A World Without String Is Chaos - Chapter 39

Fred’s Mom was feeling the pain of old age. Aching joints and dimming eyesight.

She had accepted her aging a long time ago. She remembered how she panicked at the sight of her first wrinkle. Or two. She remembers now how Fred’s father hugged her, telling her she was, is, the most beautiful woman in the world. He did some husband-like things for her, too. Like, that one time.

She remembered how he cried when Fred was born. He cradled the baby like a precious, fragile bundle of joy. They talked when she was pregnant about all the things he, or she, could become. He joked the boy would probably be a neurosurgeon, and she joked back that he’ll be the President. But once Fred was actually a reality, they were just happy that he existed.

Fred was such a happy child. They made sure of that. But, around fourth grade, that asshole kid down the street started bullying Fred. Fred’s Mom tried talking with the teacher, the asshole kid’s asshole mother, and tried her best to comfort Fred. Fred’s father decided on the hands-off approach.

“Kids will be kids,” he said. “Fred needs to learn to fight back.”

But Fred never did.

Fred managed to stop asking for parental and teacher intervention. But he never managed to fight back. The boy endured, and he became more withdrawn. Quieter.

Then, that same asshole kid started selling drugs to Fred during high school. She remembered how Fred’s father beat the ever loving crap out of Fred when they found out, but it didn’t stop Fred. Fred’s Mom felt like a failed mom. But she couldn’t think of anything else to do by that point but to nag. She remembered how after Fred’s father beat up Fred- Fred just let himself be hit. That night, Fred’s father sobbed.

If things couldn’t get any worse, Fred started acting strange. He began talking to himself. He laughed in the middle of the night. He spent the weekends gone out who knows where. She remembered screaming at him, “Where the fuck did you go???”

Fred just smiled the saddest frown.

Then, one Wednesday, Fred broke the TV. Fred’s Mom felt scared. Scared of her own son. And then, out of nowhere, Fred whispered to her, “DO yoU WAnt mE to KILL YOU MOM”

She ran out of the apartment. She called the police. An ambulance came. Fred was admitted to the hospital. The loony bin.

Schizophrenia.
for visiting.

Fred’s Mom blamed herself. And then, she tried to stop caring. But she couldn’t.

And then, Fred somehow calmed down. Medicated. Fred’s father commanded Fred to apply to the local community college, and Fred obeyed. When he was accepted, Fred’s Mom felt…

Nothing.

Fred was a zombie now. And the home was awfully silent.

Graduation came, and Fred didn’t get the tickets to the ceremony. He forgot, he told them.

Fred’s Mom did mind. But there were no words.

One day, on a Wednesday, she felt some awful premonition. She decided to leave work early, and to her relief, she saw Fred knocked out asleep. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she lost her son.

Forever.

It didn’t help that she couldn’t find her knife. The type that you peel apples with. She worried. Did Fred take it? He mumbled about something like, maybe she lost it? What if he did something? She worried.

Fred got a job at a deli. Fred’s Mom was…disappointed. Fred’s father, on the other hand, told her that things will finally, finally turn around. For them. For Fred. For us.

Fred seemed happier. He smiled more. He even talked about his job with her, and she listened. Fred even started earning an income, and Fred seemed eager to give her his first paycheck. And the second. And third. He didn’t quit the job. He went to work each morning.

Fred’s Mom…smiled.

Then Fred won a vacation to island paradise. Fred’s Mom worried.

Then Fred got a job in advertising. Fred’s Mom was so proud. Fred’s Mom worried.

Then Fred broke the news, that she was a grandmother, all along.

What the fuck?!

Mark was a handsome grandson, but she felt so distant from him. Fred’s Mom had one more person to worry about.

Fred’s father passed. She

She

She

What a life she had lived. And Fred’s father, too.

It is a Wednesday. Fred told her he’s going to go on a trip.

She worries. She is in the family apartment. Fred had asked if she would like to move to a fancier place.

Despite it all, the apartment was their home. She had shook her head. “No.”

She is sitting where Fred’s father used to sit, by the window. She stares at the sky, and she remembers.

“I miss you.”