«Have you gone mad?» Papers from some lawyer came. Bank blocked all cards. All.
We have no money even for groceries. You decided to ruin us? He choked with rage and panic. In the background I heard Zoe’s sobs.
Not quiet, bitter weeping. But loud, demonstrative, hysterical wails. «Do you understand what you’re doing?» He yelled.
Zoe feels bad. She can’t get upset. And you, due to your senile dementia, decided to break our lives.
I did nothing, Gene, I answered quietly and calmly. This contrast between his scream and my whisper. Seemed to stun him.
He fell silent. «You did it all. You and your wife.
What, what did we do? We gave you a gift. Bought a house. And you repay us like this? You tried to steal my apartment, Gene.
You took a credit on it while I was dying of illness. You dumped me here so I wouldn’t learn until the bank takes my home. That’s what you did.
Dead silence hung on the other end. As dead as in this village. I heard only his heavy, ragged breathing.
He didn’t expect this. He thought I knew nothing. He thought it was just offense, just a show.
But it turned out a verdict. «Mom,» he croaked finally, and a pitiful, fawning note appeared in his voice. «Mommy, it’s all not like that.
It’s a mistake. Misunderstanding. We’ll explain everything.
Come on, cancel it all, huh? Withdraw all these papers. We’ll come, talk. Come,» I said. «Really?» Hope cut through his voice.
«You’ll cancel everything?» «No.» I said, «Come. I’m waiting.»
I pressed end. That’s it. Now they know.
They know it’s not a whim. Not offense. It’s war.
And they know I know their scariest secret. Now their panic will turn to despair. And despair pushes people to maddest acts.
I descended the hill. Night was dark, but I walked confidently. I knew they’d come.
And I was ready. They came the next day, closer to noon. I heard them long before seeing.
Engine roar, furiously and out of place tearing the sleepy village silence, and brake squeal right at my house. Dust rose in a pillar, covering wild currant bushes. I didn’t move.
I sat on the same porch where they dumped me days ago, and peeled young potatoes found in the overgrown garden. A few tiny, quail-egg sized tubers. My lunch.
Car doors slammed almost simultaneously. Gene jumped out first. Pale, haggard, with dark circles under eyes.
He wore an expensive shirt, but wrinkled, as if slept in it. Behind him, slower, Zoe emerged. Her face swollen, makeup smeared, but she still tried to hold her head high, with that expression of disdainful superiority become her second nature.
They stopped a few steps from the porch, looking at me. I didn’t raise my head, continuing to carefully cut thin skin from a potato. This simple, monotonous labor grounded me, didn’t let emotions take over.
I was not a drama participant, but a spectator. «Mom,» Gene began. His voice hoarse, pleading.
He stepped forward, extending arms as if to hug. I didn’t pull away, just kept looking at my hands. «Mommy, what is this? Why are you doing this to us?» I placed the peeled potato in a bowl of water and took the next.
«I was waiting for you,» I answered, not looking at him. This simple phrase apparently threw him off. He expected screams, reproaches, tears.
Anything but this icy, detached calm. «We, we came to talk,» he faltered. «Mom, it’s all some horrible misunderstanding.
We’re family. Families should help each other, not sue.» He spoke learned words, correct but empty.
No drop of sincerity, only fear. Fear of losing all he considered his by right. Here Zoe’s patience burst.
She stepped forward, pushing Gene aside. «Enough of this circus!» she hissed, her face twisted in malice. «Have you completely lost your mind in old age? Gone wild in your backwoods? What right did you have to block our accounts? Who gave you that right?» She almost screamed.
Her voice, thin and unpleasant, hit the ears. «Do you understand what you’ve done?» she continued, pointing at me with a finger of perfect manicure. «You’re shaming us.
We had to cancel the kitchen order. Cancel. People are laughing at us.
And I, I can’t get upset. Doctor forbade. I’m carrying a child, your grandson or granddaughter.
And you’re driving us to poverty.» She threw her main trump—pregnancy. Before, that word alone would’ve made me forget myself and rush to fulfill any whim.
But not now. The ice in my chest didn’t budge. I slowly raised my eyes to her.
Just looked. Long, attentively, unblinking. Like looking at an unfamiliar, unpleasant object.
My gaze made her falter. She stumbled, fell silent, but then recovered, her face flushed again. Gene picked up, again trying to play peacemaker.
«Mom, really. Zoe’s right, she can’t get nervous. Please, let’s settle it nicely.»
But you got offended, we understand. We’re guilty, overdid it. Maybe this house isn’t the best gift.
But we’ll fix everything. Return everything. Just call your that, lawyer.
Say you changed your mind. Right now. Here, take my phone.
He extended his shiny smartphone. As if it was so simple. Call, and all their lies, all betrayal vanishes, erases like writing on sand…
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