Chapter 503: Grieving Goodbyes

Is it the link from me to Ellen that caused Corwin’s mom to feel the need to comfort Ellen? Is it something else? What caused Ellen to have such a strong reaction that she could block April and me from reaching her over the link?

It didn’t take long before a group of women Corwin’s mom’s age stood huddled over where Ellen was still in Corwin’s mom’s arms, crying her eyes out. I heard the surprised whispers as one of the women pried Ellen away from Corwin’s mom to pull Ellen into her arms.

Ellen still wouldn’t let me connect over the link to her, but she did allow the raw, unfiltered, nurturing love coming from the group of old, hard, cold-hearted, and sometimes brutal women as they held Ellen.

Some of them have killed their newborns because the children had some noticeable defects.

People from these elite families were in for a shock. The last mom holding Ellen stood up and walked over to a man that had to be in his eighties. I could sense the ice flowing through his veins from a long lifetime of doing their family business but never allowed to run it. The man didn’t seem to have the strength to lift a bottle of wine, but he took Ellen from the woman’s arms. Whatever he whispered to Ellen made her kiss him on the cheek and change from clutching onto him to snuggling him as if she felt at peace in his arms.

Thus began the oldest men here from the elite families waiting their turn to hold Ellen to comfort her. I went to take her from them. Ellen finally let me link to her. She told me that this was something Ellen didn’t know that she needed. Those holding her needed it much more than she did. It wasn’t something Ellen couldn’t explain, only that it had to do with what she said that made Corwin’s mom slap her.

Faith came up from behind me to take my hand.

She leaned up to whisper, “There is no translation for the ancient words Ellen spoke. Those who first said those words died before the Egyptians began building their first pyramid. A one-hundred-three-year-old woman told me all the forbidden things that are too horrendous to utter. She only had a few hours left and couldn’t die until she passed them on. These are curses that surpass all others. She explained that legends say that one of the lesser Greek gods uttered what Ellen did. All the gods who heard it exploded with such ferocity that their atoms reached the farthest ends of the universe. The one who said it became forever cursed to become that tightly compressed ball of gasses that explode to form a new universe. These forbidden phrases are only to be spoken by one as they seek release from their living death. I can’t yet determine if that removed the burden of the Angries from her or not. It is only a guess, but I suspect that many of the coldest, most ruthless, and questionably among the world’s most evil people are trying to comfort Ellen because of the burden of her knowing the words she uttered. We find that I’ve lived a long time, and doctors believe I might live for another few centuries.”

That burden I can lift off your shoulders, Ellen.

I didn’t need to know any of the forbidden phrases in Ellen’s memory. She didn’t know what they meant, only that they were the worst things you could even say. To a twelve-year-old, saying “fuck” is at the top of the forbidden words. I only needed to find the place in the areas of her memories that she kept thinking about repeatedly. It wasn’t hard to find. She learned of them the day Ava came for Ellen after killing Ellen’s father. They were what Ava screamed as Ellen carved her name into Ava’s face. I found all the forbidden phrases and some that were almost as bad. From reloading Paula’s memories back into her brain, I knew how to backtrace and flood the area with new brain cells in a way that worked much like that in infants that cause them to forget things that happened before they were two years old. By doing it carefully, she didn’t forget Ava cursing at her, just what Ava said.

I did it all within a few seconds.

Over the many tens of thousands of years that it took me to learn all languages, I had heard those phrases in many languages. The one Ellen said is equivalent to a six-year-old calling someone a poopie head versus a motherfucking, pig sucking, bastard asshole son of Satan, in church, at the top of their lungs, during a baptism.

I couldn’t control it as my brain started with what Ellen said back through written and spoken language to the origin. It was impossible to stifle the quick chuckle. I did the same for all the phrases.

I took Faith outside away from everyone.

“Baby feces breath.” “Rotting rodent intestine sucker.” “Stillborn placenta collector.” “Seasons meal with menstrual clots.”

“That is what all the forbidden phrases are, except the one Ellen said,” I told Faith. “I had to bring you out outside for the worst of the worst. I couldn’t keep myself from having to laugh, so I know you won’t be able to contain yourself.”

“Tell me already. I’m not getting any younger, you know,” Faith teased.

“Depending on the inflection, it means something similar, but slightly different things. One pronunciation accuses someone of being a gigolo. A second variant is more a formal accusation of finishing the job of loving another man’s mate after he spilled his seed and left her hanging,” I told her.

She couldn’t stop giggling. Pinching her butt finally got her to finally stop.

