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Chapter 5
Mason got drunk later on the same day.
He had done all he had to, both in the office and in court. He had given his detectives
exhaustive instructions concerning Elena Nicholas, her past and present. He had found Pearl
and suggested that he describe the Indian to an artist, so that they’d have the portrait of his
kidnapper; and this had been done. And it was known that he had been to Pamela’s. After this,
Mason stayed at Johnny’s and got drunk.
Sophia wanted to talk to Brick and to see Johnny; CC accompanied her to the café. And while
his wife was busy with her son, he noticed his.
CC shook his head. On the one hand, it was only too predictable, he told himself; Mason had
been through such an ordeal. On the other hand – he was CC’s son, why should he have been
such a weakling? Quickly, CC crossed the hall and sat at Mason’s table.
“Good night, son,” he said grimly.
Mason’s eyes flashed with what CC thought to be malicious joy. It was so good to have your
invariable opponent, if not enemy, come at such a suitable moment, when your mind was
balancing between the desirable darkness of oblivion and the merciless light of reality. Who
better to lash out at then if not the one you’d been blaming all your failures on, your whole life?
“Hi dad,” Mason said hoarsely. “Came to gloat? To say you knew as much?”
CC shook his head again. “No Mason.”
“You know dad, at first I thought they were holding me to ransom,” Mason intimated. “I already
bid farewell to my miserable existence…”
“Why would you say so?”
“Because I knew you’d hardly stir a finger – let alone spend a cent – on your loser of a son.”
“Now, this is uncalled-for,” CC said, trying hard to keep his temper in check. “You are my son--”
“Has this ever meant anything to you? I don’t recall such times.” Mason paused, looking at CC
through an empty glass, using it like a telescope. “Dad,” he added then, sarcastically.
“Son.” CC leant across the table and lowered his voice. “What are you doing with your life?”
“Nothing new. Don’t act as if you cared, dad; it doesn’t become you.”
Why was he ever so relentless, thought CC with overwhelming bitterness. How much time was
wasted on hate. And how easy it was for Mason now to turn down anything his father would say.
Still, he tried again. “Mason, you have Julia waiting for you. She must be worried. You’re
marrying her--”
“You think I forgot?” Mason frowned. “I don’t think I could; but maybe I should.”
“What do you mean?” CC frowned, too, his mien the very copy of his son’s.
“Ah. Just when did you become such a partisan of Julia’s, dad?”
CC was not a patient man. “Are you going to make the mother of your child suffer?” he boomed.
“Don’t you think she can reconsider marrying you?”
He looked into his firstborn’s eyes. “Or is it exactly what you’re trying to make her do?”
“Oh dad,” said Mason in a weary tone. “Your attempts at paternal affection--”
“Just a minute, Mason,” CC was very obstinate when he wanted to. “Is this the effect you’re
trying to achieve? – But why? Have you quarreled?”
“No.” Mason raised his eyebrow as if challenging CC to guess.
“Got disappointed in her?”
“No.”
“So?”
“She’s a wonderful woman, dad.”
“But you’re unhappy with her?”
Mason shook his head. “Wrong again, dad.”
“She’s a wonderful woman you’re happy with, that’s why you do everything to make her leave
you,” CC summarized, in disbelief.
“This time you got it right.”
“No, Mason!” – but CC already knew this was true; it was scary to look at Mason’s ghost of a
smile, just like peeping into an abyss. “Why, son?”
Normally, Mason would never answer such a question, not his father’s anyway. But this time –
either it was today’s meeting with Pamela that influenced him so, or alcohol after a long period
of abstaining, - this time he spoke up.
“Mother left me,” he said. “She loved me but she left me.”
CC knew it was a wound never healed, an act never forgiven. He just did not know what to say,
so he kept silent; and this was for the better, for Mason took a long, long dramatic pause.
“Mary,” he said, and then he coughed, covering a nervous spasm in his throat. “She loved me
and she left me forever.”
“And you’re afraid Julia will leave you?” To CC this was unfathomable. “You’re so afraid you’re
pushing her away? Too much afraid to risk? Too much afraid to take the responsibility for the
breakup?!”
Mason laughed. “No, I’m not afraid.”
“Right,” CC said, aghast. “You’re terrified.”
“You’ll see,” Mason argued. “She won’t want me. No one does.”
Helpless, CC looked at his firstborn, and in him, fury mixed with the painful realization he was
responsible for his son turning out like this.
“Just go away now, please, dad,” Mason asked. “Please. Just go away now.”
“Mason--”
“Go away.”
Sophia had come quietly; now she squeezed CC’s shoulder. “Let’s go, honey.”
CC stood up and turned to look at his son again. “Mason. Do you--” His voice failed him. “Do
you want to go home with us? Spend the night in your own old room--”
Mason shook his head, the same strange smile playing on his lips. “No dad. There’s no coming
back.”
