13/12/1987. Day Six Thousand Three Hundred and Thirty Two.
"Why are there so many letters from women I've never heard of here?"
"Aren't you married to mom?", he interrogated.
Jeremy rushed across the room and swiped the letters out of his hand, forcefully enough for some to tear and wrinkle.
"You don't get to read my stuff!", he instructed without yelling.
"You can go months without writing to us", Gregor continued, indifferent to the instruction, "only to call and say you're busy with work, but you have enough time to be exchanging flirty letters with women"
"You read all these letters?", he said as if trying to understand, "I hate it when kids start speaking of things they don't know"
"Stop prying and return to your room, I might just forgive you for doing something you weren't supposed to"
"No", responded teenage Gregor, "you can't just brush this off, explain"
"Explain?", mumbled Jeremy, as he laughed it off, and smiled in disbelief.
"You want me to explain to...you?"
"That's how less of a man you think of me"
"This is my house, they aren't two fathers here, take your bags and get out"
"This house only belongs to respectful kids that know their place"
"I was going to leave either way, after what I read, I can picture you the same, you disgust me", he said, "mom, wouldn't do something like this"
"Yeah?", laughed his father, "but she would neglect a daughter of mine", he said.
"What makes you say that?", demanded Gregor.
"Go home, kid, you stay any longer, and I'd need thrice the alcohol I already consume"
"And I am not an alcoholic, I don't want to be an alcoholic"
"But you are the type of child that causes their parents to drink more meanwhile you'd remain oblivious of how stressful taking care of you actually is", he remarked, "that's the type of kid you turning out to be"
"So just take yourself back to someone you'd obey", he said arranging his letters, "don't visit me, until I visit you"
"That wouldn't be new", Gregor replied, "it won't feel like punishment, I'm already used to it"
"Jesus. Holy moly, you haven't even been here a day"
"If you are honest to God, and believe I do what I do for no absolute reason, but to be negligent, than I have wasted my time on an ungrateful child"
"When your mother", he continued pointing and poking his index finger on Gregor's forehead, in a manner that rocks his head back and forth, "needed assistance with her work, and your school, I sent Lusanda over"
"And how did she return, pregnant, a smoker, a drinker, a hard, stubborn head just like yourself, and now she's uneducated...just like her father"
"A father who did not want that"
"I sent her to her, and she brought her back, a child whom she neglected"
"All those years!"
"All that time of misbehaving, I knew nothing!", he yelled, "absolutely nothing!"
"The one time I get an update, a truthful feedback, on my own daughter, I'm informed that she's pregnant!"
"She won't be able to cope with another child in the home, she said!"
"She won't be able to cope, with a child that never listens to her and has disdain for her"
"She said!"
"Ha-Ha-Ha", laughed Jeremy, "disdain, I'm starting to think that the disdain between them was mutual"
"You know Lusanda is not her child. Perhaps she turned out the way that she did because your mother neglected her"
"All the while, pretending like she cared"
"Isn't she just a phoney?"
Teenage Gregor slapped his father's finger off his forehead, "you take that back!", he demanded.
"You were never there, and I don't know what lies my sister fed you, but mom is not to blame for this!"
"You weren't there, so you don't get to judge"
"You don't get to judge!", Gregor had repeated, and broke into tears, the boy began breathing excessively.
"I was now found", said Jeremy continuing, "with a daughter, a grandson, and you, all of whom I had to take care of, I was losing it like any human would"
"I earn peanuts, yet you go to school"
"I earn peanuts, yet you are able to eat!"
"Perhaps not more than your neighbour, but it is the best that I can provide"
"And here you are raising your voice at me"
"You're a clever, clever, boy aren't you, but you seem to miss the main cause for this is the fact that we do not live under one roof"
"Had she wanted to live under one roof, this mess wouldn't have occurred in the first place!", he broke.
"It's like I said, I hate it when kids start talking about things they don't understand"
"When you think you have the full story…"
"YOU DO NOT!"
"But have yourself point fingers at me, because I'm so easy to blame"
"And when I exchange letters with several women, to ease my stress, I won't have a care for your distress"
"Now take yourself, out of my home – you piece of wasted effort"
"Oh"
"You want to punch me now", said Jeremy, as Gregor had walked up to him with a clenched fist in the air, he hesitated the punch but stared down his father in absolute rage, veins on his face, tears still racing down to the beat of uncontrollable breathing, so excessive he was aiding it with his chest.
