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***
- Haa... Would the expression 'I'm on hold' be clearer? - Gina glanced at me as she took five pregnancy tests out of the bag.
In an instant I felt my face turn white and my heart sink into my heels. This can't be real, can it? Not now! Not ever!
- So, daddy-to-be, are you gonna run away or wait for me to pee?
Yeah, it's a great way to take your mind off the death of a stranger in a drug den that the police shut down.
.....
- A day's delay can mean nothing, can't it? - I said, sitting on needles, not on the sofa.
- ...Maybe. - Gina answered me from the bathtub.
- Is it even right to take a test this early? - Shouldn't the delay be longer? What? Not everyone who gets into a machine knows how it works.
- ...How would I know? This is the first time I've ever been in this situation.
- Gina, are you sure you're--
- Bart, shut up! I'm trying to pee.
- I'm sorry. - I think I'm actually a little tense. I need to exhale and get back to my normal, cool self.
- ...
- Gina?
- Haa. What now?
- Can I help you?
- Bart, I swear to God, if you don't shut up right now and I can't pee on five cartons, I'll rip your head off and you'll wonder what body part.
- Gina, this is no time for flirting, get it together and pee!
- Oh, God. Keep me from having kids with this idiot.....
.....
Well, Gina. Either god doesn't listen to prayers, or he's a troll....
- Can't there be a mistake? - Looking at five plastic sticks with two strips on each, only chewing my nails saved me from trying to throw myself out the window screaming.
- I really want to believe it could..... - surprisingly, even Gina wasn't herself. And not in the usual sense of being unhinged. Instead of shouting, threatening and crashing everything around her, Gina stood still with a blank expression on her face and just stared at the tests.
- ...So what are we going to do? - I interrupted the silence in the room for a few minutes.
- ...What do you suggest? - Gina asked unemotionally, as if she didn't have any desire to hear my answer.
And really, what should we do now?
Give birth? To whom? To us?
Gina is an ex-con who spent most of her life in the colonies. And, don't tell her I said this, but it's very likely with her temperament and behaviour, she'll be back in the penal colony sooner or later.
That leaves me.
I'm a terrible father to begin with. I'm not serious, I'm a fool, I can only teach my child how to make mistakes in life. And I'm still young, I want to live for myself.
Besides, if I take responsibility. How will I be able to provide for the child? By finding a new supplier and continuing to sell? That's a very decent and reliable source of income. Find a proper job? Yeah, all that's left is to find an employer who doesn't use the internet and google my name.
And at the end of the day, Gina and I don't love each other. We're just sleeping together, benefiting each other in the process. Straight up family, mum and dad material....
So there's only one way out?
- ... Your body, your decision? - I still couldn't propose an abortion. Whether out of cowardice or some other reason. Like conscience and all that.
- ...Do you have any money? - After thinking for a long time, Gina finally said in a breath, as if she was in a hurry.
.....
I have money. What attracts people in the delivery of substances is the opportunity to make a quick and easy profit. Which is basically what I did.
After dropping by my flat, taking the money, Gina and I, who had decided to wait outside, headed straight to the clinic.
There were several patients in the abortion clinic, who carefully avoided eye contact, and to be honest, I didn't really want to lift my head from the floor.
- What are you looking at? You want two arseholes for eyes? - and yes, in Gina's case, it was different. She doesn't avoid eye contact at all.
- Excuse me, could you fill out a chart, please? - and she intimidates even the clinic staff.
Anyway, we were lucky, if that's any way to talk about the situation, and managed to get an appointment for today.
- Wow, if I was paying, I'd probably choose a flight of stairs or a hanger. - and if I couldn't shake the stress of the situation and the pressures of the treatment centre, Gina was sitting with her legs spread wide and chewing gum.
- ...Do you think it's seven weeks or more? - I opened a pamphlet on abortion and whispered to Gina.
- Do you remember when you started coming down on me? - her answer made several women move away from us. Two in general went to the counter, reassigned the date and left.
