Silent Pretty Things

by O. J. Lovaz

  “Actually, it’s rather complex how that came to be. It took Hitler a lot of political maneuvering, deception, and intimidation of his opponents to finally ascend to power. But, yes, he did manage to amass considerable popular support. What’s most scary is that this was a country that already had democratic institutions and a diverse society before the rise of Hitler.”

  “Exactly, so how did he do it?” asked Frank.

  “Well, he knew how to exploit people’s fears and frustrations; and he managed to silence a divided field of political opposition. He was a cunning politician, and a bully.”

  “There’s a lesson for us there, don’t you think?” Frank asked.

  “Oh, definitely. Something like that could have happened anywhere, could happen again, and could happen to us. All you need is enough frustration, fear, ignorance, and hatred. The cunning manipulator is just the final ingredient.”

  “Irrational thoughts are the strings by which the puppeteers control their subjects.”

  “That’s very true,” said Michael. “Who wrote that?”

  “I just came up with, but really, you did.”

  “Well, you sure summed it up perfectly.”

  “There’s irrational thinking aplenty in our own country,” Anna interposed, suddenly overcome with an impulse to challenge the oracles. “How come we haven’t seen an oppressive regime installed in America?”

  “Would we even know if we were sliding into one?” Frank asked.

  “Good question,” Michael said somberly.

  “Michael, would I be correct in saying that the only way to guarantee social progress is to eradicate irrational thinking, which engenders anger and hatred?”

  Anna looked through the corner of her eye at the rearview mirror and saw Frank looking at Michael, awaiting his response. He’d keep this up until his curiosity was fully satisfied. He wanted to measure him up. Hopefully he wouldn’t take things too far.

  “It would be amazing if we could do away with most of the irrational thinking that plagues us, but whenever we start talking about eradicating a group’s perspectives, however backward they might be, we risk becoming a version of what we are trying to defeat.”

  Anna tried to suppress the little smile creeping up on her face. If this was going to become a debate between these two men, some primeval ritual disguised as intellectual exchange, she must remain neutral.

  “Maybe eradicate is too strong a word,” Frank said. “What I mean is that we must fight disinformation with facts, and irrationality with reason.”

  Michael nodded. “True, and that’s an uphill battle because irrationality and zeal tend to go hand in hand.”

  “Ah, brilliant. The more unreasonable and absurd the beliefs, the more irrevocably attached to them people become.”

  Michael chuckled. “You have a way with words, Frank.”

  Frank kept on, “Religious fundamentalism is the most glaring example. Believers encapsulate themselves in dangerous fantasy worlds where it’s okay to deny even the most basic scientific facts if they threaten their literal interpretation of scripture. Some have even taken their kids out of school so that they won’t learn science. Some contributors to society they are creating!”

  Michael laughed heartily. “Yeah, I get you man. That stuff bothers me too—it does. But how do you combat that without attacking religion in general?” A warm, earnest tone of voice had replaced Michael’s scholarly manner.

  “Well, sometimes, I wonder if religion itself must be overcome for humanity to achieve its true potential. All it does is divide us. Think of all the wars and violence religions have justified throughout our history. It’s a hefty price we have paid just so that people can ease their anxiety about death.”

  “I take it you’re an atheist, then.”

  “Yes, I certainly am. Aren’t you?”

  Michael answered after a brief pause, “A historian being a true believer of religious dogma would be every bit as contradictory as an evolutionary scientist being one.”

  Anna felt like partaking in the conversation. “I still think that someone or something must have pushed the red button on that big bang that got everything going. I don’t know. Maybe God grew tired of us a while ago. Who knows? Maybe he’s busy creating a better version of us on some other planet.”

  Michael had a quizzical look on his face, half amused, and half stunned.

  Frank threw himself back and laughed hysterically, like a mad hyena. “Ah, that’s funny, and dark, and then funny all over again—like a layered dessert. Brilliant!”

