Chapter 12: Hell Is Other People

Azusa, California: Thursday Breakfast

The atmosphere in the breakfast nook was neither as hostile nor as awkward as it was the day before. I regretted having to shatter it. Still, I waited until everyone was done with their food before I spoke up.

"Patty, your apple pancakes get more delicious every time I eat them."

"I'm sure it's just because you go so long without eating them," she demurred.

"Nonsense, Patricia," Antonio said. "I eat them every Sunday, and Eric is right - their quality is increasing."

"I need to talk to you, nonno."

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, nonno. It's just family stuff."

Patricia started removing her apron. "Come on, Randi. Let's find something else to do."

I put my hand up. "No, stay. Jordan let Randi in on some of it last night, and it involves both of you."

"What is it?"

And then I opened my mouth and the words just fell out. I began telling my story. The entire thing, starting with the dream that eventually enslaved Marissa, and didn't end until I'd found my mother's diary. There were parts I'd mentioned that even Jordan hadn't heard before. I was glad Patricia didn't react as badly as Cori had - I supposed her conniption muscles were still exhausted from finding me in bed with my sister and her daughter.

Everyone took me seriously; even Patty, our resident skeptic, was willing to humor me. At least, until I proved to her that what I was saying was real. It wasn't pretty.

"So, wait a minute," she said, as the clock struck ten. "You're telling me that Tony and Randi are both your property." I opened my mouth to defend myself. "Oh, shush, Eric. That's how you've described it."

I grumbled. "It's more nuanced than that."

"Whatever." She snorted. "And you're telling me that I'm someone else's property?"

"Uh, more or less."

"Isn't that convenient? The only person at the table who's seriously questioning you, and it turns out that I belong to someone else."

"It hasn't been all that convenient so far."

"Then why don't you just make me your property? Take me away from my 'owner'? You did it with your sister, and the stripper, and the waitress. Right?"

I flashed back to Tess begging me to stop, and the misery I'd put her through. "It's not that easy."

"Of course not. Eric, just put up or shut up."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Mom, please, think about what you're asking."

"I have, Randi." Patty looked at me. "Well?"

"Are you sure?"

"Stop being so melodramatic."

"Okay," I took a deep breath. "You asked for it."

If I wanted any evidence that the brand on Patty was old, I'd found it. Its edges were tattered from disuse. That made it simple for me to find traction; I could more easily manipulate it than the fresh marks Demetrius had been leaving.

Recalling Vaughan's advice to not tamper with anyone else's chattel, I dove in - trying to pry away the dim blue brand. My bright silver easily flooded the holes and the edges, and I began to overtake the rest of it. Then it began to burn a bright blue, and I heard Patty screaming, even as I felt her anguish constrict around my heart. This had gone on long enough; I stopped.

"Okay," Patty said, breathless, sitting drenched with sweat in her chair. "I believe you now." Everyone else at the table was looking horrified, white as a sheet. She took a sip from the glass of juice in front of her, her hand shaking. "Am I yours now?"

"Not quite. You're kind of in between." I saw the blue of her former brand, and the silver of my brand, swirling together in her eyes. "I stopped when you started screaming. I'm sorry about the pain."

"I could have taken it."

"I'm sure you could have. But I couldn't."

"Next time, Patty," my sister said, "just let him fuck you."

"Yeah, mom."

She chuckled, weakly. "Maybe I will."

Then I heard the clock chime eleven. It had taken almost an hour.

"It's eleven already? We've got to get going," I said, looking at Jordan.

"Why? It's not that long of a drive."

"We need to make a detour to Venice Beach."

"Why?"

"I want to go see Steve. He might be able to answer a few questions I have after reading Mom's journal."

"What sort of questions?"

"Just some loose ends, nonno. Do you still have his address?"

"I think so." He vanished into the rest of the house.

"Can I come, Uncle Eric?"

"What about your classes?"

"I can afford to miss my day class, and I'm sure you'll get me home by the time my night class begins."

I turned to Patty. "Patty, what do you think? It'll give you more alone time with Antonio."

She flushed. "That was supposed to be a secret! Did Tony tell you?"

"It's pretty obvious," Randi said. "I've known for a while now, Mom."