“The way Ellen said and the associated meaning is what made me laugh. It isn’t a curse but a form of praise. Roughly translated, it is a woman or man who goes around teaching men how to use his mouth and fingers to send his virgin bride into orgasm overload before he makes her a woman,” I told her.

Faith gave me a dirty look and said, “That sounds great, but I don’t find it funny. Mythical, maybe, but not funny.”

“By itself, it isn’t funny,” I explained. “Ellen believing it was a horrible way to curse the men that blew up Chrissy’s and her mom’s plane is funny, at least to me. Corwin’s mom subsequently slapped the shit out of Ellen for saying it was hilarious. Everyone thought it was the worst possible thing anyone could utter, but it is one of the highest praises you could give someone back when the phrase was commonplace. Ellen was speaking of praise to the people who killed Chrissy, and her mom was about as wrong of a thing she could say about them. Thus, she deserved to get slapped.”

Wait for it, David.

It took Faith a few seconds to process what I said. I watched her eyes get big right before she rushed off behind some bushes, pulled her panties from under her dress, and made she wasn’t going to get piss all over her feet and shoes before starting to laugh. April tugged on my pants leg to quietly pass me a hand towel. Faith pissed herself all over because she ended up on her butt before her laughing made her piss herself.

Ellen was back in Corwin’s mom’s arms when I got back inside. Ellen no longer knew any of the phrases. I couldn’t keep from telling them how it was correctly translated. They both needed stress relief.

I managed to find a private bathroom that had two toilets. Ellen got it over the link to get herself ready to laugh so hard she would pee. Corwin’s mom wasn’t sure if I was going to fuck her or what, but she was in the sitting and ready to pee position.

“I figured out what Ellen said and translated it back to the original language. First, it has never been a curse but is a form of ultimate praise. It means a mythical man or woman who teaches a groom how to send his bride into an orgasmic coma before he forces his dick through her cherry. Saying that about the people who killed Chrissy was wholly inappropriate, and Ellen deserved to get slapped,” I told them. “If you had said it angrily, instead of flatly, Ellen, you would have been a bit closer to cursing them. In that way, you would call them a man who slips into another man’s house to fuck the man’s wife to have sloppy seconds after her husband fell asleep once he got his.”

I then had them almost fall off the toilets once I explained that in some parts of the world, at that time, young teenage brides carved a dick from bone to sate their pregnancy needs that their husbands couldn’t. When someone would find it, they used it to fuck a woman with it from behind. They always got the woman off, so they pulled it out and then shoved it up the woman’s ass while she got off. The woman with it in her ass was old enough to know that it was ruined once it got shit on it. The teenage women who made it were far enough in their pregnancy that they chose to nap versus starting a new one. Once the baby came, if they lived through the delivery, they didn’t have the time.

I slipped out while they tried to stop laughing long enough to pee without it coming out in short spurts.

When Ellen came back into the area where people were coming to the “viewing,” she got mobbed by kids from school that kept hugging her and trying to distract her from thinking about Chrissy. I had plenty of girls from elite families offering to slip off to help me think of something else for a short time.

I’ll let you think that as I pump you full of swimmers to get you pregnant. Your inbred husband’s sperm aren’t able to get anyone pregnant, not even his sisters. No girl or woman should get beaten and raped because their husband is effectively sterile.

Those times were when I quickly slipped into the bathroom with the woman and offered to let her distract me in exchange for a chance that I might get her pregnant.

Corwin’s mom did an excellent job alternating elite families to have me translate for my parents what the people wanted to say about how sorry they were for our loss. Heads of families came to tell me they didn’t have anything to do with it, but if they found whoever did, they would hold them for me to decide those people’s fate. Mom got some hugs from some of the girls. Ellen got hugged by everyone. April only let those she wanted to hug her. When I went to look, I noticed that my brother and sister were off to the side, playing with a growing pile of new toys. Camden’s and Becky’s kids were also over there, but the littlest ones tired out quickly and napped most of the time. Nelly, Dolly, and their siblings watched the little kids with Bambi and Bart. It gave a place where the kids who knew Bart and Bambi could stay away from the adults’ scrutiny. I noticed that it appeared far enough away that guys could give Bart a bro-hug without getting any shit about it. They didn’t need to have me over to translate anything. Bambi and Bart spoke enough to do that if anything needed to be said.

Between the elite family viewing, someone dragged me over to ensure I ate all the food that might be a bit cold from being on the top of the warming trays.