  Sarah shuffled in her seat and began speaking slowly with an inkling of subdued irritation. “Well, if it’s my turn, I’m a harmless Catholic who goes to church occasionally and sort of abides by the teachings of the church; I’m not a saint, but probably a solid candidate for purgatory—ha! Now, Frank, stop torturing us with your atheist inquisition. I’m not quite ready to believe that when I die, that’s it, like a bird or a dog.”

  “Oh baby, we are just talking. You said something important just now. We humans are cursed with the awareness of our own mortality, and it sucks! Our minds cannot comprehend not existing—it’s terrifying. So religion came to fix that with promises of eternal life. Being an atheist is staring into the abyss without blindfolds.”

  “I think I’ll take a nap now, while you guys decode all of life’s mysteries,” said Sarah.

  “Ooh, you’re feisty today! Come here.” A loud smooch was heard. “We’ll change the subject immediately, my queen. What shall we discuss next? Art, perhaps?”

  “Talk about whatever you want. Just lay off politics and religion. Jesus! That’s common sense, isn’t it? Discussing politics and religion leads to disagreements and hurt feelings.”

  “It can lead to bruised faces and broken bones, too—I should know.”

  They were all silent for a moment.

  “What was that about bruised faces and broken bones?” Michael asked.

  “Oh, um, right…” Frank made eye contact with Anna through the rearview mirror. “Have you told Michael about…”

  “About Dad?” Anna finished the question. “Yes, I’ve given Michael some idea of the not-so-great dad he was to us.” She tried to communicate to Frank, with her eyes, the importance of steering off the subject as swiftly as possible.

  “Yes, well, I don’t want to go too deep into that rabbit hole, but let’s just say that Dad was not fond of debate. He mostly enjoyed us agreeing with him on everything and didn’t take well to his son challenging his opinion on religion, politics, or what to have for breakfast.”

  “And when you did, he beat you up?”

  “Yeah, he did beat me up a couple of times. You could say I wasn’t a fast learner.”

  “Sounds like you had it pretty rough. Anna, in your line of work, you probably see a lot of kids with tough situations that you can identify with, right?”

  “Toxic parents. Abusive parents. Disgusting relatives. Yes, I’ve seen it all.”

  Anna paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “A few months back, there was this eleven-year-old kid that had been displaying extreme anxiety. Every time he got a C, or even a B-minus on a test, he would cry his eyes out. It just wasn’t normal. It got to the point where teachers dreaded giving him any grade below a B-plus. So, I met with him a few times and he kept saying that his father was a very stern perfectionist and that he punished him for any bad grades. He wouldn’t say anything more.

  “One time, I asked him how his father punished him, and he looked down and thought for a while, too long, before responding. He said his father grounded him and took away his computer, but I knew that was a lie. And so, I asked the kid’s father to come to the school to meet with me.

  “The man came. He was short but built like a tank, and his face looked aggressive the entire time he was there with me. He gave me the creeps. I told him about his son’s excessive anxiety over his academic performance and the crying fits. After listening for a long while to this guy’s empty
talk about building character and stuff like that, I asked him directly about how he reprimanded the kid. He recited scripture to me! He gave me a hideous righteous smile, and said, ‘Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you strike him with a rod, he will not die.’ I looked it up later; it’s from the book of Proverbs.

  “Anyway, the day after I met with his father, the kid shows up and asks me to please never ask his dad to come to the school again. I asked him why and he said that his father had gotten very angry. Right then, I noticed a red spot on the underside of his left arm, partially covered by the sleeve of his shirt. I asked him to pull up his sleeve, and that’s when I saw a fresh, big nasty bruise.

  “I talked to the school director, and we got the Department of Social Services involved in the matter. The bruise we saw was only the tip of the iceberg. This kid’s father had repeatedly lashed him with a leather belt, and he had bruises all over his back. And that had been only the latest of several beatings.”

  As Anna concluded her story, she felt a knot on her throat, and her voice faltered. “Ugh, I really shouldn’t have told you that story.”

