Aberrant: 2011 - Balance of Loss and Gain

[z-Matteus ir'Starn]

"What has been lost was never possible to keep in the first place."
~Laura Teresa Marquez

Mitzi hummed softly as she walked through the upstairs of her house, a laundry basket in her hands. Her kids were normally quite good about making sure that their clothes landed in the hamper, but they weren't perfect. Justin was the worst, despite being the oldest, or maybe because he was fifteen.

"You're an aggravation, son," Mitzi sighed when she looked in his room and found clothes all over his floor. "I just cleaned this up yesterday!" She also knew that most of the clothes would be clean; Justin had a bad habit of trying on shirts and rejecting them by tossing them on the ground. However, they were on the floor now, and Mitzi knew that she was going to clean them again anyway, because they'd been on the floor. It was a fault that she was so anal, though Numeer didn't mind; it aided her well in her wifely duties.

Giggling to herself, Mitzi wondered when he'd find the note she'd hidden in his briefcase. She occassionally left him a love note; he loved finding them unexpectedly, and she loved the smile on his dark face when he came home and kissed her for it.

Flipping her blonde hair back over her shoulder, Mitzi began to stuff Justin's clothing into the basket, half-focused on the delight of her husband while her more practical half ran down her list of duties for the day. Laundry and cleaning in the morning. Meet with Barb for lunch to discuss Tima's costume in the Winter Play. Pick up Delia and Dawson from school at three to take them to their piano lessons. Tima needs picked up from soccor practice at four; I need to call just before to make sure Justin's home ok. I wish he'd get involved in something extra-curricular; he needs some activities to get into Harvard. Maybe yearbook - he likes taking pictures-

Mitzi's line of thought was broken when she snatched up one of Justin's shirts and a magazine fell out. "What is- God, Justin! You're a slob!" she grumped as she picked up the magazine, glanced at the cover and tossed it on the bed.

She stopped a second later, frowning. Slowly, she walked over to the bed, turning her head, taking another long look at the cover. Two men in leather graced the cover; Mitzi's heart sank as she opened the magazine and took a look inside. She had to know, if this is what she thought it was. She flipped through the pages slowly, tears building in her eyes. The laundry basket slipped off her hip and her hand released it; Mitzi ignored it as it bounced over the floor, spilling dirty clothing across her floor. "Oh, Justin," she whispered just before she burst into sobs and fled his room.

* * *

Numeer's voice was not filling her with calm. Nothing was, not the two hours of crying, not her shower and not the knowledge that she had to meet Barb soon and pretend everything was fine. Her Justin, her baby wasn't perfect. "He won't marry a girl now, Numeer, he won't!" she cried into the phone, resting her head against the wall. She was sitting on the stairs, the sensation of wrapping her fingers around the banister comforting.

"Darling," her husband said, his voice soft but firm, "I'm sure that Justin has a reason for this. And even if he doesn't, even if he's gay, that's not the end of his life. It just means something different."

"I don't want different! I want my two daughter-in-laws, not one with three son-in-laws!" Mitzi cried. "I just want Justin to be the same."

"He is, my sunlight, he is," Numeer advised. "Have faith in our son."

"I just... how does this happen?" Mitzi asked, rubbing her eyes. She was going to look wretched for Barb, and the nosy bitch would want to know why.

"Usually, the genetics pass from the mother," Numeer said.

"Oh, god. It's my fault?" Mitzi asked, feeling her heart break more, somehow.

"No, no... please, Mitzi, I must get to class. Please calm yourself. Justin does not need you to be worked up when he gets home," Numeer sighed. "I love you. Please be calm so that you can a good mother for our son."

Miserable, Mitzi could only nod; there was nothing that she could think of that was a good argument against her husband.

[z-Matteus ir'Starn]

She tried. She really tired. She skipped her lunch with Barb because she couldn't just meet with her. Instead, she cleaned the house, did laundry and tried not to think. At two-thirty, she left to pick up the twins from school; she gave Tima a wave in passing as the five-year-old ran off to join her soccar team practice behind the school.

