"You agreed not to tell anyone? Why?"
"We were too scared."
"No, Mike, because we loved him."
"I meant to ask you this earlier, Michael. When did you
finally leave home?"
"After everything else, it was weird really... that
such a simple thing, a complete misunderstanding, finally
gave me the guts, the courage to get away."
"Mike graduated summa cum laude and we were so excited. We
all were, except him."
"He just shook my hand - like he was greeting someone at a
funeral - and turned into his den."
"That night, I heard Mike crying in his room. I went in
and lay beside him. When he found us in the morning, he woke
Mom and pushed her in before him, accusing us of terrible
things."
"He said it was all her fault... that her weakness was responsible. I know I said I hated her, but, that morning, I felt so sorry for her. She looked so
helpless... so old... trembling in her nightdress. If Cathy hadn't come
between us, I swear I would have killed him."
"Then he became so calm, so composed. I can still see him, smiling in
the doorway, the kind of smile that said: go ahead, do your
damnedest, but we all know who's in charge here."
"And that was the last time I saw him until I arrived
here."
"He deserved to die. I should have done it years ago."
"How did he react to Michael going away?"
"Unless someone asked, he never mentioned Mike. Then he
said that he was living in Europe. It seems impossible to
believe that everything could have been so normal, but it
was."
"How did your mother take it?"
"She took his side completely. My father's, I mean. What a terrible thing it was for any child to
threaten his own father... that it was a wonder God didn't
strike him down....
"Mike looked so sad that morning. My
heart stopped, the wall came crashing
down and I saw everything that happened the morning she died."
"'He's not coming! Do you hear me? Mike's not coming. He's
never coming home. His own mother and he won't be coming home.
All because of you. Why won't you listen? I know why. That's
it, isn't it? You know what you've done to us, and soon
everyone else will too, because I'm calling the police. Right
now. Do you hear me? I'm calling the police.'"
"But how could I? How could I? My own father."
©2006 woodlawn fiction
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