Say Hi
“The Family is the salt of the earth and the light of the world; it is the leaven of society.”
— Pope Francis
Repeat.
Stop, please stop!
Squeak. Crack. Repeat.
Why would it stop? She didn’t deserve it to stop after what she did to her. Or better said, what she didn’t.
Squeak. Crack. Repeat.
“Sam, why did Mum die?”
Squeak. Crack. Repeat.
“She was sick, Jo, very, very sick.”
SQUEAK. CRACK. REPEAT!
I’m sure I’ll regret this too soon, but I can’t stand it anymore. I need to pull myself together. I promise, really, I promise I’ll destroy them. I’ll burn them. I’ll eat them if needed. People might otherwise think I’m crazy. I’m not crazy. I don’t think I am crazy, but I don’t think I’m okay. No, I’m not okay. It’s just too much, it’s too overwhelming, and it’s scary.
“Holy shit! This is freaking hot!” Sam’s wife, Masha, swore loudly before running to the kitchen sink. Grabbing a slightly over-baked lasagna without a dishcloth was not one of her best ideas, she realized as she poured water over her trembling fingers.
“Mat, please, the last thing I need right now is more weight around my legs,” she moaned as her five-year-old son wrapped his hands around one of her calves.
“He just wants to take your pain,” Jo, Sam’s teenage niece, said from over the kitchen table, thumbing through some music scores.
“By the way, Jo, do you know where Sam could be?” Masha asked, carefully examining her fingertips. Jo didn’t even need to shrug - Sam herself came in instead. She didn’t come alone but with a man of her age, a man nervously squeezing the straps of a thin, sad backpack on his shoulders.
“Hey, this is Ed,” Sam said as she entered the main door. “He’ll stay with us for a while. Ed, this is my wife; this is Mat, our little demon; and this is Jo, my niece, the musician of the Bitwin family. She’s having an important audition in a week, and we’re all cheering for her,” she said, introducing her household according to their position in the kitchen.
“Nice to meet you all,” Ed smiled shyly, his eyes wandering from one family member to another. Masha was about to shake his hand when she recalled her recent painful, mindless incident, withdrawing her own to the safety of her own lap.
“So, Ed, what brings you here?” Masha asked as the five of them tried to chew themselves through the day's main meal. “He’s a friend of mine,” Sam jumped in before he could open his mouth, making him look at his plate.
“I’ll be helping him with a case which might take some time.”
“How original,” Masha rolled her eyes, “They’re always friends of yours.”
Ed frowned, keeping his thoughts to himself.
I think I should speak to someone about this, but who’d believe me? It sounds crazy. But it’s not. It’s just him. He’s always been there. You know that so why bother? You know him, it’s nothing special, it’s nothing new. You know everybody pretends he’s not there. You’ve known this for some time. Are they? Are they really just pretending? Really, why are you so worried? Don’t worry, really. It’s just I think this is not normal anymore.
“What are you looking at?” Sam entered Mat’s, well, what now quite undemocratically became Ed’s room, with Mat getting a new bed on the couch in Jo’s room, trying not to stumble over the little one’s legos and stuffed toys.
“Nothing, really,” Ed said almost too quickly, dropping the curtain that now covered his view of the car parked down the road. “I'm just admiring your fancy neighbourhood.”
I’ll tell him. I know I couldn’t do it today. I was weak. It was scary, and I was so nervous. He kept whistling around throughout the entire confession. I promise I’ll do it next time.
Sam came closer to the window. “I’m happy to have you around again,” she said, ruffling Ed’s hair with her hand, “I’ve really missed you, you know.”
He bent his knees slightly to avoid her fingers. “Don’t touch me, please,” he asked, and Sam quickly withdrew her hand back into her pocket.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, glancing at the big yellow, one-eyed Despicable Me rug. “It’s just … it’s been a long time, and I’m really happy to see you again.”
I’ve just told him. He said everything was alright that I shouldn’t worry.
“You weren’t that happy the last time we saw each other,” he pointed out, rubbing his forearms. Well, he put that mildly, and she knew it. Sam wasn’t only unhappy that day; she was upset and mad at the thought that she’d lose yet another one of the two people she cared for the most in her life.
I think I told him. I think he said everything was alright and that I shouldn’t worry. It’s all so blurred and foggy. When was it already? Or was it all in my head?
“I’m not sure if I want… to go through it all over again,” Ed sighed, his gaze still fixed on the now-veiled window.
God, please, please don’t feel disgusted with me. Writing keeps me sane. Does it? I can’t even control my mind. How could I possibly control my fingers and words?
“We have to do it, Ed,” Sam replied with a cold, steely voice, “Somebody has to. If not us, who else?”
Wait, who is Sammy to tell me what to do? Tell her to leave you alone!
