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“Alright, but promise me you won’t freak out. Promise me that whatever I tell you now, and however it makes you feel, you won’t kill me on the spot and then rush out of here to kill him.”
I crossed my arms over my cheek and let myself fall against the backrest. This is getting interesting.
“So, you did something when I was two. Maybe two and a half. Something bad. Do you deserve to die for it?”
He shook his head, sadness and regret written all over his face. “Yes. But not today. I might still be of use to you, you know? Plus, your poor mother…”
“Spill it already!”
“We’d just moved to the US when he knocked on my door. Your mother doesn’t know. She wasn’t there that night. She’d gone to some neighbor to help her with the baby, a spoiled brat who cried all the time and hit his stupid mom in the face. Anyway, she wasn’t there, and to this day, I thank God he protected her.”
“What happened?”
“Well, as I said, he knocked on my door. I asked him who he was and what he wanted, he told me he was your real father, and I let him inside. I mean, if he was your real father, then maybe I got lucky and he wanted you, because I sure as hell didn’t.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I knew there was something weird about him. He was wearing this black cloak and these old-fashioned clothes… His eyes were strange. Like there was a fire inside them, a fire that had been burning non-stop for too long and was so close to driving him insane. He asked to see you, so I woke you up and brought you into the living room. You had no idea what was happening. He said he knew I didn’t want you. That I didn’t want any children, ever. He said he could see it in my eyes. And even though he knew so many things about me and my family, he was right. I didn’t want children, and you were a burden. Lena had made a mistake when she came up with the idea to adopt you, but I made an even bigger mistake when I let her convince me. ‘She’s Katia’s daughter,’ she’d say. ‘Remember Katia and how much you cared about her. She’d want us to have her.’ Bla bla bla. Bla bla. Whatever. And here was this guy now, claiming that he was your father and offering to take you off my hands.”
“And you believed him?”
“That he was your father? Oh, yes. He gave me a bunch of details about Katia that no one else could have possibly known.”
“What did you do?”
He was silent for a long moment. He drank his beer, and I let him. Eventually, he shrugged and continued in a much lower voice.
“I told him yes. He could have you. After all, you were better off with him, right? Better than with a family that didn’t want you.”
“Mom wanted me…”
“Lena is a martyr. Always has been. She felt it was her duty to save Katia’s only child. Good Christian and whatnot.”
“Okay. If you gave me to him that night, how did I end up back home?”
“I had this feeling…” He placed his elbows on the table and looked me in the eye. “There was something shady about him, and I couldn’
t place it. I followed him. I don’t know why. Maybe I wanted to make sure you were safe with the guy, or maybe I wanted to make sure you went with him and stayed with him. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I followed him, saw him taking you to his car, but just when I thought he was going to get you inside and drive off, he took out something that looked like a scythe. It literally looked like the ones my father used back home, in Bulgaria, to cut the grass for the sheep and goats. Only fancier. Then, I saw him slam the car door closed and drag you down the street.” He shook his head and ran his hand through his dirty blond hair. “He didn’t even bother to take you far. The first hidden alley he could find, he pushed you in there, and you took a couple of steps among piles of garbage, used syringes, and broken glass with your plump, tiny feet. Your chin had started trembling, but you weren’t crying. You were holding back the tears, because that was what I’d taught you to do. If you cried, you made me angry, and I’d only make you cry harder. So, you learned not to cry. You opened your little mouth to ask him something, or to tell him you wanted to go home. He didn’t give you the chance. He swung his scythe at you, aiming for your little throat. I yelled and ran to you, although I knew it was too late.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“It wasn’t.” He chuckled. “The second it touched your skin, the blade broke into a million shards. By the time I reached you, he was frozen in place, staring at the empty handle of his scythe. Scythe…” He huffed. “It was a stick. He couldn’t understand what had happened, and I couldn’t either, but I didn’t care. I grabbed you and ran out of there. Now I knew what he was. Grim Reaper. He was dressed like one, looked like one, hell! He even smelled like one. And he had a goddamn scythe. I thought he’d stop me, but he didn’t. I thought he’d show up again, but he didn’t do that either. For the next couple of years, I watched over you like a madman. I couldn’t forgive myself for handing you over to a murderer, even if that murderer was your real father. I couldn’t sleep at night, couldn’t have a life… I had to watch you every minute of every day. He never came, though.”
“I don’t get it. Something’s not right here. You’re lying to me.”
“I’m not.”
“You hate me. For as long as I remember, you absolutely despised me. Nah. This whole thing that you couldn’t sleep at night… I don’t buy it.”
“I’ve been the worst father a kid could have,” he sighed.
“You can say that again.”
“But I didn’t hate you. Even when I told you that I hated you, I didn’t. I hated that… I felt trapped because of you. Trapped by the guilt that I’d almost gotten you killed when you were just a toddler, and I had a responsibility to look after you and protect you my whole fucking life. I couldn’t sleep if you weren’t safe, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe… This fucking duty that your simple existence had placed on my shoulders… I could barely carry it. You took my life away from me. Because your goddamn father was a Grim Reaper, because he wanted you dead, and now that I knew, keeping you alive meant giving up my own life. Your mother did everything around the house, paid the bills, worked at the diner, kept it together for all of us. And I couldn’t help because I was too damn busy watching your every step, making sure you got to school safe, then back from school, and so on and on. This was my punishment. Until the end of my fucking days. To me, every day was that night. Every day could turn into that night. So, yes. I got angry, and frustrated, and… and…” He choked on his words. “And I started hurting you and my wife…”
“But Mom… Mom told me something else. She told me you hurt me because I reminded you of Katia.”
“That, too. But not because of your hair or your eyes, or whatever. Because that woman who gave birth to you was stupid enough to sleep with a motherfucking Grim Reaper. And you’ve grown to be so much like her, you have no idea. Katia always got everyone around her in trouble. Always. She did what she wanted, took what she wanted, and never listened to anyone. Look where that’s gotten her. She’s probably dead.”
