“The more you try to squeeze the toxicity out of someone, the more their poison is soaked up by you.”― Christine E. Szymanski
The time was almost fourteen hundred when the front door opened. Javier’s attention drew away from Malcolm’s bookshelf. Even Connor diverted his attention from the cartoon to scream, “Momma!”
Javier finally peered his head around the hallway entrance to see Meryl closing the door. Wearing her brunette hair in a ponytail and her purple scrubs; she was happy to see Connor but puzzled to see Javier.
Connor sprang off the couch and did a pitiful run to his mother. Javier approached Meryl with his hands in his pockets. She remained standing and tussled the boy’s hair as he embraced her leg.
Javier finally chimed. “You’re having an interesting day…”
She laughed. “I thought that was your truck I saw outside! I’d hug you but I’ve been dealing with elderly.” Looking at Connor “How’s my little man been?”
Connor cooed in response.
Javier boasted. “He’s got good tastes!”
Her eyes rolled. “Oh God, what’s Mal subjected him to?” She began to walk to the living room with Connor glued to her leg.
“I’m afraid you got me to blame for this one.” Javier responded.
“Batman?” she halted when she stepped inside.
Javier shrugged. “What? He’s a good role model for kids.”
Meryl shrugged too. “Oh, I don’t have a problem with it! It’s just that Mal’s into Spider-Man; so, I figure you turning Connor onto the competition might mount to a ‘religious debate’ once the boy is a teenager.”
Javier raised his hand. “If anything, I wouldn’t put him on the Nolan Trilogy yet.”
Meryl waved him down. “Still wouldn’t be a problem if you did. He’s not gonna remember it; plus, I wouldn’t ask you to watch ‘Little Einstein’ with him.”
Javier glanced at the DVD sets. “Ya know? I saw those over there… starting his education early?”
“Mal insisted.”
“You’re reluctant?” Javier asked.
“I am a little worried about him. I can’t help but feel like he should know more words than who Mal and I are…The doctors say there’s nothing wrong but he’s so quiet most of the time. He makes noises when he’s hungry or really, happy.”
Javier guffawed. “He’s one, Meryl.”
She shook her head. “You weren’t there when he was born. He didn’t cry, still doesn’t…He was the angriest baby you’ve ever seen; the nurses were shocked. And once he settled, it was silent; not a peep.”
Javier pursed his lips. “Ya know, most parents would kill to not have to get up in the middle of the night to take care of a crying baby.”
Meryl flashed her brows. “Yea well, when the nurses are weirded out, you’re weirded out.”
“So, how’d my boy take it?” Javier wondered.
“Mal? He crawled into the ER bed with me! I thought he was gonna kill the doctor just so he could stay the night, hell, I thought he was gonna kick all the nurses out while I was giving birth.”
“See?” Javier stated. “You’re the only person on earth concerned for the boy’s brain.”
Her eyes rolled again. “Believe me, Mal’s the overprotective one. Did you know he blocked the children’s networks?”
“I didn’t browse the channel guide for too long.”
Meryl laughed. “Yea, well he insists that he’s ‘scouted’ for appropriate kid’s shows and that they’re mostly ‘pandering’. He wants Connor watching what we all saw growing up so he can, ‘appropriately decipher the bullshit.”
Javier laughed. “And that means WHAT exactly?”
Meryl let out a pause before her eyes went to the top of her head. “Something about the differences between writers who are solely subjected to supplying demands versus writers who get to say what they want, to who they need to, and with whatever subtext is necessary…”
Javier looked hang dogged. “What?”
Meryl pleasantly sighed. “…According to Mal, most TV networks have entered a late stage of Capitalism where the overabundance of products and I.P.s over time, coupled with the needs of meeting the demands of consumers, led to what is the Law of Diminishing Utility. Essentially, the more you have of something, the worse the average version of said thing becomes. Mal’s talked about how this can apply to Media, Music, and even populations! Which I had to tell him sounded proto-fasci, to which he started another diatribe about how he stops Islamic fascists in the Middle East for a living...
