Absurd Tuna

Everything here is the intellectual property of the Website owner. Do not take in any form without permission. This draft is revised.

The house was dark when I entered. The darkness sent me an immediate vibe that the owner, my father, probably didn’t care for company. The opening of the door told me that the inside of the house wasn’t much warmer on the inside as it was outside. A fire in the fireplace would’ve been nice, but the coolness of the house gave me a prelude to just how warm of a welcome I was to expect.

The butler, Albert, let me in. Apparently my father hadn’t told him not to. I was vaguely surprised. My father didn’t forget to do much when it came to keeping bothersome people from his life. I wondered why the change of heart.

“Thank you, Albert,” I said softly. The aged man took my coat. He was still as careful about removing the sleeves as he had been over ten years ago. The only difference about how he had done it now versus how he did it then was simply a few wrinkles around him eyes and lips and the overall graying of his hair.

“How is he?” I asked as I turned to watch the man place the jacket inside the closet next to the front door, my eyes looking over the golden wood paneling that rose from the floor to the door knob. I could already tell that nothing had changed since I had left this place.

The money that bought this grand house was earned by my father. Before he retired, he had been a hot-shot criminal lawyer. Prior to mine and my brother’s birth, Father had had the case that had made his career. He had been a free, court-appointed lawyer. His name and picture had been splashed across the papers when he managed to get a presumed killer with a difficult case acquitted of all charges. He was offered so many cases that he was eventually able to open his own practice. He met and married my mother by the time he turned forty and I followed a year later.

The house and everything he owned was a testament to where hard work could get you. My father was a firm believer in the fact that good things never come easy. I supposed that was why he as such a hard ass.

“Ill, Raymond. The doctor was here this morning. He insisted that your father check himself into the hospital, but Mr. Reeds isn’t having it. I tried to talk him into going, but he believes that if he goes, he’s just going to put off the inevitable a little while longer.”

The look on Albert’s matured face told me that he was going to lose more than just his job when my father died. I had never seen anyone with such a tender expression when they were referring to my father. It was a little unsettling. The last person to look at him so dear had been my mother.

I winced ever so slightly as I entered the parlor and felt how cold it was in the sitting room. I was too much of a coward to go directly up and see my father, so I didn’t really mind that goose flesh was beginning to form under the nice dress shirt that I had decided to wear.

Deciding that I would reacquaint myself with the house I grew up in, I made my way into the sitting room.
The same dulcet hues that adorned the room could still catch my attention in the dark as easily as they could in the light. They were no longer as brilliant as they once were and I was sure that the addition of light wouldn’t prove me wrong. Maybe things did change. Maybe they just unwillingly changed with age. I wondered if my father was going to be the same way. Time changes things in ways we hardly realize.

I paused by a small end table and picked up the picture frame that almost seemed out of place for the layout of the room. I distinctly remembered that specific photograph being in the sewing room upstairs, where the frame matched the décor. Glancing at the picture, I recognized it as the familiar family portrait that had been candidly snapped one evening by a cousin at a family reunion. I looked no older than thirteen. Awkward, freckles, braces, gangly. My younger brother, Howard, still had the gleam of a child about him. Bright eyes, pudgy, cowlick.

The next thing that caught my attention sent a pang through my chest. My mother’s beautiful face was smiling up to my father. Her features were more well-defined than I remembered and the cloudy memory made me feel awful. It had been too long since I had a look at her. My mother always understood me. She was so much more kind than my father had been. I suppose I was her favorite and Howard was Father’s.

Howard was the shining beacon in my father’s eyes. He could do no wrong. Every decision he made was a good one. He always made plans that he intended to carry out. Howard planned everything with sickening precision and carried it out just as planned. His plan? Cornell for undergraduate study, to Harvard Law for post graduate studies, and then getting into the best known practice in Boston. The last I heard, which had been through a cousin a few months ago as I excluded him from my life after I left too, he had completed everything. My brother couldn’t not be on the right path.

I, on the other hand, took plenty of wrong turns trying to please Father after Mom’s death.

Looking back, perhaps the biggest catastrophe in my life was when my mother died. She was taken from us by leukemia my junior year in high school after a valiant battle. It was a shame that we hadn’t found it earlier. She died upstairs in her bed while I was at her side.

