Remember Me

by Rainwater, Priscilla Poole

  Still numb with shock, he looked closely at the man who had claimed to be his father for so many years, and suddenly knew the truth of his words. Pale skin, whitish blond hair, even his tall, thin stature, facial features that bore no resemblance to his own. He wondered how it could ever have escaped his own notice.

  “You may run my empire someday young man, simply because there will be no one else to do it, but you’ll never be a Mortensen either! When I first found out she was carrying some piss-ant spawn, I did try to make her miscarry. But you, like her, were like a swarm of cockroaches that refused to go away. But don’t despair boy, just to prove your daddy is a good provider and forgiving, I have already put it in my will that you get everything when I’m gone. The downside to that though, is that you’ll have to provide and care for your whoring mother.”

  Finally snapping out of her stupor, she screamed, “YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!!! Isn’t it enough you’ve made my life miserable? I deserve everything, ME!!!! NO ONE ELSE!!!!”

  “Oh my goodness, finally, she speaks, when money is mentioned!” he mocked. “Listen here, you two-bit tramp, I can never make YOU suffer enough! That’s why I’ll take comfort in knowing that he’ll toss you away when he finds a woman to love and marry. Hell, I should have done that myself when I used you up,” he said in a harsh, raw voice.

  Unable to stand anymore, he grabbed his mother by the hand and shouted, “FUCK YOU, YOU SICK BASTARD, FUCK YOU! I DON’T WANT A GODDAMN THING FROM YOU! KEEP YOUR FUCKING MONEY, IT STINKS! I PROMISE YOU, I SWEAR TO YOU, ONE DAY I’LL PROVE TO YOU THAT I CAN BE THE KIND OF COLD HEARTED BASTARD YOU ARE! YOU SAY I’M NOT A MAN, BUT YOU TOOK AN ABUSED SIXTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL, YOU SICK, PERVERTED SON OF BITCH! IS THAT WHY YOU DRINK SO MUCH, TO DEAL WITH BEING A CHILD RAPIST?”

  Stunned by the outburst, he was speechless for a moment as he watched the two of them hold hands, then his face contorted into a mask of pure hatred and jealousy. “So, you may turn out to be a man some day after all! Has your mother been teaching you the art of being a man, son? Has she taught you all about the birds and bees, same as her father taught her?”

  Everything blacked out for him at that point. All he knew was that one moment he was listening to the demon rant, and the next he was being pulled off his father’s battered body by the butler Edoardo, his wife Gianne, and his mother. Looking down in shock, he saw his father’s face was covered in blood. Raising his trembling hands in the air and looking them at them as if they had turned to venomous serpents, he sobbed, “My God, I beat him to death! I beat him to death with my own two hands! I…I killed him, I killed MY OWN FATHER! OH GOD HELP ME, I DIDN’T MEAN IT! I JUST WANTED HIM TO STOP SAYING THOSE AWFUL THINGS!”

  Seeing his eyes roll back in his head, Gianne and her husband both knew he was on the verge of fainting, and rushed forward to steady him and offer comfort.

  **************

  “Breathe. Relax, just calm down.” Edoardo’ murmured, his heavy Italian accent having a somewhat calming effect on the terrified young man. His cool, calloused hands cupped Granger’s face in between them as he said, “Listen to me, Siete come I miei propri, Papa’ prendere la cura di questo. Fidarselo di. Capire? (You are like my own, Papa will take care of this, understand?)” When the young man tried to look down at his father’s body lying on the floor, his hands gently forced his face to look away. “No, look at me!”

  When the young man’s blue eyes finally focused on him again, he whispered, “Sono cosi impaurito. Non ho significato ucciderlo.” (I am so afraid. I did not mean to kill him.)

  “I know, I know, son. Just go. Go to your room.” he replied as he wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand, then leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

  As he helped the unsteady young man to his feet, he looked at Grace, not even attempting to hide his contempt. “Get the boy out of here, take him to his room!” he ordered, to her complete shock. Turning to his wife, who was at the moment gazing down at their employer’s body with a look of utter horror, he said, “Go get some cleaning supplies. Make sure the other staff members stay away from this entire wing, and close and lock the double doors, understand?”

  Snapping out of her horrified trance, she nodded mutely and left the room in a hurry.

  “Let’s do as the man says dear, let’s get you out of here.” Grace said as she began tugging at Granger’s arm.

  Still in a daze, he stumbled from the room as she pulled the door closed behind them.

  Hurrying down the hallway, she was startled when he suddenly pulled free of her grasp and ran inside the nearest guest room.

  “Granger!" she hissed loudly as she followed him inside. With utter horror, she saw he was picking up a telephone receiver. “What are you doing?” she demanded in a shrill voice.

  Icy black fear twisting deep in his heart, he spoke in a dull, lifeless voice. “Mother, I killed him! I have to call the police or………” he finished, and began to sob hopelessly.

