My mouth opens, because there are so many things I want to say to him. I want to tell him that his disease is my cure, and love is love, but he disappears before my eyes. I scream, seeing Mateo sit before me with his dark eyes and brooding demeanor. There is so much I want to tell him, letting him know that he deserves to be loved and not left. Cherished and not reprimanded for his dysfunction, but just when I have the courage to reach out to him, he too, dwindles into the air. My thoughts become figments of my imagination and insanity and pain fill me up, drinking me in with their disaster.
I scream, grasping onto the shit infested floor until my dirty nails break. I cry out again, hoping that they can hear me, because they are my only salvation, but Arturo’s forceful thrusts are all that fill me. He grabs a hold of my broken body, pulling back the layer of the girl that I used to be and freeing the one that I wish for. I feel a rush of energy torrent down my back as the whisper of air delights my flesh, sending shockwaves of insurmountable craziness through every inch of my body.
Torture. Pain. Insanity.
They all meet again, and the lamb eats herself, birthing a wolf set to kill.
Caesar
Love your own, kiss your own,
Love your own mother, hinny,
For if she was dead and gone,
You’d ne’er get such another, hinny.
My mother is the bane of my existence, the reason I fall into the madness within my mind. She tortures me with her voice and touch. Since I was boy, no more than four, she’s whispered her devil notes in my ears making my body declare its war on my mind. Her singing me a lullaby turned me into a demon that I couldn’t control. So I was locked in the pantry until I could get a hold of myself. Now I am back here and she is working her wicked magic on me, my poor dick getting beaten every time she talks to me. My burns are healing and even though my skin feels two sizes too small I am ready to leave. I want to go back to her and even to Mateo. I miss the silence, I miss my home and I miss the goodbyes. I need to go and say goodbye to my girl.
Sitting here in the study, looking out the window at the grounds of my childhood prison, I would trade my soul for the filth of the city. The smoke and smog, the hookers and hawkers, that is home and this is my incarceration. The shelves of civilized reading material and medical books line the walls. My father was a doctor, my mother is still a doctor, and together they founded this business. Selling hope to the hopeless and stealing it from the damned. I wasn’t clever enough to be a doctor, because I couldn’t bear the noise of school. I wasn’t good enough to please them so I went to run the slaughter houses. I harvest organs and steal lives to save those who can afford to buy new ones. I like what I do, I have no desire to be elbow deep inside someone's body unless it's a woman and I am enjoying it. I like being the one they give up to and I live for the goodbyes I get to say.
“Caesar, what are you doing up, you should be resting boy.” My mother's hellish voice comes at me like a dagger.
“I am rested, I want to go back. I am ready to leave,” I tell her, standing up and ready to escape her torment.
“Quedate, boy. Let Mateo take over, you can work here. Take over for me. I won’t live forever you know.” Oh, I know. I wish your life away daily.
“I have things to deal with first. I can come back, but now I need to be there. The boy is unstable, he isn’t ready to do this alone.” I am towering over her now.
“You can go, Caesar, but you will come back when I call you, no me puedes ignorar para siempre. The boy can have Hugo to help him, or you can say goodbye to him like you should have years ago. I will send someone to take over.” The sound of her words makes my body do things. The rasp in her soft voice even when she is angry undoes my sanity and in my mind I pin her to the wall as I rape her. I would kill her if I touched her. The walking stick hits me right between the legs and I am saved from the infernal noises within.
“Fine woman, just send me back, yo odio este lugar.” I shove past her and into the hallway where I escape to the solitude of my room. My frail old mother shouldn’t scare me but she is the devil. In my quiet room, I think about packing my things but I have none with me. They are in my apartment in Hunts Point and Mateo and my daughter have moved on from there. I am to go to the bowels of society where darkness is in everything. I fold the few clothes I have here and place them in rows on the bed. I know there will be some poor unwilling servant to come and pack them in a bag for me. Sitting on the end of the single bed where I have suffered the past weeks while healing, my body may be better but my mind still cannot reconcile what I have done.
