Monday, July 1, 2013

Day 83 - Darwin's Game - Chapter 32 (2361 words)

©Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

DARWIN'S GAME

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 32

“Hi everyone. My name is Jason.”

“Hi Jason.” Everyone answered back, Helen squeezing his hand for support.

The leader of the support group, a kindly older man who wore a priest’s collar but no robes or other vestments signifying his religious affiliation incline his head toward the group. “You can say whatever you like here, there's no judgement and there's no blame, there's just people like you.”

“That's a bit hard to believe, that there are people like me.” Jason held on tight to Helen's hand, she had convinced him to come to the support group at her local community hall, run by a priest, but only semi-religious at best according to her. It was a mixed bag of people who came here, and it was a place to share freely without fear, that was how she put it. Jason knew that she had issues with her father as well, a drunk or a violent man, possibly both as she never really told him the details.

“We all feel we are alone, Jason but that is a part of the way you are feeling and that is completely valid to feel that way, it may even be true, but I think you'll find more in common than not here.” The man's name was Michael, he eschewed all titles and honorifics here, in favour of an open and balanced discussion where anyone could say anything, and it would be safe.

“I understand that everyone goes through different things, and sometimes those things are hard to talk about, but that's not my problem. I... I want to talk about it. I do.”

“Then why don't you just say whatever you want to say?”

“I... I guess it's a trust thing, I need to know that no one … no one will talk about it. I don't mean to be rude, it's just that if I tell someone, someone tells someone else and … it's something I think people want to know and I... I want to talk about it. I do.” Jason blinks away a few tears welling up and the mood of the group changes from offended to protective in a heartbeat. Helen puts her arm around his shoulder, comforts him. They are not going out, but it feels like they might be soon if they are not careful or if they care at all. She knows he is having issues with getting to know his absentee father, something she could sympathise with, but he has not shared any of the details with her. He started to but she suggested that they bring the whole thing to group, in a trusting and caring environment where there was more than one reaction and more than one person to help him get in touch with how to handle his grief, anger or whatever else was driving him.

Jason felt that if he brought it to the group then it would either excuse Helen from the relationship if she wanted to, or let her put aside the feelings that would undoubtedly come out once she knew what he did. It felt like a proposition with less risk for the relationship he was interested in. Helen was damaged, and vulnerable, possibly like that forever and he was becoming protective and caring for her. She was attractive and needy, wasn't that a good combination for him? It was a selfish approach and he knew it, but at least there was good in it for both of them. That had to make it worthwhile, isn't that what everyone was looking for?

“Jason, this group is private, we share no details about who we are if we don't want to, we don't use last names, and I'm a priest, I am bound by confidence in this and pretty much all settings. Everyone here is sharing something painful and private they don't want anyone else to know, so unless you are harbouring some huge secret like you know who the second gunman was, or maybe who this Darwin person is, then maybe, just maybe you'll be ok?” Michael smiled at him when he saw Jason pale at what he was saying, but did not make the connection.

“Well...”

“Go on, just say whatever you want to … and if you don't maybe it's not the right time, we can try later or try something else or...” Helen was being the strong one all of a sudden and it was not the way that he saw this working at all, wasn't he here to save her, not the opposite?

“It's about my father. I never knew who my father was, and my mother she was not very big on the details. I guess I know why now, but for years I wondered what kind of man he was, and what kind of man would just run out and leave a young girl with a baby to fend for themselves, I mean what would my life be like if I knew him, you know?”

“We do, it's not uncommon among children who lose their parents at a young age, through accidents or through more … deliberate actions like yours, perhaps?”

“It's funny you talking about Darwin and my Dad.”

There's a collective gasp in the room and he hurriedly adds, “He's not my Dad and I don't know who he is … but he knows who my Dad is.”

Everyone is leaning slightly forward in their seats now and Jason sighs. Michael sees this is what what he was referring to, the interest in all things Darwin, the risk he's taking in exposing himself to strangers like this. “No one here is interested in sharing ANYTHING we hear outside of this room today, no one yes?” There is a murmur of assent, but they both think the same thing, that it's to find out what Jason has to say butt likely true that they'll keep the secret as well.

“My mother, she saw him on the TV, not the day he died but before that.”

“So he's one of the eight already dead then?” A lone voice asked out of the group, “I'm sorry I didn't... mean to pry and I'm just... the whole thing is so... I feel for you it must be hard to find out and to find out this way, I'm sorry.” There is another agreeing murmur, this one a little more sincere.

“I know that inside me there is a different person than him and that my mother brought me up well, to be a better man than him too, and I know that, I do know that.” Jason stops again and Helen squeezes his hand again, this time keeping it clasped until both their hands turn white.

“I know you're not that person, who ever your father is or was, I know you Jason, I know you are better.” That starts him crying again, this was very definitely not how he saw this going at all.

