The Uncalled-For Incipiency
“Solitaire.”
It was his father.
Solitaire looked up from the spinning CD in front of him, anxious and curious at the same time. It was not long before he’d seen and heard his father break the mirror to pieces, stormed off the room and gone for hours. His mother kept herself at bay, smiling dismissively as if she’d just seen a very usual daily activity, like his father going out for work. Nothing in her eyes indicated that she’d minded his father’s actions, but Solitaire still could see the hurt and anger flashing. Although she continued to go through the day easily, the boy knew these conflicting, indecisive days would be their darkest times.
He wondered if his father had seen his mother first before him. Did they make up? What about Madeleine? Surely his father thought more of her, for she’s the one more attached to him. She was daddy’s little girl after all, and Solitaire was just … there. He’s last priority to his father, and he never minded.
The man in front of him was looking ghastly, messy and unfocused, so different than the father he’d known. Solitaire didn’t dare to wonder where he’d gone, but something in the way his father was carrying himself made his stomach churn. He’d never thought he’d be this intimidated by the man that helped brought him to life.
Nobody said anything for what seemed like eternity; Halryannell was standing on the doorframe, eyes darted on the floor but wandered somewhere else, while Solitaire was absentmindedly flipping through his muggle book. The silence was deafening, and he didn’t feel anywhere comfortable around his father. Every second made his anxiety burn in his chest; sweat started to prick his neck, but he didn’t dare to start speaking before his father did. So, he had no choice but to wait.
And in this case, waiting was the worst.
Slowly—though the movement still made Solitaire flinch slightly—his father walked into the room and closed the door behind him. His tall figure was nothing like his son; Solitaire was very slim and timid, although he always stood straight and confident, something in him made him look unmistakably forgettable. His father, on the other hand, was rising with elegance and pride; his shoulder was broad, eyes always looking so sure, and everything screamed intimidating. Solitaire quietly wondered to himself if he’d ever made anybody feel intimidated by his presence, and thought that it’d be very unlikely. He’s merely a shadow, while his father was a stubborn cliff on the sea.
“I hate to make you feel this way, you and Maddy.” Halryannell started, now sitting beside his son on the other side of the bed. “I want you to know that your mum and I have been in a … rocky place, and I’m very sorry that you both had to see what we did.” This time, Halryannell turned to his son and looked him in the eye. It’s as if he’s almost pleading. “I’m very, very sorry.”
Solitaire felt his throat dry. It was so strange to hear his father talk to him like this. It was so alien, that he couldn’t say or do anything as a response. He just stared at his father blankly.
Halryannell ran a hand through his hair, chuckled sadly. “Truth be told, I felt like I was the 16-year-old prick I used to be. I reckon you knew about your mother and my little … ventures, to be together?”
Solitaire nodded at this, and truth be told, the story was actually what shaped him into he was today.
“I have to admit, Solitaire, that I was never very good to your mother. I even purposely did many things to hurt her, to push her away from me.”
Why is he telling me this? Solitaire thought, puzzled.
“I did many unspeakable things to hurt her, yet—” he choked at the last word, looking really frustrated before closing his eyes and buried his face on his hands.
Solitaire felt odd. Obviously, he was not used to seeing this version of the man he’d conjured as untouchable and strong and very proud and everything that his father was—or should have been.
Beyond those hurtful words and actions, however, Solitaire did believe that his father loved his mother so very much. It was unquestionably clear as day and he’s sure the whole world agreed with him. So, if his father came to say what he thought he’d say, Solitaire really didn’t want to be there when he did.
“It’s okay,” he spoke up, surprising his father to look up. “You both are frustrated, and it’s okay. I don’t really want to push on the matter, on where we’re actually going or when. I don’t know, and that’s okay. I’ll just go back to school as usual. Nothing’s changed.”
Before Halryannell opened his mouth, his son cut him off. “And I know that no matter what you did to mum, you did it because you loved her.”
The words left his mouth with something felt like … acid. It stung and was bitter at the same time, and he didn’t want it to be so. He wanted himself to be sure that everything would be okay eventually, that this was how his parents dealt with disagreements and conflicts and negative energies. It’s going to be okay, no matter how many times he had to see his father break more things at home or his mother curse and hold grudges.
Halryannell looked at him meticulously, and Solitaire didn’t cower under his gaze. It’s the first time he did that, and the boy felt an odd pride pulsing underneath his shirt.
