Charcoal, Part 2

Charcoal (Part 2 of 2)
an4@anon.lelnet.com    

'If only she smoked like Mom did. Admit it Dad- before you and Mom broke up 
and you started dating Melinda, you thought smoking was attractive and cool 
and you never would have had a problem with me smoking, right ? You love 
watching Leah smoke, don't you ?'
    I had him. It was a strange moment. I don't think I'd ever really called 
my Dad out before, and I saw at least two emotions on his face. Anger at 
having been outmaneuvered, and embarrassment tinged with the excitement of 
allowing something slightly naughty about yourself. I was interested to see 
what would win out- Dad can be the most ornery bastard sometimes.
    'Wouldn't it be a little weird if I did ?'
    'Dad,' I said, taking the last draw off that wonderful cigarette, 'I'm 
a smoker, remember ? I wouldn't smoke in public if I thought it made me less 
attractive. Hell, two of things I enjoy most about smoking besides the way it 
makes me feel are watching myself smoke and watching guys watch me smoke. I 
get a lot of very positive attention because of my smoking. I just saw a 
survey the other day- thirty-one percent of the population smokes and another 
eleven percent smoke occasionally. That's forty percent of the population. I 
think smoking is an huge turn-on for a lot of people.'
    'You're lucky. You've picked up your Mom's way of smoking. The way you 
hold the cigarette, the way you exhale, how you always keep your cigarette 
trimmed and the way you move it around. Not everyone is that good at it.'
    It was my turn to blush- although he's right. I taught myself how to do 
those things because I think it's important.
    'Leah smokes the same way. I've seen her outside when I stop down to 
visit you at the office. She and I were standing outside one day last month- 
that day we had lunch. I smoked with her before I went upstairs and I noticed 
that she's very- very- good at it. You're lucky.'
    Now he frowned. He tapped ash from his cigar- it's much harder to work a 
cigar than a cigarette, but he does it well- thought about what I was saying 
and then shook his head in negation.
    'I'd be lucky if Melinda smoked- and she did it right. Although I 
suppose she would. She does everything well.'
    'Like fucking ?' I said. I immediately felt sorry for the remark. I'd 
let myself get too comfortable. It wasn't meant to be mean, but it sure 
sounded mean.
    'Like fucking,' Dad said. 'She doesn't just make love. I prefer women 
who know how to really fuck- your mother-'
    'Too much info, Dad,' I said, cutting him off. He didn't seem to mind. 
Instead, he lit my next cigarette for me.
    'What if I told you that I could guarantee that Melinda will be smoking 
by Christmas ?'
    He smiled. 'It'll never happen. She smoked in college and she says 
she'll never go back to it.'
    'You've asked her ?'
    'No. But when we start talking about you, she always brings up how she 
knows why you smoke and that doesn't excuse it. She made me swear not to tell 
you she used to smoke.'
    'She's afraid I'll talking into lighting up again, isn't she ?' I asked.
    'No. It's just, well, she likes to be in control. She thinks you'll 
respect her less.'
    I laughed. 'Respect is not what I feel for her most of the time, Dad. I 
know that pisses you off-'
    He blew smoke into the night air and put his arm around me. 'Sometimes I 
think you misunderstand. I would prefer you liked her, but I told her from 
day one that parenting you was going to be out of the question. I just don't 
like it when you fight. You see yourself as an equal- she sees you as a 
child.'
    I heaved my shoulders but let him go on.
    'I don't. You're a woman- a young woman who needs to learn a few things, 
but that's no different than any other young woman your age.'
    What he said meant a lot to me.
    'By Christmas, I promise.'
    He hugged me. 'If she starts smoking, will the two of you finally start 
to get along ?'
    I wrapped the first two fingers of my free hand together. 'We'll be like 
this, or I'll let you back out on getting me a car for my birthday.'
    'That's a no-lose scenario for me,' he chuckled. We went on smoking and 
talking and laughing. It was a great night.

    Witching is easy. Leg work isn't. I won't bore you with all the details, 
but I decided to do something a little bit evil to Dad to enhance my plans. 
I'm a damn good artist and witch, but I wasn't making the kind of progress 
with Melinda I had with Dad, so I decided to tip the scales a little. Brenda 
Mason is in my class at school, and when she mentioned that she might not be 
getting a new BMW for Christmas because her Dad was considering remodeling 
his place, I had the opening I needed. I mentioned that Melinda was very 
good- and very reasonable. that was all Brenda needed to hear. She took that 
straight back to her Dad. I won't tell you how I arranged a lunchtime meeting 
or how I made sure it would a day that Leah and Dad were lunching there or 
how Melinda failed to mention what she was doing that day.
    A girl needs her secrets.
    Obviously, I wanted Melinda to see Leah with Dad. 
    His cigar smoking was out in the open. Melinda hadn't liked that, and 
she'd liked his insistence that I be allowed to smoke in my room even less, 
but in the end-
    I guess she really does love Dad.
    So pardon me while I slip into some third person narrative for a moment.