"Go on now, give me your best shot", Jeremy encouraged by moving his face to the side giving up his cheek, "truly some father and son bonding we have here"
"You've never been in a fight before, so ideally the first punch you ever land on someone should be your father"
"I…I…I am not a piece of wasted effort", he had finally said.
"Okay"
"Now go tell that to someone that will believe you", said Jeremy, tilting back his head and shoved his son to the side almost like he was attempting to push him over. Gregor had temporarily lost his balance but manage to catch himself just before the fall.
"And you supposed to be an athlete", Jeremy commented, utterly unimpressed by the scene
"I need a drink", he said and walked away.
17/12/1987. Day Six Thousand Three Hundred and Thirty Six.
"Gregor!?", Dorothy Gambelia sounded surprised while answering the door, "what brings you here?", she said peeking out, "and where is your mother at?"
"She went out for a bit", he mildly replied, "I just wanted to come see you real quick"
"Yeah, come on in", she invited, and opened her door widely.
"No, this won't be long"
"I…found out", he said and kept his tale.
"Found out…what?"
"About the letters", he said, "...written by my father..."
"Very graphic, romantic, to a lot of women, and a few...to you"
"Oh those. I'm sorry"
"But that was so long ago, I didn't do anything though, I stopped what he was trying to get at before anything got anywhere"
"You have to believe me"
"I do"
"I know you are telling the truth, I'm not here to confront you or anything like that", he said.
"I'm here to ask if you ever told mom about them? Does she know?"
"Gregor", she said, with a worried expression.
"I don't know if she knows, but I never said anything", she admitted.
"I never figured out the best course of action"
"I see", he had said, "I'm going to go and I'm sorry to have bothered like this"
"Please forget about this encounter"
"Let we just forget it all"
5/10/1993. Day Eight Thousand Four Hundred and Fifty Five.
"How many more articles are you left with?", asked an unknown person in a now adult Gregor's view.
"Too many, if you keep bothering me", he joked, barely looking at her, "you finished your work?"
"Yes", she had replied, "I'm a fast writer"
"Only because you disturb everyone else and get ahead when you've managed to distract all", adult Gregor remarked.
"I do that?", the unidentified lady asked, "I, honestly never noticed it"
"Yeah right, you know yourself"
As he lost focus on his work, he dropped his pen and paid more attention to the bunch of chatter happening around him, "everyone here is just a disturbance", he comments on what he sees.
"You don't need much focus to write an article", said the girl.
"All the information is already given to you"
"Yeah but it's not that simple…", Gregor tried to defend but the sudden outburst of the telephone's ringtone interrupts him.
"Jesus Christ!", he grunts and shrugs his shoulders in shock before reaching for the phone, "I don't think I work for a call centre", he complained just before taking the call.
"Hello", he greets.
"Gregor, hi"
Lusanda's voice sounded on the other end, he had to cover his left ear to muffle out the indistinct chatter of folks around him, "don't hang up", she warned before Gregor could complete the attempt.
"This is an emergency"
"Something bad has happened…"
"Than out with it"
"Cynthia is no more. They think she had a heart attack"
25/10/1993. Day Eight Thousand Four Hundred and Seventy Five.
In the front row of what looks like a chapel, Gregor remained seated, as people of mostly black attire, as the colour of his suit fits, were walking out.
On their way out, some of them pat his back, or tagged his shoulder as a gentle manner to console his grieve. An act that does nothing but keep him in place, eyes locked on a coffin and it's bouquet of flowers.
"How are you coping, kid?", Jeremy asked in the middle of sitting down next to him.
"I let you know, I'm not here to fight or anything", he excused.
"I just need someone to talk to, as you need someone too"
"I guess you just need some silence", he noted of him, reclined, and kept his tale, staring up ahead in empty space.
"I'm surprised you came", Gregor finally said after a minute of silence.
"Please, don't", said Jeremy.
"Don't imply I'm so cruel as to not show up to my own wife's funeral"
They conversed without looking at each other, but each kept focus on the coffin.
"Remember the time when I found out about the letters", the son continued, "you told me things happened the way they did because mom refused to relocate and move in with you"
"When you said what you said, I began to regret bringing it up, I was feeling bad", he confessed.
"I felt like an idiot for putting the blame solely on you, and not her, and not even Lusanda"
"It was part of the reason I hardly tried to make amends, because I felt ashamed"
"But over the past three weeks since her death, I searched through her belongings and once again found things I was never meant to know of"
"Turns out you lied to me", he says.
