You could say I have trust issues. Can you blame me? I mean, who can I trust? Who can any of us trust? You know my stance on institutions like the church. I have seen what can happen with even close knit families like Dave's and the whole Santa Claus thing still kinda bothers me in general. There have been friends, sure, but they all left and only make sporadic appearances in my life. And love... I seem to hurt the nice ladies I have cared for to an extent that they are pretty much moved on before they moved out.
Is all that related to trust, or just my own issues with commitment, bonding, etc.? I could argue that one informs the other, they all relate in some way, in every way, but I do not want to argue. I want to take the pain medication the doctor gave me and go back to sleep. To sleep all weekend. Here we go.
"Mrs. Banned, if you just click on the..." Jessie said.
My mother threw up her hands and started to walk away from the circulation desk as I approached.
"Evan, can you tell this boy I'm too old to learn any of this computer crap," my mother said.
"She's way too old," I said, dodging my mother's open hand as it swung toward my arm.
"Mom, wait," I said, laying Das Buch von Feuer und Vernunft Band Drei on the circ desk, "Have you ever seen this?"
Mom picked up the small red book. She shook her head.
"Is it ours," she asked, "I've never seen it. Odd call number."
"Yeah, it was up in nonfiction. It's basically a bunch of Norse legends in German. I cross referenced a few and they don't show up anywhere."
I told her the legend of Snotra and Logi and was about to tell her about the rune of Snotra when something hit me on the back of the head.
Stars filled my vision, and I went down to one knee. I heard my mother scream and Jessie utter something under his breath. I shook my head and looked up.
Darling was standing with Das Buch von Feuer und Vernunft Band Drei in his hand. He looked down at me.
"Geheiligt werde Snotra," he said and turned and ran.
I stood and ran after him. Even now, I am not sure why I ran after him. I had no hope in catching him. He was ten years my junior, twenty if you add in my smoking. But I ran.
Running. Fucking. Sucks.
Cursing my poor health choices, we went down the street and into the park. I began to gain on him as the slope increased, my long legs matching his short strides. When we reached the picnic area, the same area I had been in the night Ava was murdered, I caught him.
For some reason he tried to run over a picnic table instead of cut and run around it. He got on top the the table, but when he jumped off, he miscalculated the grade of the slope on the other side and was sent sprawling. I ran around and jumped on top of him.
I drove my elbow into his stomach then sent my fist into his chin. He was experienced in close fighting, quick to dodge or block each blow and attempt to roll away from me. I kept my weight on his legs, keeping him where he was.
A blow finally landed on his ear and the fight went out of him. I put my arm across his throat and held him in place.
"Darling," I yelled, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Geheiligt werde Snotra," he said, twisting again. I pushed down on his windpipe.
"You can't... You and your family are done here, Evan," he said, "The Banned family won't keep her much longer. Your time is over. Just like that little bitch."
Things began clicking in my head, timelines matching up. I was stunned.
"You? You killed Ava?"
"Trying to make me confess? Fuck you."
"You did. What the fuck is going on?" A thought hit me, fresh anger pushed my arm on his throat even harder, "Betty? You killed Ava and Betty, you son of a bitch."
He almost looked hurt.
"I would... Betty was no threat. Ava was a necessity."
I screamed in his face. The sound scared birds in the trees causing them to fly away. I raised my arm to hit him again and again and again.
I let him go for a second to raise up to get maximum force. He used it to push me further up, to bring his knee into my groin and his fist to my right ear. I screamed again, falling to the side.
He was on his feet in a second, kicking me. I do not know how many times he put those loafers into my stomach, back and arms, but I know at some point I began to bleed. At some point, my screams became his and his screams became sirens and he was gone.
I looked over and the little red book was lying in the grass next to me. Several pages were torn out, some flying away into the breeze.
Is all that related to trust, or just my own issues with commitment, bonding, etc.? I could argue that one informs the other, they all relate in some way, in every way, but I do not want to argue. I want to take the pain medication the doctor gave me and go back to sleep. To sleep all weekend. Here we go.
"Mrs. Banned, if you just click on the..." Jessie said.
My mother threw up her hands and started to walk away from the circulation desk as I approached.
"Evan, can you tell this boy I'm too old to learn any of this computer crap," my mother said.
"She's way too old," I said, dodging my mother's open hand as it swung toward my arm.
"Mom, wait," I said, laying Das Buch von Feuer und Vernunft Band Drei on the circ desk, "Have you ever seen this?"
Mom picked up the small red book. She shook her head.
"Is it ours," she asked, "I've never seen it. Odd call number."
"Yeah, it was up in nonfiction. It's basically a bunch of Norse legends in German. I cross referenced a few and they don't show up anywhere."
I told her the legend of Snotra and Logi and was about to tell her about the rune of Snotra when something hit me on the back of the head.
Stars filled my vision, and I went down to one knee. I heard my mother scream and Jessie utter something under his breath. I shook my head and looked up.
Darling was standing with Das Buch von Feuer und Vernunft Band Drei in his hand. He looked down at me.
"Geheiligt werde Snotra," he said and turned and ran.
I stood and ran after him. Even now, I am not sure why I ran after him. I had no hope in catching him. He was ten years my junior, twenty if you add in my smoking. But I ran.
Running. Fucking. Sucks.
Cursing my poor health choices, we went down the street and into the park. I began to gain on him as the slope increased, my long legs matching his short strides. When we reached the picnic area, the same area I had been in the night Ava was murdered, I caught him.
For some reason he tried to run over a picnic table instead of cut and run around it. He got on top the the table, but when he jumped off, he miscalculated the grade of the slope on the other side and was sent sprawling. I ran around and jumped on top of him.
I drove my elbow into his stomach then sent my fist into his chin. He was experienced in close fighting, quick to dodge or block each blow and attempt to roll away from me. I kept my weight on his legs, keeping him where he was.
A blow finally landed on his ear and the fight went out of him. I put my arm across his throat and held him in place.
"Darling," I yelled, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Geheiligt werde Snotra," he said, twisting again. I pushed down on his windpipe.
"You can't... You and your family are done here, Evan," he said, "The Banned family won't keep her much longer. Your time is over. Just like that little bitch."
Things began clicking in my head, timelines matching up. I was stunned.
"You? You killed Ava?"
"Trying to make me confess? Fuck you."
"You did. What the fuck is going on?" A thought hit me, fresh anger pushed my arm on his throat even harder, "Betty? You killed Ava and Betty, you son of a bitch."
He almost looked hurt.
"I would... Betty was no threat. Ava was a necessity."
I screamed in his face. The sound scared birds in the trees causing them to fly away. I raised my arm to hit him again and again and again.
I let him go for a second to raise up to get maximum force. He used it to push me further up, to bring his knee into my groin and his fist to my right ear. I screamed again, falling to the side.
He was on his feet in a second, kicking me. I do not know how many times he put those loafers into my stomach, back and arms, but I know at some point I began to bleed. At some point, my screams became his and his screams became sirens and he was gone.
I looked over and the little red book was lying in the grass next to me. Several pages were torn out, some flying away into the breeze.