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Flat tire on Salvation Mountain

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

A dish served cold


It is hard to talk about the subject of revenge, one of the most base of all human instincts. I have been wanting to get a subject off of my chest for weeks, and now reality has strangely caused events to push the matter to the fore.

I have written on the matter once before, pulled it from the blog after a few brief hours. I know that some of you read it. By necessity, names can not be used. It is not wise to tread on the tales of dragons or tigers, an admonition of both Confucius and Tolkein.

Many of you are aware of both the particulars and the principals in this tale. I must ask that you keep silent and remain discrete. It was a family matter. I take a rather Sicilian attitude towards people wronging my loved ones. If I had any personal integrity the matter would have been settled with utmost finality long ago. But I didn't have the strength to sacrifice my life for a mistake of my father's. I can tell you though, I thought long and hard.

My father had made a fatal error. He had got into bed with somebody that he didn't have the money to sue. Broke his own cardinal rule. He had been wined and dined. His new best friend took him to New York, Paris, Italy. Had custom tailored suits made for him. Then picked his pocket clean as a whistle, found a way to steal $12,000,000.00 from the family coffers, basically all that we had.

I remember standing on the courthouse steps, we had won a unanimous jury trial but missed punitive damages by one juror, who felt that the scam was not premeditated, but thought up as they laid out the terms of the deal on the cocktail napkin on the bar. Had a momentary vision of dribbling his head on the steps like a basketball. I had warned him about harming my family and also alerted my father to the prospect of being took. But to no avail.

Of course it was this apex predator's stock in trade, how certain sociopathic people operate, nothing like a nasty kill for sport. He certainly didn't need the money.

Our payoff barely covered the million and a half in attorney's fees. Said he could fight us forever and unfortunately he had the money to do it. We were all out in the street, forced to figure out a way to reinvent ourselves at a late stage in our collective lives. Really pushed Dad into rapid decline.

I thought of about a million ways to do him in, I won't bore you. Made operational plans in case my cancer ever went terminal. And then there was the matter of the curse. Only one I have ever cast and I don't feel real good about it. Like Corwin of Amber, we never really know what can happen until they leave your lips and then they have a way of burning up everybody and everything, including the invoker. I'm certainly not proud of it today.

I recognize the corrosive nature of hatred. I apologize. But you must understand, this was a matter of family honor.

I know that it wasn't my mistake that caused the larceny. Dad should have been more careful. For my sanity I had to give up all thoughts of retribution and just trust in the universe to somehow, someday grant this evil man his just desserts. But I can not deny that the oath was once uttered.

I have to say that I was shocked this morning to read about his son's drug overdose. None of this was ever the kid's fault.