Anyway, um…He then went back to the economic theory, and from there he managed to propel it into a comparison to this…sci-fi table-top game that he’s been obsessed with for the past two months. I forget the name of it, but he basically goes off about how one day, Diminishing Utility will apply to history itself and the value of life will diminish into nothing. Before he even continued his rant, he stuttered and then emphasized that ‘value is subjective’, Connor and I mean more to him than the existence of civilization. So, I kissed him and said, ‘Go on.’ After which, thank God, he finally brought it back to the kids’ networks…
…In their infancy, he believed that the writers had creative liberties because of the untapped market. Now that a few have monopolized kids’ programming, they’ve become corporate powerhouses who want to play it safe for the parents rather than teach the kids anything.” She fluttered her eyes after finally finishing her explanation.
Javier forgot to blink the entire time. “You’ve just scrambled my brain like fucking egg…” he deadpanned.
Meryl laughed. “Sorry. It’s the best I can translate. Goddamn I want a beer. You want a beer?” Motioning him into the kitchen after she detached Connor from her leg. The boy’s limbs peeled off like a starfish.
“One more’s not gonna get me pulled over.” He followed. “How longed it take for you to speak Nelson?”
“Well, he was shy when we first started talking. On Date One, he blossomed and couldn’t keep quiet. Literally thought I was dealing with another person for a moment.”
Javier nodded and winced. “So, he doesn’t talk like that after…you know…”
“Oh, dear me, no! Mal’s got more sense than that…Speaking of which,” she began to walk away from the refrigerator. “Where is Mal?”
Javier scratched his head. “Yea, he’s doing something right now…he brought me over to watch the boy, but he actually didn’t say anything about you coming home early so I’ve been improvising…”
Meryl grinned. “Now if this were a movie, I’d suspect your covering up for his mistress.”
Javier laughed. “Mal? A mistress?”
“Yea, I know!” Meryl laughed too. “Do you want me to leave?”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask that! I was kinda hoping he’d wrap it up.”
“Well, I can tell I’m not meant to know about it yet.” She chugged the last of her beer and set it on the counter, letting out a burp. “I’ll make myself scarce. Friends at work were going to a bar and grill anyway. Besides, it’s good for Connor to spend time with his godfather.” She smiled as she took a step back to the living room.
“Maybe don’t eat any appetizers…”
She looked at him, then at the stove. “Mal’s cooking?”
“I really can’t tell you, but your gonna want an empty stomach.”
She nodded and said, “Okay then.”
But her turning around was interrupted by the turn and swing of a door. The sound of it shutting was all that permeated the room as Javier’s eyes sank deep into his sockets; he wanted to blind himself to what he saw. Only Connor cooing, “DADA!”, reminded them that it was not a stranger who stood before them.
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Malcolm stood with swollen eyes behind a mask of crimson red. His toned body glistened in the reflected light underneath the blood coat. All that he bore on his skin besides the red, was the pathetic pair of briefs he had purchased in a set to please Meryl; now ruined as the stains ran down to Malcolm’s toes. He was dripping on the floor, by the strands of his hair, and was forming a shallow drizzle on the floor.
“Honey!” Malcolm exclaimed. He scared the room when he walked to her. “Your home early!” he said while he wrapped his arms around her. Squeezing the bewilderment which poured through her eyes. Meryl did not have time to feel anxiety, or fear, only the perpetual confusion which lagged in the forefront of her mind. She returned the hug, just barely.
Javier watched, masking his aghast feelings. The sweetness of what he saw was that of pancakes drizzled in vinegar. Malcolm finally parted from his hug and was tempted to top it off with a kiss, until he noticed the look in Meryl’s speechless expression. He took a step back and reached over the counter for a roll of paper towels, after which he began to wipe off his lips and chin. Meryl stood still just after Malcolm’s stickiness detached from her clothes; it was shared across her scrubs.
“Dada!” Connor cried again from the couch in the living room.
Malcolm slanted his figure to look at his son. “Javi, you got my kid watching Batman?” he asked as he tore another long paper roll for his head.
“Well…” Javier looked at his shoes. “I thought ‘South Park’ would be too inappropriate…and I didn’t want to watch ‘Yo-Gabba-Gabba’…” he spoke as he faced Malcolm who was in the process of patting his hair down.
“Like I’d let my kid watch that crap!” he guffawed. “And for your information…this is a Marvel household! I catch you subjecting him to ‘Star Wars’ before I have a chance to get him hooked on ‘Dune’, I might have to reconsider our friendship.” Malcolm gave a sly grin.