"The original reason she moved away, was because you had Lusanda during your marriage to mom"
"Why did you lie to me?", he asked as he finally looked away from the coffin and at his father.
"I'm only here to pay my respects", Jeremy replied, "I'm not here to fight with you", without returning Gregor's pungent stare.
"You can go pay your respects somewhere else", Gregor demanded and rose to feet, "you shouldn't have come in the first place"
"I don't want to see you at the burial"
"You know, working in the mines, I've been to a lot of funerals", Jeremy said, "and what's always fascinating about every funeral is that"
"There's always one person who believes that their grief for the deceased is greater than everyone and anyone else, and once they do that"
"They always act like they were the only ones that cared, and turn into bullies", Jeremy's comments came as he rose to his feet but keeps his gaze to himself.
"Bullying everyone that's merely trying to pay their respect, to the same person you are trying to honour", he said and finally met Gregor's eyes.
"Denying me the chance to honour my wife, and acknowledge my mistakes, is something I never thought my son would do"
"YOU LIED!", yells Gregor in his face, "You lied! You lied!"
"And she's gone. You are too late"
"Enough of this act"
"Enough trying to make me feel guilty, I won't have it!"
"Not anymore!"
The stare lasted as long as the tension had stretched, Jeremy considered the request, while he kept looking at the coffin, and lightly nodding in acceptance.
"Okay", he decided, "Have your way. I'll leave"
"But remember, there is more honour in not attending a funeral, than there is in making it all about you"
Right then Gregor snapped and punched him hard across the face, with enough force to send him three steps back, and immediately cover his bleeding mouth and press against the pain in his cheek.
"Happy now?", he said, in heavy breath, "I guess I finally landed my first punch"
Cretone, Eye of Deeds, was brought to a pause by the prosecutor Panteku.
It stands over it, as if absorbing the moment, had the demeanour of a blessed being, like this trial was going exactly how it had hoped.
"What fruitful relationships you've had", it teased, "this trial will be boring if it weren't for me"
The prosecutor tilted and turned, to face Cynthia again.
"It is very hard to parent what you don't know", it quoted her mortal words, "no truer words were ever said", and proclaimed.
"However, the wise words you used on the accused, will now ease my plight"
"And I have you to thank for that", the devil's advocate gave a light but potent bow.
"Now, I must say I'm glad all that call back to life is over with, we can proceed to more interesting things"
"Cynthia", it calls again.
She and Jeremy were still on their feet.
"Now that you've seen the truth, of all the secrecy that went on when your back was turned, and how those secrets affected your lives in the long run"
"I may not have shown you everything, but enough for you to reconsider your verdict", it said, "or perhaps not, regardless my point will stand in the end"
"So, let us have it, do you think this mortal, Homeless Gregor, is worthy of elevated admission?"
"Yes", Cynthia replied without an ounce of hesitation, "I still vouch and stand by him"
"Yeah, I knew you'd say that", it claimed.
"But now that you've vouched for him, give us reason for your vote"
"Why should we send him to Heaven?"
"I do not have the ability to debate with you", she replied.
"Of course not", agreed Panteku, "however, even right now, do you still recognize the accused as your son?"
"Without a doubt"
"So, as a mother, you recognize that desiring the best for your son, is a responsibility of yours?"
"Yes, I do. Which is why I vouch for him"
"I'm aware, but you realise, this is not just about me prosecuting him to heaven"
"It is also about proving that he deserves to be there"
"Verdicts, testimonies, vouching, and blessings, stand for nothing"
"It is all about conviction!"
"Thus you giving us nothing but your vouch without substantiating it, does nothing for your son, and everything for my case"
"Pursuing you to elaborate and substantiate your verdict, is my way of being generous. For I could have made heap of your silence"
"Cynthia", it said again in an almost mortal tone, "look around you"
"In case you have not realised, you occupy the the front row of his cosmic trial"
"Which means you are a key witness of his life"
"Any mortal that is sat in the first three rows of the cosmic court played a huge role in an accused life"
"Meaning, I didn't place you there, Cretone did"
"If Cretone places you in the first three rows, better believe your words carry more weight than the others"
"And testimonies aren't going so well for your son", the prosecutor continued.
"His friends vouched for him, but then went against their words, once I showed them an unmasked reality"
"So, that didn't help him"
"His father doesn't stand with him, so that doesn't help him either"
"And how many more in this room are yet to speak?"
"Feel free to look around"
"How many of them can you recognize? Do you think they are all here to cheer him on?"
"You are his mother, aren't you?"