  “Oh my God, that’s horrible,” said Sarah. “I don’t think I could ever do what you do for a living. It would kill me.”

  Michael seemed stirred. “I’m not sure that I could, either,” he said. “What made you want to be a school psychologist?”

  “I just wanted to help kids learn to cope with the hard stuff life throws at them. I mean, a lot of kids have great childhoods, full of love and precious memories; but that, which seems like a human right to me, is denied to many children. Life is hard enough. A happy childhood should be part of the deal. You get one guaranteed happy season. Good luck with the rest.”

  “And that happy childhood was denied to you? Do you feel that way?” Michael asked.

  “I do. I do feel that way. Very much so.” Anna felt like a little girl answering Michael’s question. The same strange sensation of vulnerability from her dream possessed her for a moment, and she sensed that she was wide open, that she had bared her soul, and now, all could see the sad, scared little girl, and her anger.

  No one spoke for the better part of the next ten minutes. Anna kept looking straight at the road. She was well aware that Michael was looking at her, but she wanted to be left alone with her thoughts for a while. She couldn’t help resenting Michael for that pointed question. She felt dissected, scrutinized, like one of his topics for discussion.

  She peeped at Frank through the rearview mirror and saw him looking back at her with a smile that brimmed with approval, complicity, and satisfaction.

  For the next couple of hours, they only had fragments of conversation, mostly initiated by Sarah, and focused primarily on the scenery and things of interest they passed on the road. They drove through some beautiful mountain scenery, which prompted Sarah to reminisce about a trip she had taken with her parents to the Smoky Mountains when she was sixteen years old. That got them talking for a good fifteen minutes. Anna and Michael took turns asking Sarah questions about the trip and her parents. She’d grown up an only child, and though she had evidently tried to play it down, it was clear that her childhood had been blissful, something to be envied.

  As soon as they crossed the Massachusetts state line, Frank suggested stopping for lunch. “Am I the only one here who is starving?” he asked. He wasn’t. Anna herself had had a light breakfast and was quick to endorse her brother’s proposition. Sarah suggested stopping at a burger joint, an idea that appeared to be to everyone’s liking.

  Walking from the parking lot to the restaurant, Frank caught up to Anna and whispered to her ear, “I like this dude. He has substance, and Dad would fucking hate him.” He sniggered heartily, hiding his face behind her, like a teenager.

  They had their burgers and fries and milkshakes too. Later, in the car, Sarah leaned on Frank and dozed off. It wasn’t long before Frank was asleep too. Michael leaned toward Anna and kissed her bare shoulder tenderly.

  “You’ve been kind of quiet. Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m…fine. Just lost in my own thoughts.”

  “Did I maybe say something out of order? I feel like I may have.”

  “Um, not really. I’m a bit complicated sometimes. You’re liable to trip a booby trap every now and then through no fault of your own.”

  “So, I did say something, then.”

  “I guess I’m used to sitting exclusively on the psychologist’s chair. I’m not too comfortable sitting on the opposite side, getting analyzed.”

  “Ah, I had a feeling that I had crossed a line. I’m sorry. I really am. I can get carried away with my curiosity, and as you must know, I am especially curious about you.”

  “It’s great that you’re curious, and even greater that you’re curious about me. Don’t censor yourself on my account. I don’t want you to feel like you need to be walking on eggshells around me. That wouldn’t be healthy. I’d rather we risked having an argument than risk being overcautious and dull.” Anna looked through the rearview mirror to confirm that Frank and Sarah were still fast asleep.

  “So, I’ll just have to live dangerously, then.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “After all, what’s life without a little danger?”

  “Indeed.” She could almost read his naughty thoughts.

  “Yeah, don’t worry about your little transgression,” she said. “I have plenty of ideas as to how you can earn your atonement.”

  He tittered and said in a lower voice, “Oh, I’m sure you do. Are you sure these guys aren’t listening to any of this?” He turned around to look at them.

