A Year Without Motion

The wind made the chandelier danced. Chills raced down my spine; the window was open; an invitation for the wind to enter the dining hall. Madame Beaumont placed the roasted hen and the mashed potatoes in the middle of the dining table.

“George put that book down we’re about to eat. And someone close that window.” Father commanded.

“But father I just started and this is…”

“We’re about to eat supper.”

Uncle Frederick stumbled across the red velvet floor. A clack reverberated around the big room as the bottle of whisky hit the table. He poured himself another cup.

“When is mother going to be back?” George inquired to Father.

“I don’t know dear; it could be a couple of weeks or a month. It’ll depend on the status of your grandparents’ health.”

I took a slice of hen using my knife and fork. The chicken didn’t submit to the knife, it was dull and tough and difficult to chew. Father was silently eating. George with the book beside him about aquatic wildlife kept his head down and quietly ate his mashed potatoes. Uncle Frederick burped.

“Brother, do you want one?” Uncle Frederick said to Father.

“No Frederick, but I sure can tell you that you’ve had too much of that awful drink.”

Aunt Marie pranced her way to her husband. Her curvaceous body was accentuated by the tight bodice of her dress. For sure she was only after our money, but no one would believe me if I said it out loud. Uncle Frederick gave her a big kiss in front of everyone. Their lips mashed and their tongues snaked around each other. I almost lost my appetite.

My bedroom was beside theirs; I didn’t get much sleep last night. The awful sounds of their rowdy lovemaking kept me up. Maybe I can sleep in George’s room tonight.

“I have a story to tell. It happened a couple of weeks ago.” Aunt Marie said as she seated herself down. “I was in my room, fixing myself up in front of the mirror when all of the sudden this crow came pecking on the window. That awful thing gave me a fright. So, I shooed it away but it wouldn’t go away. So, I opened the window and that did the trick and the crow flew away.”

She smiled to herself. Proud of her tedious storytelling then proceeded to dine with us. I hated her. No matter what she did, how she presented herself, or how she tried to insert herself into the family. The feelings of animosity never go away.

Madame Beaumont placed the dessert in front of us. The cream-filled éclairs were glazed with chocolate. Everyone in the family loved chocolate. Except for Aunt Marie. She would ramble on and on about how she needs to maintain her figure and how she needs to be healthy and fit and slim. Her mouth would never run out of words to say.

I took the fork and scooped up a slice of the éclair. Madame Beaumont’s specialty, it was heaven, the chocolate wasn’t overly sweet, she perfected the taste of chocolate. Where the chocolate is not too sweet that it would sting, or too bitter for it to be unenjoyable. The cream inside was light and fluffy and airy.

Father wiped his mouth with the table napkin, stood up, and left. Aunt Marie’s eyes trailed Father’s movements. She ate her dinner at a quicker pace.

“Darling, I forgot, I was supposed to do something for Mrs. Vanderbilt.” Aunt Marie said.

“Alright, you sure you don’t want an éclair? Madame Beaumont makes the best.” Uncle Frederick said.

“No no, I must do it now, it’s due tomorrow.” She stood up and left.

Red, blue, orange, yellow, with a little bit of black. The colors of the sky. Goodbye sun, hello moon. I can’t wait to stargaze tonight. George’s telescope is perfect for a night like this. Only if he would lend it to me. Maybe I’ll use some blackmail on him so I can borrow it.

George resumed his reading of the aquatic wildlife book. He trailed his fingers down the leather spine; he skimmed through the preliminary pages before settling in the first chapter. The book was thick and heavy. Only George has the needed patience to finish such dense books. This one, in particular, would probably take him a year or so to get to the last part.

A giant burp came out of Uncle Frederick’s mouth. He giggled at the relief of his alcohol-filled belly mixed with roasted chicken and mashed potatoes. An odd man, big and burly, with his beard unkempt and untrimmed. Though he has maintained his weight for his age, him being ten years older than Father, he still had no regard for his health.

I looked back at the window. The moonlight shined down on the garden; the pansies’ violet hue glowed; the illuminated cobblestone walkway leading to the house was trailed by fluorescent petunias of scarlet, white, and pink. Father didn’t allow us to go outside.

Uncle Frederick dragged himself out of his chair. Madame Beaumont came and began cleaning up the table. George was still here with me, too lost in his book to have any awareness of his surroundings.

In the morning, I sat myself down in the same seat beside Father. Madame Beaumont went inside carrying a full plate of jams; blueberry, raspberry, mango marmalade, blackcurrant, and strawberry. Uncle Frederick and Aunt Marie came inside the dining room together.

“George put that book down. You’ve been reading that for months, haven’t you finished it?” Father spoke.

“Father, I’m halfway through the book. Right now, I’m learning about the piranhas found in the Amazon river.”

“Well, put it down, we’re about to begin with breakfast.”

Uncle Frederick began coughing, it was loud and rough and dry. Everyone stopped in their tracks to look at him. He gave what appears to be an apologetic look.

“Brother, are you alright? You look ghastly.” Father said.

“I’m alright, I caught a cold that’s all.” He sneezed and a bit of snot came out of his nose.