She is so beautifully damaged, her body and soul crushed into nothing, yet she claws into my heart and rips it apart. I have to say goodbye. I have to go back and end this. As long as she is out there wandering around I will be haunted by this love. If I just say goodbye, then it can all go back to the way it should be. She is my child, my baby, my daughter and I touched her, tainted her with my disease. She was born from my madness and now she causes the deepest agony in my soul. I should have left her years ago, yet here I sit, wanting to save her again. Needing to fill my lungs with smoke and my mind with silence, I retreat to the back of the property. Wandering through the grounds, I smoke ten cigarettes and try to stay calm about going to find them. I despise the fresh air and sunshine, I try block it out by closing my eyes and inhaling my smoke, but it's all around me. Once my shakes from not smoking subside, I walk back to the confines of the mansion that houses my worst nightmares. It is an impressive home, an architectural masterpiece filled with family history and great wealth, but to me it is haunted with noise that I can’t silence. Whispers of lullabies and laughter, my sisters’ footsteps as they ran down the halls. This place is a mausoleum to things that have died in the wake of my insanity, I couldn’t keep the girls in line. I couldn’t stop Mateo from killing Ophelia. Her death drove my sisters to their graves. The one because her baby died, the other because she birthed the monster that killed her. They ran with me to escape my mother and I welcomed them to their deaths. I am embarrassed by my failures and this home just shoves them further down my throat. Choking on my inadequacies, I enter the hall that is at the center of my mother's empire. My bags await me at the front door with a driver and her.
“I would love it if you would stay.” She kisses my now longer beard and I want to strangle her like I did Juan. Her words are poisoning me slowly, making it harder to recover every time she speaks.
“I cannot stay, Madre, not unless you have your voice box removed like a noisy dog.” I let my bitterness scream over the roar inside my mind.
“Caesar, control that rage in you boy or I will make you fly commercial.” Her threat silences me, I cannot be with so many people. She turns her now hunched back and walks away from me; the relief is almost instant.
“Let’s go.” The driver speaks loud, they all know what to do. Yet, she just chooses not to ‘coddle’ me.
“Shut up,” I snap as I pass him out the front door, down the steps to the waiting car. Here I am royalty and I hate it, I hate being served. I crave the solitude of taking care of myself.
The drone of the jet engines silences the demons set free by my mother. I am able to sleep peacefully almost all the way home. When I wake up, anxiety is making my palms sweat and I am shaking for a smoke again. I wish for the time to pass faster so that I can step out of plane and smoke like a fucking chimney. I have removed the required tie that I am expected to wear when at home and loosened my buttons. In an attempt to quell my angst, I roll my sleeves up and put my cuff links in my pocket. I am returning to the slums, I cannot look like a Lord roaming around with the paupers. When the plane comes to bumpy halt at a small airfield outside Mexico City, my heart rate slows and I feel relieved. I can see our helicopters loading coolers to be flown to clinics, so it appears he has managed to get things going after all. I feel a little pride as I see things seem to be in order and I light a smoke and get into the filthy taxi waiting for me. It’s muggy and hot but
the air smells as if it might rain. I let the smog flow in through the open window as we drive through this pit of human despair. I feel more at home here, the sounds in the city drowning out the cacophony inside my head, allowing me a little peace. The car squeals to a stop outside our large factory and I get out into the stifling heat and pick up my bag. The cab peels off behind me and I prepare to take back my life. Hugo opens the security gates and door to allow me inside.
“Caesar,” he greets, his voice coarse. “Welcome back.”
“Vete a la chingada traidor, you called my fucking madre. Make yourself scarce; I am not ready to not kill you yet.” I stalk past him towards the offices.
“Mateo!” I yell out, calling him. “You cunt, Mateo!”
“He went out, he’ll be back later.” Hugo is still behind me and I want to kill him for saving me.
“Where is Svetlana, Hugo?” I turn and stare him down. His eyes fall to the floor and he turns his back on me. I am filled with the rage that only a father could feel as I launch after him.
