The Antiques

by Kris D'Agostino

  “Some people don’t deal with it,” Armie said.

  Josef pulled the ice pack off his face and showed it to the camera. “I got beat up tonight.”

  “Josef, dear,” Ana said. “Come out of there. Come sit with us. I don’t like this.”

  “What is wrong with you?” Armie said.

  “Let me express myself.”

  “You’re drunk,” Armie said. “Go to bed.”

  “We should all go to bed,” Melody said. “The room is not right. It’s spinning away.”

  “I’m sad,” Josef said.

  “Bullshit,” Armie said. “You get sad when things don’t go your way. You’re not even upset about Dad.”

  “Whatever you say, Armand, you’re the expert. But I loved Dad, too.”

  Armie went to the doorway of the study. “You got everything you wanted. Even when we were kids. Two entrées at the restaurant because you couldn’t pick one? Two entrées!”

  “You’re accusing me of being hungry?”

  “Of being selfish.”

  “So what if I am? You should be a little. No one’s going to hand it to you, Armand, in case you haven’t figured that out.”

  “Stop calling me Armand. Seriously.”

  “Stop fighting,” Ana said. “Not tonight. Not tomorrow. I’m begging you.”

  “Do you both not care at all that you’re upsetting your mother?” Melody said.

  “Can’t you see, though?” Armie said. “He doesn’t care. At all. It’s just about him.”

  “You don’t seem to have many supporters with this theory,” Josef said.

  “I think everyone is upset,” Melody said. “It’s a sad thing. It’s okay to be upset.”

  “I don’t like the way you’re behaving,” Ana said. “Either of you.”

  Josef’s face looked alien to him on the computer screen. His eye and cheek stippled red, the first bits of swelling appeared. He pressed the ice pack against his face. “I think I’m severely misunderstood.”

  “You’re not posting this shit online.”

  “Oh, but I am.”

  “You are forbidden to post anything with me in it!” Melody said.

  “Keep your voices down,” Ana said.

  “Just delete it,” Armie said. “It’s a stupid idea. All of your ideas are stupid.”

  “Not all of them.”

  “Yes. All of them.”

  “At least I’ve got ideas. I’m not just putzing around in Mom and Dad’s basement.”

  Charlie came into the living room, trailed by Rey.

  “I’ll tell you what the problem is,” Rey said, “it’s that you think what you did was acceptable behavior!”

  “Oh, yes,” Charlie said, “more lectures about ‘acceptable behavior’! You had no right to tell me I couldn’t. And don’t give me the ‘I want what’s best for him’ bullshit. He’s a nuisance to you. That’s all he is. That’s all he ever was. He gets in the way of your movie watching, your lame culture. I know what it really is. You just want to boss me around as always. Make sure you’re in control of every little thing.” She made clawing motions with her fingers like she was spinning an invisible web upon the air.

  “That’s not fair. I care about that boy just as much as you do.”

  Charlie threw herself onto the couch beside Ana and drew her hands down her face, pulling at her eyelids. “Someone get me a drink.”

  “I think everyone’s had enough to drink,” Ana said.

  “Just take one of your chill pills,” Josef said. “It’ll make everything better.”

  Charlie turned on him. “Shut up! No one asked you, anyway.”

  “Whoa,” Josef said. “Maybe two are in order.”

  “What is this pills?” Rey said.

  “Nothing pills,” Charlie said. “My brother’s just being an asshole.”

  “You said you stopped. You told me the doctor said you didn’t need them.”

  “Hammerstein wants me on Enabletal,” Josef said. “They all want you on something. That’s how it works.”

  “Ha! No, I have stopped,” Charlie said. “I don’t have any. I wish I did.”

  “Is he filming us?” Rey asked.

  “Is Armie a pedophile?” Josef asked the computer. “Is that what the basement thing’s all about?”

  “Yes!” Armie said. “You figured me out!”

  “Why are you acting like this?” Charlie said to Josef.

  “I don’t think I’m the only one who wants to know the answer to this question,” Josef said.

