The Witching Snakes pt 12

Paul and Agatha go on a picnic with Paul's sister and brother-in-law. Everyone seems sad. Strangers wear Zubas.

Read Part 11

A week later, Maggie stomped into the living room, knocking over bottles and crushing pizza boxes. She declared that she had laughed at the passage in that World Literature textbook because it only said that Gilgamesh was a very old poem. This was funny. Someone wrote it in an academic book and not a Freshman Comp paper. Paul tried to nod, but Agatha was lying on him. Paul was wearing only his green robe.

Then came that March picnic. Paul's sister was in town and Paul wanted to impress her. He did not invite her to the apartment; he believed it beautiful, with elegant lines and stylish lamps and yet the pizza boxes and insects would bother her. He didn't want to banish the take-out food or cigar and marijuana smell. Agatha had taken to holding him too close for him to get up and clean. Maggie fluttered around their lives, finding lovers on Mondays and Saint Paul artist colonies on Wednesdays.

For the picnic, Paul put on his best sweater. He owed Mary and Rick an apology, or at very least a pleasant drama-free afternoon. Tommy and Shelly weren't talking to him. He had called them three days before. Tommy asked about the Vikings. After a minute, he said that he had to go. Paul wanted to say that he loved his brother. Paul spent five minutes crying to the dial tone.

Mary was more forgiving. Mary knew Paul. She could still muster affection. Mary had encouraged him to play the saxophone and came to school recitals when Mom was in the hospital and Dad couldn't make it. She even put dollars in his case during his busker days. He tried to remember Mary's generosity instead of her disappointed looks, the sighs and the outright insults.

On the way to Como Park, Agatha didn't speak. Paul tried to include her but Rick and Mary were chatting. Sports and the weather. Agatha remained silent.