  On the verge of panic, she sprang towards him, snatched the receiver from his hands and slammed it back into the cradle, then slapped him viciously across the face. “STOP IT THIS INSTANT!” she hissed loudly. “Why do you think I put up with that bastard for so long, suffered through so much? We’re not going to lose everything we have because of one mistake! I’ve worked hard to gain the respect I have in this community, and I have no intentions of losing that, or the life I’ve grown accustomed to! Why do you think I had you, and stayed with HIM? Because the Mortensen family means wealth, power, and prestige, and neither YOU, NOR ANYONE ELSE WILL TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME! Be a man!"

  He simply stared at her in shocked silence.

  Forcing herself to remain calm, she looked down at the floor for a moment, then raised her head and looked him in the eyes with her most charming, sweet smile in place. Reaching out to caress the reddened spot on his cheek where she had struck him, her smile faltered as he flinched and backed away.

  Acting as if nothing had happened, her hand busied itself with patting her hair back in place. Smiling sweetly, she said, “Don’t you worry, just go get showered, I’ll handle everything. Edoardo and Gianne may dislike your father and I, but they both are deeply affectionate towards you, and very protective, always have been. I’m sure I can convince them to remain silent. When I get everything wrapped up, I’ll send Gianne to give you something to help you sleep. You’re seventeen now, I‘m sure a sleeping pill and a little alcohol won’t hurt you.”

  Turning to leave, she stopped suddenly and faced him again. “Granger, no one will tear us apart, ever. NO ONE.”

  The tone of her voice chilled him to his very soul.

  *************

  Hours later his mother came into his room.

  Almost in a catatonic state, he didn’t even bother to look up, and continued staring listlessly at the flames in the huge fireplace. Earlier, at her insistence and urging, he had undressed and showered, while she tossed his bloody clothing into the roaring blaze. Idly, he wondered why he felt so cold when he was sitting so close to the fire.

  Walking up beside him, she was silent for a moment, then reached out hesitantly and ran one hand through his still-damp hair. “Everything’s been taken care of, don’t you worry." she said softly. “No one will ever mention this….unfortunate incident. We’ll take care of each other, protect each other. Get some rest, we have to be at the early Christmas service, and of course there’s the dinner party afterwards. It wouldn’t look right, look…normal, if we didn’t attend, would it?"

  Snapping out of his stupor, he turned his head and pinned her with his now-steely gaze. “You, you’re actually more concerned about…about THAT, than you are with what happened here today?" he asked incredulously.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about." she replied airily, then turned and walked out.

  When the door had closed behind her, he stared at the telephone with mixed emotions. Despite what he felt for her at the moment, he couldn’t help but think of the physic
al and emotional abuse she had suffered at the hands of his ‘father’ for years. And if he called the police and ended up in prison, wouldn’t everyone eventually uncover all the horrible family secrets? Wouldn’t it bring financial ruin on their family businesses, and cost lots of good, decent, hard-working men and women their jobs? Would people believe he had had some sick relationship with his mother?

  No matter the coldness he was feeling from and for his mother, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, allow people to find out about the abuse she had suffered, not only at the hands of her husband, but her own father as well. No matter what, she was still the woman who had given him life. He wouldn’t be like the rest of the men in her life, and abuse her too.

  Christmas Day

  To Granger, things seemed surreal as he watched how everyone living in the estate went about their daily routine as if nothing had ever happened. Of course he knew now that the intermediate and junior staff members knew nothing about the ’accident’. Not at the moment, anyway.

  Coming down the stairs, he watched the staff hustling about, preparing for the guests, who would be arriving later in the day. For once, within these walls, the atmosphere radiated cheer. The soothing voice of Burle Ives rang throughout the place as he sang the timeless classic ’Have a Holly-Jolly Christmas’. Most of the intermediate staff members were talking about the heavy snow that was falling outside, and how it made the entire estate look like a scene from a Christmas post card, while the majority of the younger staff excitedly discussed the chances of the nearest professional football team, the Tennessee Titans, who had won their division, and were gearing up for the AFC playoffs.

  Mentioning absolutely nothing about the terrible events earlier, Edoadro and Gianne approached him, embraced him warmly, and wished him Merry Christmas.

  As the music continued playing, other staff members approached him in groups of three and four, wishing him a Merry Christmas, and thanking him for the gifts he had personally handpicked and bought for each of them. Looking around, he watched as his mother descended the spiral staircase with a grace and elegance few women possessed, reminding him of female film stars of the fifties. She was ready for her close-up, all smiles, and dressed perfectly.

  Walking up to him, she gave him a light peck on the cheek and chirped, “Granger, dear, you’re as dashing as ever. I hear the Westmoreland’s daughter is back from that boarding school she attended in Europe, the very same one the Royal Family sent their daughters to. She has wonderful breeding, she’s a real beauty. And I hear that several young men have been trying to court her, but her grandmother told me she was hoping you would ask her out instead. She’ll be at the church service, you should introduce yourself and ask her over for dinner, after all, you’re Granger Mortensen, and no young woman in her right mind would refuse you.” she finished as she reached for his tie and adjusted it.

