something to believe in part 3

“That sounds like the idea,” William would lie. “I wish just once I could have a night to relax, where I didn’t have to put in an appearance.” And then he would talk about his work. “Yeah, I don’t have much time to relax these days. I’m working on an article that’s taking up most of my time now. Damned interesting stuff, really.” “What’s it about?” He didn’t want to ask, but he asked. “Total Autoemasculation, a fairly rare thing. It’s traditionally attributed to schizophrenia, but what wasn’t in those days? I have a new theory.” “What’s that mean, Autoemasculation?” “Self-inflicted removal of the genitals. The whole works, cock and balls. A lot of the case histories said they felt no pain from it. Can you believe that? Anyway, I know this is probably boring to you, but I find it interesting.” “No,” He lied. “It sounds interesting.” “Yes. Well. What have you been up to?” “Nothing. Working.” “Not writing anymore? What about those screenplays of yours? You should do something with them.”

He had long since given up on making movies, and William knew it, but this was how it went. Both pretended to care about the interests of the other. He talked to William out of familial obligation. William, he knew, called him only to brag, and to rub his face in it all; the beautiful wife, the important life, the plays, the parties, the symphonies, the endless line of things that all demanded William’s attention. William was needed, wanted, and desired by others.

On Sunday, when she returned home from church, his mother would call to ask if he’d gone to service. He had not. It was not that he’d lost faith, he told her. And then he apologized. It wasn’t that, really. Sunday morning would come around, and he would hear the distant toll of the church bells as he lay in bed, and he would tell himself to get up and go, that it was important that he go, but he never got up, and he never went, and he was sorry for that. Yes, he told her, he’d go next week. She asked about confession and he said he’d been last month. He always said last month. It had actually been years, but telling her that would only cause problems that he didn’t feel like dealing with, and besides, it would change nothing. Then the questions about his job, and did he have a girlfriend yet, and why not, and why didn’t he look for a better job. They’d spent countless hours and much money bringing him up, and his poor father had worked his life away in that shop just so he’d have a shot at a better life, and what was he doing now? Working in a library was no job for a grown man. Maybe, she said, maybe he should have become a priest. Did he ever consider that? Well, maybe he should. But he wouldn’t, and the idea of it annoyed him. But she kept pushing. And then she would talk about William, and he’d have to hear about William’s weekend all over again. Can you believe it? She’d always know something that William hadn’t told him, so that even on a weekend when William seemed to be doing not well, and he felt he could have a conversation with his mother, she’d drop some damn bomb and he’d lose his way and stammer and apologize and just say, “Wow, that’s really great, Ma. I’m happy for him.” But of course, he wasn’t happy.

click here to read parts 1 & 2

His brother William, the headshrinker, called each Saturday, in the early evening, to talk about his plans for the night. This started with dinner at a restaurant he had never heard of. William would drop the name in passing, and he would have to ask. “Oh, just some new restaurant that’s opened up.” William would say, “The food’s not the best, but the critic at the Times gave it a rave and now it’s the place to be. You know how Helen is.” This was always followed by a play or a party, or the symphony, or a benefit; something, always something vital and important that had to be attended to. Which would all lead up to William asking him what he had planned for the evening. He answered, “Nothing”. Maybe he’d go down the street to see a movie, or rent something from the video store. He was just going to relax, take it easy.

by jusitin jasper