Inheritance

Inheritance

By Dustin Anderson

                Cameron came home from his depressing trip four states away. In the backseat was his “reward” for going through the mental acrobatics that come from spending time with his relatives. An unmarked cardboard box with a family heirloom hidden away from the world. He sighed as he looked at it and got out of his car. He stretched the ache of driving from the airport out of his bones and grabbed the box from the back seat. He made his way in to see his family who has been waiting on his return for three days. The lock of the door clicks and he is immediately greeted by their Irish setter, who was probably thinking that he would never see his father again. Cameron sets the box down as the dog made his usual sniffs around Cameron’s crotch, which lead to his customary leap into a standing position to lick his father’s face.

“Ok Drake, Ok. I’m glad to see you too.” Cameron smiled through the slobbering. “Roger! Babe, I’m home!” He yelled for his husband while getting their dog under control. Much to Cameron’s surprise he is greeted by their son instead, who moves the dog from covering Cameron in affection in order to get his turn. The small boy jumped into his father’s arms and squeezed with all of his might. Cameron hugged him back and chuckled “Jeez Chris, you’re going to squeeze the life out of me.” He gets the boy off of him, then got down to his level. “Now why aren’t you at school?” He said with a stern look on his face. Cameron looked down knowing that he was probably going to get in trouble.

“Well Dad, you’ve never been gone this long I wanted to make sure I got to see you.”

Cameron rolled his eyes, but he was moved by the sentiment. “Where’s daddy?” He said with the same tone as he used with Chris before. Chris pointed outside with his face still pointed to the ground. Cameron tasseled Chris’ hair and kissed his forward. “I’m glad to see you, troublemaker.” His son looks from the ground to  meet his father’s eyes and smiles. Cameron stood up and grabbed his box with one arm, his son’s hand in the other. They made their way outside where he saw his husband working in their garden.

“Dad’s home, Daddy!” Chris yelled, and Cameron’s husband looked to him. Half happy to see him, half curious what brought him back so early.

“Hey Aaron, how are you?” Cameron said putting his box down, and meeting his partner’s embrace.

“I’m good, a little taken back to see you. I thought you wouldn’t be home for a few more hours.” Aaron said kissing Cameron’s cheek.

“I may have fibbed about my flight time to surprise you.” Cameron laughed. “Why isn’t Chris at school?”

“Well I didn’t see any harm in him missing one day to see you when you got home. I figured you would like to see the whole family after dealing with your relatives.”

“Good call.” Cameron sighed.

“Bad?”

“As expected. No one really talked to me and if I tried initiate a conversation they kept their responses to a few words and found an excuse to leave.”

“Oh. Well that’s not too bad.”

“I’m saving the worse stuff until we are away from little ears.”

“Ahh, understood.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of small hands ruffling through a cardboard box. Cameron turned and said “Excuse me Christopher. Did I say you could go through my box?”

The child looks down as he did before and said. “Sorry Dad.”

“What is it? His husband asked. Seeing a small arm poking out of the box.

“It’s an old heirloom passed down through my family for years.” He grabbed the arm of the mystery object and pulled it out of the box to reveal a marionette puppet. A disturbing looking old woman with a scowl on her face. She wore a red dress reminiscent of the Victorian age in England. She lied limp in Cameron’s arms and looked over the family with her dead eyes. “Her name is Francine.”

“Oh, how did you get that?” Aaron said with worry lacing his tone, slightly off put by the doll’s menacing look.

“My grandmother left it to me in her will.”

“Well that was nice of her. Maybe she gave it to you as a sign of acceptance from the grave.”

“Could be. Could be that she was worried my other family members would sell it. Could be that she remembers how much this thing scared me when I was little.”

Cameron looks at Chris to see him hiding behind Arron’s leg. “Looks like our son shares your fears.” Aaron said. Cameron got down to Chris’ level and made a show of setting the puppet inside the cardboard box again. Chris came out of hiding from behind his daddy’s leg as the doll disappears.

“Hey buddy,” Cameron said, putting his hand on Chris’ shoulder, “how about I put this thing in the closet and we go out to the park.” Chris vehemently shakes his head in approval and the trio go inside. While Chris and Aaron start getting ready, Cameron looked at the box one last time before putting it in their hallway closet. They all leave bringing Drake along so he can join in the fun. As the front door locks shut there is a loud bang that comes from inside the house. No one hears it. and the hallway closet opens shortly after.

The family came home from a long day at the park. Night had fallen and Cameron carried Chris in his arms through the threshold of the door. The two dads put their son to bed and the family dog stayed in Chris’ room for the night. They both kissed their son on the forehead and leave the door slightly ajar so Chris doesn’t get scared when he wakes up. The two went into their room and kiss heavily, finally being able to have a little adult time. They stripped their clothes and jumped into their bed, releasing the built up tension caused by being apart for three days. The pair sit in their post-coital reverie and talked about the things that they couldn’t talk about in front of their son.

