Grievance

Bradley had it all.

Money, and fame and an apartment overlooking Central Park. Tailored suits and chiseled abs and a smile that said “I’m better than you, and even you know it.” 

He watched himself in all the movies about Wall Street, and his daily life actually closely resembled Hollywood’s fascination and their indirect portrayals of him: Big money, big tits, and big bags of drugs all being chased and used and then disposed of. 

Bradley had a difficult time with showing people he cared, mainly because he didn’t. But others never realized that fact. Even he himself wasn’t aware of that.  Deep down, he wanted to think he was still the kid from Philadelphia with good math skills and his obsessions with power pop bands and sculpting. 

When his mother died of a sudden stroke Bradley was sitting in his office, sweating by the phone over an important deal. 

“This is Bradley.”

“Brad, it’s me.”

His fathers voice was older. It was gravelly, the way it once sounded when he would do the voices of old wise men in the bedtime stories he used to read to little Bradley, once upon a time. Now, he wasn’t impersonating the voices; his voice had simply weathered to that of an old man’s. 

“Uh, dad?”

Said Bradley, sticking three pieces of gum in his mouth at once— a habit he had formed when he had to endure phone calls with his family. 

“You, dont, recognize my voice?”

“Well, no, uh, I just was expecting it to be someone else. Just a business call. Some deal. Not important, or anything. “

Bradley said trying to mask his dissapoontment 

“Oh, uh sorry, Brad.... I know. You’re busy. It’s just...”

His voice choked. 

Bradley looked at the television screen, checking the time showing on the one business news channel he kept on at all times.  

“Your mother...”

Bradley swallowed, waiting for his father to continue. 

“Mom died this morning, Bradley.” 

A chill ran through his blood. Bradley was motionless and speechless for about a minute before his mouth started moving automatically, continuing to chew his spearmint stock of gum in a mechanical fashion. 

“I’m sorry, Bradley.”

Bradley waited for the chill to sweep through him again, he waited for a wave of pain and shock and despair to overtake him; but it didn’t.

Nothing else occurred to him except to find a way to get off the phone so he could get back to his business. he stuck another piece of gum in his mouth.

“This, is, really, really, terrible, dad. “

The words were strung together so forcefully, to his father, in that moment, Bradley was truly suffering. 

“I know Bradley, I know. “

His father whimpered.

“What happened?  How could this happen? Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong?”  

Bradley demanded

“We didn’t know. It was a sudden stroke. We had no idea...”

The answer satisfied him. Specifically, the part of him that wanted everyone, including himself , convinced he still had regard for other people in the world. 

“So what now?” He asked, intentionally straining his voice. 

Still unconvinced and feeling totally unconvincing, he pushed deeper. 

“What the hell now, Dad?”

“Well, the funeral arrangements will have to be made... the whole family will be here tonight.. Are you....able to... come tonight? I know it’s...last...minute.”

Bradley put the phone away from his face and gasped.

He desperately did not want to go. He had plans that evening he had been looking forward to. But, there was no excuse. There was no way of getting out of it. Besides, it was only a forty minute drive. 

“O- ahem.”

He cleared his throat. 

“of course. “

he croaked

Bradley waited for the chill to sweep to through him. He waited for the painful feelings to envelop him in a wave. He waited for the pangs of grief and the deathly cold to gnaw away at his soul, but he felt nothing. The only feeling he felt was frustration with himself for being so devoid of feeling. 

“I miss you, Bradley. I love you.”

Came his fathers gravelly old voice. 

“I’ll see you as soon as I can make it. I love you, dad” 

Said Bradley, forcing a fake choked up tightness in his throat towards the end of his forced statement.  

The rest of the day went by in a blur. Lunch with Ralph and Greg was uneventful. They both had big wins that day, but that wasn’t special in any sense. Bradley ate his sashimi without saying much as Greg enjoyed his roast beef and Ralph his fresh papaya juice. 

‘Ralph and his juice cleanses.’

Thought Bradley 

And then once again he thought about how he wasn’t thinking about his mother in even the slightest way It was as if he couldn’t even remember her. Suddenly his mind flip flopped back to his plans for that night and how he’d have to arrange them around the nuisance of going  to see his family. 

All this he thought about while his mouth mechanically chewed the raw fish out of the little sushi tray on the porcelain tables in the cafeteria. 

“See you tonight, Brad?”

Said Ralph

“Where?”

“Marcello is having a thing. Didn’t you know?”

“Oh, right. Nah, can’t tonight. Family thing. “

Said Bradley. 

“What about after?  At The Islington?”

“Nah, got a date, actually.”

“With whom?”

“Your mother.”

“Fuck you, man. “

Ralph gave him a friendly punch As he and Greg stood up to leave. 

“Have fun with who ever the lucky man is that will be buttfucking you tonight”

Said Greg. 

The whole ride to his old house, Bradley worried about his plans for the evening. He’d been waiting all week and he suddenly grew anxious that they would somehow fall through or some catastrophe would strike to prevent them from happening.

Before going inside Bradley rubbed around his eyes vigorously until they were red and puffy and glassy looking.  He went inside, hugged everyone he saw, kissed his fathers cheek and held his head as his father wept. He saw his old dog Chester, fresh from his most recent surgery, limping around. He looked at all the old photos of him with his mother and saw all the memories and stared at them and was dismayed by his lack of concern. 

Bradley nodded along to all the  old stories told about his mother, and smiled mournfully to all the people who wished their condolences. Finally, when mostly everyone had left, Bradley kisses his father goodbye, and made his exit. 

He raced home in his Audi with the electronic music blasting. He needed to make it there by midnight, when his guest was expected to arrive. 

By some freak occurrence, someone had parked on Bradley’s personally reserved spot at his condo. Bradley seethed with anger as he looped around to find a spot on the street. 

Finally, he did, and he left his briefcase in the car as he slammed the door and raced into the lobby and towards the elevator. He checked his watch. Is was exactly midnight. He was sweating profusely. 

The door opened to his floor and Bradley let a sigh of relief as he saw the lipsticked woman waiting by his door. She had a cheaply dyed red hair colour and extensively long nails and eyelashes and muscular thighs which showed through her short skirt.

“You Bradley?” 

She asked 

“I am. “

“You’re late.”

She said staring into his eyes. 

Bradley looked away from her as he walked over and opened up the door without saying anything as he did so. 

As soon as he closed the door behind them, Bradley spoke. 

“I’m so sorry. Please. Please forgive me. I’m so, so, so sorry. I’ll never be late again”

“Not good enough.”

“Oh please. Please don’t punish me.”

“Too late. You’re getting punished.”

“Nooooooooo” Bradley cried

As he was spanked and slapped and spat on in the face—As he had lit cigarettes extinguished into his back and his nipples pinched and his throat choked— Bradley didn’t once think about his mother.