#21:00

[purewasteland]

not like it's a spoiler at this point.

[kitaplarinicindeyasayankiz]

Ben sizin kalbinizi yarıp bakamam ama yaptığınız şeyde blöf, manipüle ve yalan varsa size karşı sunduğum iyi niyetimin hesabını Allah sorsun. Çünkü yaptığınız şey karşılığında oturup da "hatam ne, nerede yanlış yapıyorum, ben kötü bir insan mıyım" diye saatlerce düşünüp kendimi sorguluyorsam bu da benim hakkıma girmektir.

[yelkenlerforaa]

[glimmerofawesome]

[sadece-huzun]

Duisburg için iftar vakti ..Allah kabul etsin..hayırlı iftarlar bana 😊😋🥰

[thrash--particle]

[iamakiller]

Zoom call with Henry

Today, Mom talks with Dad for ages. She makes Henry leave the room like always, ordering him to go play, and she closes the door behind him.  As if that ever stops Henry from being able to hear everything she says.  She always talks in such a loud voice to Dad.

But today, her voice is really quiet.  Even with his ear pressed flat against the door, the only words he can make out are right at the end of the conversation: “I just don’t want you to tell him yet, Charlie.  We both know what you’re like.  He’ll only be disappointed.”

Henry knows she’s talking about him, but he doesn’t understand what she means.

When Mom opens the door again, he’s sitting in the middle of the hallway with his colored pencils and sketchpad, deeply engrossed in his latest masterpiece.

“Henry? Do you want to talk to Dad?”

Henry’s heart leaps with excitement.  He tears off the page he’s been working on and brings it with him, leaving the rest of his mess on the floor.  He bounds into the office and climbs into the comfy leather chair, wiggling around until he’s comfortable.  His feet almost but not quite touch the ground. Grandma said the other day that he’ll be as tall as Dad soon, and Mom gave her a look that Henry didn’t get.

There’s a lot he doesn’t understand sometimes.  Grownups are strange, he thinks.  Especially his parents.

“Hi Dad!”

“Hello, Henry.”  Dad’s little smile is the same as ever, but he looks tired today.  The same kind of tired as when he was sleeping on the couch, when him and Mom thought Henry didn’t know.  “How are you today?”

“GOOD!” Henry happily rattles off a list of all the fun things he did.  A playdate at the park with Josh.  Frozen yogurt on the way home.  Helping to bake cookies to take to Grandma’s tomorrow.  Mom even let him lick the spoon because he’d done such a good job of measuring out the ingredients without making a mess.  The only dark spot on the horizon is the bath that Mom has been threatening him with since this morning, but Henry thinks he can probably sweet-talk her into an hour of video games if he goes without protest, so it’s not all bad.  

He has to take a big gulp of air at the end, because he’s forgotten to breathe in his excitement to tell Dad everything all at once.  “How about you, Dad?  It’s late there, right?  Did you and Britt do something fun today?  Is she there?  Can I talk to her?”

Something weird happens.  Dad flinches, like Henry does when Mom catches him doing something he knows he shouldn’t do.  But when he starts talking, it’s completely normal.  “Britt’s not here, honey.  We were both very busy doing different things today.  She’s been … planning something.  And I’ve been working on my writing.  Well, trying to.”

Dad picks up a funny-shaped glass of something red, and takes a long swig of it.  He told Henry once that it’s grape juice for adults.  Henry asked Mom about it afterwards, and she said something about Dad being just like his parents.  But that can’t be right, because Dad doesn’t have any parents.  That’s why Henry only has one grandma, right?

Dad likes to write like Henry likes to draw.  It’s his favorite thing to do, and he does it a lot. Henry can sit silently so much better than any of his friends, because he learned very early on that if he could be still and quiet, he could sit with his dad for as long as he wanted to.  He loves visiting Dad in New York.  Going out and doing a million different activities is so much fun!  But the best times are when they’re in Dad’s study, and Henry is sprawled out on the rug with his pencils and sketchpad, doodling whatever comes into his imagination.  He likes hearing the sound of Dad’s fingers flying over the laptop keyboard, and the way he occasionally mutters to himself while he thinks.  And he really likes the way Dad will often close his laptop with a frustrated sigh, and come sit on on the floor next to Henry, and listen to him talk for hours about whatever he’s been working on.

Speaking of which, Henry has something he wants to show him. “Dad, look!  I drew this for you!”  He holds up the picture he finished only moments ago.

Dad peers at the screen, makes an impatient sound, and then reaches off to the side, retrieving his glasses and putting them on.  For a moment, he tilts his head to one side, and then the other.  “Why don’t you talk me through it,” he suggests eventually, his voice very kind.

Henry huffs.  Isn’t it obvious? Dad must have really bad eyesight.  Probably because he’s so old. “This is you,” he says, pointing at the tallest figure, who has very long legs.  “You’re wearing black, of course.” He points to the next largest person, with long hair.  “This is Britt.  She’s wearing her favorite big cardigan.  And in the middle, it’s me.”

