"How old was I?" Calder croaked.
My body had begun shaking and I couldn't seem to get it to stop. Oh, Calder. I could practically feel the grief emanating off of him. My heart squeezed tightly.
"Three."
"Gods above," Calder choked out, letting go of my hand and grabbing the hair at his temples.
"How'd you know Thomas?" I asked, trying not to tear up.
Morris's eyes swung toward me. "Look at you, pretty thing." He sat forward. "Used to have little girls like you between my legs all the time," he said, his eyes drooping slightly.
"Don't look at her!" Calder yelled, breaking the quiet of the room and startling me. He grabbed me and moved me halfway behind his own body. "Keep your eyes on me, you sick, disgusting old man."
As I peeked out from behind Calder, Morris's eyes filled with amusement. He was enjoying this. Who was this person? The whole situation felt unreal—a grotesque nightmare—something you tried to describe to someone else later and couldn't find the words because there were none.
"Well now, this is good timing," Morris said, ignoring Calder's insult. "I'm glad I get to tell this story before I meet my maker." His face moved into that same leering semblance of a grin and I imagined exactly who this man's maker was. "It's a good one." His eyes narrowed on Calder and then moved between us for several tense moments as if he was making sure we were as interested as he wanted us to be. He nodded.
"Yeah, I knew Thomas from the university. I had to bring you along with me a couple times to get my paycheck when you wouldn't keep your trap shut. He saw you. Took an interest. Came out to see me one day and made me an offer I could hardly refuse." My scalp prickled and the hair on my arms stood up in alarm. I held tightly to Calder when I felt him sway slightly.
Morris sighed. "I always did like the drink and the gambling," he said and shrugged. "You like the drink, Kieran? If you do, you get that from me." He winked, showing us his full swollen eyelid, and then laughed heartily as if he'd made some sort of joke.
"What'd you figure he wanted me for?" Calder asked, ignoring his question, his voice sounding dead.
The man let out another smooth laugh and shrugged. "Figured he liked pretty kids. What he did with you was his business." He leaned forward very slightly. "I made him pay though. Every year, he paid me. Came in person to deliver me cash."
"Came in person?" Calder repeated. It sounded like he was in shock. I considered pulling him out of there, bolting out of this house of horror and disgust. But my legs wouldn't move. It felt like I was glued to the spot as my mind tried to grasp the evil of the story this man, Calder's father, was telling us. And for what? To relieve his own conscious? No, for his amusement. It was clear he was enjoying this.
"I cried for you," Calder said. "Holy gods, I cried for you." And now I could hear the emotion in his voice and everything in me screamed out to protect him. I pulled at him, but he resisted, staying rooted to the spot. "So much it damaged my throat," he choked out.
Morris's expression took on a glittering interest. "Oh yeah? Yeah," he said as if realizing how much sense that made. "You liked me. 'Da' this and 'Da' that, even cleaned up after me when I was too drunk to move. That's why I made sure I got paid." He nodded as if he had just made a very valid point.
The room around me seemed to sway. This was too horrific to be real. I shook my head slightly in case this was all a terrifying nightmare I could snap out of.
Calder sucked in a breath and turned to leave. His expression was calm, but there was a clear glaze of panic in his eyes. He reached out to wipe a tear from my cheek and it was only then that I realized I was crying silently.
"Who was my mother?" Calder asked.
Morris seemed confused by the question. "Oh, her? Some little girl claimed I took advantage of her." He shrugged slowly, and then huffed out a breath, as if the small raise of his shoulders was an effort. "I didn't even remember who she was when she showed up here dropping you off on my doorstep practically. I could see you were mine though. You had my good looks." He laughed, deep melody ringing throughout the room and my muscles tensed. "She was an Indian. You know, the feather kind." He brought one bloated hand slowly up to his lips and rapped it against his open mouth, making an ow wow wow wow sound. I flinched as he laughed again, deep and hearty. We turned away again.
"Don't you want to hear the real secret though?" Morris raised his voice.
We both froze, turning back to him. His face was filled with excitement.
As we stared at him, Morris wheezed in a couple sharp breaths and turned to grab the oxygen mask again and bring it to his face, sucking in several gasping breaths before finally bringing it away from his mouth.