The moment she died, I lost the only person I felt that I could confide in. I lost the only person I could talk to about any problem that I face. I lost my defender against my father’s harsh words. I lost so much more than just my mother that day.

I placed the frame back down and shook my head. The picture was still in my mind. I didn’t have to look at my father to remember what he had been doing. He was showing off a fish that he had caught off of the side of the yacht. If I remember correctly, he threw it back into the water.

“Sir, Mr. Reeds will see you now.”

I jumped. I had hardly realized that Albert had left. I suppose it would be his job to alert my father to his visitors. I smirked and looked back at Albert. It felt so strange that I was being formally told that I could meet with my own father.

“You don’t have to be so formal, Albert. You packed my lunches in grade school. Don’t feel like we’ve grown apart because I’ve been away for so long.”

Albert’s expression hardened ever so slightly. “Fourteen years is a long time to be away.”

I nodded and walked from the sitting room over to the banister. Father’s room was in the west corridor. I felt my stomach clench at the thought of ascending the stairs.

“I bet Howie’s been here, hardly leaving the old man’s bedside.” My eyes were trained on my hand that was gripping the banister. Even in the dark, I could see the gold trim that adorned that oak.

“Young Howard has only been here once since learning of your father’s illness.”

I blinked and turned back to look at Albert. “Once?”

“He’s involved in several high-profile criminal cases, several of which force him to spend an excessive amount of time on the job. He does call every so often to check in.”

“That’s his father! Why hasn’t he been around more?” It didn’t make sense. Surely brown-nosing Howie would be here to watch him roll into the grave.

“Well, excuse my insolence, but you didn’t appear here until just now, Raymond. One might wonder why you haven’t been around more either. And who knows… if you were to talk to your family a bit more, you might understand why Howard isn’t here at his father’s bedside. ”

A strong sense of guilt coursed through me as I turned and angrily walked up the stairs, my hand trailing along the ice cold marble banister. It bothered me somewhat that Albert knew why Howard hadn’t been here with Father.

I had a reason for not showing up. Howard didn’t. It meant that Father put all his attention into Howard for nothing. He didn’t even care about the old coot.

But, then again, I didn’t either.

The whole reason behind my visit was that I wanted to see the old man one more time before he died. I reasoned that he would probably leave the bulk of his money to Howard, but I figured that if we could have a nice conversation before I left then he might throw a bit of something my way when it came time to finalize his will.

Before I knew it, I was standing outside of the large oak door that led to my father’s room. It once belonged to both of my parents, but ever since Mom’s death, it was just his room. I think this might be the first time I’d gone inside since Mom’s death. Father normally called me to his office when he wanted to yell—“see” me.

I raised my hand to knock on the solid doors, but I dropped it to my side. Why was I even here? He must’ve had a reason for letting to see me again if I was here. There was no way he had changed so much in such a short time span.

“Raymond, I know you’re out there. I could hear those shoes clunking down the hallway.”

I winced, but didn’t jump. The voice I heard sounded weak.

Opening the door, I peered inside to see my father in the dimly lit room. The man I saw certainly wasn’t the father I remembered. The father I had grown up with had been solid, muscular, well-dressed, held a cigar in one hand and a glass of brandy in the other. The man before me looked nothing like this. He was smaller than I remember. It almost felt like I was looking at the shell that once held everything my father was. It was almost like that a little bit of him slipped away over the years until there was nothing left but this shriveled little man on the bed, an oxygen mask over his face. I suppose the cigars and brandy didn’t help too much either.

“You’ve gotten fat,” he breathed as I watched one of his frail hands reach to turn on a light on the bedside table.

I rolled my eyes. “Nice to see you again after all these years too, Father,” I grunted as I shut the door behind me.

“I won’t lie and say that it’s nice to see you, Raymond. You’re nothing but a disappointment,” he wheezed as I watched the arm move slowly back and lazily lay itself over his chest.

Ignoring his comment, I turned my gaze to the room around me. I quickly saw that the room had lost none of the grandeur that I remembered from my youth. The same warm-colored hardwood floors were still there, appearing as though they’d been recently waxed. The yellowed lighting was ever so careful to just give the illusion of warmth, but the actual temperature was rather chilled. The deep red drapes blocked out any natural sunlight that would be allowed to flood in.

