Chapter VII: Richie, the Scatterbrain

“I slip among classifications like water in cupped palms, leaving bits of myself behind. I am quick and deft, for there is no greater fear than the fear of being caught wanting to belong. I am a chameleon. And the best chameleon has no center, no truer sense of self than what he or she is in the instant.”
Andrew X. Pham, “Catfish and Mandala”

“For fuck’s sake, don’t you understand anything?”
Birger storms out, because what else is there to say.
The boy slowly sits down on the edge of the sofa. He is apparently a scatterbrain.
He does not cry. At least not on the outside.

Vilhelmina looks long after the now-rushed-out, as easily agitated as exuberant, son-in-law.
“Dearest, dearest mine… Richard, my sweetheart. What will become of you?”
She is a tough lady, his grandmother.
She does not cry. At least not on the outside.

When Birger returns, embraces the boy and apologetically says, “Now let’s forget about this.”
Then, he cries – the Scatterbrain.
In that moment, Vilhelmina does not avert her gaze, and Birger feels ashamed. No melodies in the world can save him now.

©SlowClapStories

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Evigt ägs blott det du mist

Kapitel VII: Richie, Slarvern

“I slip among classifications like water in cupped palms, leaving bits of myself behind. I am quick and deft, for there is no greater fear than the fear of being caught wanting to belong. I am a chameleon. And the best chameleon has no center, no truer sense of self than what he or she is in the instant.”
Andrew X. Pham, “Catfish and Mandala”

– För helvete, fattar du ingenting?
Birger stormar ut, för vad finns mer att säga.
Pojken sätter sig sakta ner på soffkanten. Han är tydligen en slarver.
Han gråter inte. Åtminstone inte utanpå.

Vilhelmina ser långt efter den nu utrusade, lika lätt uppbrusande som översvallande, svärsonen.
– Gubben, gubben, Richard lille. Hur ska det bli med dig?
Hon är en tuff dam, hans mormor.
Hon gråter inte. Åtminstone inte utanpå.

När Birger återkommer, kramar om pojken och ursäktande säger ”Nu glömmer vi det här.”
Då gråter han – Slarvern.
I den stunden, väjer Vilhelmina inte med blicken och Birger skäms. Inga toner i världen kan rädda honom nu.

©SlowClapStories

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