Confounded: Part II - 15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15--==Kit’s POV==--

He played for about an hour and the longer I listened, well … if what he was playing was what he was feeling, I began to feel sorry for him. Each song he played had a sensitive, almost breakable quality to it.

Whenever I have to deal with something, I talk about it. Talk, talk, talk. I can’t keep it bottled up or I’ll go nuts. But a guy like Tom who, in my opinion, was one hell of an emotionally stunted guy; I guess he didn’t talk because talking about feelings is not a guy thing. We’re supposed to be tough. Dad had always taught me that there was nothing wrong with it, talking, or to even cry, but I knew some guys out there who sniffed at it, a few of my friends among them. But they all had their outlets, I guess. So this was Tom’s, huh?

As outlets go, I’ve definitely heard worse. It was actually quite beautiful to hear; he was pretty awesome at it, really. Without any training? Wow, if I didn’t know any better, I’d almost say he was sensitive. Maybe he was and just buried it under a load of bullshit? Hmm.

**********

Some of the songs that he’d played sounded familiar and so later that night, I began a search for them. It took a while before I found out that all the stuff that Tom had played was from a musician named Mike Oldfield. I didn’t know him or his music; it’s not my genre, but I downloaded several of them and put them on while I studied some of the contracts dad had copied onto my laptop.

They’d been playing for a while when I suddenly noticed, or rather felt, that I was being watched. When I turned, I saw Tom leaning against the doorsill, his head cocked sideways, listening. I felt a bit guilty and sent him a grin.

“Sorry. I heard you play and I liked it so I downloaded some of them. I’ll turn it off.”

“No, that’s okay,” he said. He cleared his throat; days of not talking had made his voice sound hoarse and raspy again. “You like Oldfield?”

“I don’t really know him; it’s not my usual genre,” I admitted. “Wanna come in?”
He hesitated for a second; then he came in and I watched as he started to looked around.

“Like my padded cell?” I asked, not entirely able to keep the sarcasm from my voice.
He raised an eyebrow; then he pulled up a corner of his mouth.

“It’s less offensive to the senses then I expected.”

I had the choice of either be offended and go over that whole conversation again or let it go. I decided to do the latter; I didn’t feel like fighting. Besides, it seemed that Taylan had been right about some of it; he’d come out of his room and spoke again.

“So you’re speaking to us again?”
He blinked a few times; then he nodded.

“Sure.”

“They won’t lift the grounding, if that’s what you’re going for, you know…”
He raised his chin and I saw a glimmer of defiance in his eyes; then it disappeared.

“I know.”
Nosing around my room some more, he looked at some books, my DVD collection. Then he sat on my bed and let himself fall backward and closed his eyes.
“Could you turn that up a bit?”

I added some volume and, as I turned back, I saw Taylan standing in the doorway, a look of surprise on his face; he was carrying some clean laundry. Quickly raising a finger to his lips, he nodded at his nephew and made a talking gesture with his hand, an eyebrow raised questioningly. I nodded. Then he retreated, as silently as he’d come, pulling the door closed.

Not really knowing what to do now, I returned to studying the contract again; it was the last one and the hardest to figure out in terms of legal lingo. I made notes as I progressed through the file, pausing at times to look over my shoulder to see if Tom was still there. He didn’t move an inch; he was just listening.
Biting my lip, I sought for another mp3 because the ones I had downloaded were almost done playing. I didn’t have much of the genre but maybe he’d like…adding another file to the queue, I waited until the first notes of Alanis Morissette’s ‘Uninvited’ started playing.

“Good.”
Okay. No problem, I had more from her.

I went back to reading and my notes and at times changed some of the music. Sometimes he’d say ‘no’, or ‘fine’ or ‘fuck off’ but he didn’t move.

Then, about an hour later, he suddenly startled me half to death when he crept up behind me and spoke, close to my ear.

“What are you reading?”
I closed my eyes for a moment, my heart pounding from the scare, and he snickered.
“Sorry.”

“It’s a contract. Something from work I need to look over.”

“Ah,” he said, a little scornfully. “Work. You take that stuff pretty seriously, don’t you?”
I frowned.

“Yes. It’s important.”

“To you or your dad?”

“Me. And I don’t need you to be a jackass about it, so if that’s what you’re...”
He raised his hands and didn’t say another word.
“Thank you. Why don’t you just…go over there again,” I said, nodding at my bed, “and shut up? Seems to work best.”

Right at that moment, Taylan knocked and opened the door.

“Kit, do you…oh…Hello Tom.”
Nicely acted. Tom seemed to freeze up for a few seconds. Then he nodded.

“Uncle T.”

“You boys want something to drink?”

“How about a beer,” Tom said.
Yeah, right!

“Nice try; try again.”

“Soda?”
Taylan nodded and then turned his attention to me.

“And you?”

“Glass of milk.”
Tom shuddered visibly and made a puking sound.

“Want some cookies to go with that?” he asked, sarcastically.

“Sure,” I said, grinning when he shuddered again.

“Bah, I can’t watch that; I’ll be in my room.”
I frowned.

“You don’t have to leave…”

“Yeah, I do, when the homely scenes are overdosing on me.”

“He’s kidding, Tom,” Taylan said. “Kit never eats cookies. We don’t even have them in the house.”

“Ahuh,” I said. “As a matter of fact, I’m about finished so I’m going for a run.”
I turned to Tom.
“Wanna come?”
He shook his head and went for the door.

“Grounded, remember? Can’t leave the house, if I recall correctly, not even for a swim. Besides, my idea of the great outdoors is rolling my car-window down on my way to the movies.”
Then he slipped past Tay, or tried to; he didn’t get very far because Tay blocked his way out.

“Are you about done trying to make me feel like a tyrant? How old are you; six? Yes, you’re grounded but you know full well what I meant when I said you couldn’t leave the house; I meant you couldn’t visit your friends or go out on your own. I didn’t mean you couldn’t take a swim or go with Kit. Clear?”
For about a second or two I thought Tom had gone back to not talking.

“Clear,” he then said. “Can I go now?”

Taylan looked him straight in the eye for a long few seconds. Tom didn’t flinch or look away. Then Tay nodded and he disappeared in the hallway.

Tay sighed and shook his head.

“Dammit,” he uttered. “He’s very, very good at making someone feel like crap.”