It was just as big and beautiful as it had been when my mother died here. It was a shame that Father was going to die in the same place. It was also a shame that such a beautiful room could be associated with so many bad memories.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a disappointment. Well, where’s your beloved Howie? I don’t see him here by your side.”

The features on the my father’s face darkened.

“Howard is almost as big a disappointment as you are.”

His quiet, disdainful words immediately grabbed my attention and I was looking back up at him. Howard… the one that wanted more than anything to please Father, Father’s favorite, he who did everything that Father wanted, was a disappointment?

“What?”

“I didn’t stutter! He’s almost as big a disappointment as you! You run away in the dark of the night to do frivolous things and he never comes by anymore. Too busy with his family and work to make time for the man that paid for everything he has. Look at the children I’ve been forsaken with!” His words were hateful, much more hateful than I thought directed to Howard could be.
“You make me sick,” I said, glaring at the man on the bed. Howard probably worked as hard as he could to become the man that Father had wanted and now even that wasn’t good enough for him? What did it take to be good enough in his eyes?

I watched my father narrow his gaze at me from behind the top of the oxygen mask. “Why are you here? Have you come to prove yourself to be an even bigger failure, Raymond? Is there some bastard child that I don’t know about? Do you need money?” He paused and smirked, a loud wheeze came from his mouth. “Is the band getting back together so you can make more of that garbage that you call music?”

My father hated that I dropped out of college to join a band. I didn’t think it was a mistake. Mom had loved my singing voice and the band had been offered a contract with an agency my junior year of college. I wasn’t going to turn down that opportunity. I was failing classes by that point anyway; I would’ve flunked out by the end of the semester, I was already on academic probation at Brown. I couldn’t turn down that opportunity.

But like all good things, it couldn’t last forever. The band broke up after three CDs and a few tours. Now I was living off the money that the band had made and, of course, it was drizzling away with each passing day. The fact I might’ve needed a little bit of money might’ve also driven me here in hopes of reconciling with my father. But, it didn’t appear as if that were going to happen.

“No. I’m here to see you before you die. Howard called and told me that I should see you and I did him a favor.”

My father’s chest shook as he took in another shaky breath. “You should’ve saved yourself the trip,” he muttered softly.

I felt my anger grow at the man’s words. Couldn’t he have been happy that I had come to see him? That I had put whatever hatred I had for him behind for just a few moments to see him before he shed his mortal coil? No, I supposed I had expected too much of him.

“Father, I hate you,” I said as I walked nearer to the fragile figure on the bed. My hands were clenched to my sides as I glared down at him. “You’re nothing but a miserable old fool. Lying there, dying, with no one at your side who loves you. You’ve shut everyone out. I hope you’re happy to go this way.”

His eyes hardened at my words. I had hoped that I had struck a chord with him. I didn’t expect him to change things for me, but I had the urge to open his eyes to what his life really was: nothing.

“Raymond… You are the biggest disappointment of my life,” he wheezed a moment later. “You couldn’t handle different opinions. You always ran to Mommy when I got to you. And after she died, you did everything in your power to—” he paused and wheezed, “to defy me. You wouldn’t listen to your father. Didn’t you think I knew what was best for you?”

My eyes widened. “‘Knew what was best’ for me?” I sputtered. “You never cared! You were so much more concerned with me making money than for my happiness! You hated me because you couldn’t get me to do what you wanted!”

“You still don’t get it, do you, Raymond?” he said before a fit of coughing overtook his small frame. “Still a spoiled child!” he spat the moment he could speak again. “You couldn’t appreciate what you had! You were a greedy child that always wanted more and you’d whine and cry when you couldn’t get it! You went out of your way to make me a ‘miserable, old fool’. You wanted to sit around—” another fit of coughing, “and have everything handed to you!”

I narrowed my gaze at the old man. So I was a ‘greedy child’? I wanted ‘everything handed’ to me, huh?

“I appreciate everything I’ve been given. You’re the one who couldn’t appreciate what you’d been given,” I said through gritted teeth.

It was by this point that I realized how absolutely tired that my father looked. I sighed and shook my head, taking a chair and pulling it over to my father’s bedside.

“Look, I don’t want to argue with you right now, Father,” I said finally. “That’s not why I came here.” I wanted to be the grown up here.

His gaze softened and he relaxed slightly into the bed. I noticed for the first time the sound of the oxygen hissing quietly. I wondered how long he had been in this kind of shape. It was so disheartening.

