her body experienced the fear of the unknown. She imagined this child’s face, beside that of her own child, tacked on a corner store window, twenty years from now, faded and long forgotten. Nobody would or could recall any important data, or give out any crucial information.
She began to consider those jokes about the poster at the magazine shop as particularly obscene, almost as if those wisecracks came back to haunt her in a horrible fashion........
“I... I don’t understand.”, the officer muttered, helplessly. “The pieces fit together. He was found near where you live. He was riding a tricycle... and you said that he was possibly riding one. And you said he was three ... and so is this child.”
“I know, I know!”, Pauline shrieked. “But this isn’t him!!!”
.........the mystery seemed easy to solve, but suddenly grew to more horrific proportions......
Pauline entered into her empty parking space. Nothing had changed, yet nothing was what she wanted it to be.
All that she saw, her house, the neighborhood, even the elements of nature, appeared skewed. All was in its proper place, but then, it wasn’t. The issue wasn’t anything psychical. Rather, it was psychological. The feeling of something bloodcurdling was evident, but it could not be described in words that she was aware of. The feeling, in any case, secretly covered a seemingly calm exterior, then slowly, and thoroughly, poisoned it, until everything, even the most peaceful, the most innocuous, the most bland, took on a sickening dread.
She staggered as she exited her vehicle. Her emotions overtook her to the extent that her body movements were impeded. Her eyes were unable to focus. She was unable to walk with precision. Inanimate objects -- the bright leaves of the trees, the rot of the siding upon the shed -- blurred with the dreadful ideas inside of her head. Nothing -- nothing -- looked the same......
Was it fate, or stupid luck, that told her to look inside that shed?
Inside, leaning against the wall on the right, was the tricycle. Obviously, Jeff paid even less attention than he claimed. He told her that Aaron was riding the tricycle -- but it never even left the shed.
Bastard.
Pauline’s blood began to boil, as tears welled up in her eyes. Jeff was always humiliating her in this fashion. Always acting above everyone else, even as everyone else considered him an arrogant, slothful oaf... even saying so right to his face. He sat about, complaining about everything that irked him in any degree, wearing her emotions down until she felt numb anytime she was within his presence. Even worse was when he attempted to tell her what to do. It seemed as if she had to bend and twist her very existence into shapes that would please him rather than herself, or even, at the very least, the two of them equally.
She opened the front door loudly, letting it slam against the cupboard. She pried her sneakers off from her feet. She could no longer think rationally. She was going to say every thing that she wanted to say to Jeff, even if the final result was chaotic, nonsensical. Nancy would get a good earful on Monday morning, when Pauline tells her how she killed her stupid boyfriend.......
“Mommy!”, came a giggle of a voice.
She thought she was hallucinating. She saw a child, that looked like Aaron, her son, running happily towards her.
“Aaron??”, she yelped. “Oh my god!”, as she embraced him. “Where have you been?”
“Hey, you’ll never guess what happened!”, Jeff smirked. “Aaron was a few houses down all along. He wandered off, until he decided to stop and visit someone. I guess he wanted to take a walk and visit the neighbors like the grown-ups do.”
Pauline looked up at Jeff, a sly grin on her face.
“Oh, Jeff, what a guy you are......”
She looked to Aaron.
“Aaron, that was a very bad thing you did.... walking of without telling your father. You could’ve gotten hurt. Don’t you realize that your father was very worried about you?”
Jeff stuck his head into the fridge again.
“I should give you a kick in the behind.”, Pauline lectured to her son. “.... but I can’t. At least you’re home... safely.”
Aaron received a hug from her mother, again.
Jeff approached them, holding a chocolate bar. “Hey, I knew that everything would turn out all right. Why do you think I acted the way I did?”
“Sure, you must be psychic!”, Pauline smirked. “Just act all easy-going, even in the face of certain tragedy. You’re quite a strong fellow.”
“Why else would you stay with me.”, he chuckled.
Pauline looked back to him, and merely smiled, mutely.
