nin137

Nick's Journal
2002-08-03 16:55:43 (UTC)

story 3

last part of the stupid "story"
i swear ulli is insane. her house might as wel be the
local zoo. she has 5 parakeets, 8 rabbits, 1 guinea pig,
2 hourses, 4 sheep, 5 chickens, 2 dogs, and 4 cats. i
personally, don’t mind as animals know to shut the hell
up, and don’t drum their fingers on the steering wheel, or
ask you if you still like them if you don’t talk to them.
all was well. i sat on the sunny porch feeling like
taryan himself as the mutlifarious mammals hung out around
me. feeling nice and seren out there i started to ponder
all the sad and cruel things that happened in the world
(unfortunately i heard the news on the way over), and it
just depressed me and made me miss juliann so much. i got
mad at myself for being so worrisome and quickly promised
myself that i would not look at the news anymore as long
as i was here. theere really is no need to take the burden
of the world on one’s shoulders especially if you’re just
trying to relax. so as i was saying , there i am just
sitting and enjoying the animal kingdom reading my book
and sipping a beer, when the walking trauma case came
towards me.
meet michael: the cousin that no one likes.
damn, i forgot that he lives here. damn. how do i
describe michael? well, let’s go physical first. red
hair, very slim, some may say scrawny, and i hate to say
it so blantly. really fucking ugly. he’s 15 and
basically is the poster child of masturbation. i would
estimate he jerks it more than 20 times a day. he just
has that look about him. very greasy skin and buck
teeth. physically, the cousin everyone stays away from.
personality wise is where the mystery lies. first of all
his parents has just divorced so he was wallowing in the
pity afforded him. even before they sepereated his home
was probably responsible for his weirdness. anyhow.
michael is very annoying in his demanor because you can’t
outright, not like him. he’s very nice, but in a werid
way. he doesn’t talk much, which is more than fine by me,
but he has these looks in his eyes taht say way too much
over his deafening quietness. his eyes seem to scream,
just talk to me. just talk to me, because no one else
will. i think there are two types of quiet people. self-
imposed, and societal-imposed, and i believe michael falls
into the latter. so here we have a very quiet, ugly,
nice, and extremely obsequious baggage of emotions
shuffling towards me. his last characteristic is the
worst. he’s so damn obsequious that you can’t tell him to
just go away. he’s like a cute little puppy that shits
all over your carpet. all you really want to do is make a
can of alpo with the mutt, but as it looks at you with
it’s big puppy eyes, you just say,
‚awwwwwww, ok, i’ll keep you.‘
so, there he is standing in front of me, his shadow
blocking the nice warm sun that had been bathing me. he
drives me crazy by standing infront of me but not saying
hello or so,i mean if one of us will be disfunctional he
may as well have the courtesy to let it be me. i try my
best to stay quiet, but it’s so excuciating i can’t help
but look up at him and smile, choking out the words,
‚hello michael, haven’t seen you in a while.‘
then he begins wit his trademark, ‚you’re so much better
than me, how do i even respond to one of your statements?‘
smile. argh!
‚fine, how are you?‘
this kid is amazing. i’ve maybe spoken with him for a
minute and i feel the urge to give him money and take all
his woes unto me. somehow, i’m responsible. oh why
doesn’t anyone like michael? why? at that moment the
thought of really, why didn’t ulli take him with? all the
cousins his age were with them. all 6 of them. ranging
from 12 –15 with my brother, my cousin, an dmichael all
being 15. that just made me feel even more sorry for him.
i could just see them avoiding michael as they left on
their vacation, it also made me mad, because of the
exclusion, but more so because it left me with this
satan’s spawn.
‚why don’t you two play some ping-pong?‘ my aunt calls
from a safe distance from the yard.
why don’t you play some ping-pong, i seeth quietly, but
then quickly smile up at michael hoping that he sees just
how preposterous this proposition was but instead the
little worm exclamed,
‚yeah, that would be great!‘
now, michael has a voice that is right in the middle of
puberty which makes me raise the number of times he
masturbates a day to about 40. i swear he smokes pot, his
voice is so fucked. i start to wish that he would just
shut up again. and why the hell is he so enthusiastic?
that’s what really bothered me about him, how fucking
happy he would get, in little sporadic patterns. creepy,
creepy.
‚ok, let’s play one.‘
i said one, i heard myself say one. he apparently did
not. after three excruciating games which i lost, i did
my best to alleviate myself of the responsiblity of ping-
pong, but the little bastard kept on circling the table
after each match, proding me into another game. 21 pts.
for michael, trot to other side, new game. by the fourth
game i tried as casually as possible to say,
‚after this one i think i’ll read a bit‘
he looked at me with a look of ‚ok, because you’re the one
coping with seperated parents and being hated by all other
relatives, sure, you say when we stop playing, no go
ahead, go on.‘ but his mouth said,
‚one more?‘
didn’t i jsut say i’d play this one?
‚yeah, sure.‘
my feelings of sadness for his ostracization from the rest
of the relatives had long since weened. in place was a
sort of antipathy of being caught in his foolish game of
affection smothering. finally the game ended in another
loss for me, and i quickly (averting my eyes from his) put
my paddle down and went back to the bench. i thought i
was safe, i thought i could continue my reading, but no.
then i didn’t know whether to feel extremely pissed off at
him or eternally sorry for his situation. he started
kicking a soccerball around to himself, and i have to
admit he was pretty good, but then i just imagined him
doing only that all alone in his yard, and once in a while
hiding behind a tree to masturbate. it sucks being a
kid. it must really hurt him right now that my brother
and all other cousins his age are having fun together in
bulgaria while he is left here. now that really pissed me
off. why are my aunt and uncles so immature? first
cornering lisi into taking care of the house and then
markedly excluding a child? i know ulli, i’ve heard her
talk about michael. she thinks he’s too weird and a bad
influence on her kids. retards. i swear. the cool
brisk wind of the austrian dusk came and turned my book
pages as i listened to the occasional bounce of the
soccerball, calling out like please of recognition.