  “You’re upsetting me,” Charlie said. “And you’re upsetting Mom.”

  “He doesn’t have to answer.”

  “You suck,” Melody said. She stood. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Just stop now,” Ana said. “Please. Everyone stop.” Her face crumpled and her eyes turned glassy. She took Armie and led him back to couch. “We’re burying your father tomorrow,” she said.

  “Technically we’re not burying him,” Armie said as Ana guided him away, “because we burned him up and now he’s in this thing.” Armie picked the clay urn up off the coffee table and presented it to everyone. “He’s right here!”

  “Put it down,” Ana said. “It’s bad luck.”

  “Bad luck?” Armie said. “Bad luck? It’s fine. Look. He’s in here. He’s living in this African thing now. Just like you wanted.”

  “You’re not being fair,” Charlie said.

  “What did you want me to do?” Ana asked.

  “Don’t anyone say anything bad to Mom right now,” Charlie said.

  “Can we go back to the kitchen?” Rey said. “I don’t think we were done with our discussion.”

  Charlie laughed. “Oh, I’m quite done.”

  “Do you think this is what I want?” Ana said to Armie. “Stop being a baby. This isn’t about what we want. It’s about what he wanted. I wanted to give him a proper burial! A Mass at church. A funeral. There’s no closure like this. How can I have closure? There’s nothing. It’s bullshit.”

  “He didn’t want it!” Josef snapped.

  “He didn’t want to be put in some tribal vase either!” Armie said.

  “I didn’t know what else to do,” Ana said. “I don’t want him just drifting around. He needs to get home.”

  “Everyone leave Mom alone!” Charlie cried. “How dare you? She didn’t do anything. If you’re angry at Josef or at me, fine. But you can’t be angry at her. It’s not allowed.”

  “Everyone grieves in their own way,” Josef said.

  “Stop saying that, you idiot!” Armie said.

  Josef came out of the study, laptop in hand, still filming. He turned the screen to face the room.

  “I’m gonna call my lawyer if you don’t stop filming me,” Melody said.

  “You can’t tell anyone you’re here,” Charlie said. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

  “Shit,” Melody said. “Okay, seriously, I’m going to bed. Fuck all of you, and you better not fucking post that shit online.”

  “Everyone look at the camera,” Josef said.

  “If you don’t turn off that computer,” Armie said, “I’m going to smash it.”

  “I’d like to see that,” Josef said.

  “You’re all insane,” Rey said.

  “Ha!” Charlie said.

  “It’s late,” Ana said, standing. “We should all just go to bed. Before this gets any worse.”

  “Oh, come on,” Josef said. “We’re just getting started!”

  “I’m tired,” Ana said. “And sad. We have a long day tomorrow.”

  “All I’m trying to do is grieve,” Josef said. “This is how I’m saying goodbye. This is how I’m grieving.”

  “You are a giant, gaping asshole!” Armie said. “Your whole life you got everything you wanted. It all broke your way. And now he’s dead and you can’t even take it seriously, can you? You can’t handle it.”

  “Oh, I can handle it. Can you?”

  “Your father
didn’t have favorites,” Ana said. “I don’t understand where this idea came from. He loved you all. Equally. He gave you all everything you wanted.”

  “Oh, come on, he hated me!” Armie said. “He never missed a chance to tell me.”

  “That’s not true,” Charlie said.

  “He was hard on you, he was,” Ana said. “Because he thought you had so much potential. We never had to worry about Josef. He was so hard on himself.”

  “That’s what everyone always says! Everyone always says, ‘Oh, he was hard on you because he loved you.’ Fuck that. I didn’t need him to tell me I could do better. Don’t you think I know I fucked up? That I live in the basement, as everyone likes to point out? I don’t have a job. I do nothing.”

  “Please stop,” Ana said.

  “I hate him,” Armie said. It was unclear to whom he was referring.

  Abbott appeared at the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes and wearing nothing but a pair of My Little Pony briefs.

  “Now you’ve done it,” Ana said.

  “This is exactly why I didn’t want him here,” Rey pointed out.