Delia and Dawson piled into the middle seat of the minivan. They talked to her; Mitzi replied in short sentences, unable to remember what they or she said later. A ten-minute drive put them at the piano teachers.

Normally, Mitzi would wait here, reading a book or working on a project for the PTO. Today, she found herself putting it back into drive, and heading to Justin's high school. She got there just after the bell rang, and pulled up, waiting. When she saw him, she eased forward and honked for her son.

His black hair shone in the sun as he laughed at whatever the boy next to him said. Mitzi's stomach tightened as she watched him, flashing back to the magazine and wondering if that boy was like the ones she'd seen in the magazine. Her son's dark skin, paler than his father's, darker than her's, was compliemented by his red shirt. He always looks so nice, she thought, and then realized that he did look incredibly nice when compared to his classmates.

For some reason, that thought made her want to cry.

"Mom?" His query pulled her out of her fugue, and Mitzi managed a smile.

"Hi, I thought I'd pick you up from school," she said, hitting the unlock button on her door.

Justin looked skeptical, but he climbed in, tossing his backpack to the floor between his feet and waving to his friend. "Do I have to ride with you while you pick up the others?" he asked, snapping his seatbelt.

"Yes, I'm afraid so... but I wanted you guys all with me," Mitzi said.

"Why?" Justin said, looking at her. "Are you getting Dad too? Are we going out for dinner?"

"I... we could," Mitzi said, faltering as she always did when she was faced with a quandry.

Justin watched her for a while; Mitzi tried to focus on her drive. "Mom, what's going on?" he finally asked, his dark eyes just as probing as his father's.

Mitzi squirmed. She wasn't as smart as her husband, and her children had taken their father's intelligence. That intelligence shone in her son's eyes now. But where Numeer would hvae pressed her, Justin just looked out the window, letting his mother be.

Dawson and Delia were surprised to see Justin, but they didn't remark on it. Instead, they started talking about the inconsquential information. Justin joined them, in his 'cooler-than-cool' teenage way, but Mitzi remained silent. The twins didn't notice, but Justin kept throwing looks at her.

As they pulled up to the school and Tima got in, Mitzi's phone rang. "Mitzi, Justin is not home," Numeer said, worry coloring his deep voice.

"I know, he's with me," Mitzi admitted.

Numeer sighed, a deep, rushing noise of anxiety. "Is this about what we discussed earlier?"

"No, I just... wanted to pick him up," Mitzi said, manuevering around a corner and knowing that she sounded completely stupid.

"Mitzi," Numeer sighed, his accent and the exasperation in his voice drawing her name out into a five-second word. "This is not what we agreed to do."

"I know," Mitzi sighed. This was an exchange they had done many times. "I just..."

"I know," her husband answered. "Come home. We will talk."

"The kids are asking to go out-"

"I have ordered pizza," he cut her off. "Please come home."

[z-Matteus ir'Starn]

The fireworks started within three minutes of going home. Justin had gone up the stairs; Mitzi felt her anxiety rise as she heard him pounding up the stairs. She glanced at Numeer, but her husband was silently transferring the pizza from the box and moving it to a tray. Following his example - always a safe gamble for Mitzi - she began to toss the salad together.

Her tongs began to slow as she heard feet on the stairs pounding back down. "Were you in my room?" Justin snapped, coming to a vibrating halt next to his mother. "That's my room!"

"That's our room," Numeer said calmly, turning with the pizza balanced before him. "Take your seat; dinner is ready. We'll talk after dinner."

"No, I'm not hungry."

Mitzi gaped at her oldest child, shocked that he'd said 'no' to his father. He'd never done that before.

"You will sit at the table," Numeer said, and there was the slightest edge of heat in his voice. "You don't have to eat, but you will sit at the table. And you will apologize for the tone of voice you used on your mother."