well dinner should be sweet. andi decided that since she
doesn’t have a job, a husband/boyfriend, no kids, and
absolutley no fucking obligations she’ll be able to come
up and spend ONE night with us. how magnanimous of her.
she’ll be here for dinner and i’ll get to hear hwo she
worships my brother, ech, it gives me a chill everytime i
think of it. also gerhard will be joining us, and i
wonder if i should rip out my uncle’s steering wheel so
that he’ll have something to drum on when the conversation
dies down.
i stand in the kitchen and help my aunt with the
preparations for dinner. michael is still blundering
around, not really helping but not really being in the way
either (surprise, surprise). lisi, with her kind heart
engages him in conversation that always seems to hit the
roadblock of his ineptness at social interaction. pretty
soon she and i are talking about globalization and michael
starts kicking the ball around ini the kitchen. all of a
sudden we hear a shrill scream which is completly
ineffable. micahel, however, stps dead in his tracks and
almost turns completely white. then coming crashing
through door, as if it were a big hassle to normally open
it, comes his mother. a very thin, high strung woman that
obviously fell out of some high edifice during the
eighties. her hair is in a crafty disarray, and colored
in all kinds of incongruent colors. big horn-rimmed
glasses slide all around her heavily make up caked face,
and her eyes are almost weighted shut with the eye
shadow. she screams his name again and then starts
berating him in a very hateful tone that only sounds more
hateful as it’s shouted in a german dialect.
‚you were supposed to be home by 5‘ (it was now 6:30)
‚i didn’t know,‘ michael stammers, which was obviously a
lie.
‚now your father’s going to get pissed at ME because i’m
bringing you late!‘
i don’t understand it. or maybe i can profess to
understand it. shouldn’t parents love their children?
during this divorce lisi told me the worst aspect was that
neither wanted Michael for Michael. they wanted him for
the societal benefits, and they wanted him for thepower it
gave them over each other. one could always tell the
other ‚have him to me by this hour or that‘ but not
because,
‚have him to me because i want to show him i love him‘
i know it sounds sappy, but it’s not. i felt so bad for
michael, as i could tell that no matter how little his
parents wanted to do with him, he wanted even less to do
with them. they left, with her not even aknowledging us,
as we were HER HUSBANDS side of the family, and she
despised us even more than him. after that we couldn’t
help but be silent for a while pondering our seperate
thoughts.
the silence was broken by the shrill laughter of andi,
whose arrival neatly coincided with gerhard’s. the two
were already jawing it on the way in, and within a minute
of their arrival we were all drinking wine. that’s
thegood thing about austrians. they KNOW they’re gonna
get plastered before the night is over, and they atleast
start early. americans always try to show an artifical
reserve, for alcohol, yet ironically get liquored up a lot
more vehemently.