Reunion (fiction)

Natalie chimed in at the most inappropriate moments.  It’s not that what she said wasn’t interesting, but when you tried to compute the relevance it had to the conversation already in progress, you would be forced to sit in stupefied silence and even the fricken cat would sense something was off, pausing in mid ass-lick to search for meaning.  Then by the time she found something related to the discussion it would usually end up offending everyone.

When someone says their brother died in an earthquake you don’t follow it up with,

"I think earthquakes are fun, it’s like you’re surfing on land."

She actually put her arms out to demonstrate how to surf and I quickly excused myself to the dining room where the desserts were being served.  Aunt Petra blocked my entrance with a cheshire cat smile and outstretched arms that I could either A: duck under or B: embrace and cringe through another invitation of a sleepover or C: punch her in the face and be banned from any family reunion in the future.

"Give your Aunt Petra a huggle Clancy," she growled and for a moment I weighed the consequences of option C.  She wore a leopard hat and a pair of silver dolphin earrings.  That with a fur coat of some additonal unfortunate member of the animal kingdom, topped off with a dozen metal bracelets that clanged together every time she dropped her arms.  She called me Clancy because my mother wanted a girl and I was supposed to be a Nancy, but my name is Clifton and there you have it.  This simple combination creating a  tortuous nickname.  Luckily, I only had to hear it once every five years.

"I just gave you a huggle, "I said, taking a rare stand.

"Well!" she said, pretending to huff, "Maybe you’d like to graduate to a kiss then! You know I used to be a pin-up for a gentleman’s magazine?"

My fake smile was actually disgust and my quick nodding was a blatant lie.  My eyes gradually bugging out was genuine.

"I actually posed for Penthouse you know and once I had to dress up like a German officer and take my clothes off for the Fuhrer- not the real one of course, but a look-a-like.  I had to bend over and he branded me with a hot poker, leaving a swastika on my ass.  I was made as an example to all the other nazis." 

She laughed out loud at the memory and to my horror I couldn’t escape the visuals that flooded my brain.

"You don’t believe me," she said.  "Well, I only have a couple prints because the lay out was a little too controversial, so they never actually published…THAT one.  I have others though."

"I just want to get dessert."

"I know," she said soothingly.  "All you have to do is ask."

She ran her hand over my arm and squeezed.  I willed every family member to appear and witness this sickening display, but I was all too alone at this moment.

"I’ve got something cooking in the oven right now," she assured me.

"Are you…making some gingerbread nazis?"

She didn’t seem to hear this and she leaned in close with her mouth to my ear.

"David…doesn’t mind you know."

"Jesus," I said.  David was my Uncle.

I turned away and walked back to the living room, leaving my seductive aunt to grind against the doorway she was leaning against…at least that’s what I imagined her doing.  I bypassed Natalie who had now been excluded from the conversation and had taken up Jenga with a cousin.  She yelled at me when I accidentally bumped the table and their Jenga tower came crashing down.

Then I was outside and following the stone driveway to the impressive fountain that gushed dramatically at the front entrance, just short of the iron gates that creaked open slowly every time a guest arrived.  There was a stone bench and I parked my butt on it.

I buried my face in my hands and ran them through my hair.  I turned my head and found no one had followed me out, so I gave myself up and let the fountain hypnotise me for awhile.  The water splashed down onto three different platters, each one bigger than the next- a paradise for birds.

The sounds of water consumed me, but after a while I could also hear the screams of a hysterical Hitler and the approving groans of my aunt as she received her ass badge.