Hunt Me Down - Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Nathaniel’s POV
“So, I was about to turn Josh into a frog?” Vallery asked, licking the remnants of ice cream from her spoon.
“Yep.”
“And Hunter wanted to give you love bites?” She grinned. “Well, that part of the dream might come true.”
I glared at her but she just laughed and went on with interrogating me about my dream.
“What were mom and dad?”
“They were not in it.”
“Really? Mom ought to be in there; she dotes on you whenever she has the time and sometimes when she doesn’t, so I’d imagine she’d invade your dream. No surprise there was no sign of dad though.”
She got up from her seat and took our bowls and spoons to wash, grimacing as she stared through the window next to the kitchen sink.
“Why are you frowning?” I asked my twin.
“It’s October – a typical October day, not like the ones we’ve had lately – and Hunter is throwing out the trash naked.”
I jumped off my stool and ran to the window.
“He’s not naked,” I protested testily. “He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”
“He’s too naked for the season,” she justified. “Love how you rushed to check him out though.”
“I was just surprised because it’s cold outside,” I replied, turning away from her and walked back to my seat. “Do you think he really would’ve fully undressed the other day?”
“Nah, I think he was just messing around,” she turned off the tap. “But if you want to see him naked, just tell him so, bro; I’m sure he’d love to comply,” she winked at me.
“You might want to dress into something that doesn’t show off your belly button, Val,” I said, trying to steer her thoughts in a different direction. “Aunt Sarah is coming today, remember?”
“Lousy change of topic, Nat, reminding me Satan herself is coming over today.”
“Don’t forget about the pooping machine and our beloved cousin,” I reminded.
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to!”
*****
“Why do we have to stay in the yard again?” Val whined, leaning on an almost leaf-less cherry three.
“Because your father is going to arrive with Great Aunt Sarah any moment now,” our mother answered, her hands tightening her light brown bun of hair.
“But why do we have to wait outside in the cold?” Val asked again.
“You can always buy a proper coat, Vallery,” mom noted.
“What’s wrong with this one?” My sister pointed at her jacket.
“It’s not a coat, Vallery; it’s a denim jacket. And it’s black,” our parent added once more criticizing my twin’s color of choice.
“It contrasts with my t-shirt,” Val unfolded her jacket to display a bright pink top.
“Is that your bellybutton that’s showing?” Mom almost shouted. “No wonder you are cold! Go upstairs and dress into something… Oh, no time for that now,” she murmured. “They are here.”
As soon as dad’s car stopped in front of us, a lanky-looking creature jumped out to open the door for a person much larger than themself. Our Great Aunt Sarah exited the vehicle with considerable difficulty – as is to be expected of a woman with her generous proportions – clutching in her gloved hands a brown, low-growling ball of fur.
“Aunt Sarah! How lovely to see you,” mom greeted, kissing each of the other woman’s puffy cheeks while attempting to keep a distance from the small dog.
“Lovely to see you too, my dear,” the stout one replied in a plummy voice and lowered her pet to the ground. The four legged fella darted towards the rose bushes, sticking its wet nose between their leaves.
“That little idiot,” Vallery murmured. “He’s going to prick his muzzle over there. Then again, he’s a spoilt little rat; it might do him good.”
“You better pray Aunt Sarah doesn’t hear you,” I muttered just as quietly.
“Oh, but I heard her,” a thin voice retorted and we turned around just in time to see our slab-sided cousin putting his round glasses over his pale eyes; think Harry Potter about this, except Harry looked sweet and innocent with them and Bernard simply ridiculous. “And I know how much our beloved Aunt would love to hear about it.”
“Remember what happened the last time you told on me?” My twin asked, taking a step towards our now very faint cousin. He nodded. “Want that to happen again?”
The boy shook his head and my sister grinned.
“Good,” she said then went on so that only I could hear her: “I’ve done so many things to this guy, I can’t remember which was the last of them; thank God he knows.”
“Bernard, come! I need you to carry my bags inside,” Great Aunt Sarah commanded in a tone less gentle than she’d use on her dog. “What is the matter, boy? You look so pale. Are you ill again? The boy is always ill,” she commented, this time talking to my parents instead of my cousin. “Not like your Nathaniel; healthy in body and mind. So smart that boy of yours. The family is lucky to have him.”
“Yeah… Lucky…” Bernard sneered and dragged one of Lady Satan’s enormous suitcases towards our door.
“Did you win any awards since we last met, Nathaniel?”
“No, Aunt Sarah; I haven’t entered any contests,” I replied inwardly groaning as I knew she’d want a full report on all my academic achievements.
“But you are on the honor’s list?”
“Yes, Aunt Sarah.”
“Good! You have a…”
“What is your rat doing on my lawn?” A familiar hoarse voice rumbled.
“I beg your pardon?”Great Aunt Sarah placed a hand over her chest.
“Your rat,” Boot Camp Aunt pointed at the shivering figure of Poofie with her smoke-free hand, “on my lawn.”
Hunter – in the same tight green t-shirt he was when he was throwing out the trash earlier – was also outside, the left corner of his lips tilted up as he anticipated an amusing fight. I wished I had his faith that this quarrel would be an entertainment, but I was pretty sure it would end with a very dissatisfied Satan ranting and complaining while my family and I were forced to listen.
“It’s not a rat; it’s my purebred dog,” Aunt Sarah protested in a cold tone.
“Whoever sold you that thing, robbed you blind,” Betty concluded and both my sister and Hunt laughed. I on the other hand began to mentally prepare a speech with which to appease our visitor.
