There is no way for me to unhear what I have just heard. Looks like there is no way of escaping certain Shadows.
Serenity quietly turned around and walked along the hospital corridor towards the exit from the hospital building. The day was sunny. The City was vibrant with life. So many people around. Busy going about their everyday lives. Each with their own joys, each with their own worries, each with their own stories.
The world structure built in my consciousness has been carefully curated, greatly simplified, relatively pristine and timeless. Timeless because potential harbingers of change are kept at bay more or less deliberately. I believe inner and outer peace go hand in hand with simplicity.
Exposure to complexity is perceived as a threat to such a self-contained world.
Then the disquieting thought has passed through her mind.
What if the allegedly unreasonable behavior exhibited by both of my parents is directed at protecting the delicate boundaries of their carefully curated narratives regarding the structure of the world. This structure if false is at risk of collapsing upon the encounter with its True Shadow. Is this something that they are afraid of the most? Is this something that I am afraid of the most? What if the essence of the problem is not about the uncontrollable jealousy at all? No, it can't be. It has to be about jealousy. Besides, my case is different. My world has already collapsed in its entirety not once, not twice but four times.
At this point she remembered the words of the Disembodied Spirit Roaming the World regarding her family's generational curse, false timelines and false selves.
What if my carefully curated, greatly simplified, relatively pristine and timeless world is the said False Self?.. I must destroy this thought before it destroys me. Too much to bear for me all this. I would like to go home and sleep.
Upon arrival to the social housing estate Serenity has noticed that the repair works were still in progress. The excavator continued making rumbling noise while digging trenches on the East side of the estate building grounds.
One cannot sleep in such a noise.
Despite being very tired she went for a walk in the park for a couple of hours. Until the working day is over and the evening quietude sets in.
Serenity's father found himself lying face down on the ground covered by the fallen autumn leaves. His smartphone was lying next to him. Battery dead. He slowly managed to sit up due to the old age.
Then he noticed that the orange plastic slippers he was wearing were profusely soiled with liquid excreta of some wild animal. The cultural fair was over and the crowds have scattered by now.
I was so focused on my surveillance mission that I haven't noticed what's beneath my feet. Had I agreed to become a member of the prestigious local Hunting Club upon receiving their invitation years ago I would be able to tell exactly what animal's sh*t I've been standing in for all this time. But I declined the invitation. Each organization has their rules and regulations and I love my freedom too much. Must have inherited this characteristic from my own father who was an even bigger freedom lover. He has evaporated from my life like a Greek god after a night with an innocent maiden that is my own mother. Better not go there. At least I have learned from personal experience that wild animals can have diarrhea like humans.
He got up by holding onto a tree trunk.
Time to go home.
Serenity's father headed off to his garage first where he changed from animal excreta soiled orange plastic slippers into his work boots. He placed the soiled orange plastic slippers in a trash bag and took it to a public plastic trash container around the corner of the street for recycling.
Serenity's father told his wife that he just had a very enjoyable walk in the park and was not hungry for dinner. Has filled a cup of tea and retired to his room for the evening.
Photo of a young man of outstanding looks in a fashionable suit and shoes, wearing a remarkable time piece on his wrist has been gracing his desk.
"These days it's easier to achieve immortality," Serenity's father mumbled to himself while glancing at the picture of his youth.
He connected his phone to a charger and while waiting for it to charge snoozed off in his armchair.
Half an hour later he woke up refreshed and opened smartphone's photo gallery. There he found many strange pictures of some old and balding man. There was a picture of worn out fingertips of the said old man. In another picture there was a part of his face with an ear next to the image of two crows sitting on a branch of a pine tree. In the third, part of the old man's pants were captured next to the image of a fair visitor's dog on a leash. There was also a close up of the old man's nostrils with nose hair and a drooling toothless mouth taking up the entire picture frame.
Could be a prize winning shot in a gallery exhibition.
He used to love going to the art exhibitions in his bachelor days. But that seems like ages ago now. Many strangely focused pictures and not a single one of his wife among them. He clearly remembers focusing the camera lens on her and her colleague by the fire. Perhaps he forgot to press the capture button due to the emotional pressure of the moment?.. But what can explain the array of pictures of some miserable and pitiful old man present on his smartphone? Could it be that mother's paramour only looks like a young man from afar and actually is an old man from a close up?
Something is wrong. Either with the instructions provided by the mother's daughter on how to take pictures or my new smartphone has already started malfunctioning.
On her way from the park Serenity notices an incoming call from her father.
"Hello, dad! What's up? Overwhelmed by impressions from the cultural fair and eager to share them with me?"
"Very funny. Jokes aside. I think that my new smartphone has broken down. Could you, please, come by and take it to a repair shop for me tomorrow. The guarantee will cover the repair cost."
"Alright, dad. See you tomorrow then."
The excavator's engine is off. There are extensive trenches on the North, East and West sides of the social housing estate grounds. The Lady Estate Manager keeps impatiently waiting for somebody at the entrance to the building.
"Serenity, there you are. I've been waiting for you to return."
"Yes, Estate Manager. I'm here now. What is it that you wanted from me?"
"As you can see the repair hasn't been achieved yet and the costs of repair keep escalating; mounting by the hour. All of us social housing estate residents will have to incur the increasing share of repair costs including you unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Unless you could ask your retired father for help. My late husband was your father's subordinate during the time of construction of our social housing estate and he had nothing but the good words to say about how responsible your father was as a construction site manager at the time. Your father would work unpaid overtime, often do the work in the place of his subordinates who suffered from liquor dependency. Maybe he could help us now to fix the water supply problem to our estate by helping identify the location of the ruptured pipe?"
"I understand. I will ask him tonight. Have a good evening."
"Good evening."
My smartphone is only partially broken. I can issue and receive calls. I wonder why my daughter is calling me at such a late hour after we have agreed to meet tomorrow.
"Hello daughter, what is your urgency this time?"
"Good evening, dad. I'm calling you in order to ask whether you could help our social housing estate fix the water pipe problem? Since you were the social housing estate construction site manager during its construction."
"Since... since according to your age number you should be an adult by now, I will be honest with you. The social housing estate construction took place in uncertain times of change and transformation. My superiors would draft construction plans and estimate the construction cost based on the old rules with no regards to the new laws of geology and the exorbitant cost of the new construction materials. The old construction materials were either scarce or no longer available at all. As an implementation engineer, I put in countless hours of unpaid labor attempting to bridge the said gap in the planning vs reality. While at the same time covering the difference in the cost of construction materials from my personal account. I expected to please my superiors with my ingenuity in the face of adversity and eventually get promoted. But I got demoted instead after all my personal sacrifice. And this is precisely why I no longer wish to have anything to do with the subject of the social housing estate!"
"Dad, I will be honest with you as well. The rumour has been circulating among mother's acquaintances that you got demoted due to a fire caused by the unsupervised subordinates of yours at the construction site. It's been a long time ago. You might have forgotten the details in the sequence of events from that time. Mother's acquaintances recall your car that had been parked in the shade of the shrubs near mother's workplace for an entire afternoon on the day of the fire at the construction site. They say you were seeking for the proof of her suspected dalliances at work."
Beep... Beep... Beep...