“Where is my daughter, Hugo?” My voice gets louder as he keeps walking. He turns into an office and I follow, like a bull after a red rag. He opens the top drawer of the desk and pulls out a pile of crumpled papers and Polaroid pictures. Slamming them against my chest, he leaves me alone to see what has become of my little girl. I should have died in that fire, it would have hurt less than this. Even the melted skin that pains me all day couldn’t feel this bad. I am going to kill that boy when he gets here.
Mateo
AS I walked by myself,
And talked to myself,
Myself said unto me,
Look to thyself,
Take care of thyself,
For nobody cares for thee.
I answered myself,
And said to myself,
In the self-same repartee,
Look to thyself,
Or not look to thyself,
The self-same thing will be.
I stroll through the streets, happy with my latest business deal. Pretty girls stolen away for me to love and until they are ready to save others. The sounds and smells of the revolting city around me fill my mind with the hope that this can finally be home for me. I will find peace here, I will find love here. As the dirty sidewalk absorbs me and I become a part of this place, I can hear Lettie screaming in my mind. Her terror sounds so real that I walk faster to escape it. Rounding a corner the voice in my head is quieter and I try fill my thoughts with my new little doll. My porcelain princess lying there waiting and no way to run from me. My stomach growls with hunger or disgust, I cannot tell which one, and the smell of a filthy dustbin makes me gag. I haven’t had a proper meal in days. Too distracted and busy, booze and coffee have kept me alive so far. The sharp pain in my gut says I may not be able to do it forever. I stop at a small food vendor, it all looks like heartburn on a platter so I ask for the special. I wander further as I eat. I have gone so far that the streets are little less disgusting. I am bordering on a decent neighborhood. By decent I mean I cannot see the men carrying guns or the prostitutes on every corner any longer. I stop and glance around, I stand out too much here. I walk a few blocks further until I am on a main street and hail the first cab that I see. I miss my new little doll and I want to tell her about my day, and all the new lovers we will have soon.
I can feel my uncle's rage filling the entire building before I see him or hear him. Silence has returned and there isn’t single noise in the building. I shudder at the wrath I know I am to face, I lost Lettie, his daughter and the only thing he ever seemed to want to keep. I hear the screams from earlier, only now they don’t seem quite so real. Shaking my head, I trudge my way to back of the building - I want to see my little doll. So pretty and pale and almost dead, she enchants me with her innocence and her still body calls to mine. I want to hold her against me and love her, I need to kiss her sweet mouth and stroke my hands through her white hair. I take off my clothes and fold them in a neat pile on the chair next to her bed. Peeling back the sheets, I slither in next to her small body. I pull her into me, careful not to disconnect her wires and monitors. She smells like antiseptic wash and heaven. I roll so can kiss her lips, they are dry and chapped and unmoving. Her tongue doesn’t dance with mine, it's dry and rough against me. I search for a feeling that I don’t want. When she cannot give it to me, I let go of her and stare at the ceiling, her cold body still next to mine. The beeping of her life is ringing in my ears as I hear the doors fly open. ‘Hello uncle’ where have you been? I smile up at the ceiling as hear him approaching me, his violent footsteps breaking his precious silence. I chuckle at the insanity that is my life.
He pulls me from her bed with force and I fall hard to the floor. My naked body is exposed to him and all the dead bodies the room. The sterile white tiles are cool against my skin and a shiver at the contact. As I look up into those dark eyes I am faced with a window into hell. His rage is out in the open for all to see as a boot connects with my ribs. I splutter and cough and try to get a grip enough to stand and face him. “Where is my baby, Mateo?” When he grabs my hair and pulls me to face him so close I can smell the smoke on his breath, a cackle escapes me and I spit out.
“I think I heard her screaming in the streets. She will always be whore, Caesar. You can't save us.” We don’t want to be saved.
