The next night, Frobisher went out and got drunk. Alfer Centurie, inadvertently he says, broke his $30,000 telescope. Lucifer Christoferson got fired from the Mexican food restaurant. And Sasifraz, dear Sasifraz, started playing rough with me.
* * * * * * *
“J, you’ve been bad.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your punishment time is nearly here,” Sasifraz pronounced.
I knew what he meant. Time could not go on for long without a punishment. All my life, I had trusted in my father to bring about consistent punishment. He had left a few months before, and I knew I could no longer rely on him. After punishment was always a sense of forgiveness. It didn’t last too long, but it was the only time I ever felt Good inside.
* * * * * * *
The woman part of J that Frobisher had been seeing was gone now. That part having vanished when J began spending all her time with Sasifraz. Frobisher was hurt that she had so little energy to focus on him. He was angry that Sasifraz would use J in a way he had used others.
Frobisher was not in the habit of confronting Sasifraz, though. So, he spent his spare time drinking instead.
* * * * * * *
It wasn’t that he broke it exactly. It was more like several fuses blew and some wires shorted. Alfer Centurie used the time to notice that his dreams were broken. There was no point in wasting this down time when he could feel self pity.
Basically, he spent several days like that until he pulled himself out of it and fixed his damn telescope. After all, he had built it, he thought to himself. He could do anything he put his mind to.
* * * * * * *
Our friend Lucifer, after some irritating time spent grumbling about, decided to go on a hitchhiking trip. He figured things couldn’t get much worse. Taking vacations when you’re unemployed is really the best time for a trip.
He packed up a small amount of things, took care of his bills out of some savings he had tucked away and headed south where presumably at least it was warmer.
* * * * * * *
Without punishment, the Bad I felt only grew worse. I looked to Sasifraz as the only source of help I had. With the passing of time, the Bad deepened into something that was harder to conceive of banishing. Depressed and sick inside, I turned to Sasifraz.
“What can I do? I feel as only death will help.”
“It would,” he responded in his customarily helpful way.
I turned over in my mind the different options with regard to death. They are quite familiar to us all but to a thirteen year old many seemed unattainable. We needn’t go into the entire train of thought. It turns out that razor blades and wrist cutting seemed to be the most easily obtainable method for me. Once having gotten a razor blade in my possession, the next item of business was deciding when. With this decision also came the issue of whether or not I could actually do it. Again, Sasifraz was a source of inspiration.
“Do you think I can really do it? You know, if I pick the Right Time, what if I can’t go through with it?”
“It’d be a pretty poor showing on your part.”
“What should I do?”
“Try it.”
Thunder sounded in my ears. “What?”
“Try it,” Sasifraz crooned. “Try it, now. Just a little cut so you know if you can do it or not.”
This was an entirely novel idea to me. The idea had potential. Doing it NOW. A chance to do something about the Bad. “Should I really?”
“Yes, I’ll help you. Get the razor blade and some toilet paper.”
I followed his instructions. He told me to cut myself at the inside of my elbow so no one would see it. I held the razor blade tentatively. He told me to press gently into the skin and hold it there.
I held my breath, heart pounding in my ears. “NOW,” he said, and I drew the blade across my skin. At first, there was nothing. Then little droplets of blood came out. “Very good.” I blotted it with toilet tissue.
I felt better. After long years of beatings with a belt, I knew punishment when I felt it. “Do it again,” Sasifraz advised, “just to make sure.”
I placed the blade a second time and held it. Sasifraz shouted, “NOW,” when the time was right. I now had a second bleeding cut and did it twice more before we were done.
* * * * * * *
I felt Good. When I woke up in the morning, I felt Better. I felt better than I had in weeks, in months. I had found the answer. I had the power to get rid of the Bad all by myself. I controlled it. For several days, the Bad was at abeyance. I had meant to find if I could cut my wrists and here I had discovered something entirely different.
In all too short a time, the cuts healed. I started to feel the presence of the Bad again. Startled, I recognized it. Sasifraz concurred. I’d have to do it again. Soon.