And to my fellow Earthlings... it continues.
If you're new here, feel as free as a winged spider to thread your web around the Table of Contents!
To those who are all caught up... enjoy.
Red Abyss Insatiable - II. Value and Worth - Part Four
For your read-along or read-alone pleasure, I present to you the transcription:
--------------------------------------
Next Part (To be Updated upon Availability)
You can follow me on Twitter @Keatongwolfe
Or you can try on this Cloak of Invisibility
And be sure to see what's behind the curtain.
Until next time...
If you're new here, feel as free as a winged spider to thread your web around the Table of Contents!
To those who are all caught up... enjoy.
For your read-along or read-alone pleasure, I present to you the transcription:
Alexander’s
angry episodes were only an expedient to more venting. To young Aden Walker they were altogether
insignificant, truly nothing to dwell upon.
Even the polar extremes had been too infrequent to waste any time with. They were essentially harmless, the
complicated effects of an overworked father who probably felt unappreciated,
who spent half of each twenty-four-hour cycle in a loud grey factory with other
men who were just as overworked; Aden knew this because Alexander brought him
along to the factory once, telling him to work hard in school so he wouldn’t
have to do the same kind of work. As a
boy, Aden
didn’t necessarily love who his father was, but he in no way hated or despised
him. Alexander was his father, and as
far as Aden
knew, father’s sometimes lost their tempers.
During his childhood, everything in life
was simplistic enough to be placed into categories such as good and bad, right
and wrong. During the transition between
being a child and entering puberty, however, Aden stumbled upon a very peculiar
experience. It was his first taste of
surreality, however dim and disturbing its bitter flavor. It stole him away from his previous, childish
notions and pushed him into a place of mystery and misery, a place without
absolutes.
The very first time Aden had undergone this experience was on a
weeknight during summer vacation. He was
carefully walking up the stairs, carrying a full glass of dark red juice. Naturally, out of his caution to prevent a
spill, his footsteps became slow and quiet.
Aden
hastened after reaching the second-story hallway, scuttling between the master
bedroom on his right and the restroom he and Angelica shared to his left. A little further and he was located between
his and Angelica’s chambers. As Aden walked through the
shaded hallway, he caught a glimpse of a shadow from within Angelica’s
bedroom. He turned and saw the figure of
his father.
Alexander’s back had been turned, and his
head was down, almost at a ninety-degree angle.
Aden
didn’t think anything odd at the time.
“Hey dad,” were his choice of words, a quick hi-and-bye.
Alexander jolted and then looked up and
over without turning. He twisted his
neck so as to see the one who addressed him.
Upon making eye-contact, Alexander smiled, saying, “Oh! Hey Aden,
how you doing?” His breathing sounded
heavy, and as Alexander stared with his neck twisted and his back turned, Aden felt disgusted.
It was during that silent moment when Aden realized something
was happening. Observing the details,
Aden put the pieces together; it was in the sweaty glaze surrounding his
father’s face, the forcefulness of the smile, the location of the man’s hands,
the semi-darkness and position of Alexander’s body, and the way the man’s back
had been directly pivoted so that Aden couldn’t see what he was hiding. The robe Alexander wore was like a blanket,
covering all but the man’s feet. “Well?”
questioned his father.
“I’m doing fine,” replied Aden. Distrusting the quality in the man’s gaze, he
quickly left the conversation by entering his bedroom. He was sure to close the door behind
him. A few seconds were spent in remote
quiet, the image still clear in his mind of his father’s hands--and the objects
they were holding. This mystery was
different than the other of life’s riddles, more like a crack in the foundation
beneath Aden’s
very feet. Not a game, not a game at
all.
He asked himself the questions: What was Alexander doing? Why was he in Angelica’s room? Was he masturbating? If so, why did he leave the door wide open? And again:
Why was he in Angelica’s room?
But Aden
shrugged it off. Surely, it couldn’t
have been what it looked like... things like that just didn’t happen.
But about a week after the first incident,
while he and his sister were downstairs watching television, Aden happened to hear the faint footsteps of
somebody walking from room to room on the second floor. He thought, perhaps incorrectly, that he
heard a knee pop. So he told his sister
he was going to the restroom and there was no need to pause the VHS tape. He ascended the stairs. He did so quietly (some would probably say
sneakily). The restroom door was ajar
and the light was on. He knew where Angelica
was, and he also knew that his mother was out shopping, which meant only one
thing:
Alexander was not using the much larger,
adult restroom located in the master bedroom.
Insofar as Aden
was concerned, this broke the untold rules of the household, assigned dos
and don’ts that had been silently established over the years. It was strange, and literally infrequent. Aden
was almost positive that Alexander had in fact never used the “kids’”
restroom before. But he was in
there. It was an actuality.
Aden
peeked through the wide crack and saw the unmistakable stature of his
father. Just as last time, it was
Alexander’s back that was visible, his head down focused on something directly
in front and below him. Aden looked down
to see what his father was so dearly focused upon, and what he saw was the pair
of his father’s hands gripping tightly onto a thick white towel. The towel was grinding back and forth, back
and forth, peculiarly close to Alexander’s groin. Alexander’s entire body was moving, ever so
subtly, and the breathing was quick, and it was harsh with effort. Aden
had seen enough. He knew exactly what
his father was doing.
He stepped back, unsure of which action to
take. So he stood there thinking,
thinking for too long, until finally the restroom door opened and Alexander
stood looking down on his son, the robe open in front so Aden could see the
man’s bare stomach and chest, as well as the man’s tighty-whities. Alexander raised his eyebrows in a
mock-gesture of surprise, and then laughed.
“Hey Aden! What are you doing sneaking around? You tryin’ to scare me?” He made his way around Aden,
but before he crossed the hallway to the master bedroom, he lifted his hand and
rustled Aden’s
hair. “I’m just kiddin’ around.” Alexander receded into the master bedroom
before the door closed and locked.
Aden
could feel the blood rushing to his face, out of disgust or out of anger he
didn’t know. What he did know, was that
he felt sick, and his hair was wet where his father had touched him.
Somewhat
sticky.--------------------------------------
Next Part (To be Updated upon Availability)
You can follow me on Twitter @Keatongwolfe
Or you can try on this Cloak of Invisibility
And be sure to see what's behind the curtain.
Until next time...
Art by Keaton G. Wolfe |