Mason got drunk later on the same day.
He had done all he had to, both in the office and in court. He had given his detectives
exhaustive instructions concerning Elena Nicholas, her past and present. He had found Pearl
and suggested that he describe the Indian to an artist, so that they’d have the portrait of his
kidnapper; and this had been done. And it was known that he had been to Pamela’s. After this,
Mason stayed at Johnny’s and got drunk.
Sophia wanted to talk to Brick and to see Johnny; CC accompanied her to the café. And while
his wife was busy with her son, he noticed his.
CC shook his head. On the one hand, it was only too predictable, he told himself; Mason had
been through such an ordeal. On the other hand – he was CC’s son, why should he have been
such a weakling? Quickly, CC crossed the hall and sat at Mason’s table.
“Good night, son,” he said grimly.
Mason’s eyes flashed with what CC thought to be malicious joy. It was so good to have your
invariable opponent, if not enemy, come at such a suitable moment, when your mind was
balancing between the desirable darkness of oblivion and the merciless light of reality. Who
better to lash out at then if not the one you’d been blaming all your failures on, your whole life?
“Hi dad,” Mason said hoarsely. “Came to gloat? To say you knew as much?”
CC shook his head again. “No Mason.”
“You know dad, at first I thought they were holding me to ransom,” Mason intimated. “I already
bid farewell to my miserable existence…”
“Why would you say so?”
“Because I knew you’d hardly stir a finger – let alone spend a cent – on your loser of a son.”
“Now, this is uncalled-for,” CC said, trying hard to keep his temper in check. “You are my son--”
“Has this ever meant anything to you? I don’t recall such times.” Mason paused, looking at CC
through an empty glass, using it like a telescope. “Dad,” he added then, sarcastically.
“Son.” CC leant across the table and lowered his voice. “What are you doing with your life?”
“Nothing new. Don’t act as if you cared, dad; it doesn’t become you.”
Why was he ever so relentless, thought CC with overwhelming bitterness. How much time was
wasted on hate. And how easy it was for Mason now to turn down anything his father would say.
Still, he tried again. “Mason, you have Julia waiting for you. She must be worried. You’re
marrying her--”
“You think I forgot?” Mason frowned. “I don’t think I could; but maybe I should.”
“What do you mean?” CC frowned, too, his mien the very copy of his son’s.
“Ah. Just when did you become such a partisan of Julia’s, dad?”
CC was not a patient man. “Are you going to make the mother of your child suffer?” he boomed.
“Don’t you think she can reconsider marrying you?”
He looked into his firstborn’s eyes. “Or is it exactly what you’re trying to make her do?”
“Oh dad,” said Mason in a weary tone. “Your attempts at paternal affection--”
“Just a minute, Mason,” CC was very obstinate when he wanted to. “Is this the effect you’re
trying to achieve? – But why? Have you quarreled?”
“No.” Mason raised his eyebrow as if challenging CC to guess.
“Got disappointed in her?”
“No.”
“So?”
“She’s a wonderful woman, dad.”
“But you’re unhappy with her?”
Mason shook his head. “Wrong again, dad.”
“She’s a wonderful woman you’re happy with, that’s why you do everything to make her leave
you,” CC summarized, in disbelief.
“This time you got it right.”
“No, Mason!” – but CC already knew this was true; it was scary to look at Mason’s ghost of a
smile, just like peeping into an abyss. “Why, son?”
Normally, Mason would never answer such a question, not his father’s anyway. But this time –
either it was today’s meeting with Pamela that influenced him so, or alcohol after a long period
of abstaining, - this time he spoke up.
“Mother left me,” he said. “She loved me but she left me.”
CC knew it was a wound never healed, an act never forgiven. He just did not know what to say,
so he kept silent; and this was for the better, for Mason took a long, long dramatic pause.
“Mary,” he said, and then he coughed, covering a nervous spasm in his throat. “She loved me
and she left me forever.”
“And you’re afraid Julia will leave you?” To CC this was unfathomable. “You’re so afraid you’re
pushing her away? Too much afraid to risk? Too much afraid to take the responsibility for the
breakup?!”
Mason laughed. “No, I’m not afraid.”
“Right,” CC said, aghast. “You’re terrified.”
“You’ll see,” Mason argued. “She won’t want me. No one does.”
Helpless, CC looked at his firstborn, and in him, fury mixed with the painful realization he was
responsible for his son turning out like this.
“Just go away now, please, dad,” Mason asked. “Please. Just go away now.”
“Mason--”
“Go away.”
Sophia had come quietly; now she squeezed CC’s shoulder. “Let’s go, honey.”
CC stood up and turned to look at his son again. “Mason. Do you--” His voice failed him. “Do
you want to go home with us? Spend the night in your own old room--”
Mason shook his head, the same strange smile playing on his lips. “No dad. There’s no coming
back.”
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