"We should come back here sometimes," said Hasta.
His sister was by his side as they walked around a tranquil park. Savonniers were aligned on each side of a stone pedestrian venue, all wearing an autumnal coat.
"It'd be a good place for a picnic." He added.
"A good place to drink, you mean," retorted the young girl while rolling her eyes.
"No… to PICNIC." Then he coughed and whispered: "But what is a picnic without some good wi…"
"I knew it! You only want to drink!"
She was half-smiling as she scolded him. He was laughing, too. He ruffled her styled hair, and she groaned.
"Do I look like a little kid to you?"
Hasta observed her for a moment. Her sand-toned skin was smooth and freckled. She had round hazel eyes, cocoa straight hair, a uni-lip, a snub nose, and an oblong face shape. She was not wearing any makeup except for a light touch of mascara and natural-colored eye shadow, and even though she was not the prettiest, she did not need any more. She was naturally cute and feminine. But with strong, hard-angled eyebrows. It was a family trait. Both siblings were very determined, and it showed on their faces.
She was tall, just like Hasta. And she looked exactly like him in a softer way. Her curves made her a woman, and she was indeed already sixteen. He sighed. Yes, she was not a baby anymore, but he just told her as he always did, even if she got mad:
"But Kata, you'll always be a little kid."
As he said that, she started pouting.
"You kidding, right. Who is a little kid! You talk like you're already thirty! You old man."
She changed her attitude when she saw her classmates in the distance and asked her brother before rushing to their side. Hasta let her go and kept watching her back with a fatherly look. His eyes squinted when he saw three boys in between her new friends. He felt like he should break some legs already.
He sighed again.
'This won't do,' he thought. 'I can't be on her back like that anymore…'
He sent her a message with his wrist implant, composing letters with his five fingers like playing the piano. He told her to go out with them and have good fun while he took care of the paperwork for their new apartment. The truth is, he tried to make her a surprise and now had the perfect excuse to keep her at a distance. Without waiting for her answer, he exited the park.
Buildings were tall and obstructing the sky, but sun-simulating lamps warmed the streets. The lights were made so shadows would follow the real-time day cycle. At night, stars would be projected on the skyscrapers' facades. Greenery was everywhere, mixing with shops, balconies, and roads. Noise pollution was only pedestrian-made, as there were no vehicles around. There were drones and cameras assuring Safety, and the climate was good, not too hot or cold. He inhaled the clean air of their neighborhood with satisfaction. It was indeed a great place to start over. Knowing they were now far away from the infamous side of the city made him at peace.
Even though this came at a cost, he was ready to accept almost anything as long as his new employers gave better opportunities to his sister. The job was already his most hated thing, though. Certainly, because he was now indirectly working for their maternal grandfather. Just thinking about it made him madly clench his fist.
At that moment, a call rang in his right ear, and a name appeared in his eye. He snorted.
'Think of the devil.'
He forced himself to pick up, and a low, rough voice sounded.
"Playing hard to get already? Come to the Center. We have things to settle."
Then, the call ended.
Hasta stared blankly in the distance, a fire rapidly building inside his entrails. He called back and got redirected to an answering machine, but he did not care who listened and lashed out:
"What do you think I am?! A dog?! Do you get to whistle me?!"
He hated it, the authoritative know-it-all tone, the condescending attitude… He always bossed people around even when they did not work for him! This man believed respect was a due and not a merit! Too bad he was not there in person: Hasta would have punched him already. Who cared if he was seventy-five years old? Elder or not, there were too many emotions involved. Too many unsettled businesses between them. This could not be called bad blood anymore. Hasta would kill the man under other circumstances.
This bastard did break their family apart. Kata was soon to be born, but Hasta was already six when their father died. He was old enough to understand that this grandparent he never met before was why his mother never talked about her family. He knew from stories she told him she eloped with his father, abandoning her former life for a humbler one. He also guessed her mom never talked with him all those years, and only at her husband's funeral did they meet again.
Nobody would believe Hasta if he told them he remembered the ceremony as vividly as he once lived it. His dad lying in a blue-sheeted silver coffin was only one of the three iron-hammered memories in his child mind.
The second thing marking him was his mother's intense grief. She was so stoic, habitually. He never had seen his mom cry, shout, or burst into anger and despair as she did that day. Her face had always been the definition of poker, but not this time. Emotions succeeded each other, piled on each other, and overflowed. He could see a storm in her, a turmoil he had never witnessed in anyone else to this day. As a kid, he believed, someone suffering this much might never be able to express anything for the rest of their life.
'She emptied herself,' he thought about it a decade later. 'A part of her died with dad.'
Even more shocking than his mother's outburst was his grandfather's reaction. What he said that day was engraved deep inside him. To say that on the very day of the funeral was the chrome on the steel. He could not forget even if he wanted to.
"Stop crying," he told her with a critical expression. "It's unsightly. Remember that you should have never married him. That pathetic second-rate biologist… He could have gone nowhere! Better free yourself from him sooner than later. But here, now, you made it. You had to have a child with him. But no design baby, no… it had to be a natural one!"
He then stared at the round-faced boy Hasta was at the time as he declared:
"With a father like this, how can he be anything but imperfect? You can only blame yourself for your poor life choices. Be glad you still have time to get rid of the one you carry."
His mother instantly stopped crying and raised her head, shooting lightning with her eyes. if a glare could kill someone, that man would have joined his son-in-law in the casket.
"Don't look at me this way, young girl!" he said with authority. "This is not how I raised you! I forged you! In my image! I can't believe you show so much sentimentalism! I guess I was too lenient to let grow so many weaknesses. I should have beaten you more into shape! But at least, I guess now he is dead, it's only a matter of time before you return to your senses. There is no way you won't see for yourself how stupid you are once you have to live in this pigsty with two brats and no support. You'll certainly come back where you belong."
His mother became so furious she attacked the man. She had to be stopped by the bodyguards, and struggled in their arms like a mad woman for a while, even broke one nose in the process. Hasta felt himself fuming just reminiscing.
"Who do you think you are?" His cold voice was sharp like a knife. "You're the one who called me! How funny! You need the imperfect me now! Not giving a shit for years, and now you need me! You didn't even come to your daughter's funeral, but you came so fast because now, there is something of interest to you! Playing the grandfather card? Do you think you have authority over me? As my elder? You are no family! Do you think you can talk to me like that? I don't fucking care who you are in this city, just remember this. Remember this! When you ask for someone's help, you better get down from your pedestal! I'm starting on Monday. Ask for me during my paid hours, you bastard."
Hasta hung up.