Friday, November 26, 2010

Over Breakfast.

Over Breakfast.

“Mmm-mmm tastes good,” Jess says with a mouthful of blood. “You should try it sometime.”

Staring at Jess as she envelops a spoonful of entrails with a slurp, I’m convinced that one us of is adopted. Another morning in this household will of course make you feel crazy, but living with that for a sister can’t possibly help the situation. Quietly seated across the table over to the left of my sister sits her boyfriend, Grover eating a bowlful of the same blood soaked insides. The freakshow in a muscle tee sits with his backwards baseball cap nodding along with Jess.

“You’re disgusting.” I never eat a bowl of anything sour in the morning. The whole thought of it makes my stomach sick.

Jess mockingly replies “You’re disgusting” in a high pitched whine about five times before stopping and moving onto what I am eating. “Not only are you disgusting but whatever you’re eating is foul. It reeks and looks absolutely revolting. What is that?”

The light of day breaks through the kitchen window as Dad stumbles out of the basement door into the kitchen. Before anyone can get out a ‘Good Morning,’ Mom has already arrived on scene to begin morning inquisition. I’ll take HOMEWORK for $1000.

“Renna, did you finish you’re assignment for Biology last night? The instructions were explicit. It needed to be completed last night before decomposition set in further. Such a tricky thing? Dealing with human organs. I honestly don’t know why the school system bothers. Don’t you agree dear?” Mom’s overly concerned paragraph went from me to dad in less than thirty seconds. A new record.

“Of course, dear?” Dad extends out a hand to offer a cup of coffee then realizes an obvious silence in my general direction. “Renna, your homework?”

“It’s not finished. I dissected the liver but there’s a problem with the tissue samples. I’m not following what the book says. I figured I could ask Mr. Vacader for an extension so he could explain.”

Mom slams down the coffee and exhales, “Renna you need to work on these problems immediately. An extension will be of no use. It’s a pass or fail assignment. Honey, what are we going to do? Please talk to her.”

“It’s too late this time. No matter. You can pick up some extra credit. Renna, what are you eating?” Dad lowers his glasses before moving onto the toaster that’s erupted in bread.

“Why aren’t you having a bowl of healthy blood like your sister?” says Mom taking point once again.

“Mom, that makes me sick. Why don’t you just say I should be more like my sister?”

“Well why can’t you? She’s practically getting perfect letters. Taking out three or four humans on her trials. Working towards a degree in human psychology is extraordinarily challenging. Not to mention, conditioning that wild human to behave like a dog was astounding.”

“Jess. Jess. Jess. Why couldn’t you have gotten that whole genetic mutation thing done when you had me? You know like the Johnsons next door. Then you might have a two headed daughter that could do something right?  Two for the price of one.”

“You’re so jealous.” Jess interrupts. “Why don’t you feed yourself to the Johnson’s whatchamacallit for a daughter? Then we wouldn’t have to bother with a freak like you around here.”

“Shut up. Why don’t you?”

“Renna stop provoking your sister. You always compete for our attention by misbehaving.”

“Yeah Renna. Stop competing. You will just keep losing.” Jess says before she swallows another spoon of blood and opens up wide for me to see the entrails slide down her throat.

“Mom that isn’t fair. Like Jess isn’t competing. She’s the one dating Mr. Captain All American over there.” I say ignoring the disgusting display and deflecting the discussion.

“Hey NOW. Leave me out of your girlish squabbles of nonsense.” Pipes up Grover. The buffoon pauses before continuing. Slowly he lifts his spoon out his bowl and shakes it in my direction. “I’m a bogey. 100% genuine monster DNA. I’ve have you know there’s no people parts in here. I’m descended from soldiers’ blood. Engineered to blend in and fool the humans.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t… It’s not your fault.”

“Apology accepted. Look little lady, no need to get upset. All I’m saying is that you need to watch where you’re throwing accusations. What the… what are you eating?”

“Yes, Renna.” My mother calmly looks over breakfast. Her eyes beginning at the middle of the table where we’ve all gathered and moving until reaching my small bowl that doesn’t move quite like the others. “Please darling. Tell us what you are eating?”

“Come now, kiddo. It’s so very quiet and interesting in your dish.” Says Dad between tiny bites of blood, toast and coffee.

“What’s your problem Ren? Bad blood in your coffee?” Jess snickers as I pull up another bite, chew and swallow.

“I sort of got a little hungry last night. Last night when I was working on the human. Pulling out his liver and sorting through his intestines got me in the mood for something different.”

“Honey, I used to get quite an appetite when working on humans at your age. There’s nothing wrong with it.” Dad shifts his glasses with every word of wisdom. “Tell us what is it?? It appears interestingly pliable. Bones? From a large animal? A side of beef? An Elk?”

“Not exactly, Dad. It’s just that I noticed how you mentioned that the Monks of Cicero like to cannibalize their dead and as I was opening up the human’s stomach I found…”

The sheer horror on their faces mounts as I spill the confession that can’t be helped. The truth that’s coming.

“I found this piece of… Dad can you help me? I can not recall what it’s called but this is very delicious. Come on there’s nothing wrong with it. They grow on the trees outside. Dad?”

“You’re revolting. Eating from trees.” Jess spatters blood with this disgust. “Mom, she’s… Dad, make her…”

Over keels Mom as Jess and Grover sit open-jawed in shock across the table.

“It’s an apple, honey.”

“Yes! That’s it. An apple. Like in the books.”

“You really shouldn’t.... The trees… If….”

“And I can see the look of disgust in your eyes, but I have to assure you… this isn’t my choosing to be different. I think it chose me. It’s absolutely delicious and I can’t get enough.”

Calmly I take another bite and tell them. “Mmm-mmm. You really should try it sometime.”

Monsters. Who’s to say we aren’t all monsters already? You know what I say… when in Paris. Do as the Parisians do. And you can always be a better monster. Another from a few months back that was going to be bartered but in the end did not get the opportunity. Anyhow, spent a couple days prior to T-day trying to find a funny turkey story. You have to understand… storytelling runs in the family and my grandfather had this amazing turkey story that no one can remember. So I search. Asked high and low, to and fro, known and unknown people for their tales. Those wondrous tales about turkeys and turned up nothing. No nothing came of it. So instead… I thought why not share a little of something else. Since you’re all already pretty stuffed. And of course thinking of monsters… enjoy. kisses. m. 

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