- D-Gina Vendetti? - a nurse approached us on shaky legs. Who nearly fainted on the spot at the sight of Gina. - T-t-there's a window open...
- So?
- Ah! Erm. W-would you like to go next? - The nurse asked with a wry smile, almost on the verge of tears and clutching her knees in a way that made it look like she would have no problem passing the pregnancy test.
Naturally, Gina said yes. So on a deep exhale, the nurse left. The whole situation made me reevaluate Gina's behaviour and think about how it had saved us hours of waiting.
- Miss Vendetti? - followed the woman, another nurse emerged from the doctor's office.
- A seat. - Gina said to me like a dog as I followed her upstairs. - You already made a mess of things when you wouldn't listen to me.
Saying nothing, I did as Gina said and sat back down in the uncomfortable chair. After all, she's kind of a girl, isn't she? And for them, procedures like this can mean a lot.
- Young man? - Suddenly someone was sitting down next to me. I glanced at the middle-aged woman. - If you are being abused in a relationship, please contact us.
Slipping me the helpline number, glancing back at the door where Gina had entered, the middle-aged woman hurried away, on her way showing me the receiver attached to her ear.
- What is it about Gina that scares everyone so much? - I mean, she's a bit rude, but still....
- IF YOU PUT THAT PIPE IN THERE, YOU'LL GO OUT THE WINDOW FASTER THAN YOUR TITS!
...Here come a few more girls rescheduling days and leaving the clinic.
.....
Gina's been gone about an hour. Maybe two. To be honest, I fell through time, feeling strangely relaxed after all the stress I'd experienced today.
When she came out. I wanted to say something, but my tongue felt like it was stuck in my mouth at the sight of Gina's pale skin tone.
I don't think my feelings for someone had changed this fast since Sherry. The only thing I didn't understand was, why was that?
- ...How'd it go?
- Took the magic pill. Told me to keep walking, keep watching until--
- ...I see. - I hate to think about it, but it's a relief.
- Yeah.
As I handed Gina the jacket, I couldn't shake the strange feeling. Ever since we've been together, there's been no awkwardness between us, and now...
...I don't want to be around Gina. It's the awkwardness, isn't it? That's what I'm feeling, isn't it?
We left the clinic in silence, and I was surprised that Gina didn't ask about our next appointment at reception. But I couldn't talk to her, so I assumed that the doctor in the office had told me the days of our next appointments.
We were walking in the same direction for a while when we went outside. I don't know about Gina, but I was walking in a dull machine.
- Bart, you know what? - Gina started in an unexpectedly meek way. I even thought that she would need my support right now and I would have to say something to ease her feelings. My thoughts were wrong, however, because Gina said: - Let's not see each other anymore.
- Haa... - A sigh of relief escaped from me. Next, I wanted to punch myself, for I thought that my behaviour was a characteristic of a b*tch. - If you say so.
At my guilty reply, Gina nodded calmly and waved me off, walking down the street. I, on the other hand, remain standing still, because .
- ...Where am I supposed to go?
========== Interlude 7: Family is Family ==========
Interlude 7: A family is a family.
** Lisa**
- ...
- How's work going, Homie? - Mum tried to break the silence.
Since Bart had pulled out in a scandal. Dinner together has turned into a parade of lonely people who, even together, still act like they're all alone.
Frankly, I don't know what the scandal was and I can only guess. Knowing Bart, it was his fault. He must have lost it, caught up in his own whiplash over the fact that when the story of his...
No, I don't want to think about what my brother did to another woman.
However, when that unpleasant history came to light. Bart, though deservedly so, took it hard. He lost everything he'd worked for as a wrestler. He was cut from the national team. I'm sure the college also took away his scholarship invitation.
What added to his problems is that we live in the age of social media. So his sins are out there for all the world to see. And will forever be on display. He's just a bloke, not a politician or a politician's son. No one's gonna clean up his mess.
That's why Bart shut down. Even had a falling out with Milhouse. He told me when he came to explain that he didn't know what my brother was up to.