“I will not stand here and listen to some uneducated, lower middleclass American,” Sarah spat out the last word.
“Please…” Mom tried to interrupt before things got out of hand. I looked around for dad but he must’ve taken pity on Bernard as my parent was nowhere to be seen and most of our guest’s luggage was gone.
“Then get your rat and go somewhere else,” Betty cut my mom off. “And don’t forget the present he left in my flowerbed,” she pointed to the reason why we called Poofie a pooping machine.
The two large women stared at each other. They looked like a pair of sumo wrestlers, ready to lurch at one another in an attempt to balance out their opponent. Either that or two extremely heavy weight boxers.
In the Reed’s yard, wearing a burgundy designer coat with a grey neckpiece, the cost of which equals an average monthly salary, is Laaaaady Sataaaaan! In the Harris’s yard, wearing a washed-out brown tracksuit and what appears to be a stained pale yellow t-shirt – Boot Camp Aunt Bettyyyyyy!
God, I sounded like Val!
“Oh, leave the darn bags, Bernard,” Sarah demanded, probably coming to the conclusion that the ‘lower middleclass American’ was not worth her time.
“Yes, Aunt Sarah,” he used the smarmiest of tones as he dropped the suitcase eager to in a hurry to fulfill her new demand and Betty entered her home smiling like a winner.
“You were supposed to watch over Poofie,” our Great Aunt then reprimanded the boy. I would’ve felt sorry for him if the little weasel wasn’t here on his own volition.
“Yes, Aunt Sarah.”
“How did you let my Poofie get into that crude woman’s yard?”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Sarah, I…”
“I don’t want your excuses, Bernard. Get the dog out of there and clean the obese woman’s yard.”
“Obese?” Vallery repeated, her eyes widening. “Did she really just call Betty that?” She wondered aloud.
Betty was most definitely not the next American model – in fact she weighted more than half a dozen American models – but this was a clear case of the pot calling the kettle black.
“And don’t forget the bags, boy,” Sarah barked and allowed my mom to lead her inside. “What on Earth made you leave them on the porch?” She queried as she stepped foot inside our house.
“I’m sorry…” he began, but our relation was already gone.
“Remember when I told you I wanted to meet your Aunt?” Hunter asked, no longer smirking.
“Yes?” I prompted for him to go on.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he concluded, turning around to walk into his house while completely ignoring our cousin. “Good luck!”
“We should probably go in as well,” I suggested with a sigh. Val and I dragged ourselves towards the living room with a speed that a ninety year old could easily keep up with. Once we entered, we realized mom had served tea and a conversation – unfortunately focused on me – had ensued.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if your Nathaniel ends up in the Parliament,” Great Aunt Sarah was just saying my mom politely nodding at her words. “He’s got all the qualities, except for being firm. And you have to be firm, Nathaniel, or you will amount to nothing in this life.”
“I’ve always believed, Aunt Sarah,” I began as I sat on a sofa, “that a person should strive to find a compromise.”
“A compromise?” She snorted. “That would not make you into a politician.”
“Or a lawyer,” my father added.
“He could always become a doctor,” mom did not miss the opportunity to point out her dream work for me.
“Or a writer,” Val noted as she slumped on the last remaining sofa. Her words of course made all the adults grimace.
“A writer? Don’t be ridiculous, girl!” our Great Aunt snorted again. “This isn’t the age of writers. You only get wannabe authors who waste everyone’s time with their scandalous scribbles. Unless he brings back the love towards classical literature, I don’t want to hear him becoming a writer.”
“You? And what about what he wants?” Val asked, crossing her arms over her chest. I put my finger in front of my lips, begging her to keep quiet, but she just subtly shook her head.
“The boy should think of the family first. Whatever he does with his life must reflect well on the rest of us. And I’m sure he will; he’s not the type to cause a scandal. Not like those disgusting perverts… Ugh! It makes me sick just to think of it! And to publish that in a magazine I once deemed reputable? Disgusting!”
“What on Earth are you talking about, Aunt Sarah?” Mom asked and I sighed, relieved that I was no longer in the limelight. Once Satan started complaining, she could go on for hours; it was unpleasant to listen to but whatever insulted her this time – however minor it would seem to the rest of us – would keep her mind occupied and away from thought about me and what she deemed a suitable future for me. I relaxed and took a cup of tea, sure that whatever topic she’d now pick was unlikely to have any effect on me, except perhaps annoyance.
“Well, haven’t you seen it?” The old lady wondered then replied to her own question. “Of course you haven’t seen it, you are in America now, but haven’t you heard of it?”
“Heard of what?” My mom questioned again, leaning towards our guest. Seeing the other woman’s ardor had made her curious instead of simply inquiring to be polite.
“The Value magazine and its scandalous cover with a pair - well, I suppose some would call them a couple – with a couple of those disgusting homosexuals, kissing!” I almost choked on my tea. “Can you believe that?” She went on, her voice raising in proportion with her displeasure. “As if anyone would want to see an abomination such as that.”
I tried to protest that the love between two people, regardless of their genre, was far from being an abomination. I wanted to protest, but a certain tightness in my chest and throat rendered me incapable of any coherent speech.
“And to think the magazine would condone instead of condemning such an ungodly behavior…” Satan was obviously not done. “It is absolutely disgusting. Surely you agree with me, my dear?”
“Well,” my mom placed her teacup on the table, smoothing her skirt with her free hand.
“Mom?” I managed to croak out despite of the invisible weight which caused pain to my chest. For some unfathomable reason, I was shaking.