Dad nods slowly and appreciatively.  “Very nice.  Your grasp of proportions is improving, and everyone has the correct number of fingers this time.  But can you explain why we are surrounded by so many dinosaurs?”

“Because we’re at the Museum of Natural History!”  It’s Henry’s favorite place in New York, aside from Dad’s study, and maybe that pizza place they go to every time he visits.

“Ah. Of course.  Silly me.  And … what is that strange looking dinosaur in the middle between you and Britt?”

Henry rolls his eyes.  “DAD!” he complains.  “That’s not a dinosaur!  That’s the baby!”

There’s a spluttering sound as Dad, who is halfway through another mouthful of his “juice”, begins to choke.  “W-what?” he stutters eventually, grabbing a tissue and wiping frantically at the front of his sweater.

This is it.  Henry’s big chance.  

“Well … Josh’s Mom had a baby during lockdown.  She brought it to the park today and it was so cute, and Josh says it’s annoying and cries all night, but I think he’s just jealous because HE still wants to be the baby, and I actually think it would be really fun to be a big brother, so I asked Mom but she said absolutely not, so basically you and Britt should have a baby so I can play with it and teach it all about dinosaurs and show it how to read and write and draw.” 

Henry runs completely out of steam at the end of his big speech, and has to take another of his massive gasps of air as he’s started to feel a bit lightheaded.

Just for a moment, there’s a strange expression on Dad’s face.  He almost looks sad.  But then he’s smiling again, although he still looks tired.  “Now, Henry.  That’s rather a big ask.  There’s an awful lot more to take into account than you wanting a sibling, I’m afraid.”

“But Dad – I asked Mom where babies come from, and she said that when a man and a woman love each other very much, they can have a baby.  And you and Britt love each other very much, right?  So you can have a baby, RIGHT?  By Christmas would be great.  It can be my present, instead of a replacement for the Nintendo Switch I lost last time I was there.”

Dad is laughing now.  Properly laughing, like he hardly ever does.  It’s hard to imagine how sad he looked a minute ago.  Maybe Henry just imagined it … “Henry, it takes an entire nine months for a baby to grow in a woman’s tummy.  Even if we were to acquiesce to your request immediately, there’s no way we could produce a baby by December.  Indeed, at the very most, Britt would merely be looking slightly round in the middle by Christmas …”  He tails off for a moment, as if lost in thought, with a little smile on his face.  But then he shakes his head slightly and continues talking.  “The answer’s no, honey.  You will get your new Nintendo Switch, and that Goose game you’ve been talking about nonstop, and you will be grateful.”

Henry pouts.  “BUT DAD …”

“No.”

Henry tries a different approach.  “I love you, Dad.  I miss you …”

“Nice try.”  Dad folds his arms across his chest.  “But that pout you wield originated with me, and you should know by now that it holds no power over me.  The answer’s still no.  However, I do love you an immense amount.  And I miss you. Very, very much.”

Dad looks a little bit sad again.  Henry feels sad now, too.  He really does miss him.  Mom is great, but Dad gives the best hugs.

Suddenly, Mom’s voice calls out from the hallway, loud enough for him and Dad to both hear. “Henry?  It’s getting late.  You need to finish up and take a bath before bedtime.”

NOOOOOOOO.  

Henry doesn’t want any hecking bath!  And he isn’t done talking, either.  He casts his mind around, trying to think of a way to stall for time.  Finally, something strange Dad said earlier comes back to him, and he decides to ask for further clarification.  “Dad? I have a question.”

He knows Dad knows that he’s stalling because Dad’s super smart.  But he also knows that he doesn’t mind.  He never wants their calls to end, either.  “Yes, honey?”

“How exactly does the baby get into the woman’s tummy?”

Dad’s eyes widen for a second.  Then he grins.  “Why don’t you ask your mother,” he suggests, voice loud enough for Mom to hear him from the hallway.  “She knows all about it.”

***

Twenty minutes later, Henry is wallowing in the bath.  It isn’t as bad as he thought it would be.  (It never is.)  Mom let him choose one of her Lush bath bombs, so the water is pink and sparkly, and covered in a thick layer of foam.  At least twelve of his dinosaur figurines have joined him for moral support.

As he lines them up along the side of the tub in alphabetical order, his mind wanders to something Mom shouted just as Dad finished the call.  What’s a bastard? he wonders.  She uses that word a lot when she talks about Dad.  

Mom said that when a man and a woman love each other very much, they can have a baby.  But Mom and Dad haven’t ever seemed to even like each other very much.  So Henry can’t help but wonder how he came to be.  Maybe Mom got it wrong, though that doesn’t seem likely.  Maybe Henry misunderstood.  That’s probably right.

There’s a lot he doesn’t understand sometimes.  Grownups are strange, he thinks.  

Especially his parents.

[olricingunlugu]

ben bu yoldan tek başıma da giderim ama derdim,sana yol kenarındaki çiçekleri göstermek...