psychoblast
Bluelighter
My Father's House.
Our father wore many hats. Healer, gardener, priest, sheriff. There were not many people around where Evelyn and I grew up. I recall one day our father was teaching us about the medicines on the shelf in his office. He told us which were good to treat a stomach ache, or to clean a cut, or to stop itching. But there was one red jar that I remember most clearly.
"I want you to promise me you will never take any pills from the red jar. They are poison. Do you understand? If you eat one of those pills, you will die. Promise on your love for me that you won't take any pills from the red jar." And we promised.
Now, unknown to our father, Evelyn had struck up a friendship with Lucy, an older, street-wise girl who lived...well, I think she lived on the streets. Her father had kicked her out and so she got by as best she could. Evelyn felt sorry for her, but also impressed by her attitude and her maturity. She seemed to know about so many things. Things our father didn't talk to us about.
One day, Evelyn and Lucy were talking when Evelyn mentioned the poison pills in the red jar. Lucy asked Evelyn to describe the jar and, after she did, Lucy started laughing.
"I know that jar," said Evelyn when she'd stopped laughing, "and those pills aren't poison. They're just a kind of drug your father doesn't want you to try."
"Well, if they aren't poison, what do they do?" asked Lucy.
"They expand your mind," explained Evelyn, "they make you see things differently. Sometimes people get scared after taking them, sometimes they see wondrous things. I tell you one thing, you'd never look at the world the same if you took one of those pills."
Evelyn shook her head. "Why would I want that?"
Lucy laughed again. "Why do you talk to me? You don't really want to go through life as a naive little girl, do you? Just playing with dolls and doing what Daddy tells you to do?"
"I don't know..." said Evelyn. "I find it hard to believe Father would lie to me. He loves me! He is so good and honorable."
"It's up to you," said Lucy. "But just think about this: Why would your father keep a jar of poison with his medicines? What sense does that make?"
Later, Evelyn came to me and told me about her conversation with Lucy. And it troubled me. I hated the thought of my father lying to me. I didn't want to believe it was possible. I guess that, more than anything, led me to the red jar. I didn't want to doubt my father, I wanted to know for sure what was in the red jar. And Evelyn agreed. We would put our lives on the line, to see whether our Father or Lucy was being honest with us.
So one morning when our Father was out, we went into his office, which was never locked, and each took a pill from the red jar. We looked at each other... For a moment, I wasn't sure we'd go through with it. Then we both popped our pills into our mouths. I fought a momentary urge to spit it out, and made myself swallow. Evelyn had also swallowed hers.
We went, then, into the garden and walked around. At first, we felt the same. But then things started changing. The trees looked different. Evelyn looked different. I was looking at the same world, but in a different way. I felt like my prior life was a dream, that I'd been asleep and so ignorant. Now I felt like my mind was piercing through the layers of fog that had enshrouded it for so long. Yes, Lucy was right. My mind was expanded. My eyes were open as they never had been. I had a whole new perspective on life.
And Evelyn and I realized that Lucy was right, and our father had lied to us. The pills were not poison. We were not dying. And we felt our time of naive childhood ending.
When our Father returned, we tried to act normal. We tried to play the role of his naive and trusting children. But we had no experience at pretending, at lying. And Father quickly saw through it, and realized what had happened.
"You took the pills in the red jar, didn't you?!" He roared. "You broke your promise to me, the promise you made on your love for me!"
"But Father, " Evelyn started, "You lied to us! You said the pills were poison. When Lucy told us--"
"Lucy?" Our father interrupted, "You've been speaking to that no-good, ungrateful bitch? I told her when I kicked her out years ago never to come back. I'll see to her for this."
And I realized, from my father's words, that he had been the one who kicked Lucy out, who made her homeless. And I think I knew at that moment what was in story for Evelyn and me.
"You have been corrupted by Lucy," said our father, "so you can go join her. Leave this house, this garden, and try to survive on the streets. You'll be cold and hungry and suffer. I hope you think it was worth it."
And, at that moment, I begged to stay, begged for forgiveness. But he was adamant. He had his servants come and drag us both, his children, and throw us off the property with just the clothes on our backs.
We survived. It was difficult, that's for sure. But we stayed together, Evelyn and I. And, years later, I recall walking by some flowers that were blooming in the stark desert where we were living at the time, and I realized I still could appreciate their beauty in a way that I never could have without that pill. My eyes were still open. And I turned to Evelyn and said, "You know, Eve, I'm glad we took those pills."
And she replied, "Me, too, Adam. Me, too."
And yet I am left with some questions I would like answered, but I fear never will be. Why did my father lie to us about what was in the red jar? And why did my father apparently want Eve and I to live our whole lives in a state of naive childhood? And, perhaps most of all, did my father ever take a pill from the red jar? If not, why did he even have them in the first place? If so, why did he condemn me and Eve for doing what he did?
Well, perhaps he thinks he made a mistake. Perhaps he wishes he never took one of those pills, never opened his eyes. Perhaps he regrets the loss of his own naive childhood and hoped to recapture it vicariously through his children. And perhaps he is angry we followed his footsteps closer than he had wanted us to.
And my last words are for Lucy, for it turns out she had told us the truth about the pills in the red jar. And, yet, my father blamed her for Eve and I taking the forbidden pills, and he used his influence to make her a criminal, and she has been forced to live her life despised and hidden, moving in darkness and staying low to the ground. I feel bad for that. For a world where people are willing to view honesty as a crime, as a sin, as evil.
I dedicate this story to Lucy.
