Pseudology

Fifteen

EDITED 4/8/13

“You idiotic boy!”

There was a slap that sounded like thunder as it echoed around the dining room. Skin burned red and then pink. A hand tingled.

Morton sniffed quietly and parted his legs a little, steadying himself against the emotions that came in waves across the room. His eyes were locked onto his brother Adrian, who was standing parallel to Father; the older boy winced at his father raised his right hand again, coming down on Adrian like tainted, angry rain. It was as though Adrian was caught out in a thunder storm, and their father was the rain and thunder, soaking him and weighing him down again and again.

“What do you say to me?!”

“I am sorry, father.” Adrian’s voice was meek and quiet, his watery eyes locked on the polished floor. Morton wanted him- no, was desperate for him- to look up at him; Morton wanted to show reassurance, hold him and tell him that everything was alright, but he wasn’t sure that everything was alright. Without mummy, he wasn’t sure father was going to be alright, and without mummy, Morton was almost sure that Adrian and young Marvin would be alright either.

“Father-“

Morton stopped himself before he let his words slip out. Adrian’s head turned slowly in Morton’s direction and for a brief moment, their eyes met, but Adrian’s green irises darted away like startled cats and Morton returned his gaze to his fuming, beetroot-coloured father. Dressed in a sharp suit with neat, combed hair, Edward was every bit a business man. A ruthless business man, but a business man all the same, and for some time, Morton had grown to trust his father solely on his own interests in how his father ran a business. Ed had run the business well, therefore he was a good person, but Morton had realised that his father was a brute.

“Get out, Morton!” Father’s voice was boisterous and angry, tinted with a heaviness that wrapped itself around Morton’s feelings. The boy shivered and quickly exited the room, shutting the door carefully behind him as not to make too much noise: he didn’t want Adrian to be startled by the sudden slam, because his jumpiness would be another reason why father didn’t like him, and at thirteen, Morton was still desperate to protect his younger brother.

II

When Morton turned sixteen in 1998, a fourteen year old Adrian gave him a notepad. Marvin had been sitting patiently on Morton’s lap as the middle brother handed over a badly wrapped present; they were sitting in the library with the windows thrown open, with fresh air whirling around them and the sound of summer in their ears.

Morton’s face was glowing with a smile as he unwrapped the present, carefully turning the notepad in his hands. It was red leather with ‘MR’ imprinted on the corner; a nice personal touch, Morton thought, and he held his hand out to his brother. Adrian spread his fingers out like a fan and the tips brushed against Morton’s. It was a brief moment of touch but it made Morton feel happy inside, knowing that he could show his brother how much he cared without causing a Going Wrong moment: it was a step above everyone else, knowing how to deal with Adrian, and Morton couldn’t help but almost glow with pride. He’d beat everyone else- he knew  his brother.  

“Thank you, little brother.”

“I’m glad you like it, Morey.”

“What are you going to use it for?” whispered Marvin, who was just in the double-figures of age. “A diary?”

“Diary?!” Morton cried, pretending to be outraged to entertain Marvin. He could feel Adrian’s eyes searching his face, collecting information… he was trying to learn how to be funny, how to lie. “No, not a diary! I’ll use it for school, Marvin. Now, what have you got me?”

Marvin, his eyes sparkling, leapt from Morton’s lap and ran over to the table in the middle of the library, grabbing a poorly wrapped present and hurrying back over to the other two boys. Morton took the present and gently unwrapped it.

“A tie!” Morton smiled and cuddled his little brother lovingly- he could do that with Marvin, Marvin even enjoyed being touched. “Thank you Marvin.”

“Happy birthday.” Marvin replied, and Adrian whooped quietly, an honest grin spreading over his face; it made Morton’s insides warm as he watched both of his brothers interact, and he somehow knew everything was going to be alright.

III

Euphoria.

The sensation was all consuming; there was an ecstatic buzz which had spread over his body like warm water and he was light headed, his eyes unable to focus momentarily as he felt a wide, full smile cover his face, though he was sure that his mouth was numb… was it?

He straightened his back, feeling his coccyx ache as he pressed his spine against the back of the chair. His glinting eyes caught remnants of the cocaine, this incredible white powder, still clinging to the desk. His breath hitching, Adrian stuck a long, bony finger into his mouth and sucked it, lathering his digit in saliva, and very, very slowly, he dipped his finger in the remaining powder. Swirling it around his desk like a child, his smile spread from ear to ear as he placed the sticky, white coated finger into his mouth- were you supposed to taste it, or just snort it? 

All Adrian knew was that he couldn’t care less: this feeling, this absolutely fantastic feeling, was all he ever wanted to feel again.