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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "A Mother's Love"  Why do you think I asked your Meemaw to take Tad in next year? That's what your mom said, and it's a minute or two before you realize the question has left your jaw hanging open. "Wait, what?" you ask. "I'm sending Tad to live with your Meemaw for a couple of months," she says in a very even voice, "so I can figure out if Robert and I can live together." "Live together," you echo. "Like?" "Like under the same roof." You lift your eyebrows. "Uh huh. Where? And where am I while you're—?" "Here," she says. Her voice hardens. "Or if you've got someplace else you can—" "Whoa, whoa! You mean here here?" "Yes, here! The lease on his apartment is up at the end of December—" "Wait! Fuck me! Is this cocksucker looking for a way to save on rent?" Her eyes blaze. "David," she says, "I'm going to call Robert to come pick me up, and I'm going to wait for him outside! I'll be back in the morning. And if you can't talk calmly about this then without being a little— a little—!" You leap from the sofa and stalk into the kitchen. She goes out the front door, banging it shut behind her. You pace the house, mastering a temper that is not yours and trying to look at things with a cold, reasonable eye. Of course you understand why Kirkham is upset to learn that his mom is banging someone from her work. But to learn on top of that that she's bringing him in to live with them ... while kicking her other son out of the house ... Well, even you are shocked. So what are you going to do about it? David Kirkham wouldn't know what to do, except maybe burn the house down. Well, you can stop him from doing that. But you would feel awkward staying the night here, oppressed by worries and angers that are not your own. And you'd just be kicking the conversation down the road until tomorrow morning. You wheel for the door and charge out to join Mary Kirkham on the front sidewalk, where she is hugging herself against the cold night air while studying the screen of her phone. "Listen, just answer me one question," you tell her. "Why are you sending Tad to Meemaw's?" Her expression is tight as she lifts her face from the phone to look sideways at you. "Because as hard as it would be on you, David, to have Robert with us, it would be harder on Tad." "I thought it was because money was tight. That's what you told me this morning, Meemaw offered—" "Well, that's what I told you. And then I was going to tell you about Robert, and how he was going to move in and help pick up some of the expenses." "So is that how come he's really moving in? To help with the money?" "No," she says. "We're doing okay financially. But I wanted an excuse for putting some distance between him and Tad—" "Pfah!" "What was that for?" "Nothing. Go on." Her chin is trembling when she replies. "I'm doing this," she says in a low and very controlled voice, "because Tad is even more fragile than you are, David. And you've just proved to me that you are very fragile. You and your brother—" She stops to brush away a sudden tear with her fingertip. "You've had me to yourselves your whole lives—" "I can handle you having a boyfriend!" you explode. "I think Tad can too!" "I don't think you can! Else, why have you been acting like a jealous—? Like you're jealous?" "I'm not jealous! I just don't like being lied to!" "Well, I wasn't trying to lie. I was just trying to keep things quiet." You kick at the ground, and glare at the car headlamps that are sweeping up the street toward you. But it's someone else, and they sweep past with a swish of tires. "David—" "Go inside," you tell your mom. "I don't want you going home with this cock— With this guy. I don't want you going away mad. I wanna talk to the guy, alone." "No. I don't want you—" "I'm not gonna bite him! I'm not gonna hurt him, I'm not—!" You take a breath. "I'm just going to tell him I know all about him and you, and that Tad's gonna know about him and you too. And that everything's gonna be okay with him and us. Except if he ever decides to be a son of a bitch. 'Cos then they're gonna have to take out most of his bowels if he's ever gonna get back his stethoscope from where I'm gonna put it. "And," you continue, lowering your brow, "if he can't handle me telling him that, 'cos he's such a delicate flower, or because he's a dickweed who knows he's in for trouble from me, then we'll find out. Tonight. Instead of later. After he's been living here and we have to repaint the living room because of what I've done to him." Your mom stares, then says "Jesus" under her breath and totters back into the house. You take up station at the end of the driveway. Behind the car, which—it suddenly startles you to see—is parked there. But you don't give any thought to the logistics of how the guy and your mom were getting around. * * * * * You had an iron grip on Kirkham during that talk with your mom, and you've an iron grip on him still when the dark sedan comes sweeping in. But you are giving Kirkham his head and doing little more than reining him back from saying or doing something really regrettable. "Hey, you're David," Dr. Robert Hamm says after rolling down his window at your approach. "I remember you. Your mom—" "My mom's inside, and she's staying the night here," you bluntly inform him. "So you can turn around and go back home." His smile turns glassy as you lean on his car and bend to address him. "I got home this afternoon," you tell him, "and I was here when you and my mom came back. I don't know what your bedside manner is like, doctor," you continue as his smile freezes into a rictus, "but based on what I heard, I can make some pretty good guesses about what your general 'bed technique' is like." You tap the roof of his car as you talk. He listens with an expression that, as you continue, deepens into one of fascinated terror. "I don't like it when my mom screams. You understand, it's not a sound I like. Makes me wanna grab whoever's making her scream, and kick his spine out through the front of his stomach. Sorry, can't be helped. Basic human reaction. Even when I know the screams are—" You shrug. "Aren't the kind she minds making, right? Okay? "So here's how it's going to work." He visibly swallows as you lean in toward him. "My mom tells me you're planning to move in with us at the end of the year. And that you think you're gonna be kicking my brother out to live with his grandma. And me, you think I'm going to be a total pussy and let you do all this. Uh uh. No." You bang the roof of his car your knuckles. "Tomorrow you're going to explain to my mom that you've changed your mind and won't be moving in with us after all. And my brother isn't going anyplace either. Oh, you can still bring your ass over, as much as you want. Glad to have you over. We'll have dinner parties and party games afterward. We'll play fucking charades. "But you're not spending the night at our place, not once, not ever again. Not even if you send Tad to another sleepover and arrange an orgy for me with the entire fucking high school cheerleader squad. If you and my mom wanna figure out if you can 'live together'"—you hook some air quotes with one hand—"then she can try it at your place. Fuck it, she can move in with you, I basically been taking care of me and Tad solo already. Then eventually, if you and my mom figure you can live under one roof without killing each other, we can try it out here. See if we can all live together without me killing you. But we're gonna try that out later rather than sooner. "Also, we're not gonna have no more sneaking around, no more secrets. I'll tell Tad myself that our mommy has a new boyfriend, and that he's—" You grind to a halt and have to remaster yourself. "That he's getting sloppy-happy with her. Don't worry about him, he knows how it works. It's just that—" You lean in closer to whisper hoarsely at the man. "We don't want him looking at his mommy's bedroom door every goddam time he walks past it and thinking about what kind of fuckery is going on on the other side of it. Do we?" You stand back up. "I know you understand that. I know you're trying to be a good guy about it. So I'll even tell you how you be an actual good guy. You're gonna tell my mom you changed your mind about moving in, because you got to thinking about Tad and how unfair it is to fuck him up by chucking him into a new middle school in a new town for half the year, just so you can do the horizontal happy with his mommy without worrying you're giving him psych issues. And that the way to handle Tad is for you to keep your distance and to have your fun at your place, not ours. Because you're just that kind of fucking saint. "So that's the way it's going to be, doctor. Else I'm gonna have to tell my mom I really don't like you and don't think you're good for her. And if you want, I can give you the names of some other people I really didn't like, and they can tell you if they enjoyed being not liked by me. "Have a good night." You pat the hood of his car, step back, and gesture him to run for home. Next: "ILFs in Odd Places" |
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