  Not caring whether he hurt her feelings or not, he batted her hand away and growled, “Don’t touch me! Just give me some space, and stop talking about some bitch that’s probably like yo …” He caught himself when he noticed several of the staff turn and stare at him in astonishment. He knew what it was. They were used to his mother and father being nasty and rude to one another, but not seeing ’him’ behave this way.

  Stepping away from him, she took her coat and gloves from one of the servants, seemingly unaffected by his behavior. In fact, she acted as if nothing had happened. “We should be running along now dear.” she smiled, “We wouldn’t want to be late. We should take your car, so your friends can see what your father gave you for Christmas.”

  The sudden chiming of the doorbells sent a wave of foreboding through him, and he found himself unable to move a muscle. He remained glued to the spot as he watched a young female staff member answer the door, and felt faint when he saw two uniformed police officers step inside.

  **************

  Still frozen in place, Granger watched numbly as the two officers were quickly greeted by Gianne, who seemed unaffected, even somewhat cheerful. It was totally unlike her, as usually it took very little to rattle her.

  Convinced they were there to arrest him, he began walking towards them on shaky legs, when suddenly his arm was caught in a vice-like grip. Surprised at the strength in that tiny hand, he turned to see the smiling face of his mother.

  “Stay right here son." she muttered, her million-dollar smile never faltering for a moment. With a graceful, confident stride, she approached them and chirped, “Why, Merry Christmas, officers! How can we help you?”

  The younger officer glanced nervously at his partner, then back to her, and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh, Merry…well…Mrs. Mortensen…I’m terribly sorry to say I have some bad news concerning your husband….”

  Granger watched as the sunny smile disappeared from her face in an instant, and she put two trembling hands to her mouth and began shaking her head in denial. In spite of the numb horror he felt, he was amazed by this very convincing, award-winning performance.

  “Ma’am, I’m very sorry, but….your husband was involved in a single-car accident on Old Norton road. He… didn’t survive his injuries.”

  ‘Auto Accident?’ he thought, completely thunderstruck. ‘How did she make the….the murder look like an accident? Did she bribe the police? Did she pay someone to stage the accident?’ his mind screamed.

  Continuing her act, his mother wailed like a wounded banshee and turned on the waterworks. Hands still covering her mouth, she staggered toward him drunkenly and threw herself into his arms as her wailing subsided into hoarse, braying sobs.

  “No…no…noooo” she moaned.

  Putting his arms around her more out of reflex than concern, he looked at Gianne in bewilderment, and the look of utter disbelief and shock on the woman’s own face, as well as her husband’s, confused him more than ever, as he knew instinctively they weren’t putting on an act.

  Stepping forward with a miserable look on his face, the older officer handed him his card and asked hesitantly, “Sir, just one question: Do you have any idea why your father was out on Old Norton road to begin with? I’m sure he knew just as well as anyone else around these parts just how much more dangerous that winding, twisting road is when it’s covered with snow and ice. It just doesn‘t make sense."

  Opening his mouth to answer, he felt compelled to tell the truth, but hesitated at the last second when the image of his father beating his mother flashed before his eyes. ‘God forgive me, I can’t tell them the truth!’ he thought. Looking down at the floor, he mumbled, “No sir, I have no idea. Maybe he had been drinking, he’s been doing a lot of that lately.” ’Well, at least THAT’s not a lie…’ he thought miserably.

  “We’ll be making that determination as soon as possible. Well, that’s about it for now, just come down to the station at your earliest convenience, so we can tie up any loose ends as quickly, and painlessly as possible.

  Mumbling their condolences one last time, the two officers made their way to the door and saw themselves out.

  Feeling sick to his stomach, he was suddenly aware that the front of his shirt was soaked with his mother’s tears. Looking around slowly, he noticed for the first time that staff members were standing all around him, each and every one of them stunned and silent.

  The only sound in the house was the soft sobs of his mother, and the voice of the late Burle Ives, who was still singing ‘Have a Holly Jolly Christmas’.

  ‘I never want to hear that song again…’ he thought.

  *********

  Before his father was even laid to rest, the death was officially ruled an accident. Granger was amazed at how quickly the case was wrapped up in a neat, tidy little package. The press was still snooping around however, because one of his father’s mistresses was claiming to anyone who would listen that the death was no accident. It was just the type of juicy gossip the tabloids thrived on.

  The day the ruling was handed down, family lawyers confirmed that his father had indeed left his multi-b
illion dollar empire to him. The law firm would control the estate and family businesses, and his mother would receive an allowance, until he turned eighteen, when it would officially be turned over to him. For his mother, there was no contesting the will, his father had gone to great lengths and expense to ensure it was ironclad.