“So what happened while you were with them?” Aaron said with a deep amount of concern peppering his voice.

“Same as always, deeply Catholic family ashamed of their gay son. Slinging around the word “fag” to make a show of how much they disapprove. Only difference is that this time their ringleader was dead.”

“Why even go, babe?”

“To see if there was anyone that could pull their head out of their ass long enough to call me family.”

“Come on. They have everyone brainwashed in that little fucking cult.”

“I know.” He sighed heavily. “Thank whatever small mercy gave us your family. I like that Chris can at least know one set of grandparents.”

“I’m sorry.” Aaron kissed his husband on the forehead and held him close to try helping in any way that he could.

Cameron smiled and said “It’s ok. I don’t need them. I created my own family.”

“Yes you did.” Aaron said compassionately. Cameron turned into his husband’s chest and the last thing he heard before sleep took hold was Aaron say “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The dark took over his eyes and he slipped into his dreams.

Cameron wasn’t asleep for two hours before he was woken up by a feeling of something wet hitting his head.

“Babe are you drooling?” Cameron said without opening his eyes. The liquid didn’t stop and it forced Cameron to turn the light on next to their bed. “Babe what is-“ Cameron was stopped, and the color was drained from his face as he looked at his husband stapled to their bed frame with a knife. The knife pierced through Aaron’s throat and had the family heirloom Cameron brought home hanging from the handle. The small wooden puppet looked at Cameron with dead eyes, a scowl permanently etched on her face, then opened her mouth.

“Hello Cameron.” The puppet took the knife out of Aaron and stuck it through Cameron’s throat. It took the knife and repeatedly stabbed Cameron saying “How dare you! We raised you better! You ungrateful sinner!” The last thing Cameron saw was a vision of the doll piercing his skin one last time before walking out of the couple’s room.  

Chris awoke to the smell of bacon filling the household. He excitedly left his room thinking that today was a special day. His dads never made bad food unless something good has happened. He sped off to the kitchen with Drake at his heels, and the pair are stopped by the sight greeting them. A puppet flipping a flapjack in the air, with a spatula that was almost the size of its whole body.

“Ahh, Chris!” It said, turning its head  completely around with the expression on its face remaining unchanged. “Have a seat.” Chris didn’t follow the command of the small puppet. He felt around on the counter behind him for something to defend himself with. He felt a tenderizing hammer under his fingertips and grabbed it. “SIT CHRISTOHPER!” The puppet yelled, and Chris sat down, hiding the hammer in his pants. The puppet carried the pan that was much larger than it to the table and put the pancakes on a plate sitting in front of Chris. She went back to get bacon and eggs from a few other pans. She then sat in front of Chris and motioned for him to eat. Chris shook his head and the doll smacked its hand against the table yelling “EAT!” Chris took up his fork and began to eat the eggs.

“Where are my dads?” Chris mumbled through chews.

The doll smacked the table once again “Do not talk with your mouth full!” Chris swallowed hard, “Though given the abominations that raised you I could imagine they never got around to teaching you manners.”

“Where are they?” Chris said with an empty mouth.

“Who dear?”

“My dads. Where are they?”

The doll smacked the table again “Do not call them that!”

“But that’s what they are. They are my dads. Where are they?”

Although the expression never changed on the puppets face Chris could tell his words angered it. “They aren’t going to be around.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean, dear Christopher, is that I will be taking care of you from now on.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m your grandmother Christopher. You never got a chance to meet me when I was alive, and I know that this must be very confusing but I am here to save you.”

“Save me?”

“Oh yes, what those two men were doing to you was entirely unacceptable.”

“What were they doing to me?”

“Trying to raise you in a house of sin. Tainting you. Making it so your innocence was lost.”

“But I’m fi-“ The doll smacked Chris before he could finish his sentence. “Do not talk back to your elders Christopher!” It yelled at him. That was enough of an excuse that Christopher needed he took the tenderizing hammer and brought it down hard on both of the puppets legs. The legs broke into splinters. The puppet wasn’t hurt but it did go off on a tangent of curses. “Damn you Christopher! Child of Satan! How dare you crush your grandmother’s legs!”

Christopher yelled at the puppet, “Where are my dads?!”

“I killed them for their crimes against nature and God almighty you little demon!” The color drained from Chris’ face and his body went limp. The puppet continued with its curses and started crawling towards Chris. He moved his arm like it had a mind of its own and brought the hammer down repeatedly. When he finally stopped the only thing remaining of the puppet were pieces of wood and a crack in the family table.  Chris sat awestruck, the world moved around him as he mourned his fathers. He sat for hours before calling the police. He could never bring himself to look at what had become of his fathers, and the police could never figure out what had happened to them.