Birds of A Cage

"Parasites Lost"

The air was heavy with the dampness of a coming storm. Grey carpeted the sky so completely that even at 4.00 p.m. the cars still needed full headlights and the streetlamps shone feebly into the perpetual twilight.

At the manor, it was quiet, unnaturally so. Even the usual leeches who spent their time around my uncles' home were indoors inaudibly trying to drown their misery in free liquor. I was always jealous of the people who drunk to drown their sorrows, the ones who used chemicals to run away. It did nothing for me.

Matthew was in his office leafing through a magazine. When I sat across from him, he closed the magazine, put it down and turned to me. "Why are you here today? You never willingly spend your free time at home anymore. Especially during the weekdays."

The gloom of the day was reflected in my mood. I was in terrible confusion; trapped in the clutches of memories, drifting. All my insecurities were floating to the surface.

"I needed to talk to you."

"About? Didn't you go to work today?"

"No."

"Do you want to smoke?"

"Sure."

He took a small satchel of tobacco from his desk tamping it into a pipe. He clamped the pipe between his teeth, struck a wooden match on the deck giving it time to burn back on the wood. Then hovering the match over the packed tobacco, he sipped pulling the flame inward. Grand puffs of smoke curled around his head.

He looked up at me. I saw then that he was also in a state of rage. I wanted to ask him what had happened. I wanted to know if it had anything to do with the family business, but I felt like the walls of the room was closing in on me. I had too much on my mind to care about anything else.

Matthew stood and looked outside the window with his back to me. He wasn't one to talk much, always the quiet type, and unless his input was needed you would never hear him say anything. When James first brought him to live at the manor, it was very annoying to me but as we grew closer I came to appreciate the silence. I had never met anyone as introspective as he was.

"Do you think that James taught us how to build detachment over everything around us until it was impossible to discern true connections?" I asked.

The question took him by surprise. Matthew raised an eyebrow for a moment before looking outside the window once more. Quietly, he contemplated the question.

"Why are you thinking about that?"

"I have to confess that I'm a little conflicted and that's why I came to see you today. Maybe you can help me figure things out."

He passed the cigar over to me. The smoke licked my fingerprints as a long pull filled my mouth with a bitter taste of artificial grape. A fix of nicotine on a bad day. A way to keep the bad thoughts at bay. He poured himself a glass from the half-open bottle of cognac on the desk. He drank it at a breath and sat against the wall which had been uncovered.

"Maybe for me. Not so much for you. I've always been jealous of how you connect with others, especially women." He looked questioningly at me. "Is this about the woman William mentioned? The one you've been keeping a secret from the family? The one you are hiding in your home?"

"Her name is Maria."

"I should have known something was happening." He smiled. "Lately, you look like a kid waking up on Christmas morning. What's she like?"

"Passionate. Fiery tempter. Unapologetic. Unlike anyone, I've met. When she came to stay with me, I had the perfect short-term plan. I thought I was just helping a woman in need. Someone who reminded me of my mother."