  “I think so.” She smiled. “Hope so.”

  It was just past 4:00 p.m. when they arrived at the hotel. Frank and Sarah had woken up a few minutes earlier when Anna hit the brakes hard at a traffic light that had turned red faster than she expected. They checked in and went up to their adjoining rooms.

  Sarah wanted to continue the nap she had started in the car so that later she would be ready to party in Boston. Michael decided to visit the shopping mall across the street and maybe buy something new to wear later. Both of them knew in advance that Anna and Frank needed to go see Diane alone for an hour or two before they all went out together.

  They were early, so Anna and Frank went down to the hotel’s restaurant to share a glass of wine before heading out to Diane’s. Sitting at the bar, Anna wondered what might come out of all this. What grand design could they conjure up to crack this case and get to the bottom of everything? In the end, she would either have to laugh at herself and blame her overactive imagination, or look into the bare face of evil, and call it Dad.

  “What are you thinking?” asked Frank.

  Anna sipped the wine that had just been served to her. “Mm, this is good wine.”

  “You look worried.”

  “Yes, I am. Why shouldn’t I be? I mean, aren’t you? What good do you think is going to come from this investigation of ours, all this scheming?”

  “Justice, that’s what, and maybe even a second lease on life for our poor mother.”

  “I don’t know. It’s not like Dad’s just going to disappear and let us all live happily ever after. And now, we got Diane involved too. Should we prove that this affair did happen, she will never reconcile with her mother.”

  Frank set down his wine glass. “We’ll deal with the consequences later. The truth must come out. The truth has value in itself; it isn’t just a means to an end.”

  Anna covered her face. “I just feel sometimes like we are driving off a cliff.”

  “Mm, you’re right—this is great wine. Hmm, driving off a cliff, sounds extreme, don’t you think? Anyway, what is this happy family we would be breaking up? You and I, we are family. Mom is a prisoner we would be rescuing. And Aunt Marlene, well, Diane doesn’t speak to her as it is; and if she was capable of betraying her sister so horribly, Mom should know. Whether she ever forgives her is Mom’s decision to make. We have no right to
take that away from her.”

  “Damn, Frank, must you always be right? I’ve always admired your principles, your moral compass; but sometimes, I fear your tenacity, your stubbornness. We humans aren’t supposed to just ignore our doubts; often they are sensible reminders that we don’t have all the answers, that we could be wrong. This thing could spiral out of control. Could you at least concede that?”

  “Sure, we’re not infallible. We cannot control how Mom might react, or what Dad might do. But we can control what we do, and we can plan for contingencies. First, we get to the bottom of this mystery. If our worst fears are confirmed, we don’t have to do anything right away. We can talk to Mom first, alone, outside of the house, and not let her go back. I know that’s what you’re worried about, and for good reason, I might add. But don’t fret yourself. We can and will be careful. And we will protect Mom, you have my word.”

  Anna had needed to hear those words. “Okay, okay, you’re making much more sense now. Planning for contingencies, pausing, thinking, being careful—that’s the language we need to use with Diane.”

  “And that’s what we’ll do.” Frank sipped his wine.

  “Good, I’m happy we got to talk first,” she said.

  “I love this wine. Oh, hey, we aren’t bringing anything to Diane’s. How rude of us. We should bring a decent bottle of wine to share with her.”

  “Good thinking,” said Anna. “Let’s get a bottle of this one.”

  As they departed the hotel, Anna felt a sense of clarity that she hadn’t experienced since that awful Sunday at her parents.

  CHAPTER X

  Standing in front of the door with the number 707, Anna and Frank looked at each other in silence before he knocked. In Frank’s other hand, a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. The door opened, and their young cousin Diane stood facing them, her face glowing, expressive eyes wide open as she spoke.

  “Hey, cuz. You’re here,” she exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around Anna.

  “Look at you,” Anna said. “You were barely a teenage girl last time I saw you.”