“Yea, I keep forgetting you’re not a Trekkie…” Javier did his best to make light of the situation.
Malcolm waved a finger. “An honorable choice but the Federation doesn’t beat th-“
“Malcolm…” Meryl finally spoke, breaking the pulsating tension in Javier. “Um… Javi? Could you take Connor upstairs?”
“Uh, yea.” Without skipping a beat Javier was making his way past them into the living room. He lifted Connor off the couch and led him by the hand down the hall. As his footsteps reverberated on the staircase, Meryl finally returned to her senses and began to blink. Malcolm stood there awkwardly; he was waiting for her to break the tension.
“Look…” he scratched his head, “…I thought you weren’t getting off until eight…”
“…The hospital was overstaffed…” her response was quite monotone.
“Really? I thought with Ebola and all that shit you’d be-“
“It’s not even a pandemic…Malcolm, you just ruined my clothes!”
He scanned her, visibly contemplating his words. “They’re scrubs…”
“That’s it?”
“You already go through them…You’re around fluids all the time.”
“That’s not the point! What are you doing?!”
“…I wanted to prepare dinner for our anniversary…Fresh…” His eyes bulged on the last word.
Meryl rubbed her face with both palms. “How?!”
“I ordered a Lamb from the Himalayas…You said you loved lamb when we went to that Indian Restaurant.”
“Malcolm. Our anniversary was last Month!”
He winced. “The day we got that bullshit contract from the state to sanction our affair on the condition that we copulate for Uncle Sam?”
“Our marriage is bullshit?!”
“No!” Malcolm held his hands out to her. “We started dating on April Twenty-Ninth, Twenty-Twelve. Remember?”
“Of COURSE, I remember! Malcolm…do you even see the point here!?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise…”
“Well…You accomplished THAT!” She wanted to fold her arms at him but remembered the stains. “How does an ‘anniversary present’ turn our garage into a slaughterhouse?!”
“…I didn’t want to go through a chef.”
“I guarantee you; they’ll wear an apron!”
Malcolm looked back and forth. “I wasn’t gonna take the briefs off with Javier and Connor in the house. And I didn’t want to waste money on something that I’d just ruin….”
“You thought to ruin our garage!?”
Malcolm started to stammer. “I- draped everything in Saran Wrap and have it…I was gonna funnel it into the central drain…I placed a bucket beneath him.”
“Him?” she winced.
“The Lamb…” Malcolm kept eye contact. “…preparing a female would’ve felt weird…”
Meryl wanted to rip her temples. “Well, Darkly Dreaming Dexter, I guess that’s supposed to be comforting?!”
“I-I wouldn’t-“ His black eyes glistened.
“Malcolm…. I don’t really care about my scrubs…CONNOR SAW YOU!” She watched his jaw hang and quiver. “IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE FACT, HE CAN’T REMEMBER THIS SHIT…”
Her fists clenched, she felt sorry, she saw Malcolm could hardly contain himself. Biting back her own tears, she didn’t even know what she would do. She looked back at Malcolm. “I’m taking a shower…and then I’m taking Connor with me to happy hour. I was going to go there anyway when Javier told me you were busy…”
“I-I thought I heard you-“
“So, you didn’t wipe down?!”
The only thing that was down, was Malcom’s chin. Meryl sighed, “I have to let Javi out. Just…please be clean when I get back…” there was so much more to say but she could not bear it. She spun around and made her way through the living room.
“Meryl?” his voice called.
She turned around. “What?”
“What do you want to do with it? The…Lamb?”
“Malcolm, Jesus!”
“I don’t know what you want me to do…It’s ready to start cooking…”
A sigh. “…Just do what you will, Mal…I’ll probably be sleeping down here tonight…” And she left it at that. Heading up the stairs, she paused at the top. The door to Connor’s room was ajar; she made her way over and peered inside. Connor was running around as Javier sat at the center, entertaining the boy.
“Hey…” she smiled awkwardly.
“Don’t mind me, I didn’t see or hear nothing.”
“Mama!” Connor cooed when he finally noticed her. He started to run to the door but was intercepted by Javier.
“I’m sure you’ve already been bathed you little rascal!” he said.