  “Fuck you,” Charlie said. She went to the stairs to collect her son. “It’s okay, sweetie.” His legs wrapped around her torso, his face bewildered. He was too tired and confused to protest.

  “Daddy?” the boy said.

  “Yeah,” Rey said. “Daddy’s here. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

  “Too much!”

  “It’s okay, cowboy,” Charlie said. “Everyone’s just a little sad.”

  “Why sad?”

  “I—we—” She didn’t know what to say.

  Armie went to the sideboard, turned over a fresh tumbler, and filled it with whiskey.

  “Don’t drink any more,” Charlie said.

  Armie downed the whiskey. Josef aimed the computer camera at him. “I think you’d feel better if you just let it out,” he said. “Tell the camera how you feel. We’ll put it on YouTube. I bet it’ll get a lot of hits.”

  Armie turned and hurled the glass at Josef. Josef ducked in time and it sailed over his head and shattered against the mantel, just wide of the Magritte. Josef leapt away, dropping the laptop. Ana stifled a scream. A smear of whiskey dribbled upon the wall. Abbott cupped his hands over his ears.

  “You almost hit the painting, you lunatic!”

  “I don’t care about the painting,” Armie said.

  “I got it all on tape,” Josef said. “Shit. I think it’s broken.”

  Armie rushed forward and they both lunged for the computer at the same time.

  “Stop!” Ana said.

  The brothers grappled. Abbott began to squirm. Josef fell and Armie fell on top of him and they rolled against the couch. Armie disentangled and came up holding the laptop. He slammed it closed. Now Melody was on the stairs.

  “You’re freaking Dustin out!”

  “You’re paying for that!” Josef said. Blood trickled out of his nose, and he wiped at it with the back of his hand. Along with his ever-reddening eye he looked battle-worn.

  “Yeah, right,” Armie said.

  “You’re acting like children,” Melody said. “It’s stupid.”

  “Too loud!” Abbott said. His hands clamped to his ears.

  “When my father died I hugged my sister for a whole day,” Melody said. “That’s all we did. We just held each other and we said, ‘I love you.’ That’s what you do. That’s what you’re supposed to do! Not fight. Not scream and yell at each other.”

  “I didn’t know you had a sister,” Charlie said.

  “I have five sisters.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Back in Russia.”

  “Russia?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re Russian?”

  “Why is that so crazy? My real name is Moroshkin.”

  “My ex-wife’s Russian,” Josef said.

  “I was thirteen and I came to live with my aunt in Idaho. I wanted to be a movie star.”

  “I didn’t know,” Charlie said.

  “I don’t tell people. I was advised not to reveal too much about my background.”

  “When did he die?” Charlie asked.

  “Six years ago. Before Thornglow. Before Dustin.”

  Ana went to the painting. Some of the whiskey had splattered on the canvas. “Will someone get me a rag, please? I need to clean this.”

  “Just leave it, Mom,” Armie said.

  “I need to clean this now.”

  “I’ll get it,” Rey said. He went into the kitchen and came back with a balled-up flower-patterned dish towel that he handed to Ana. She set about gently dabbing the painting.

  “Mom,” Josef said, “you might want to get someone qualified to do that.”

  “Ponies,” Abbott said, pointing at the painting.

  “No, those aren’t ponies,” Rey said. “Can you take him upstairs? I think we should put him back to bed and continue our talk.”

  “I’m not continuing anything. And no, I think we’re good here.”

  Abbott squirmed violently in Charlie’s arms and she set him down. He wandered to the mantel, to the painting, and watched his grandmother struggle with figuring out the best way to blot the whiskey.

  “Careful,” Josef said.

  “Be quiet, please,” Ana said. “You’re making me nervous!”

  “Ohhhh, be careful around the precious painting,” Armie said.

  “You care about it too,” Josef said, “but you think you’re so much better than us that you can’t admit it.”

  “I want to know why you left me that little package,” Rey said.

  Charlie had returned to the couch.

  Abbott swung his head from side to side, watching. “No no no no.”

  “Funny,” Charlie said. “I was going to ask you the same thing!”