~psychoblast~
Our father wore many hats. Healer, gardener, priest, sheriff. There were not many people around where Evelyn and I grew up. I recall one day our father was teaching us about the medicines on the shelf in his office. He told us which were good to treat a stomach ache, or to clean a cut, or to stop itching. But there was one red jar that I remember most clearly.
"I want you to promise me you will never take any pills from the red jar. They are poison. Do you understand? If you eat one of those pills, you will die. Promise on your love for me that you won't take any pills from the red jar." And we promised.
Now, unknown to our father, Evelyn had struck up a friendship with Lucy, an older, street-wise girl who lived...well, I think she lived on the streets. Her father had kicked her out and so she got by as best she could. Evelyn felt sorry for her, but also impressed by her attitude and her maturity. She seemed to know about so many things. Things our father didn't talk to us about.
One day, Evelyn and Lucy were talking when Evelyn mentioned the poison pills in the red jar. Lucy asked Evelyn to describe the jar and, after she did, Lucy started laughing.
"I know that jar," said Evelyn when she'd stopped laughing, "and those pills aren't poison. They're just a kind of drug your father doesn't want you to try."
"Well, if they aren't poison, what do they do?" asked Lucy.
"They expand your mind," explained Evelyn, "they make you see things differently. Sometimes people get scared after taking them, sometimes they see wondrous things. I tell you one thing, you'd never look at the world the same if you took one of those pills."
Evelyn shook her head. "Why would I want that?"
Lucy laughed again. "Why do you talk to me? You don't really want to go through life as a naive little girl, do you? Just playing with dolls and doing what Daddy tells you to do?"
"I don't know..." said Evelyn. "I find it hard to believe Father would lie to me. He loves me! He is so good and honorable."
"It's up to you," said Lucy. "But just think about this: Why would your father keep a jar of poison with his medicines? What sense does that make?"
Later, Evelyn came to me and told me about her conversation with Lucy. And it troubled me. I hated the thought of my father lying to me. I didn't want to believe it was possible. I guess that, more than anything, led me to the red jar. I didn't want to doubt my father, I wanted to know for sure what was in the red jar. And Evelyn agreed. We would put our lives on the line, to see whether our Father or Lucy was being honest with us.
So one morning when our Father was out, we went into his office, which was never locked, and each took a pill from the red jar. We looked at each other... For a moment, I wasn't sure we'd go through with it. Then we both popped our pills into our mouths. I fought a momentary urge to spit it out, and made myself swallow. Evelyn had also swallowed hers.
We went, then, into the garden and walked around. At first, we felt the same. But then things started changing. The trees looked different. Evelyn looked different. I was looking at the same world, but in a different way. I felt like my prior life was a dream, that I'd been asleep and so ignorant. Now I felt like my mind was piercing through the layers of fog that had enshrouded it for so long. Yes, Lucy was right. My mind was expanded. My eyes were open as they never had been. I had a whole new perspective on life.
And Evelyn and I realized that Lucy was right, and our father had lied to us. The pills were not poison. We were not dying. And we felt our time of naive childhood ending.
When our Father returned, we tried to act normal. We tried to play the role of his naive and trusting children. But we had no experience at pretending, at lying. And Father quickly saw through it, and realized what had happened.
"You took the pills in the red jar, didn't you?!" He roared. "You broke your promise to me, the promise you made on your love for me!"
"But Father, " Evelyn started, "You lied to us! You said the pills were poison. When Lucy told us--"
"Lucy?" Our father interrupted, "You've been speaking to that no-good, ungrateful bitch? I told her when I kicked her out years ago never to come back. I'll see to her for this."
And I realized, from my father's words, that he had been the one who kicked Lucy out, who made her homeless. And I think I knew at that moment what was in story for Evelyn and me.
"You have been corrupted by Lucy," said our father, "so you can go join her. Leave this house, this garden, and try to survive on the streets. You'll be cold and hungry and suffer. I hope you think it was worth it."
And, at that moment, I begged to stay, begged for forgiveness. But he was adamant. He had his servants come and drag us both, his children, and throw us off the property with just the clothes on our backs.
We survived. It was difficult, that's for sure. But we stayed together, Evelyn and I. And, years later, I recall walking by some flowers that were blooming in the stark desert where we were living at the time, and I realized I still could appreciate their beauty in a way that I never could have without that pill. My eyes were still open. And I turned to Evelyn and said, "You know, Eve, I'm glad we took those pills."
And she replied, "Me, too, Adam. Me, too."
And yet I am left with some questions I would like answered, but I fear never will be. Why did my father lie to us about what was in the red jar? And why did my father apparently want Eve and I to live our whole lives in a state of naive childhood? And, perhaps most of all, did my father ever take a pill from the red jar? If not, why did he even have them in the first place? If so, why did he condemn me and Eve for doing what he did?
Well, perhaps he thinks he made a mistake. Perhaps he wishes he never took one of those pills, never opened his eyes. Perhaps he regrets the loss of his own naive childhood and hoped to recapture it vicariously through his children. And perhaps he is angry we followed his footsteps closer than he had wanted us to.
And my last words are for Lucy, for it turns out she had told us the truth about the pills in the red jar. And, yet, my father blamed her for Eve and I taking the forbidden pills, and he used his influence to make her a criminal, and she has been forced to live her life despised and hidden, moving in darkness and staying low to the ground. I feel bad for that. For a world where people are willing to view honesty as a crime, as a sin, as evil.
I dedicate this story to Lucy.
~psychoblast~
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