“Thanks, Javi. Could you just put him in his crib before you go? I’ll get him later.”
“Sure, no problem.”
She wanted to thank him again but sauntered back down the hallway into her room for a dreadfully stagnant shower. She emerged after ten minutes into the bedroom and dressed in a set of dark-blue tight jeans and a dark misfit T-shirt matched with a leather jacket. Javier was long gone but Connor thankfully, was wide awake in his crib. He let out another coo and held his arms out for her as she lifted him. She quickly seated Connor in the carriage which was positioned in the backseat of her Red Focus and was reversing out the driveway.
The time was four-ten when she arrived at a local steakhouse. She pulled into a spare parking space and took Connor with her through the front doors. Meryl met the hostess and asked about a table under the name, ‘Sherry’. She was then directed to a corner roundtable occupied with four other women from the hospital. From left to right sat Maggie, an EMT nurse with half her black hair in a ponytail and the rest disheveled to her side. Sheryl, the closest of the group to becoming a doctor herself. Rebecca, a ginger-haired receptionist who, like Meryl, put her career progress on hold to start a family. And Gabriella, a doctor’s assistant who needed a night out after several hours in the surgery room.
Meryl sat next to Gabriella and Connor’s was placed by her right side. Everyone was already enjoying an appetizer of bloom and onions along with their own round of draft beers.
“Merry!” Sheryl broke off her diatribe with the group. “And you brought your little clone!”
Meryl parted her hair and glanced at Connor who looked perplexed. “If he’s a clone, he’s Mal’s. I just provided the ovaries.”
“Oh, stop it! You literally created something, and you still provided the…”
“Provided what?” Meryl was curious.
“The mitochondria.”
“The mito-“ Meryl cupped her face. “Sherry, shut the fuck up.”
“What? We all get it from our mothers. It regulates development. And if you’re anything to marvel at, which you are, he’ll grow from a beautiful baby to a fine young man.”
A young server came to the table. “Can I just get a shot of jaeger?” Meryl asked.
“What? We’ve already ordered, honey. You’re not hungry?” Maggie asked.
“No, I am…it’s just that I’ve got dinner with Mal tonight…I guess.”
“Wait, you guess?”
“It’s complicated…”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about home!” Gabriella exclaimed. “How’s things with that husband of yours?”
Meryl’s shot of Jaeger arrived on a single tray. She thanked her server as she was dipping an onion. She then placed her fingers over the shot glass and drummed the ridge; she then gulped the shot of Jaeger. “…I was…suspicious, but now….’
“Don’t tell me that son-of-a-bitch is cheating on you!” Maggie interrupted.
“Oh no! Not Mal. He still doesn’t know how he’s with me, let alone how he’d be with another woman.”
“Well, in my experience, men like that have got a hole they’re trying to fill.”
Meryl gave a slight laugh. “He once told me that he’d rather kill himself than deliberately risk losing me…I talked to him about how that’s inappropriate. Which literally brings me back to the matter…”
“So, what the hell did he do?” Sherry asked.
Meryl shook her head. “...Look, this doesn’t leave the table, okay? I don’t think less of him for it, but we probably need to get him screened…I was suspicious, when I met him, but I never brought it up. You may not have seen this, but Mal is either talking to the point that his eyes are gasping with him, or he’s that kid sitting in a corner at a party. There were moments when I thought he was just manic…Mal’s always been an emotional person, I mean…I told you how he talked to the Doctors when I went into labor. I know he loves me, possibly more than he does Connor, and he’d never deliberately hurt us. But that might be the problem! Everything between us is in Connor now; I’m not unconvinced that Malcolm wouldn’t say, ‘let’s make another,’ if the worst happened to him.”
Sheryl reached a hand across the table. “He’s in the Army, Merry. You know what these people see; they get desensitized out there.”
Meryl waved a finger. “That’s what I concluded with my labor incident. I kept coming back to that for a while now; I hear when he tangents about the Army, and I don’t think he truly feels a part of them. It…seems to me like they just offer a simple purpose that makes sense for him; I think that’s the reason he’s so good at it. But he’s coming home and having to balance how they tell him to see the world with civilian life; their concept of normality is completely warped. I can tell he never asked to be like this, but I think there’s a genuine lack of awareness that’s always been there...I think Malcolm might have autism.”