"Proof to us. That a mother knows her son best, and stop them now from spreading any misinformation about your boy"
"The biggest contribution you could make is that of enlightenment, you have the opportunity to enlighten us, or me rather as to why your Homeless son deserves eternal peace"
"As surreal as it may be, as manipulative as I may seem"
"There has never been a bigger moment to defend the honour of your son, of child by a parent, then this very moment"
"Root now, or never cheer him again"
"Cynthia, give me something", it persuaded.
"He is my son!", she yelled, under the guise of a subtle sob.
"Everyone open the pearly gates, right this moment! Tell them to prepare a feast, for this mortal is Cynthia's son", Panteku mocked.
"You've shown the court the clips", she started over, "but only the ones that leaves room for criticism", she says.
"You've shown us how much he lied, but I...all I saw was much he cared"
"He cared for my well being"
"He cared so much that he didn't want to burden me with any stress he thought I couldn't cope with"
"I don't know what you saw, but that is what I saw, I saw my son", she affirmed.
"Yes, he lied, but was there any ulterior motives behind those lies?"
"Did he deliberately lie to hurt people around him? or did he lie because he thought he was doing something right?"
"Each time he kept his sisters secrets, he did it because he was trying to protect me"
"And because he thought, she would get into trouble"
"That is what I saw, you may have your way with words, but I cannot be convinced otherwise"
"When he omitted to tell me about the discoveries concerning his father, he did it to protect me"
"He never intended to do anyone wrong, not to his sister, not to me, and not even his father"
"I'd also like to point out, you refused to showcase any good he did in between your selected clips"
"The good he has done for whom?", the Panteku questioned, "for you?"
"If for you, yes, there is plenty, but not much for anyone else"
"Also, you should not phrase it like that, you brought up some fair points"
"But by succeeding it with, 'I have not shown the good he's done', you are diminishing everything you formerly said"
"As that would mean you've indirectly implied those previous deeds are questionable, and good can be categorised"
"Your job isn't to argue with the witness", Ansi finally interjected.
"Well who else will I challenge? You are still too busy playing mute", countered Panteku.
"That said"
"The essence of your argument, Cynthia, reads and translates to, 'my son deserves heaven because he was good to me'"
"Of course that is a reason in itself"
"And since the whole stand is full of mortals, it will be the essence of all their verdicts, whether they are for or against his admission, is usually dependent on how they were received by the Homeless man during their shared encounters"
"But just because someone was good to you, does not mean they are a good person"
Cynthia bit her lip out of frustration, "this is why I'd rather not speak", she said, "you turn everyone's words against them. It is a thing of yours"
"I know, thank you"
"But, it does not change the fact that he did the best he could"
"Okay", says Panteku, "I hear you, you've said your piece"
"Let I speak with Jeremy"
"You still stand by your verdict"
"Yes", replied Jeremy after a short muse, "I do"
"Like I did everyone else, tell me why?"
His eyes shifted between Panteku, and Homeless Gregor.
Rather than look at him directly, he hoovers his glance around him, "as everyone saw in those clips"
"He never had any respect for me. He always looked down on me, despite me working my hardest to uplift him", he argued in a half-hearted tone.
"When I tried to make amends he shoved me aside, like a stranger"
"And even strangers had shown me more respect than he ever had, kicked me out of my wife's funeral, and put his hands on me"
"That funeral occurred in ninety three", said Panteku, "the Homeless one, died long after that, I'm not defending anyone here, but, are you saying you were holding a grudge until his death?"
"Did you guys never speak since then?"
"You could verify this with that Eye thing of yours", he muttered out of frustration and fear.
"I know, but I don't want to", Panteku replied.
"I age faster when watching your lives, than I do by spending time in hell"
"He did apologise", Jeremy clarified.
"But anyone with sense could tell he resented me", Jeremy said and soon met his son's gaze.
Homeless Gregor's facial expression was hard to read, Jeremy couldn't tell whether he was shocked by his testimony or if he was welcoming his words. By his own interpretation, he had a blanket stare. That somehow made him feel uncomfortable enough to look away.
"I could tell it was not pure, he…he despised me"
"And basically spat out everything I tried to do for him", said Jeremy, "that's about all I have to say"
"So, basically", Panteku says nearly laughing, "you're using this as a platform to complain about your son"
"Children are supposed to respect their parents", Jeremy replied.
"Honour thy father, and thy mother", Panteku recited.
"One parent feels honoured, the other does not"
"Good"
"Your honour, members of this court"
"I am ready for my next set of charges"