So Bart lost everything. Even though it was his own fault. But as his sister, I still felt sorry for him.
- Haa. - the realisation that even though I felt sorry for him, I'd done nothing about it was killing me at times. - I'm done. Can I go now? I have an essay to write.
It's easy to see in the eyes of my family that guilt is not a unique trait for me. Except Dad's the exception, there's nothing to say about him at all.
- Okay, sweetie. I'll bring you some biscuits and milk later.
Mum's trying to be a lot nicer to me and Maggie, sometimes even to the point of obsession. She seems to blame herself for missing Bart. She seems to think she didn't give him enough love. She hasn't shown him that love doesn't require any subterfuge, much less the kind of subterfuge ...
- ...I'm full.
Maggie was getting quieter. It might sound strange, considering her older sister and her mother, but it was probably Bart who was closest to Maggie. He was always playing with her, watching films, just hanging out.
I'm busy getting into college. I don't have time. I sound like the best sister in the world, don't I? But when you're fighting for a scholarship, you've got to make the best of it.
For Mum, Maggie's the third child. And it's probably somewhat of a myth that the youngest in the family gets everything. No, Maggie is spoilt, spoilt by everyone. Except her mum doesn't push her. In the right sense of the word. She doesn't motivate her, she doesn't force her. And while that may sound cool and wonderful, it doesn't prolong Maggie's childhood, it only deprives her of the opportunity to grow up.
It's probably why Maggie gives up on everything she takes on, no matter what she's into. When she reaches her first ceiling, there's no one to push her to see if it's glass.
- Haa. How clever and understanding I am.... - came out of me sarcastically on the way to my room.
Thinking to myself is easy. It's easy to be good in your head. The truth is, good thoughts are not good deeds at all.
If I really wanted to do the right thing, I could be that pusher. Except. I can't even talk to Maggie about these things. I don't know if it's because I'm afraid that she won't understand me, or that I won't be able to give her the advice she needs, but the bottom line is that I see something wrong, but I don't do anything about it.
I guess I'm an adult now, huh?
Maggie used to talk to Bart, even the tough stuff. I've heard that many times. It surprised me at first. Because I could never imagine Bart as a counsellor, but later I just stopped paying attention.
And now Bart's gone. And out of the corner of my eye, at the table, the whole family is clinging to an empty chair. Behind my wall, there's absolute silence.
And even though it was like this before he left. He often slept in the treehouse and, out of shame, didn't eat with us at the same table. But now that he's really gone, it feels much more alive.
- How are you?
After building up my resolve a fortnight ago, I wrote to him for the first time. Now I write almost every day. But it seems like he's either changed his number or blacklisted my number.
- Knowing Bart, he could have lost his phone.
Naturally, I, like the rest of the family, wonder where he is and how he's doing. But none of us even know if he's alive. Let alone where he lives or what he does for a living.
- He couldn't have fallen in with a bad crowd, could he?
He's probably got a job as a trainer or a shop assistant or something. He eats crap cos he's too lazy to cook. And barring the occasional bout of heartburn or worse, he's fine.
He's like his father, after all. Never gets discouraged, never takes life too seriously.
.....
On my return from school today, I was welcomed into the house by none other than my mum. Along with her, on a chair opposite the sofa sat a tall, stocky man in a mackintosh.
- Hello, Lisa, right? - Wiping the sweat from his forehead, instead of removing his mackintosh in the house, the man pointed to a seat on the sofa next to his mum. - I'm a police officer...
After the badge demonstration, I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I kind of relaxed, recognising that the stranger wasn't a burglar or worse. On the other hand, the police don't just come to visit, which meant something bad, maybe even very bad, had happened.
- Something with dad? Or with-
- It's Bart, Lisa. Your brother's in trouble. - only now I noticed that Mom wasn't just sitting there, she was stroking her forehead.
- What story? - I sat down next to Mum. At least one of us should keep calm.
