Chapter 69: reality 7: “the past”

reality 7: “the past”

 

15 Years Before

Ayn stared at the doll in his hands, his tiny fingers grazing the doll’s hairs. The seams on the doll’s hair were coming apart, some wayward strings getting loose and even breaking, creating a tiny hole. Pouting, Ayn pushed at the stuffing that was coming out. 

His father had given him this doll a few years ago and he had cherished it since. His mother didn’t seem to agree with him playing with dolls, but his father insisted and won the argument. He remembered his mother clicking her tongue in annoyance and glaring at both Ayn and his father.

Ayn studied the broken seams carefully. Would it be wise for him to get a sewing kit and fix it by himself? He didn’t want to trouble his mother or father. 

Getting up, he cradled the doll in his arms and made his way towards the closet located in the living room hallway. He was sure that there would be a sewing kit over there, since he’d seen his parents throwing random tools in there.

Just before he managed to open the door to the living room, he heard his mother yelling. “You’re a useless husband, you know that?”

Ayn froze on the spot, his hold on the doll tightening subconsciously. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard her scream like that to his father. He couldn’t understand what they were fighting about, but oftentimes he would sit down just outside the room and listen carefully. He might not understand it now, but when he was older…

“Harriet, I’m trying to provide for our family.” That was his father’s voice, gentle and placating. Ai peeked from between the small door opening and saw his parents sitting on the living room chairs, both on the edge of their seats.

His mother suddenly got up and caused Ayn to shrink back, worried that she had seen him and was going to give him an earful about eavesdropping. Fortunately, his mother was just standing up to further vent her anger. 

“Provide?! All you do is make those stupid games!” She placed her hands on her waist and continued to yell. “They don’t even make any money! I’m the one actually providing for this family!”

His father nervously ran a hand through his hair and stayed silent for a brief moment. Ayn didn’t understand it at the time, but his father couldn’t respond because his wife was speaking some truth. It was the truth that his father was officially unemployed, and all he did all day was fiddle around with his computer with little to no result.

His father, visibly more irritated now, also stood up. “Harriet, those games will work out, trust me. I’m also taking care of our son, I’m not doing nothing.” 

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She scoffed. “Really? All you do is fill his head with fantasy and nonsense. I’m supposed to trust you?”

“They’re not nonsense, Ayn loves those stories.” Ayn heard a tinge of anger from his father’s voice but didn’t understand the reason why he was angry. It was true that he did enjoy his father’s stories, they were all so lovely and interesting. Why did his mother hate them so much? Ayn wondered.

“It doesn’t matter whether or not he likes them, the problem is that you’re dodging your responsibilities as the head of the family. Do you have any idea how much the other ladies gossip about you? About how my husband is not man enough to provide for the family?”

“Harriet, I-”

“Forget it.” His mother interrupted, fuming with hot anger. She waved her hand in front of his face, turned around, and grabbed her purse from the couch. “I’m tired of it. Either act as a proper man or get out.”

Before his father had a chance to even reply, his mother had already slammed the front door shut. Neither son nor father knew where she was going and when she was coming back. After she left, his father looked visibly exhausted. His tense shoulders dropped and he kept sighing and rubbing his face.

Ayn didn’t know whether or not he should come in, but in the end his father’s eyes caught sight of him behind the door. With a smile, he gestured for his son to come over.

Gently, he lifted his son onto his lap and stroked his hair. “I’m sorry, Ayn. Did you…hear all that?”

Ayn avoided his father’s eyes and gripped the doll’s hand. He didn’t dare admit that he’d been eavesdropping like a bad child. His father observed his expression and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Ayn.” His father whispered, his voice sounding so strained and exhausted. “I’ll fix this. You don’t need to worry about a thing, alright?”

Not knowing how to respond, Ai could only nod his head. Then he pushed the doll to his father. “It’s broken.”

His father glanced at the torn seams and chuckled, a bit of vigor returning to him. “Then let’s fix it, shall we? Doctor Dad is on duty.”

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