My Son Max
I want to tell you about my son Max. Unlike some of my other children, Max never became a household name. There was nothing special about him. He was an ordinary boy. His one big problem was his mother Malama. When Max was born, Malama wanted to put him up for adoption. We didn’t see eye to eye. I told her it was out of the question. In fact, I was shocked that she could suggest such a thing. Giving up my own child hadn’t even crossed my mind. I knew raising a son would be tough, but I also knew that wth a little love, and a little hope, we could somehow sweat it out. Malama however didn’t care about children. She only cared about herself. She told me that if I wanted to raise Max it was ok with her as long as I did all the work. I agreed. What else could I do? Max was my son. I loved him.
When Max was still a baby there were a lot of ups and downs. We were in the hole and were having a lot of trouble making ends meet. Malama was always complaining. She had wanted to marry someone that was made of money. She told me that the only reason she married me was because my grandfather was rich. She was only going through the motions as a wife. She was really only waiting for my grandfather to die so she could get the money and then get a divorce. We were always fighting. I would tell her to please not raise her voice while Max was sleeping, but she would laugh, do another shot of Jack Daniels and say, “What of it?” She didn’t care about Max at all. She only cared about herself.
As time went by, Malama really hit bottom. The drinking became more serious and she started to do drugs. She told me over and over again that she wanted to live on her own and was only waiting for my grandfather to die. We would fight all the time, almost never really making up, except occasionally when she was sober. She was becoming more and more crazy. She would walk around the house with a knife in her hand saying, “Max, Mama wants to hug you.” I was on edge all the time because I was afraid she would hurt my son.
All of my friends told me that I should get a divorce but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. My best friend Alice, a big shot who had made a killing buying real estate in the suburbs of Taipei, told me over and over again that I had to do something.
“This is getting out of hand,” she used to say. “Your wife is ruining your life. Your business is never going to get off the ground because you spend all of your time worrying about her. Even Max is suffering. Malama’s influence is rubbing off on her. When I went to visit her last week, Max showed me a dead cat he had killed with a chain saw and he said, “Cat die. I like dead cat.” This just isn’t a normal thing for a three year old boy to say.”
I knew she was right. But what could I do? I couldn’t afford a psychologist. I decided to just wait and see and hope things got better.
Then Malama was arrested for drug dealing, I was devastated but also a little relieved. Max needed to have a better mother than Malama. I decided not to bail Malama out of jail. I found a lawyer and filed for divorce. I called the jail, found out that visiting hours were every hour on the hour, and went to see her. I told her it was over. She didn’t show any emotion. She just looked at me with a blank look in her eyes and smiled.
I knew Max needed a mother to stop him from becoming the monster that his mother was. When I found a bottle of gin under his bed, I started looking really hard. I had to get married before it was too late. I started dating. Finding a good woman wasn’t easy. Most available women were either over-the-hill or too beautiful for me to trust them. I thought one woman was perfect until I found out that she had a big mouth. Another woman had a dark side. She looked normal but when I looked in her purse, I saw a dead rat with lipstick on it’s lips. Another woman always went by the book. Dating her felt like joining the army. Another woman who was an actress seemed ok until her play got a thumbs down from the critics. Then she started drinking and reminded me too much of Malama.
I was getting desperate. I needed to find Max a mother soon. I figured that at the worst, if it didn’t work out, I could always get another divorce and try again. One night I decided to stay home as I was running a temperature. Then on second thought I decided to go out. I had to keep trying. That night was my lucky night. I found the perfect woman. Her name was Malina. She had just moved into town because the IBM headquarters was hiring some new blood. She was on the level and we hit it off as soon as we met. She loved Max. We dated for three months and then decided to get married. We set the wedding date and Malina moved in.
Max loved Malina and she was a great influence on him. I noticed an immediate change. Max stopped drinking and killing small animals. He stopped doing strange things and started acting like a normal child again. Finally things were working out well for me.
But good things never last. A few weeks before the wedding I took Max to the laundromat. Max helped me load the dirty laundry into the huge washing machine. I put the detergent in, and then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a beautiful woman. She was watching me. When I turned to look, she winked. For a second I forgot all about Malina. I felt like a magnet. I just couldn’t resist. I closed the washing machine door and started the wash cycle. Then I walked over to the mysterious woman. I just wanted to meet her. She looked kind of familiar.
“Hi, I’m Eric, what’s your name?” I asked.
“My name’s Muzza,” she said. “I’m single and I’ve been looking for a man now for a couple of weeks but I never thought I’d find anyone like you at a laundromat. Do you believe in love at first sight?”
“Yes, I do. I feel like I’ve met you somewhere before. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I live just down the block. Would you like to come to my apartment for some coffee. We can get to know each other there.” I almost said yes but then I remembered Malina. Max needed her. I couldn’t just run away with another M woman. I had to think about Max and what was best for him.
“Sorry, but I’m engaged to be married,” I said. “I’m tempted but I can’t.”
Suddenly I heard a strange pounding noise coming from the washing machine. I looked and saw Max inside the machine! He was pounding on the glass with a terrified expression on his face! Max was in trouble!
“Hey don’t worry about him, he’s just having fun,” said Muzza. “Kiss me. We can have some fun too.” Muzza kissed me. I thought, “OK, just one quick kiss and then I will go and save Max.” But once I started kissing Muzza, I never wanted it to stop.
“It will take too long to go to my apartment,” said Muzza. “Why don’t we just go into the bathroom over there?”
“Good idea,” I said. I followed Muzza into the bathroom with a big smile.
One hour later I came out of the bathroom and remembered Max. I had completely forgotten him. Oh my God! Oh no! My son! He was still in the washing machine! I ran to the machine and opened the door. But it was too late! Max was dead!
I felt terrible. It was all my fault. I started to cry.
“Don’t cry honey, sometimes mistakes happen,” said Muzza.
“I’m a lousy father.”
“Yes, but you’re a great lover. Let’s go to my apartment now.”
Muzza took me to her apartment. She was really supportive. She helped me to forget my sadness. But of course it’s impossible to forget everything. Whenever I wash my clothes, I think about my son Max. Max! I loved you!