“I saw what they did to that old woman, the Washington woman, the mother of that guy, you know the one? The one that drown himself trying to kill, I mean killing that guy. I don;t want any of that, I don't want to be known as “so and so's son” I want my mother spared the pain and the attention for something that was a part, an unwelcome part too, of her life thirty years ago. I don't want people thinking that about me, I don't want them thinking that about her and looking at us and thinking... well I don't want anyone thinking anything.”

“There's no judgement here and there's no need to fear, no one here wants to share your secret, we don't even need to know which one you're talking about. You said he's one of the eight, you said he's dead already and that he's a bad man, which kind of goes without saying as there are no innocents in that... whatever that is... what you have shared, that's all we need to know.” Michael could sense some disappointment in the group, there was a sense of celebrity around this Darwin phenomenon and this was as close as they would ever get, two degrees of separation.

“I hear them talking about him on the radio, I see pictures of him on the Television all the time on these shows and he's just one of many, many others in there, but they may as well be printing my name under his picture, that's how it can make me feel. And when she talks about him now, when she tried to explain to me how and why... it makes no sense. The woman she is and the girl she was are two totally different people.”

“I'm sure that it's hard to process, it must be having your family wounds so publicly open, even if only you know that it is your family and no one else does.” Michael was choosing his words carefully because he didn't really know what to say to Jason, what could you say?

“I watched him die, I watched him die with my mother. She wanted to see it and I sat with her and we watched him die. It was over in flash, he was there and alive even though she had thought he was dead a few years before that, she had let go of him twice before already. When he left her she got over it and realised it was for the best, my grandparents, her parents, wanted to keep her as far away from him and the people he knew as possible. He didn't know about me, no one did except us really. She let go of him then, then when he was supposedly dead already, she let him go again knowing that he'd never turn up out of the blue and take any... make any... connection maybe? Who knows, but he wouldn't because he was dead right? But then he wasn't dead, and there he was on her laptop screen, on the internet and alive not dead at all.”

“That must have been...”

“It was mind blowing, there she was watching him die and she said to me “do you think this is real?” like I would know some how? This was my sharing with my mother, I was there for her and I was strong so she would not have to be, but it was like she was watching TV or a film or something. It was not as real as I thought it would be, it was … I was screaming inside my own head when I watched him, wanting to kill those other men, I could see it in him, I could see exactly how bad that man that gave life to me was. And when he got … his reward, justice or whatever you call it... I was relieved when it was done, and so very tired, I was exhausted. I was tired of it all. And she... that's when she started to tell me about him, when I was screaming in agony and exhausation, she needed me to listen to her, and I needed... I needed this.”

Jason looked around the room as if it were the first time he had seen these people, in that very instant and he had said so much, and still there was more and they had to listen, al they had to do was listen. That was what he needed, just this once and then he would be done.

“I didn't know anything about him until then, and now he's my Dad and he WAS dead, but NOW he's alive and a scum-bag and a fucking paedophile... oh sorry excuse me father, I forgot my language.”

Michael scanned the group and they were hanging on every word he said, he hoped the faith he had in them was not misplaced.“That is completely understandable and you're probably giving away more than you need to.”

“Too late for that now, it was Thomas Somerset, he is, was my father. He was older than my mother even then, she was so young and legal though only just. It just got worse when he got older, the girls got younger still. They interviewed one of the slightly girls he raped as he was on the run with that fifteen year old, child, he convinced to help him kill. She, the one he raped but didn't kill, she was damaged and scared of him even after he was dead, it was … that was my father.”

“Biologically he was, obviously in spirit he was far from involved who you turned out to be.” Michael felt out of his depth, it was a lot to take in in a single session but Jason obviously had a need to pour it out.

“That girl she watched him die, but all she could say was “where's the body?” She wouldn't believe he was dead, he'd been dead before … or brain dead... but she couldn't let get of the fear, I thought seeing his head explode like that would... do something, let her let go maybe?” Jason was wringing his hands and looking around the group, he was feeling the guilt for all his father's actions emotionally though academically he knew innocence, that was not how he felt.

“It's OK, it's not you, it's not you.” Helen had never felt closer or more protective of another human being in her life. She had been drawn to him for his certainty and his strength, but with feet of clay came a balancing between them that gave her a greater share in a future relationship, she could feel a righting of the world, she would not be dependent, maybe co-dependent but equally so.

Jason stopped wringing his hands and took hers again. “I know it's not me, and I know so many things here” He tapped his head “... but...” he tapped his heart and said no more.





No comments:

Post a Comment

Feel free to leave any comments about the project - but be aware I won't be taking suggestions, requests or feedback on the content or style of writing - I want to write what I want free of any one else's issues.