Father wasn’t convinced about Uncle Frederick’s statement. He glanced at him with a stern look throughout breakfast. Madame Beaumont came in, a letter in hand, she gave it to Father.

“Who is it from?” George inquired.

“From your mother.”

After reading, he handed the letter to me. George stood up and walked towards where I am.

My Dear Beloved Family,

I know that I haven’t been home in months so please bear with me. Your grandparents are very sick. The doctors don’t know the reason, they seem so incompetent and untrustworthy. They said they’ve tried everything but I don’t really believe it. Just know that it would take a little bit more time before I come back home.

There are people around here getting sick with the same illness as your grandparents. Pray that I don’t get sick as well, other people have said that this virus is highly contagious and is airborne. So be cautious and stay indoors. I’ve overheard that the virus has spread to our town. Hopefully, it won’t reach our home, and that everyone inside the house will be safe from this infectious disease.

To my little boys who are not so little anymore. I love you both very much. Take care of your father for me, and be kind to your Uncle Frederick and Aunt Maria, send my regards to them. Also say hello to Madame Beaumont for me, tell her I miss her chocolate éclairs. I don’t know what to say anymore, I’m just rambling on. But I promise you that we will see each other soon. And I will give you both very big hugs.

Love, Mother

P.S. I know what you are doing

I handed the letter back to Father. The news still digesting inside my mind, I don’t know what to make of it. But I only know that Mother isn’t going to come home anytime soon. What did she mean by her last line? I took a quick glance at Father. His shoulders were bunched up. Normally, he was liquid in his movements. Always an air of elegance and poise, a picturesque gentleman.

At lunch, George appeared from the kitchen door, pale and in a state of shock. He made his way towards me. Took the chair and sat down as he attempted to catch his breath.

“I just saw Father.” He spoke. “He… he was with… he was… Jesus Christ.” He leaned back on the chair. “What on earth are we going to do? I mean…” tears started forming in his eyes, “What will we tell mother? What are we going to tell Uncle Frederick? What’s going to happen now?”

“What’s going on?” I asked. His word vomit did not reveal anything. And I don’t like it when George starts crying. He looks like a helpless kitten stuck in a heavy downpour with no one to rescue him.

“I just saw Father in bed with Aunt Maria.” George said.

“What!?...” My heart was about to come out of my chest. “When!?...” I felt faint, my vision doubled. “How!?”

“Just now while I was about to go downstairs. I made my way across the hallway and heard thumping noises from Father’s room. The door was slightly ajar so I took a peek and –”

“Jesus Christ.” I exhaled. What on earth are we going to do? Why would Father do this? My hunch was right about Aunt Marie. I knew not to trust her the first time she stepped through the front door. What now? How will we live with this?

Madame Beaumont came into the room with our lunch; smoked salmon with a side dish of broccoli and carrots. The table placement was already arranged. I’m not sure if Madame Beaumont overheard any of the words we were saying. Her round-shaped green eyes told nothing. George gripped the edge of the table while he took deep breaths to calm himself down.

“Are you alright Master George?” Madame Beaumont asked.

“Yes, I’m alright just a little bit tired that’s all nothing to worry about.” He said at a speedy pace.

Father appeared from the door. His collar was out of order and his shirt was wrinkled. George stood from his seat. Defiance written all over his face, his fist clenched and his face turned red.

“George are you alright?” asked Father.

“Yes Father, I’m alright, I’m just not hungry. Excuse me.”

“Where is everyone else?” Father said.

We ate lunch in a thick disquieting quiet that was unsettling my nerves and made sweat drip down from my forehead. I didn’t know what to feel or what to say around Father. His square jawline moved as he chewed his food. Aunt Marie burst through the door.

“Gabriel, come quick! It’s Frederick, he’s fallen very ill, he can’t get out of bed!”

“Good Lord!” Father exclaimed.

They both ran out of the dining room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I looked behind me towards the window. The sun was setting. The same colors filled the sky, similar to that day… I don’t remember what specific day that was. It was almost suppertime.

George sluggishly went inside the dining hall. The book about aquatic wildlife was in his hand. He dropped the book to the table in an exploding thud as if it was the heaviest thing in the world.

“Just finished the book.” He said to me.

Aunt Marie slowly walked in. Tear-stained cheeks and red eyes were painted on her porcelain-skinned face. She was followed by Father. He too looked like a broken man. But I felt no pity for the two who went through the door. We sat around the dining table in silence. George in front of me, Father seated to the far end left of the table, and Aunt Marie seated to the far end right of the table.

Madame Beaumont walked through the door, a giant bowl in hand, ready for supper; beef bourguignon. She placed the massive bowl in the middle of the table. The smell of red wine, garlic, and onion permeated throughout the room. But no one seemed to have the appetite.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Madame Beaumont said to my Father.

“Thank you.” He replied.

We let our supper cool. In the quietness of the room, I heard the sounds of a carriage pulling up from the driveway. Excitement rushed through me. She’s home.

“Excuse me.” I spoke.

I stood up from my chair. My legs shaking and my knees felt weak and rusty. In caution, I took my first step then another. And the next thing I knew I was out of the door.