Elder nodded sadly. “Perhaps. But you know as well as I do that they’re ruthless in revenge.”
His mother matched his laugh with an almost identical one. No one could deny they weren’t related. Their mannerisms were similar, their syntax, their hate. “Their revenge stops at you!” She stabbed the counter with the knife. “The sooner they find you, the better for all of us. And stop lying! Always lying! There is no way this is your house. Know how I know? Because Raymond would never stay in a place that’s linked to you. We all prefer you dead. Why would he risk bringing your memory back to life?”
She looked around the space as if it were a dungeon and not the pretty thing it was. “This could never be yours.”
“Never?” Elder stormed toward a large buffet cabinet with a small red padlock hanging from bamboo scrolled doors. “Not mine?” Inserting a key from his pocket, he yanked it open, flinging the doors wide until the contents were revealed. Each and every one. “How do you explain this then?”
His mother stumbled backward as pictures of two young boys and a brown-headed father appeared. Milling, laughing, swings and seesaws, beaches and sunshine. Both children looked so similar with jet black hair and lanky limbs; one taller, one shorter, one older, one younger. And there, in many of the happy portraits, was the woman clutching her knife, a younger version of her laughing for the camera, her arms around her two boys while the man kissed her neck, hugging her from behind.
A family.
Elder’s family.
No one said a word for a pregnant second. It throbbed with the promise of shattering into forgiveness or morphing into malice.
I tore my gaze from the cabinet of memories back to Elder’s mum.
Silent tears cascaded down her cheeks, her skin white as snow. I expected her to crack, to admit that feuding between loved ones were useless when both were hurting. But her hate was too long festered. She turned into a predator, hissing with contempt. “You dare have their photos? After what you did? You dare show me?”
A sob escaped her, sounding more like a gasp for help than breath for more disgust. “How could you?”
“I dare because I loved them too, Okaasan. I miss them so fucking much it kills me.”
She screamed. A short, sharp wail for him to stop. “How dare you look upon their faces? Do you do it because you think they still love you? That they’ll forgive you? You stupid, stupid boy.” She threw the knife onto the counter, letting it scatter and clatter as she swiped at the waterfalls painting her face. “They would never forgive you. I’ll never forgive you!”
Elder stumbled back a step before a black shadow fell over his face. He went from accepting his mother’s rage to no longer permitting her to hurt him.
Watching such a transformation, seeing emotion drain from his eyes brought me more agony than I could stand.
“Never is a long time.” I broke my silence. “Forgiveness can be given for even the worst of crimes.” I couldn’t stand by and let her do this. No matter what had happened.
Don’t meddle.
My inner voice cautioned.
You don’t know what happened.
My common-sense begged.
You would never forgive Alrik for what he did to you.
My logic reasoned.
Don’t ask another to forgive when you don’t know the crime.
I knew all that, but it didn’t stop me from bracing myself. Blindly showing faith in Elder and hoping to God I wasn’t fighting for the villain.
Elder’s mum pinned me under her angry-tear glare. “You’re right. Never is a very long time. An eternity to live without my husband and son. A lifetime to live each day alone and miss them so much my heart is breaking.”
“You still have one son.” I stood my ground.
“A son who stole everything I ever loved.”
“You loved Elder,” I urged. “Once upon a time.”
Her face twisted into something ugly. “Don’t tell me who I loved, you little bitch.”
“That’s enough!” Elder shed his melancholy, an aggressor coming to my rescue. “Call me whatever you like but don’t ever go after Pim. Never. Do you hear me?”
“If she’s with you, she’s as bad as you are. I can call her whatever I want!”
“No.” He shook his head with deliberate calm. “You can’t. I won’t allow you to dishonour her.”
“You dishonour her by not telling her the truth!” His mother pounced on her new subject. “I’m right, aren’t I? This girlfriend of yours doesn’t know who you are. What you’re capable of. What you’re like.” She cackled at me. “Do you know about his ‘condition?’ Do you know how he killed his family? I’ll tell you. He set fire to the house. I still have the scent of my son’s burning body in my nose.”
Coming out from the kitchen, she continued, “Did he tell you where all his money came from? How he stole it from one unsuspecting person? How he took what wasn’t his and layered such thick, thick shame upon his soul? Mark my words—karma will get him. He will pay for his sins, and I suggest you get far away, girl, before that payment comes for him. He’s right that they’ll never stop hunting him. It’s only fair. He deserves to die.”
Goosebumps darted down my arms.
I glanced at Elder.
He merely crossed his arms as if expecting me to bolt out the door. His face hardened. “I did tell you I wasn’t the hero in this story, Pim. Whatever I’ve told you has been the truth. I just haven’t told you many things.”
“Always thought you were smarter than everyone!” His mum shook her head, black hair flailing, glittering with grey. “Even back when you bathed in compliments calling you a virtuoso, a prodigy. Ha! I knew the truth. I knew why you were the way you were. It wasn’t from some gift touched by heaven, but a curse brought upon you from hell.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Elder said as cold and as delicate as snowflakes. “Dad understood. He helped me channel—”
“Yes, and just like I said before. You killed him!”
“I didn't kill him, okaasan. The Chinmoku did. You know this! And they’re hunting all of us. You’re stupid if you believe they’re not a threat to you too.”
“Don’t you say that name!” She slapped hands over her ears. “Blaming others for your evil is not going to work. You were responsible. They died because of you. I did nothing wrong.”