Numbness

Cadillac 62 series. They were on a plain empty highway, alone. It was almost midnight. His father was driving while listening to Little Richard at full volume, to-and-fro motions ruled his head and hands while he mimicked the dance of the aforementioned singer. 1957 had been such a great year.

Tutti Frutti, Oh Rudy

—Don’t you enjoy this music, son? You’ve been quiet since we got into the car— He turned back on his seat to face his son. He was immersed in a book, “Steppenwolf”, which could be read on the hardcover. He didn’t blink, he didn’t look away. While moving on to the next page he didn’t even stop thinking about what he had just read. He closed the book a little after memorizing the page he was on, drying out the happiness from his body and hiding it on the next page, and loo- stared at his dad with dread eyes. He stared.

—I’ve been trying to read— Slowly answered. He lifted his hand and rested on the car door, sighing while facing the fact that his reading nighttime had been ruined that night.

—Come on, sing at least! Tutti Frutti…

No. How could he ask him to smile, let alone sing, after everything he had done? He blushed and with his hand tried to stop furtive teardrops from falling. He failed, but he didn’t make a noise, his father hated when he blushed and cried. He looked to the side of the road. Everything was silent, he imagined. He was alone, alone with the only person he could be alone with. He was by his side, wiping out his tears and hugging him. “I love you. Nothing will ever pull us apart”. He felt the warmth of the hug, not the cold night winds. He closed his eyes and hung to the memories of being loved, being kissed, being touched…

—Can’t believe we’re halfway through already. Don’t worry, this will be the best for us all

—Who’s us?

—Your mother and I

—You killed my mother, Dad.

Silence.

Tears fell faster with this new snap back to reality. He closed his eyes again but couldn’t remember him anymore. He just felt pain, a burning pain inside that grew only bigger. It was bitter, it tasted like the coffee he had taken with his mother that morning, or the coffee he had shared with his partner hours before. He wanted them back. That was the only thing he wanted.

—I would give everything… Lord, please- he whispered into tears, hoping his crescent sadness to be unnoticed by his father.

—Look, we’re almost there- Said his father at the time the lights of a truck could be seen a few miles ahead.

He pronounced his name, then his mother’s name.

—I love you

Again he closed his eyes, he went back to his first kiss. His awkward hands pulled him from his neck, while he grabbed his hips and lifted him. His mother also lifted him like that. They were both dead by now. They were dead, and he was guilty of it. What face could he make now? What should he think when everything he ever wanted, everything he ever loved, in other words, his reason to live, disappeared? Their memories faded away in his mind. The only thing he now feared was forgetting those secret kisses, those hugs, those coffees, those magical sex meetings, for God’s sake. Until now he had chosen to feel nothing, but the pain inside was overwhelming.

Numbness.

Numbness.

Numbness.

—Fuck— He whispered, while his dad struck the Cadillac against the truck. A Cadillac 62 series.