Pauline reclined lazily across the couch, wearing sweat pants with holes in the knees, and a tattered old t-shirt. It was 11:30 pm. She was waiting patiently for the winning lotto numbers, a ritual that she committed herself to every weekend.
She was all alone in performing this ritual, however. Typically, Jeff had wanted to go off on the town, with his friends. Naturally, Pauline was stuck being the baby-sitter......
As she watching the flickering of the television, her mind rewinded the events of the day...........
The child. How did he end up at the police station? He was found near the motel, only a few hundred feet away from where she lived.
She wondered how this child could’ve found himself where he was? Was he just being overly curious, as Aaron apparently was? Did this child just hop on his tricycle, and embark on an unguided tour of Charlottetown? Was it merely as simple as that? If so, the mother no doubt would soon become aware of what was going on, and would be down at the station now, alternately pleased at his safe return, and angry at him for leaving her sight.
Or perhaps it was something worse....... his mother, or father, perhaps, no longer found any use for him. Either they were cruel people -- in which they were selfish parents who didn’t want to deal with the time-consuming responsibilities of child-rearing --- or they were so impoverished and desperate that they left their kid to the elements in hopes that someone more emotionally and financially secure would feel sorrowful enough to take custody of him. Either one of those scenarios would have worked... but which one was it?
But she wasn’t going to do anything to find out the status of this nameless child. Pauline wasn’t the sort to pull over on the side of the road to stick her nose into a strange situation. She would rather drive away, make a few comments, paying lip service to her moral outrage, then continue toward her destination.
She was more concerned about her own experience. She couldn’t believe Jeff’s absent-mindedness. Well, actually, she could probably believe it.........
He acted as if he were in control, as if he was responsible.....
.........there’s so much I have to do, boss, that’s why I can’t show up for work until a half hour late.........
...... when in reality, he was immature. He couldn’t keep a job, because he never understood the concept of showing up on time, the concept of working for your boss, and following his rules, not yours.
Because he didn’t have a job, he was home a lot. So it would seem natural that he’d have the time, and patience, to watch his own son.
.......... Pauline (he’d say with a smirk), stay home once in a while, I think he would be better taken care of with a woman in the house.........
...... she took all of this nowadays more as a running gag, than something requiring serious concern.
Yes, she had issues with her boyfriend. But didn’t everybody have issues with their partners? It was nothing new to hear of couples fighting and breaking up over what seemed, to outsiders, to be frivolous issues and concepts. At least she and Jeff were still together.......
............why do you have to go to college? You have a son to take care of. I can’t do it all myself, you know! ..........
............get a job where you don’t have to work so much, something that’s close by, something where you don’t have to bring your home work with you. I can’t cook supper, look after the kid, and watch Judge Judy all at the same time now! hahaha......
......... hey don’t worry about the money problems. You have parents, I have parents. Go and ask them for some cash. If they don’t give it to you... well, just sneak your hand in your mom’s purse and take out the Visa. She can afford it........
......... stop your b-tching. I can’t stand it when you yell and scream and let out the waterworks. You look so pathetic! Your face gets all bloated and red, it’s ugly........
She certainly didn’t want to be alone. They had a child together. They had a house together. They had a life together, as imperfect as it was. She couldn’t deal with the idea of someone not needing her for whatever reason, not expecting things of her, or even not expecting her to just be around, to be someone else’s company. Before she had her child with Jeff, she lived with her parents, and even when she traveled to the States for a year, she was with family. She never had a concept of self-reliance, of independence, of aloneness ...........
...... the television announced the winning numbers.
“Tonight’s winning numbers --- 20, 4, 58, 3, 13, 16, and the bonus number.... 7”
She looked at the ticket that rested upon the coffee table. 20, 4, 58, 3, 13....... she won. She won.... ten dollars. She never won anything more worthy than a free ticket from any lottery. She was giddy from this experience. All dark thoughts of the day that was, all grim truths about her own life, evaporated from her mind, as she swam in the ocean of negligible victories.....
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DavidMac
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Member: David Macdonald
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About Me:
Alice, a story in nine parts, posted on Sept 24, 2008 - http://www.epinions.com/content_5241348228
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