I made sure to thank all the kids who came out from the foster care complex to handle serving the food, keeping drinks stocked, and cleaning up after people. Word got around to the elite families that these kids were here helping, not because they lived at the foster care complex, but because they demanded that they do this for us.

Damn Karens!

“Those poor children. What a travesty! Everyone praises him for using one of his slums to pack all these unwanted children to suck the government dry. Look how he forces them to serve food and clean up after everyone. Someone needs to call the papers and the TV stations so that they can see that he is a fraud,” one Karen was yelling in outrage.

A tall, teenage girl walked over to the woman, got in her face, and said, “Go talk out of your ass about something you know nothing about somewhere else. All the kids at all four foster care complexes are legally and officially David’s foster children. He is the best foster father any of us have ever had. Your children should be so fortunate. Each of us has our own bedroom and bathroom, all the food we want to eat, the best medical and dental care, new, clean clothes, and pretty much everything else we could ever want.”

“Cardboard boxes, a bucket, food his restaurants threw out, and unlicensed doctors in return for being his slave labor,” the Karen yelled back. “When you’ve never had anything, the little bit he gives you looks like you are living large while he pockets the foster care money.”

Not even the slightest bit phased, the girl yelled back, “What foster care money? Do you mean that the government keeps insisting they pay him for each of us?”

“Yes, the government. No wonder no one wanted you or saw that they needed to slap that smart mouth of yours,” that Karen yelled back. “My children learned what happens when they smart off.”

You had to step over that line.

“Damn, you are one stupid tarnished participation trophy wife,” the girl yelled back.

Well, that shut the woman up.

“Look it up on your phone instead of having it in your panties, giving you a thrill each time one of your bitch buddies goes off on some other tirade. Each state where he had one of the foster care complexes publishes a report listing a partial first and last name for every child in his care, the amount paid for housing, medical care, and any additional amounts for kids with special needs. Beside each is a partial account number, followed by the total paid this year and since we moved in there. That account number references the savings account he opened for each of us. Every month the government wires what they want to pay to care for us into that account. We each have someone who manages our trust account. David never sees or can touch that money. Like a proper father, David pays for everything out of his pocket,” The girl yelled back. “I don’t expect you to believe us. You made sure everyone heard you tell me how you slapped your children around. Maybe you will believe them. That is where they will live until you defend your behavior in family court.”

Practice being a fish in the mirror a lot?

A cute little girl came over, had to get up on a table to be at the right height to look at the woman, and said, “You are a nasty mean woman. David is a good foster daddy; I love being his foster daughter. We are a big family. His sister died. David cares for us as much as he does for his daughters. The people had to make us pick numbers to see who got to come to work because so many of us told them he needed us to take care of him, his parents, daughters, and all the people who came from far away that we couldn’t understand what they were saying. We are here doing what families do when people die. You are making people mad at you. It is about his sister who died, not you! Go away. NOW!”

Oh, hello, detectives. What? Do you want to have a private conversation with that bitch? Please, don’t let me stop you.

The woman thought the round of applause was for her, not the cops escorting her over to have their extended chat.

If I didn’t have lightning-fast reflexes, the girl gymnast would have slammed into me like a brick wall. She misjudged the distance when she ran to jump up so she could get her arms and legs around me before her older sister and younger brother beat her to it.

“Dog poop all over your foot,” I whispered.

“EWWW! Gross,” she complained.

I kissed her cheek as I moved my lips closer to her ear and said, “Some might say that about the big wet spot you about had from the sheer pleasure of being held by my strong arms. Oh, green tar baby diaper explosion.”

That made her fight to get out of my arms, letting me pick up her younger brother.

The gymnast went to her sister and whispered, “Be careful. He knows that we squirt and says the grossest things.”

I whispered, “Flung monkey poo in your mouth.”

That made both girls gag, but they quit having their fat, rock-hard nipples showing for all to see.

Both girls hugged me once they stopped gagging, and I could feel their instant arousal.

“Monkey poo,” I whispered to cool them off.

My implant told me neither were virgins, that they always came at least once during sex, and were very energetic lovers. All three were good students, had proper manners, and didn’t fight with each other. They kept their rooms neat, cleaned up after themselves, and rarely got in trouble.

My implant picked out two boys from the complex. They were the same ages as the two girls. Both were in superb physical shape, letting them fuck for as long as it took to get them off. The information I saw showed that each has a larger-than-average dick, and their meds make it take at least five minutes to cum, if that quickly. Girls at the complex loved finding that these boys could fuck for a long time but soon learned that wasn’t as good as it sounded at first. The guys did get laid, but it was maybe once a week versus many times a day at first.