Crimes and Punishments

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Twenty two

'In a morbid condition of the brain, dreams often have a singular actuality, vividness, and extraordinary semblance of reality.'

'No,' she screamed as she threw the box across the room. 'No, no, no!' Tears were in full force this time as she tried to figure out why Conor was doing this to her. Both John and Senan stood up, but Senan was the first to come to her aid.

'What's wrong, Roisin,' he questioned. He wasn't aware of the lost baby. Nobody in the room was except John, who walked over to the box and saw the baby booties. He'd read the note and was horrid at the possibility that Conor was terrorising her like this. John knew he wasn't supposed to, but he walked over to Roisin anyway and kneeled in front of her.

'Petal, losing the baby wasn't your fault,' John said and as soon as Russell was about to say something, Roisin replied.

'You know he killed my baby, John. I tried to protect it, but he kept kicking and kicking.'

'What baby,' Russell asked. 'What baby, Roisin?' A tear ran down his cheek. He knew his daughter was hiding something from him.

'I'm sorry, papa, he took my baby. Conor took my baby.' Then, she broke down in John's arms. 'My baby is gone! My baby doesn't want me. Nobody wants me!' He could feel his shirt become wet from her tears. This was all he wanted to do, was to embrace her. Russell didn't stop the scene before him, but instead let him take her to her room. John nodded before he lifted her up and took her upstairs.

Roisin squeezed harder and eventually calmed down. They arrived in her bedroom and he closed the door behind him with his foot. He placed her on the bed and she looked at her clock for a moment, before she noticed that John hadn't left.

'She lied,' he blurted out. 'Aoife lied about me sleeping with her. I never did. She kept coming on to me and I pushed her away. I don't want her, Roisin. I love you.'

'Please stop, John. I can't...I don't want to hear anything right now. Please leave.' He did as she wished and saw Russell standing outside in the hallway.

'Did you get her pregnant, too?'

'No, sir. The pregnancy happened when she was married to Conor.' Russell nodded his head, sadly and then, handed him a present.

'I believe my daughter got this for you. I think you should go to bed. Everyone has left already and some of us have gone to bed or getting ready to do so. You can open the rest tomorrow. Goodnight, son.' John nodded his head and went to his room.

After he undressed and took a shower, he slipped into some sweatpants and looked at the box sitting on the bed. It was small and so he didn't think it was a book of any kind. He grabbed it, sat on his bed and opened it.

He looked at it as he was very confused why she gave it to him. He wasn't religious in the slightest and he wasn't a traveler. He took out the maroon string with the Saint Christopher's pendant on it and placed it around his neck. Now, he knew he had something from her.

He started to read the listening book again and it seemed he couldn't stop finding passages that related to his situation...page 57:

'It is indeed a language rooted in a delusion of omnipotence and such that it inevitably creates the risk of detonations or Babel-like conditions. And yet the philosophical disquiet that constantly revives is might be expressed in Canetti's words:

'Because for us the collective powers are urgently back again, it is inconceivable that an intellectual man does not think about his relationship to them. No matter how hard he may strain to elude their power, something in him acknowledges them. He feels 'guilty' about his resistance.'