  “You just take Abbott and leave without telling me. Without telling anyone. Just vanish—”

  “No no no. No!” Abbott said.

  “I told you where I was going. I wrote it in the note—”

  “Oh, the note. I forgot.”

  “Ponies. Say. No!” Abbott said.

  “It’s okay, buddy, we’re stopping. Come back over here. Sit with Mommy.” She held out her arms.

  Rey kept talking. “And then I had to get here. I had to fly here by myself.”

  “Is Abbott okay?” Ana asked. “His face is turning purple.”

  “Come here, baby,” Charlie said. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine.”

  “What are you, thirteen?” Josef said. “You can’t fly alone? You need a chaperone or something?”

  “I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of this. I just”—Rey put his hands out in a gesture to calm down—“this is between my wife and me.”

  Abbott was grunting. Josef threw up his hands. He retreated to the study, snatching the laptop back from Armie as he went. He sat at George’s desk, picked the ice pack up off the blotter, and returned it to his eye. His nose bled.

  Abbott’s hand snaked down into his My Little Pony underwear.

  “Remember what we say, Abbott? Hands out of your underwear, please.”

  “Armie,” Ana said, “can you take the painting down? I think if we bring it over here in the light, I’ll be able to see it better. There’s just a little more.”

  “I think we should just leave the painting for now,” Josef said. “It’s fine.”

  Eyeing his brother, Armie went to the mantel and took down the frame by its wooden edges. He brought it to the coffee table, where the living room was brightest, and leaned it against the edge, the urn just behind it.

  “Thank you,” Ana said.

  Abbott came forward, withdrawing his hand from his underwear, flashing briefly the wet clump of shit clenched in his fist, which he smeared down the canvas.

  “Ponies!” he yelled.

  - SATURDAY -

  Shadow paced the length of the study. He whined. He padded through the living room, where Josef slept
on the couch with an arm thrown over his face and his mouth open. Rey was on top of a sleeping bag; the coffee table had been moved to accommodate his tall frame. Shadow sniffed about, first at Rey’s butt—which was sort of raised and presented in boxer shorts—then at his face. Rey rolled and swatted the dog away. The room was all purple shadow. Conversation in the Sky presided from the mantel. In the end they had to pry Ana from it and take away the dish rag and force her to bed. The urn was next to the painting. Shadow headed off for the dark and quiet kitchen. He lapped water from his bowl. He stretched and yawned. Back out into the foyer he went, his nails clicking on the hardwood. He ascended the stairs. The door to the library hung ajar and he nudged his head through and regarded Melody for a moment, asleep on the pullout with Dustin in her arms. The door to Josef’s room—where Charlie and Abbott slept—was closed and he bypassed that entirely, proceeding down the hall to Ana and George’s room. He pushed the door open with his nose. George had never allowed him onto the bed, but now there was no one to stop him and he seemed to intuit this. He hopped up and nestled down beside Ana, who at last had drifted off.

  * * *

  Josef woke at eight with a colossal hangover and throbbing urine-related pain in his pelvis. He tripped over Rey while exiting the tangled mass of blanket he’d cocooned within during the night. He peed in the foyer bathroom for (by his count) ninety seconds and brushed his teeth and took four ibuprofen. His back was killing him from the unforgiving wood frame that split the center of the Nanna Ditzel sofa. He checked his phone. Natalie had texted. She and the girls were on the way. The roads were slow going but they would be there soon. He did that thing where you stick out your tongue and examined it in the mirror for signs of, what? He wasn’t sure. He found a box of Band-Aids under the sink and taped his hand. His libido was raging. He needed some kind of release but feared it wasn’t coming anytime soon. There was no way to get anywhere in the house where he’d feel comfortable enough to employ any old-fashioned self-help. He smelled coffee and bacon. In the living room Rey was now awake and rolling up the sleeping bag. He yawned loudly.

  “That was one of the worst sleeps I’ve ever had,” Josef said.

  “Why were we not offered beds?” Rey said.

  “Uh, because we’re men?”