"Really?!" Jordan squeed.

"I told you, Patricia. Miranda has a sharp mind; she would not be easily fooled by our subterfuge," Antonio said, walking back into the room. He handed me a piece of paper. "I found the address."

"You two make a cute couple," Jordan continued, "How long have you two been together?"

"Since Randi's graduation, so a little over a month now?"

"I'm so happy for you!"

"Well, Mom? Can I go?"

"It's not my decision to make. You're an adult now, Randi. It's up to Eric and Jordan."

"Sure, we'd love it if Randi came along!"

I gave Jordan a dirty look.

"Yay! Let me get changed!"

Randi's idea of 'changed' was a scandalously small yellow bikini, covered with tiny polka dots.

"Randi! You're really going to go out in the open wearing that? Aren't you afraid somebody will see?"

"You like, Uncle Eric?" She twirled around in display. "I bought it a year ago, but I never really could get up the nerve to put it on. So I'm wearing it for the first time, today!"

"You realize we might not actually go to the beach, right?"

"At least I'll be prepared." She shrugged, which made the bikini top do some fascinating things. "Let me grab a towel."

Venice Beach, California: Thursday Afternoon

At least once a week, my mother would experience what she called a presagio. A premonition, more or less; she let them guide her. She never talked about them with anyone, but she told her journal. Every entry was about one or more of these presagi. It was because of one of these from her childhood that she 'knew' she would marry a lawyer, and that she 'knew' she would become a doctor. And so, when she met Steve, and had a presagio that she would bear him a son, she naturally assumed he was destined to be her husband.

I wasn't kidding earlier when I said she heard wedding bells when she met Dad - that's how the presagio presented itself to her. She was confused for a time. She could not understand how she could bear one man a son, and marry another. It simply wasn't in her nature.

For the first few months Mom dated Dad, Steve would consistently try to get in her pants. It was always subtle, things Mom noticed but went right over Dad's head. Then Steve stopped trying, and went back to his old hedonistic ways, still maintaining a friendship with the couple. Mom asked him why the sudden change, and he answered, "He makes you happy; more happy than I ever could. I hated fighting with you, but now we're not fighting anymore; because there's no passion between us. I love you, I adore your company. If I have to find passion elsewhere to get the rest of the package, I can content myself with that. I have to, right?" He must have made an impression, because she wrote those words in English.

Then around the time of their graduation, she had another presagio - she would conceive her first child on her wedding night. She was so excited! She wanted to get married as quickly as possible, which to her meant eloping. Unfortunately, given their busy schedules, they were unable to find any time before Labor Day weekend. Steve volunteered to drive them up to Vegas. It was on that drive that she had another presagio: the first child she bore to her husband would also kill her.

Mom was scared of dying, so on her wedding night, she got Dad so drunk he passed out, and then visited Steve's hotel room. Nine months later, I was born. After that, she picked up her very first packed of birth control pills.

We pulled up to Steve's house a little before 1. I'd spent the entire drive rebuffing questions from the girls; they wouldn't let me sleep. You have no idea how tempted I was to just reach out and flip the switch on their voiceboxes down, so they'd shut up. But I'm sure they'd have found other ways to vex me.

Walking up the stairs to Steve's townhouse, Randi caught up to me. "Sooo, Uncle Eric, remind me why we're going to see Steve again?"

"I haven't said."

"Oh, give it up, campione. Just tell us. We're almost there! We'll find out soon enough."

"Then have some patience, piccola." I ruffled Randi's hair. "You too, bunny."

Randi dashed ahead, up the stairs - ah, the exuberance and energy of youth - and rang the doorbell. After waiting a few moments, she started knocking.

"I said patience, bunny!"

"Patience is overrated," the girls said in stereo.

Before I could even get to the landing, I could see another silvery brand - one of mine - moving inside the house. I wondered who it was - the mystery was solved when the door to the house flew open. Though that just left a few more questions.

"Randi?! How did you find me here?"

"Frankie!" She tossed her arms around him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I thought you were in Cheyenne?"

Her brother looked sheepish. "No, that's just where I keep a P.O. Box. Don't tell Mom."

"So, what are you doing here?"