“What did you feel when you see us fighting?” asked his father, rewarding a quizzical look from the son. “I just want to know how you feel about it, son.”
Solitaire thought his answer for more than needed, because his mind was scrambled by the fact that his father had asked him about how he felt. What’s really going on here? What’s the scheme? Is this my birthday, and somehow this is Maddy’s sick way of surprising me?
Halryannell waited patiently as his son fidgeted a little when asked. He couldn’t possibly know or even realize that it was actually the first time he’d asked it. It still slipped as trivial little thing for a man with many things.
“I … I felt … weird,” Solitaire finally spoke, in a whispered sound. “I guess, the image of you and mum shattered with the mirror.” He wasn’t totally lying, though, because he actually believed it did.
He’s given a look of hurt and horror in his father’s eyes that mirrored his own, but it was gone as soon as it came. Solitaire sighed.
“I’m very sorry,” Halryannell repeated. “Would you forgive me?”
Solitaire thought for a moment. Suddenly, the image of him throwing his CDs off and breaking his own mirror into pieces pierced him like a thunder. It came to him: he was his father. He also got angry, became violent when tickled by anger. He’d never actually thrown harsh and hurtful words to a person, or at least he thought so, and he’s sure it’s far less mean than his father’s words. He’d never even touch a person violently—he hated physical contact; surely it made him better than his father, right …? Regardless, once this realization dawned on him, his heart sunk, and he wanted to scream so loudly until he’s voiceless.
“Yeah, it’s okay, Dad.” He swallowed hard and returned to the book he’d been reading. “I already know you’re a fire—or a ticking bomb, perhaps—and someday, it will explode.”
“No, son. I just, sometimes I—” Solitaire cut him off again. He was actually really surprised that he could do that.
“I know, Dad. I said it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything more to change my mind.“ He sighed heavily. Thoughts filling his head like a buzzing bee, and he felt electricity running through his veins, and chest, and stomach. It’s making him sick. “Would you please leave me alone?”
Was that an outburst? Solitaire couldn’t even tell anymore.
Halryannell looked at his son thoughtfully, and although Solitaire might have missed it, he looked longing, as if wanted to prolong the conversation just because it’s the longest one they had. The older man’s insides were aching, realizing that whatever had happened was partly (or greatly?) due to his own carelessness and uncontrollable rage. They’d never actually been in this position, so perhaps it was his defence mechanism that ruined everything.
Glancing sideways and finding that his father didn’t move, Solitaire gritted his teeth as to keep his composure. It was hard enough to deal with the man when everything was perfectly fine; he didn’t need more difficulties to prove otherwise. The boy shifted uncomfortably and refused to ask his father one more time, as it would require him to speak more, and he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to sound demanding or angry, yet it’s the only language he could speak right now.
He just wished somebody would barge in and take that man away.
“May I ask you a question?” His father spoke again, softly this time, without looking at him.
Solitaire nodded slightly.
“What happened, Solitaire?” Halryannell turned to him.
“What do you mean?”
“What happened to you and me?”
He didn’t understand the question right away, because nothing actually ever happened.
“Nothing.”
His father smiled sadly. “Exactly,” he said, then sighed. “I always feel like you’re distancing yourself especially from me. Is that really what you do?”
Solitaire looked away. Was this really necessary, a heart-to-heart conversation with the man he’d been keeping himself away for a very long time? Why had he, though, exactly? Why was it so hard to just be still, listen, speak, or do anything when his father was around—to act normally?
His chest suddenly tightened; his mouth dry. He couldn’t deal with this right now. However, as expectant as he was to the anxiety or panic that might overcome (he’s used to it by now, and was pretty sure that this was one of the situations that could trigger the attack), he couldn’t feel anything coming. Apart from his chest and mouth, everything inside him was perfectly in place. He didn’t sweat acid, his stomach didn’t churn, his head was spinning all right, but only due to the surprise question. His heart beat louder, but constantly. What’s actually happening?
A hand rested on his shoulder, making him jump slightly in surprise. When he looked up, he saw a very tired man, looking at him sadly yet understandingly. Those hazel eyes reflected his own, and Solitaire could very well see himself swimming in it. An odd rush ran through his veins, so strangely intimate.
“I want you to know that I’m very sorry, and that I love you just as much as I love your sister. Please don’t forget that, okay?”
Solitaire nodded blankly; eyes still consumed by his father’s.
With a stroke on his son’s hair, Halryannell smiled once more and got up to leave.
What on earth just happened?