Of Sanity And Sliverware

Just outside the Commons' dining room window, a soupy fog danced. Ghosts were manifesting out of the dense mist. Milk white was the color of the fists that emerged from the vapor ocean and slid along the length of the window's glass. Inside the dining room all the lights were dimmed. Each member of the Common family sat in their traditional seat at the long wooden table. Chris, the head of the household, sat at the far end of the table. His wife, Jane, sat in the middle and next to her their daughter, Jen. Across from them sat Harvey, the youngest of the Common family. On the other end,opposite of Chris, sat the eldest son Don. All of them were feasting on their meal of chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, and boiled carrots in complete silence. Don was annoyed. He would glance up every so often and gaze disgustedly at the rest of his family, shaking his head. On occasions he would let out over exaggerated sighs. Finally, he took both his fork and knife and dropped them onto his plate.

"Tick tick tick! Clank clank clunk!" Don yelled. "That's all that is to be heard at the Common's table. I can't comprehend your Morse Code. I am taken to the very cliff of my sanity from this awful stillness. Do none of you have a word to speak? Have you got your tongues hacked out of your mouth? Cat got your tongue? How about you, beloved family, tell me of your former self or of the present day you. Say something about the future of the war we're in or or the horrible state of our economy and how it will effect our generation's life. Talk about what challenges you have taken on at work or what you have studied in school. Say something before I am driven mad by by mere dining utensils!"

The rest of the family was unmoved by all his talk about sanity. After a brief pause, the family began eating in the same quiet fashion as before.

"Oh wow," Harvey exclaimed, "It's pretty foggy outside."

Chris looked out the window, then back to Harvey, "It is, isn't it."

"Ah the fog!" cried Don, "Oh dense haze, swaying, whirling vapor. We might as well open up the window and let the fog pour in. For even though we sit so close to each other, I can barley make any of your significant features. We, forced to live in the same household, know nothing of one another. Please, say something of value, of worth." Underneath the table, Don notices his sister Jen texting on her phone. "And oh, this one. Her face, hidden, behind a tall mirror." Don brushes his hand against her face

Jen spent most of her time on her "Me." A "Me" is a website where you can create your own profile and gather friends. You play games, send messages, send instant messages, invite people to events, poke people, tell people how your feeling, let everyone know about you, bug strangers. Jen would bask in joy with her gallery of friend. Out of the 571 friends that Jen acquired she actually spoke to 47 of them.

His family was yet again unmoved by his speech. Tonight would be another silent dinner.

Bang Bang Bang! Bang Bang Bang Bang! Bang Bang Bang!

Chris dropped the napkin that he had just wiped his face with and walked over to the door. He opened the door to reveal a chubby man in a nice black suit. On the left corner of his jacket he had the same emblem Chris had on his; a golden triangle with an eye in the center. Most of the outsider's hair was missing and what was left made a half circle around his head. In his left arm a manila folder was strapped to his chest by his hand. Our shaking guest seemed frantic about something or another. Chris and the stranger exchanged a few whispers. The rest of the Commons watched in wonder. Chris then ushered the gentleman into an empty room, where they could discuss things in private.

"Good idea," chuckled Don, "There father goes conspiring with some old pals. What a lovely dinner we're having."

"Stop that this instant," Jane said harshly.

A moment or so later Chris and his nervous companion emerged from the seclusion of the room. They both strolled over to the door and started putting on their coats and shoes. "I'll be back later honey," Chris said. The mysterious party crasher began to head out the door. Chris popped the collar of his coat up which cast a dark shadow over his face.

"Goodbye dad-e-o!" Don cried happily, "Have fun silencing conspirators, corrupting the innocent, planning doomsday or whatever silly things your about to do."

"Don!" Jane shouted.

Chris and the akward knocker went out into the night, with their hands stuffed in their pockets.

* * *

"Hey dad," Harvey whispered, "Can I come to church today."

Chris only glanced. He opened his mouth. No words came. Chris turned away from his son. The rest of the Common's were in the car ready to head off to church. All dressed in black formal wear they waited for the driver. Chris put on his coat and walked out the door. At the dining room window, stood Harvey. He watched the car back out of the driveway. Then down the road. Then a left on Opress St.

* * *

At church waves of people poured in. They swarmed through the entrance and then went swiftly into their seats. The Common's found their seat next to the Brown family.

"Why hello Mrs. Brown," Jane said, "How have you been?"

"I've been great Jane, how about yourself?"

"I've been just swell. Do you have any idea what today's sermon is about?"

"Yes. Judes speaking about acceptance."

"Oh really. That sounds nice." Jane waited for the right moment. "Did you hear about what happened with Darlene's daughter?"

"You mean about her and those two boys?"

"No no. But I haven't heard that story, you'll have to fill me in. But anyways, Mrs. Thomson was about to go to bed so she decided to go into Crystal's room to say goodnight. She opens up the door and notices that no one was in her bed but sheets and pillows."

"Oh my."

"So then she stays up all night, pacing around the house, worrying about Crystal, but then she hears something coming from in her room. She busts open the door and there's Crystal laying in a pile of her own puke, crying her eyes out, smelling like alcohol."

Mrs. Brown reached in her purse for her phone. "Oh my lord."

"And I heard from Sharla, that she reeked like marijuana too."

"Drugs? That girls going down the wrong path. She's gonna end up dead one of these days."

All arise

* * *

Harvey stared out the dining room window. There was no movement. For awhile now it seemed like he was looking at a photograph until a loud Semi truck flying by brought him back to reality. Harvey hated Sundays. He hated waking up, he hated the shower he took, he hated asking the same dreadful question, and he especially hated watching his family drive away.

"There were better days," he said to himself. He closed his eyes.

