Louise didn’t like how negatively her brother reacted to the -experience- of visiting the Maitre’s performance. Her relative, meanwhile, just wanted to go home, erase the whole day, and format the soul.
The camera tripod? Still back at the shop. Erich had completely forgotten about it — because, surprise, they never made it to the shopping part of their trip.
The road back to their native coastline wasn’t short. And the silence only tightened its noose. But the guy didn’t mind. He considered silence his cousin, if not his lover. Unlike the person sitting next to him, who clearly wasn’t used to it. Louise felt that. She could tell their budding relationship — if you could even call it that — had already begun to crack before it even bloomed.
She regretted dragging this feral creature into such a crowded ritual. He wasn’t ready. Not spiritually, not socially, not even deodorantly. At the same time, she felt a bubbling thrill from meeting such a powerful figure as the Ma?tre. She couldn’t wait to share it all with Imani. But first
- she had to do something about the apathy ball sitting next to her, who’d wrapped himself in vintage arc headphones and escaped.
-I’m used to it, day by day, I dream that the darkness takes me away... Left all alone, I’m not afraid. I take a sincere step, I choose my own way. And I know I’ll stay myself… I know I’ll stay myself…
- UVULA –You and Your
The girl let one hand off the wheel and jabbed her elbow into Erich’s ribs. He slid one earcup down, staring at her blankly.
- Remember what mom used to say? Frown too long — and your face’ll freeze like He muttered:
- A lot of people say Not mom’s invention. Anyway, I’ve already got wrinkles. He made a move to pull the headphones back on, but Louise caught his hand and said:
- Let’s
- About what?
- About life, bro. The ol’ majestic mess. Let’s forget what happened Just a heart-to-heart. I mean — don’t I look serious?
He glanced at the signature still scrawled across her forehead and allowed himself the briefest of smirks. Louise pounced on the moment:
- Do you think… our parents ever loved us? Even a little?
- I’m not ready to talk about I don’t want to. – He began, but Louise steamrolled over him, pretending not to hear.
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- I think mom really did Deep down. Remember her dress? He answered mechanically:
- Yeah… the blue With the hydrangea print.
- That’s the It was her favorite. She wore it every time we visited grandma or Aunt Dorothy. I always thought she didn’t want to replace it — even when I begged her to get a new one. I think we all attach meaning to stuff.
Erich folded into himself, arms wrapped around his ribs, forehead pressed against the cold window. Watching the pretty scenery. Saying nothing. Louise, of course, kept going.
- When dad disappeared… and mom died not long after, I didn’t think about the You know what came to mind? Those freaky masks at Francesca’s place. I was convinced they were cursed. Like, actually cursed. That they made people sick.
- I remember
- I think the problem was their The parents. They spent too much time in dead, ancient ruins. Either roasting on the surface or coughing through tomb dust underground. That stuff messes with your head. I think we became hostages to their world. There was no room left — not for love, not for respect, not even for basic -hey, you’re my kid- affection.
- Alright, that’ll be $500. Your therapy session is – She ended with a dumb joke, but it landed. Erich flinched… then eased up a little.
It was working. She could keep going.
- I just meant… none of this is our fault. We’re not the cause. We’re the leftovers. Roadkill on the highway of And maybe it sounds like I’m shifting the blame, but I’m just trying to lift it off us. What were we supposed to do? Just two kids left alone in the world, without a map or even a halfway sober adult?
Erich tapped his knuckles against the window. Not hard, but with meaning. A silent Morse code that said: stop talking or say more, but don’t lie. The topic had clearly gotten to him. Which was, of course, the plan.
- You didn’t have to make me look — He finally whispered.
Louise’s hands clenched the steering wheel so hard it squeaked. Bingo. He took the bait. Now she could reel him in.
- What was I supposed to do? You were already doing a fine job of that yourself. Tell me, who would’ve believed you? You built hallucinations and tried to move us both in. Sorry I didn’t follow you into the illusion then — and I’m still not buying a ticket now. What did your doctor say?
- That it was all a manifestation of my
- Exactly! — She cried, triumphant — piloting both the car and now, finally, her — You worked with a professional. For years. And he brought you back to reality. No pills now. No
supervision. You’re free-range, baby.
- You know how that doctor ended up? Is that really the kind of -professional- you want to quote? That was your line once, remember? — Erich’s voice went cold and heavy.
- Doesn’t matter. He helped you. That means the method The road matters more than the driver.
- That sounds like one of your Maiji Kuiper’s bumper sticker
Louise smirked. Relaxed her shoulders. Game, set, match. He was caught. Now she could switch tracks — from therapeutic confrontation to marketing pitch.
- So… will you take his offer? You clearly impressed a very powerful One who can make things happen. I think you should give it serious thought. Don’t say no just to prove a point.
Erich gave a slow nod. It wasn’t clear if he agreed — or just acknowledged the noise around him. The rest of the drive stretched out in familiar silence.
A prison for her. A sanctuary for him.