“If she is dead, Mateo, I will sell your heart.” He grits his teeth together and lands another kick. This one catches me on my jaw and I feel my teeth rattle loose. My eye catches his hand; even with blurry eyes and upside down I can see the melted skin from a burn. He has burns, bad burns. He turns to walk out and I see Hugo’s boots in the distance. I stay down, the cold floor keeping my emotions in place. They are facing each other when I hear him bark an order.
“That one, the little one, goes next.” My doll, no! I won’t let him take you my sweet porcelain baby. Shoving myself up, I cover my body with her sheet and stalk towards them. The air is cold on my naked body but I do not care.
“She is mine. I wouldn’t tempt my demons, Caesar,” I whisper close enough that I know he will be insane in seconds. The smile lighting up my face is the smile of the victor. I am going to win the war and he will wish he never returned to this warehouse of heartache and agony. “Leave them alone. I choose who goes now. You left, we don’t need you anymore,” I whisper again, prodding the beast.
He grabs me by my balls, a death grip. The beast is alive in him still; whisper to Caesar and he comes alive with hate and violent rage. “You will get dressed and go find my child or I will kill every single one of your lovers, Mateo. Better be fast or your little doll will be dead before you return. I’m going to go find a home for her pretty little heart.” He lets me go and shoves Hugo out of the way as he storms out of my heaven. Fuck him. Lettie is the reason for the chaos, I hope I find a body to bring to him. She left us, he left us!
“You better find her, Mateo, I will help you. Go put some clothes on. I don’t need to see your shriveled cock, I just ate.” He turns around and waits for me to dress myself; my shoulders round over, heavy with my sudden shame. My victory doesn't last long. They don’t take me seriously, I am just the sick boy. I will show them all.
Hugo drives aimlessly through the streets, stopping from time to time to question some of his friends. No one has seen her. She must be dead, a ghost that screams inside my head and punches at my heart. The time is sliding by at a snail's pace, it even seems as if we are driving in slow motion. The buildings drag past instead of whiz by. I light a smoke and put my feet up on the dash. I would feel it if Lettie was alive because I would be dying to kill her. I love her, but I cannot abide the chaos that she has brought with her. I need the order, the neat lines and the perfection of how it is now, and Lettie is filthy and messy and blurs lines. She won’t be mine now that he has come back, she loves him too much to still love me. I don’t want to find her, so I don’t look. I close my eyes and dream about my new toy, she is so pretty and pale. Her skin is s
oft and clean, she has straight teeth and pink lips. I imagine myself touching her small breasts, running my fingers over them. She doesn’t move when I bite her nipple in my teeth, she doesn’t gasp or cry. No, she lets me love her like I need to. I know she will be tight around my cock, I will have to force it inside her. I wonder if dead virgins bleed? I feel my cock harden as my daydream carries me away with her. I can love her the way she should be loved - to death. If anyone loved her before, she wouldn’t be in my bed waiting for me to return. She is meant to be mine.
“Wake up, idiot!” Hugo reaches over and slaps me on the chest. “Where did you hear her scream?” he asks, and I hear the desperation in his gruff voice.
“In my head.” I answer the truth. I hear her in my mind all day and all night, tormenting me and causing chaos. “But, I was walking three or four blocks from here. Almost on the good side of town.” He nods and drives in the direction of where I lost my mind earlier on today. The sun is sinking in the sky and dusk paints the filth in its golden glow. My phone chimes with a message alert, there are bodies arriving, I need to go back.
“We can look tomorrow, take me back. I have a shipment to offload.” A white van cuts us off and peels away in the opposite direction to us. They drive like animals here. I shake my head and Hugo turns down a side street to take us back. By the time we stop at the back of the warehouse, it is dark outside. The smog hides even the stars from shining light on this hell hole. I greet the gold toothed delivery man and open the doors with my keys. He pulls four girls and a boy out from his van. They are clean and tied up; they wiggle and writhe to try to escape their inevitable death. I watch as Hugo ushers them into the processing area and pushes a buzzer for a doctor to get down here.
The Goodbye Girl (Red Market Series Book 2) Page 5