Dominion

First Dinner

Timon stands in the kitchen watching the sun drop over the ocean while MaryAnn lies out on her chair, catching the last minutes of daylight. Their kids all play around her, digging up sand to form a castle. The ocean darkens as the sun falls, and at the far end of the sky, they can see the moon overhead, ready to take the sun's place.
    Timon hears Phineas chopping wood behind the house and finds himself wondering about his father's old age. He puzzles over how long Phineas expects to be able to chop wood for himself out here before he needs an assistant—or to move back to the states. Of course, he has the money for the assistant if that is what he wants. Though, it seems like a lonely future.
    A warm fire burns in the living room. Timon sits on the couch facing the fire wearing a blue sweater he has never worn before. The flame throws an orange glow around the room. Phineas enforces a rule against using electric lighting until nightfall to conserve power in the generator.
    Canvassing the room, Timon spots a liquor cabinet he hasn't noticed before. It is elegant, like China cabinets in any grandparents' home, and positioned beside a window near the door. He can see through the glass doors the cabinet is well stocked. Timon turns away but soon finds himself investigating the cabinet again.
    Timon remembers a family discussion when he was young. Phineas vowed to Timon and his mother he would never drink again. The sight makes him feel betrayed, but also thirsty. He has, for so long, abstained from alcohol because of its power over him. To him, it became a chemical that his body needed—or else he would feel weak and sick. Even after he stopped drinking, the feeling remained like the weight of an abandoned dream. A section of himself is missing, left behind like those memories of his father. He feels these elements regaining the ground they had lost in some emotional, self-defining civil war so many years ago.
    He rises from his chair and opens the cabinet, exposing an array of expensive liquor. Timon probes the bottles, finding scotch whiskey, vodka, and even a large jar with a crude homemade label reading "moonshine."
    He notices all the bottles are factory sealed except for a quarter empty bottle of whiskey. He picks it up and twists off the cap. Without hesitation, Timon takes a long drink from it. The taste comforts him, but also sends him recoiling. He stumbles to the kitchen, still carrying the bottle, and pours a cup of juice for himself. He checks out the window to make sure his wife and kids are still occupied. They are nowhere in sight. He takes another large gulp of whiskey and chases it with the juice in almost the same motion. Then he twists the cap on and places it back in the cabinet, closing the door just as his family comes in from the beach. They wipe their feet on the floor mat and walk into the kitchen without noticing him.
    He can hear them all laughing and talking in the other room.
     "Okay, go wash up in the shower. I'll make some food," MaryAnn says.
    The children all agree and head toward the bathroom. They round the corner and see Timon standing awkwardly in the middle of the dining room.
    "Are you okay, Dad?" Jack asks.
    "I'm fine."
    The children study him.
     "Is that your dad in there?" MaryAnn calls out from the kitchen.
     "I'm comin'," Timon answers her.
     He walks off past the kids and into the kitchen, feeling like a werewolf changing form. His stomach rumbles as if pleading, "What is this horrible liquid?"
     MaryAnn stands over a counter wearing a yellow dress she had pulled over her swimsuit. Her hair is tied in a bun above her head, while she chops carrots on a cutting board.
     "I heard what happened with Phineas," she says without looking back at him.
Timon stands drunkenly, trying to figure out what she is talking about.
     "Jack told me. Maybe you should try and work it out. It would make our stay a lot more pleasant."
     "Okay, baby."
     She carries on chopping and preparing food. Timon grabs the bottle from the cabinet and wanders out the front door into the sand.

▶︎◎◀︎

    An idea comes to Jack as they all shower together in their swimsuits.
     "We should go in the jungle tomorrow," he suggests as he washes shampoo from his hair. "Like that episode of Adventure Rhyme? When they go into the jungle and meet that gorilla?"
     "We have to bring Mom or Dad, remember?" Havel says, rubbing a bar of soap over his chest. "What if they don't wanna go?"
    "We could go alone," Jack insists.
     "I don't want to," Marie says, sitting on the shower floor.
     Jack rolls his eyes at her.
    "You don't have to. Me and Havel could go without you."
     "Come on, Jack. We could get in trouble," Havel says with soap bubbles in his hair.
     "We are going to check it out eventually, with or without them," Jack says with a smile, "and if they don't know we went, what's the problem?"
     Marie evaluates Jack—she is unamused. Jack turns to Havel and his beam fades.
     "If you don't, I swear you'll regret it," Jack spits at Havel, who flinches instinctually.
    Havel looks to Marie. She shakes her head in the negative. He sighs.
    "Fine, Jack. I'll go."
     "Boys are so stupid," Marie says, standing and walking out of the shower.
    "I'm telling Mom."
     Jack bursts out of the shower and grabs Marie by her arm. He slips on the wet floor, bringing them both crashing to the ground.
     "What happened? Is everyone okay?" MaryAnn says through the door. She must have heard them from the kitchen.
     Jack forces his hand over Marie's mouth.
     "We are fine. I just fell," Jack says.
     "Okay, dinner will be ready soon."
     Jack holds Marie down and gawks at her.
     "Don't you even think about it⹅"
     Tears run down Marie's temples, and Jack releases her. She stands quickly, wraps herself in a towel, and sits on the closed toilet, wiping the tears as they come. Havel steps out of the shower and hugs his sister.
     "You didn't have to do that, Jack," Havel says.
     "You are both a couple of pansies," Jack replies as he pulls a towel around his back.
     "Better than a bully," Marie says.