Castration Epic (Part 4)

I am completely bald. I have lost my teeth. My dad lies drunk, perhaps dead, on his bed. The black man has disappeared. Someone has dimmed the lights. – George, my mother whispers. Do you want to see the renovations upstairs? She leads me with a cold hand up a long stone staircase to a floor I never knew existed. It’s a massive room, with a raised platform and a king-sized Victorian bed on a pedestal. Red velvet, silver studs, and a giant down cover. My mother, now wearing a negligee, walks through a pair of arches to another room. The walls are painted deep yellow and red. Along the wall are low tables heaped with cakes and coffees. I follow her into another room where the walls are covered with holes. The sun leaks in. There are tapestries and hanging plants, racks of old musical instruments collecting dust. – The room is very unsteady, my mother said, but I hope you appreciate it. An old man entered and said he was the caretaker, but my mother introduced him as a geologist. He looked at me like I was a criminal. I was enthralled with the instruments and the colors. My mother walked back to the bed and sat on it. – Mother, can I bring my friends up here to show them around? I asked, thinking how much Haseed and Roger would love these rooms. – No you may not, my mother said. It is time for bed. Come here. My mother’s eyes seemed unusually puffy. She peeled away the top or her negligee and I looked away, panicked. – Give me your foot, she snapped. I backed away but she had my foot in her cold hand. She placed it on her warm, naked throat and she began to moan. It felt good. Her mouth opened, she spat hot fluid at me which covered my face and legs.