Steve walked up to the doorway. "I'm renting my guest room to him. Very fairly, given the location." He gave Randi a leer. "And who are you, gorgeous?"

"Hands off, Steve. She's my sister."

"So, you're staying in his extra room?"

"Yeah," Frank said. "Besides, Most of his guests just stay in his bed."

"That sounds like the Steve I know." I'd finally crested the slope.

"Eric! My boy!" I saw his face brighten. Then it darkened. "It's like seeing a ghost," he continued, looking at Jordan. "You must be Alice's daughter. It's uncanny." His breath caught. "You're as beautiful as your mother."

Jordan blushed. "Um, I guess?"

"The resemblance is remarkable," he muttered, almost to himself. Then, he snapped back to attention. "Come in, everyone, come in!"

Soon we were arrayed on the giant bean bags that dominated his living room. Jordan and I were sharing one; Frank and Randi another. Of course, Steve had this large circular wooden monstrosity lined with pillows. It was big enough for two, though Steve sprawled across it as though it just had room for him. Compared to the bean bags, it was like a throne. I mentioned as much.

Frank laughed. "He never lets anyone sit in it."

"Yes I do!"

"Oh, please. Having your sleepover guests sit on your lap is not the same thing."

"I didn't hear any complaints before you showed up."

That had the two of them laughing; like it was an old joke, or an old argument.

Steve whirled around, looking at me. "What brings you to my home?"

"Something I read in Mom's diary about her wedding night." I saw his eyes widen in anticipation. "Are you my father?"

I could feel Jordan's gasp beside me, but it seemed I took the entire room by surprise. Except Steve. He just sighed.

"Alice told me you'd find out one day. I used to go over and over what I'd say to you when you confronted me. I could never figure anything out. What can I say?" His eyes seemed to be pleading with me, but I didn't know how to salve an old man's wounds. Nor did I care.

"You could apologize."

He sputtered. "Apologize for what?"

"Not for Mom's wedding night - that was a necessary evil." He looked confused. "You left us, Uncle Steve. As soon as Mom died you were on the next plane to Bangkok. We needed you. Dad really could have used a friend, and you were his best friend. Or so he thought. What was so important that it kept you away for twenty years?" Jordan had to pull me back on the bean bag.

"Harsh, dude," Frank said.

Steve looked really small in his giant chair after that.

"You're right. I fucked it all up. I could have been there. I wanted to come back, but I was too scared. I let stupid pride and fear keep me from being the person I should have been. I'm sorry, Eric." He turned to Jordan. "And I'm sorry to you, too, Helena."

We sat in silence for a while.

"Does Vince know?"

"No. Only the people in this room know. And I'm not going to tell him. None of us are, right?" I looked at Randi and Jordan, who both quickly nodded.

"Thank you, Eric."

"I'm not doing it for you, Steve."

"We're not going to go to the beach, are we?"

"Don't think so, bunny."

"She was an amazing woman, your mother. She was probably the only woman in the world who could have convinced me to try monogamy. I still don't know how she did it."

Frank chuckled. "You definitely don't live that way now."

"I'm pretty sure it's a dysfunctional way to live. Monotony, I mean. Who was the idiot that had that momentary lapse of reason? I suppose it's the last resort of the lonely, chaining down one person." He shook his head. "Benjamin Franklin said it best: 'They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.' Why do you think the adultery rate is so high? Don't let yourself get led into that funeral pyre, son. Don't fall down that hole."

I looked at Jordan and Randi, and thought about my harem, and chuckled. "I don't think that's likely."

"Don't misunderstand me, I never cheated on Alice. She was right about so many things, but that was one thing she always got wrong. That one time in Vegas was the only time I've willingly been with a taken woman. I don't respect the decision, but I've always respected the boundaries. You get me?"

"It's true," Frank said. "I've seen him kick a girl out of bed when he found out she had a boyfriend."

"You know? When we were dating, Alice always said she thought I should travel the world. We made plans that she would come with me. Even after she was with your Dad, she'd ask me when I was going - I'd always say 'One day' and she'd look a little disappointed. When she died, I had to make it up to her. She'd always wanted to visit Bangkok..."