Justin had never looked more like his father when he said, "No, I won't."

Numeer thrust the pizza at Mitzi so fast she nearly tipped it on the floor. Grabbing his son, Numeer forced him into the dining room and into a chair; looming over the boy, he hissed, "You don't have to respect me in your heart. But you will do as I say, Justin."

Mitzi followed, and watched frozen from the door, her eyes wide as she watched a power struggle in her home. She'd never like watching Numeer administer discipline, and this was no exception. Then things got worse.

Justin did something; Mitzi couldn't see what, but it sent Numeer falling to the side. Justin leapt away from his father, who landed on his hands and knees on the floor, yelping with pain. "I'm not, and you can't make me!" he shouted before turning and running out of the room.

Mitzi was torn for a second, frozen by the scene before her. Justin had disobeyed minorly, but not like this. Pizza still in hand, she approached her husband, who was picking himself up. "Numeer, are you-" The front door slammed loudly, and Mitzi felt tears threaten as she realized that had been the sound of Justin running out of the house.

"What is wrong with that boy?" Numeer snapped, his voice angry. He dropped into his chair for a moment, then stood up and moved toward the garage.

"Where are you going?" Mitzi said, still holding the pizza stupidly.

"Stay here. I am going to retrieve my son," Numeer said, pausing at the door to glance back at her. "Feed the other children, and call me immediately if he returns." Then he was gone, too, leaving her to deal with the aftermath.

[z-Matteus ir'Starn]

“So see, Nina? Everything is messed up,” Mitzi sighed into the phone.

On the other end of the line, her best friend in the world was clearly cleaning up after dinner; Mitzi could hear her banging the pots and pans noisily. She could see her red-haired friend in her kitchen, the phone pinched between her head and her shoulder, her hands busy cleaning. “How’d the twins and Tima take it?”

Mitzi sighed. “They heard something, but by the time they came downstairs, it was over. And they seemed concerned about their brother, but not upset.”

“How edited was the version you gave them?” Nina asked, her wry smirk clear over the phone.

“Very,” Mitzi admitted, running her hands through her hair. A glance outside only made her more anxious; it was getting late in the day. Lights flashed across the front of her house, and the grumble of the garage door opened sounded through the walls. “Nina, Numeer is home. I’ll call you back in a bit.”

Mitzi waited in the kitchen for her husband and son, but the only person who came in the door was Numeer. “Where’s Justin?”

“I could not find him,” Numeer said, and his voice was rough with something she almost never heard from him: defeat. He sat down, and pressed his long fingers to his face.

Mitzi moved to sit next to him, putting her arms around him. “We’ll find him,” she murmured. “It’s ok, honey.”

“No, it’s not,” he whispered. “I have… failed.” The word came out thick and choked; Numeer didn’t take personal failure easily. “You, our son, my other children… I should have been able to find him.”

The phone rang, and Mitzi glanced at the id. It was Nina again, and she almost didn’t answer, but it was Nina. “Nini, it’s a bad time-“

“Mitz, he’s here. Justin; he’s in the park across the street from my house, talking to a boy about his age,” Nina cut her off quickly.

“The one with the blue jungle gym?”

“Yes,” Nina said. “You know, I can keep an eye on him. I know Numeer will want to rush down, but maybe you… guys…”

“Nina?” Mitzi asked, feeling her stomach drop.

“Some novas just showed up,” Nina said softly. “They’re not talking to the boys; they’re more interested in another guy there.” She was quiet for a moment, then Nina said, “Oh, god. They’re going to fight. I’m going to get Jus-“

The phone went dead with a squawk, and Mitzi jumped, her heart pounding. “My sunshine? What’s wrong?”

“Justin,” she said, and grabbed for his hand. “I know where he is! We have to hurry.”

“But-“

“No, now!” she cried, dragging him to his feet and toward the garage. “I don’t have time to argue with you; Justin may die.”

They ran.