April 20, 2009. Harvey's smiled while he blew out the seventeen fated candles.

"Yay!" cried all his family and friends.

Everyone gave him presents, laughed with him. All of it a blur. 10:32pm. Outside. The night is warm. The mosquitoes hummed quietly under the street lights. A soft breeze flew by every so often, gently. The moon was full. Harvey sat on the front porch of his house rotating the new phone he just received from his parents. The door opened behind him. His father put his arm on his shoulder. Sat down next to him. 'Happy birthday son. Your a man now.' Chris smiles. "How do you like your new phone."

"Oh, love it."

"Good son, I'm glad. So what did you wish for."

Harvey looked up at the stars. "Well, I wished for something strange you might think. I wished that you and mom and the rest of the family would accept me for who I am."

"What are you talking about? Your our first son. We love you. We've always accepted you."

"Yeah I know." Pause. He shifted his body. "But I've been keeping something from you. Maybe because I was scared or cause I wasn't sure. But. I'm gay dad."

Harvey shut his eyes tightly to erase the memory. Get rid of the image. Shut off the sound.

When the Common's got home, they were too late. Harvey was still at the window, eyes still, body swaying, and he would always be there to watch them turn their backs to him time and time again.

* * *

"A vein, a vein, come on where's a fucking vein," Don complained to himself. "It's not like you can run out of veins? Can you? Jesus Christ!"

If you asked Don to tell you something he had learned so far from life, he would say: "Everyone has an addiction." His happened to be heroine. He had been a user for quite some time but since his brother's untimely death he used much more often. The blood vessels in his arms, legs, chest, and any other see able place have been dug into by a needle. He had little blue blackish dots all over his body and some looked on the brink of infection. Don thought he heard something. No. Nothing. He remembered: his mother was shopping, his father at work, and his sister was on her "Me."

"Ah! There you are you sly devil." Don found an entrance.

What Don didn't know was that his father was in fact pulling into the driveway and had something to talk to Don about. He never heard the car pull in. He never heard the door open, close. He never heard the door handle turn. But what Don did in fact hear was his father yell, "What in God's name do you're think your doing."

"Feeding my addiction! You swine. You didn't even knock. Plus your addiction is power. Far worse."

Chris took all his syringes and drugs and disposed of them. With that, Don's home became his prison.

Later that night Don's girlfriend stopped in. After a short stay she got a text message and insisted she must leave.

"Oh come on baby, stay just a few more minutes," Don pleaded. " I mean I'm bored out of my skull here. Its like a fucking prison. And I got no smack."

"I'm sorry Don. I can't stay my parents need me to babysit my brothers. But I love you and I'll come visit you tomarrow."

"Alright, alright. I love you too. I might as well get some sleep anyways. It's been rather rough lately."

Don leans forward and kisses his girl goodnight. As she climbs out the window and gently walks through his back yard Don watches like a hawk.

"Oh not tonight my darling, not tonight."

Don was quick on her, he dove out the window and like a snake he slithered across his yard quickly and without a noise. Once he got through his gate he already had his moped parked and ready to go. Don slowly pulled out of his driveway watching his lover slowly roll down the street. His engine softly hummed as he gained speed and stalked behind just enough to see her taillights. It didn't take long for Don to notice that they weren't heading to her house.

"That bitch. I have caught you."

Right when Don started to lose track of where he was a motel came into sight. The deceiver pulled in.

"Oh this is when it gets messy."

He put his hand against his pistol. He stroked the steel and teased the trigger. Headlights off. Brake, brake, slow now, steady. Cut engine. He sat on his moped long enough to smoke a cigarette. The whole time his eyes were set on the target room. Don looked around to see if anyone was watching and approached the room she was parked in front of. Over his face he slid a black mask with holes for his eyes and mouth. Don then withdrew the pistol. He pushed the door open with ease and flicked on the lights. Before anything the gun was pointed at the bed. But in mere seconds both the cheater and her companion hit the floor in shock. The betrayer was naked and grabbed at the blankets to cover her. It was too late. Don took a few more steps in the room to see who the man was. On the opposite side of the bed sat a scared old man clutching the sheets over his head.

"Don't shoot me! Oh, please! I'm a wealthy man."

"Let me see your face."

Chris lay on the floor naked and before he could find his wallet the masked man ran out.

* * *

For the next few days Don didn't talk much. He sat at the table ignoring the ticking and clanking of the silverware. He sat in his room quietly and never disobeyed the grounding rules. Don would sit for hours gazing at the metal death machine. Pointing it at the door. "Boom boom." Don always disliked his father but since he blamed his brothers death on him and now this, the rage was unbearable. Something must be done. It was Sunday night. Don was a little bit drunk. "Tonight is the night," he whispered to himself. He slowly stumbled through his house. Once he reached his parents room he just stood there. Gun in one hand. Cup of whiskey in the over. The cup fell to the floor. He turned the handle as quietly as he could and pushed the door open with his pinky. Both his mother and father were dead asleep. His heart was frantic. Don took careful and light steps all the way up to his fathers side. The covers were over his head so he lifted them and slowly pulled-

Click.

"What do you think you're doing?" a strange voice said from behind.

A steel circle pressed against the back of his skull.

"How did you know? I told no one?"

"I know all Don. I watch you. I watch everyone. I know what you do, what you say, what you think. I'll always be one step ahead."

These painful and demoralizing words struck him so deep that Don began to weep.

"Oh kill me then. I knew it would turn out like this. The rebel never will get his chance never. We'll always lose to people like you. Well go ahead then and I'll let God do his justice."

My mother began to stir. She opened up her eyes. "Whats going on?"

"Go back to sleep," Chris commanded.

"So that's it then," Don said as he began to turn his head to get one last look at his father. "No one can stop the en-"