Just being in his presence is traumatizing. In fact, I have wondered if he would be Satan himself, if he wasn't also such a half-witted and bumbling putz. We already know that as well as having extraordinary supernatural powers and abilities, that he has also been in and out of mental institutions."
"What are you still not telling us?" say I.
Carl pensively breaks off a piece of his giant oatmeal cookie, dips it experimentally in his coffee, then nibbles on it. "Okay. I'll tell you everything. It all started when I was twelve. Just before my parents divorced. Mom had taken us out for ice cream. It was June, the night of the solstice. As we approached the house, he was just coming out onto the street. Tall, blonde, incredibly handsome, and he looked at me in such a way that I completely lost my bearings, felt completely overwhelmed and dropped into a faint. I didn't hit the ground because Mom was holding me in her arms. I came to, and she hurried us both into the house, commanded us to go up to our bedrooms. Then she was yelling at my father. It sounded horrendous. The next day, early in the morning, she woke us up, bundled us into a cab after packing some of our clothes, and we went to a hotel. Then she divorced him..
No comments:
Post a Comment