- Selling drugs, and possibly complicity in rape and subsequent murder. - the policeman said something that almost made me faint. I used to think that people could faint from words only in the cinema, but when you hear something like that.... One can easily understand the mind's desire to escape.
.....
A police officer said a relative of a former mayor, now a board member of a major company in Springfield, had recently gone missing. The investigation determined that in light of the unsolved circumstances, she ended up in a brothel. Where she was drugged, sexually assaulted and eventually hanged.
My brother's involvement is still unknown. However, one of the detainees said he was close to the prime suspect, worked for him.
- Is my brother involved in drugs? - For a moment, I thought my head was going to stop thinking.
How could Bart do something like that?
What drove him to do it?
If he was so desperate, why didn't he ask for help?
Next, my mum and I were shown a photo of the deceased and asked if Bart knew her. After asking permission, the police went straight to his room.
And to put it mildly, they didn't mess around. They turned the room upside down, opening every drawer and breaking a few things, inadvertently knocking them off shelves or tables.
Only now did I realise how little Bart had taken with him. I wonder if this is such a male ideology or if it has some other meaning.
Lisa, focus! Don't get distracted by nonsense!
- Are we taking the computer? - The detective asked while taking out the system unit.
- Mnhm!... Hmm!
And while he and Mom were talking, I noticed that Maggie was sitting in her room with her back against the wall to Bart's room, crying and covering her ears.
- If he shows up or contacts you, please call this number. - Already in the doorway, after glancing at the people who had turned Bart's room upside down, the detective held out a business card.
- My baby... Didn't do it... - Looking down at the floor, Mum stretched out in a weak voice, reluctantly taking the contact details.
- I'm sorry, Mrs Simpson, but everyone knows his story. - Hinted at what had happened to Sherry. - It's just the next step.
The detective walked away with a complicated expression on his face. It was as if he felt sorry for us at the same time he felt no doubt about Bart's guilt.
- Lisa, you hungry? - after he left. Still in the doorway, holding my card, my mother asked me, not turning away from the closed door.
- N-no, Mum... - such a prosaic question in our circumstances, I was even a little confused.
- Then go to your room to do your homework, okay?
- Okay.
As I was leaving, I turned around and saw that Mum was still standing in the same place, unmoving. Should I do something? Or say something? But what?
Undecided, I just walked up the stairs. Avoiding, for some reason, the pictures hanging along the stairs. Especially the ones with Bart in them.
- Mm-hmm. Hnnnn!
But instead of going to my room and sitting down to read a book, I stopped in Bart's room. Where, sitting on his lap, Maggie was trying to put the books back on the shelves. They might be able to be put back in place, but I'm afraid the layer of dust on them is gone....
- Come on, let me help.
After being the bad daughter and sister long enough, I went into the room and squatted down next to Maggie, picking up one of the books.
For a while we gathered up the scattered things, magazines, clothes, pillows in silence. Pretty soon, in my presence, Maggie stopped crying.
- Lisa, do you think Bart really did it? All of it? - until I asked a very difficult question.
- I-I... I don't know, Megs. - which I answered with the first thing that popped into my head.
- How can you not know?! - and judging by Maggie's tone, I shouldn't have. I should have thought better of my answer.
- Huh?' At the sudden change in my sister's voice, I could only turn to her with my mouth hanging open.
- I know Bart didn't do it! That Bart didn't do anything!
With shouts and scolding, Maggie shoved me out of the room. I stood there for a while, thinking I'd knock and try to talk. But realising I'd screwed up enough for today, I just went to my room.
-Three days from now-
- Marge, don't tell the kids, but Bart got caught! - a distraught father ran into the dining room.
- ...
- ...
- ...
Where the entire Simpson family was already seated at the table.
- Taw!
- What?! How?! - Mom, who's been having trouble sleeping lately, was the first to wake up.
- Carl had been told by an acquaintance of his at a Springfield Black Men's Community gathering. He also promised to talk to me about joining.
- I don't care how you found out--
- Ohh.
- How did he get caught?! What's wrong with him?!