Chapter 114:  Let’s Make A Deal

“Roxie!  Why haven’t your butt made it out to school yet!”  Harold scoffed his fifteen-year-old daughter.  “And, I swear you cut that calculus class again today, I’m permanently disowning you and forcing you to move in with your mother.”

“Dad, that constitutes cruel and unusual punishment.  I don’t want to live under the same roof with that woman no more than you do.”

“Then shape up, young lady, or you will be.  Now get out of here to school.  NOW!”

“Okay… okay… okay… I heard you the first time.”

Rosalind then picked up her backpack and hooked it to herself and left the dayroom, leaving her father and Brian there. 

Brian as usual was sitting at the tall windows looking out at New York City’s magnificence.

“Morning, Brian.  How are you doing?”  Harold greeted Brian, as he walked over to where he sat and he leaned up against one of the tall floor-length windows.

“Whatever,” Brian grunted.  “You’re blocking my view.”

“Hardly, there are windows all over this freakin’ place.  Off day already, Bri… it’s not even eight-thirty a.m. yet.  I’ve noticed that’s been the norm with you lately though.  What’s going on?”

Brian didn’t respond.

“Silent treatment, Brian.  That isn’t like you either.  I’d rather you curse me out instead.”

But Brian stayed silent.

“Change of pace needed… maybe?”  Harold then suggested.  “I know what would be a really nice change of pace for you?”

“Huh?  What’s that?”  Brian finally ended the long bout of silence.

“How about a trip to the plastic surgeon?  There’s one living in the building right here, whom I could get you an appointment with.”

“No.”

“Come on, Brian.  Why not?  I don’t understand.  It’s been just a little over two years and all this time you refused to get the reconstructive surgery.  But yet you call yourself Frankenstein, and you haven’t allowed anyone in all this time to ever put a mirror up to your face.  So, you don’t even know the extent of the damage.”

“But I do know,” Brian claimed.  “I know from the expressions on other people’s faces when they look at me.”

“And, if that bothers you, Brian, why don’t you do something about it?  Having reconstructive surgery to your face is a far cry from having a surgical procedure being performed on your brain.  What’s the problem, you won’t get the surgery done?”

“Harold.  It’s my face… not yours.”

“Ehhh,” Harold sighed.  “Actually there was a time I could kind of beg you the differ there, Brian.  Many people once mistaken your face for mines.”

“I think it was the other way around, Harold.  I used to be the famous one - remember?”

“You USED TO BE a lot of things that you aren’t anymore.”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever, Brian?  I don’t really think so, because I don’t believe it has to be this way.  You have a choice.”

“It is what it is, Harry.”

“No, it’s not!”

“Oh, and what makes you so damn sure, Harold!”

“Well, one thing I’m absolutely sure about, Brian, is that your face definitely doesn’t have to be like that.  You could have gotten it fixed within in weeks after your accident.  Instead, here you more than two year’s later - and I’m going to be the one to say it now.”

“Say what now?”

“You do look like Frankenstein.”

“Fuck you!”

“Hmm… hmmm. Sounds a little different when someone else calls you that in lieu of you calling yourself that all the time, Brian.  Doesn’t it?  Am I right, Frankenstein!”

“Asshole!  Damn you!”  Brian spat.

“No fuck you, Frankenstein, for going around looking the way you do.  In fact, I take that back.   You’re so ugly no one would want to fuck you.”

“You bastard!  You bastard!  I’ll…”

“You will do what, Brian, huh?  You going to kick my ass… slap me around… huh?  What are you going to do to me, Brian?”

Brian just heavily huffed and puffed and Harold hadn’t seen his cousin that angry since they were teens together and Brian and he used to fight each other. 

“Well, I’ll tell you what you are going to do, Brian.  You are NOT going to do shit.  You are completely worthless.”

“No, You’re the worthless motherfucker up in here, Harold!  That’s why you are still stuck riding a cab!  Here you are in New York City… the capitol of opportunity and yet you are a fall down failure.  I’m inside a wheelchair unable to move anything below my neck and bleeding at the skull, still I run a big, big, big conglomerate, while you, who still have all the equipment God gave your ass at birth, but still you remain a no-count pauper.  In my most debilitate state, I’m still more successful than you can ever dream of being!”

“We all are failures and winners in our own way, Brian.”

“I never fail, Harold, and you never win.”

“Bullshit, Brian.  I’ve won in at least a couple of areas, where you’ve failed miserably.”

“Oh, what is that!  Are you going to compare my paralysis to your being able to move around freely?  I didn’t bring this paralysis on myself, Harold.  So you can’t say I’m a loser in that aspect and you are a winner.  Cheap shot, man!”

“No, Brian.  I don’t have to start creatively making up shit or dipping inside a ten-gallon black hat pulling out irrelevant crap to get my point across.  I can make legitimate comparisons.  I’m a good father to my daughter Roxie and a good lover to my man Teddy.  But can you say the same when it comes to Justin and Gus.  You failed your husband and son miserably.”

“Don’t cry,” Harold demanded when he saw the warm and salty water developing in the corner of Brian’s eyes.  “But instead try doing something about it for a change.”

“What do you want me to do about it, damn it!  Harold!  I’m no use to Gus or Justin!  There’s nothing I can do for either of them in my state.”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, for once, Brian; and for starters, get the reconstructive surgery done, damn it.”

Harold then detached himself from the window and walked out of the room to give Brian time to digest all that he had said.

“Brian...”

“Roz?  What are you doing here?  I thought you left for school already?”

“No, not yet.  I still have some time.  I heard what my father said to you though.”  Roz walked up to Brian and gently ran her delicate fingers through her cousin’s silky hair comforting him.

“Don’t let what he said upset you,” Brian said to Rosalind.  “We both know how your father acts when he gets his period.”

“Actually, I know how you both act when you get your periods.  I’m the only one around here who doesn’t change when her period come on.  But is there anything I can do for you, Brian, before I leave for school?”

“No.  But there is something you can do for yourself, and at least would make both your father and me happy for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Start taking your damn ass to that fucking calc class.  It makes no sense that you fail any math course, considering you’re a mathematical wiz, Roz.”

“That’s the problem, Brian.  Elementary calculus isn’t the least bit challenging for me and the teacher in that class is so boring.”

“Then just go to class and breeze threw it, damn it.  If you fail, Roz, they’ll just make you keep taking it over and over until you do pass it.  Let’s pass the thing the first fucking time, so you can get out of there and move on with your life.”

“I didn’t realize it meant that much to you, Brian.  But now that I do…”

“What?”

“We can swap.”

“Swap what?”

“I promise not only to stop cutting calc class, but also to get an “A+”, if you promise to get the reconstructive surgery done on your face.  Deal, cuz… or what?”

“You little swindling, first class coning bitch.”  Brian called her.

“Is that a YES!”

“Yeah!  I guess that’s a FUCKING yes, Roz.”

“Yippee!  Hooray!  Oh, I’m so in love with you, Brian,” Roz accentuated as she smothered Brian’s face in kisses.

“I’m in love with you too, sweetheart,” Brian cheered up immensely just then.

“Roxie!”  Harold walked back into the room.  “Why are you still here!”