“How did this happen?” I asked, nodding toward the oxygen mask as I crossed my legs.

“Emphysema and heart disease, but you don’t care,” he rasped.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Why couldn’t you ever be happy that I was doing what I loved, Father? Why didn’t you try to nurture me at all? You cared about Howard.”

“Howard was making good decisions. I thought he had a good head on his shoulders at the time. He was going into a job that was steady. He was sure to get hired somewhere. I’ve never heard of a jobless lawyer. I’ve heard of plenty of penniless singers. You could be just as successful as he is if you would’ve stayed in school. But you didn’t. I wanted you to be able to take care of yourself. I tried to tell you I wasn’t going to be around forever.” His voice was quiet as he spoke. I wondered how much thought he had put into those words.

Again I felt a sense of guilt crawling through me. I was upset that he didn’t believe in me enough to make a good career as a singer, but I was also disappointed in myself that I didn’t see his opinion for what it was. My father worrying about my future if my own plans didn’t work out.

I didn’t have a backup plan. I still don’t. I was actually thinking about a reunion. Maybe hiring a new lyricist or even attempting to go solo. But if all of that didn’t work out, I had nothing.

“I followed my dreams. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There’s plenty wrong with it,” he spat. “It means that you don’t care about how you’re going to live your life. You got lucky, getting signed,” he said tartly, his eyes watching me intently.

I knew that I was lucky. But even after I’d proven to be successful, I still wasn’t any less of a failure. I supposed it didn’t matter.

“I did see you on Letterman,” he said a moment later. “You don’t hold a candle to Frank Sinatra. He was one of the greats. You aren’t.”

He had seen me sing? I didn’t think my father would’ve watched Letterman for more than ten minutes let alone stay tuned long enough to see my performance.

“You saw that?” I looked down at the floor wistfully. “I wrote that song for Mom.”

“I could tell by the song title, idiot,” he huffed. “Diana would’ve been ashamed if such an awful piece of crap were written for her. You could’ve done better.”

The fact that the man was insulting me seemed to just roll of my back at the moment. I was much more focused on the simple fact that he had actually watched me. He had listened to the lyrics. He had remembered it. It had stuck with him.

I shrugged my shoulders. I was glad that the argument he and I had had was now mostly over. It didn’t seem to matter that we had just been having such heated words.

“There was something I wanted to ask you about,” I said with sigh. I wanted to ask about his will. Now was probably the best time to ask… I mean, we weren’t fighting, were we?

“What?”

“Just out of curiosity, what’s the status of your will?”

Whatever color that remained on his aged face was now gone. He once again narrowed his gaze at me as an angry smirk distorted his wrinkled features.

“So that’s why you bothered to show up,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Hoisting himself into a sitting position, he pointed a finger at me as I heard a smug chuckle. “I knew it was a load of bullshit that you were coming back to see your old dad—”

“No, I was just curious! I—” I started, outraged that he was questioning my intent at all.

“Quiet! You think I’m a fool! Thought you’d come in here and get reacquainted with old Dad hoping he’d leave you everything, did you? Well, I have news for you! The same thing I told Howard! You two aren’t getting a penny! Everything’s being left to Albert and some charities! I knew you hadn’t changed, Raymond! Still a greedy child!”

My mouth dropped open. My father went into another fit of coughs, his accusing hand reluctantly falling down to grip his chest.

“No! I wasn’t trying to get anything from you! I was just curious!” I think I felt more hurt than curious. He was leaving his money to the butler over his sons.

The coughing didn’t calm, he heaved in a rasping breath before it started back up again. His hand once again shot out for me. This time the hand wasn’t accusing, it was asking for help.

He looked up at me. “Call—” he gasped, “911.”

I jumped out of my seat and leaned over my father. It was the first reaction that I had. He repeated the number to me and I nodded my head, reaching over and grabbing the receiver of the off-white telephone that sat next to him on the mahogany nightstand.

I held the phone up to my left ear as I reached over and dialed the number.

I paused as I heard the operator answer and ask about the nature of the emergency and looked over at my father and shook my head. With a sigh I placed the receiver on the nightstand. I gave my father a kiss on the forehead and left the room, the loud sounds of his coughing slowly ceasing behind me as I made my way down the hallway. The last thing I remember was seeing Albert rushing past me to my father’s room as I made my way down the stair case.