    Melinda came home after the meeting. She had the job if she wanted it. 
That was her real skill. Oh, she had an eye for design and the ability to 
bring in material at a lower bid price than anyone else in the city. That's 
what it was really about. Price competitively, act enthusiastic, make them 
feel like you were their best friend in the world, and they dispensed with 
bidding the job out. Having a full set of working plans draw up at no cost 
didn't hurt, either.
    Fuck the job.
    He hadn't seen her, but she'd seen him all right. Him and Leah. No 
wonder he'd started smoking again. If she had been him and the way to spend 
time with Leah was by taking up cigars again- that was a no brainer.
    They weren't having an affair. She was sure of it. There was that awkward 
tension in their movements that people who want to fuck but know better have. 
That almost touch, the laughs that died half-finished. they wanted each 
other, but in an intellectual way that would never reach fruition unless 
something outside of their situation changed.
    She didn't feel any better about it for knowing all that. 
    Melinda had watched them unseen for almost ten minutes and there was no 
satisfaction in knowing they weren't fucking. That they wanted to, both of 
them.   
    Work had been tough lately. They were behind schedule on two jobs and 
three more were coming in and she shouldn't have been out hustling up more, 
but that was what you had to do. Take the work while the economy was good, 
keep moving. And then, every day, growing worse like an unscratchable itch, 
was something she'd never thought she'd face again.
    She was dying to start smoking again.
    It made no sense. She was annoyed at Ronn for taking up his stupid cigars 
and incensed that she was forced to openly condone Melissa's smoking. That 
she herself now had the itch-
    Madness.
    After taking an hour long soak in the tub, she decided to clean upstairs. 
She'd basically stopped cleaning Melissa's room when she'd starting smoking 
in it, and despite the fact that girl was responsible for keeping downstairs 
clean- her only chore- she didn't seem to much care for taking it one step 
farther and policing her own area.
    Today, she found herself drawn to the smoky room. She had taken the 
vacuum out of the hall closet but she realised the whole cleaning thing was 
just a pretense. She wanted to stand in this room and smell the smokiness of 
it. 
    She couldn't get Leah out of her damn head.
    There was a pair of jeans lying half under the bed.
    'Sloppy.'
    She bent down, pulled the pants, and something came with them. The leg 
under the bed had been resting on top of some drawings. Charcoal and paper, 
one of Melissa's favourite materials. She was a damn good artist, and Melinda 
enjoyed looking at her work.
    But what she saw-
    There were dozens of them. She got down on hands and knees and pulled 
them all out from under the bed. Each drawing was dating, and had arcane 
symbols drawn on them. The most recent one was dating today, and it was a 
beautiful piece- of her smoking a cigarette. There were about forty of them. 
Beneath were similar works, but they were of of Ronn smoking cigars- the last 
one was dated 31 October. Just two days before he told her he'd started again-
    It was was insane, of course, but it all made sense. Just then, the door 
opened downstairs. She considered shoving them back under the bed-
    
    But of course she didn't. I came in the house and she came walking down 
the stairs, holding the drawing dated 12 December. The last one in that 
series. The last one of those I ever did, thank you very much.
    I know if I were her, I would never have believed what I was seeing. 
You're talking about witchcraft. If I didn't do it, I'd never believe it, I 
can tell you that. She just looked at me with this hurt kind of puppy dog 
look on her face and asked me why. I have to give her credit for not yelling, 
and not screaming, and not doing any of the other fucked up things adults do 
when they are royally pissed off, but she was a little pathetic.
    'Why ?'
    I gave her the laundry list. I didn't try to deny what I'd done or 
justify it. I just gave her the reasons. Why it better for me, first of all. 
I will admit to avoiding the revenge factor- I did it because you pissed me 
off isn't a friend winner. I went on to Dad and she interrupted me after I'd 
briefly explained that I thought he was attracted to women who smoked.
    'Like Leah ?'
    I felt bad now about doing that to Dad, but my reasoning was sound 
enough. Melinda had that threatened sound in her voice I'd wanted to hear. 
And I knew that one way or another Dad would work his way clear of that 
little difficulty. Yes, she looked threatened, and threatened equals 
desperate. Of course, I acted as though I knew nothing. There were no 
drawings of Dad with anyone but Melinda. I know my own power, and what to 
fuck with and what to leave alone.
    'Leah ? Oh, that new lawyer. Yeah, like her.'
    Then I gave her the reasons why it would be good for her.
    'He told you ?' she said, incredulous.
    'Yes, he told me. I'm his daughter. We're pretty close.'
    'And you share something I don't.'
    'Something you could, if you wanted to.' I took out my cigarettes and 
lit one. At this point, I didn't think she'd have a cow. Generally, I never 
ventured out of my room with a lit cigarette, but this was the break point, 
the all or nothing moment where either she was going to crack or I was going 
to be going to Mom's for the rest of my life.
    'I can't believe that you did this to me. I can't even believe such a 
thing is possible.'
    Then she caught me off-guard. She started to cry.
    'You must hate me-'
    Ego is a strange thing. I accept mine. This was about me. What I did 
might have been manipulative and shallow, but it was about me. Not about her. 
It might be revenge, but that's still a self-involved motive. But she saw 
this as being all about her. And real hate, full-fledged hate- well, I don't 
think she's capable of even inspiring that. I can't say that I've never 
hated her of a moment, but the occasional emotion is different than hating.
    I didn't go to her. My revenge would be her coming to me.
    'No.' I blew smoke into the space between us and as she looked into my 
eyes to see if I were telling the truth.
    I could see the hunger in her eyes.
    'I don't hate you. But we haven't gotten along that well, have we ?'
    'All because I don't like you smoking ?'
    I thought about that. 'It's an example of us having nothing in common. I 
mean, from my point of view, I got this adult dropped into my life way after 
I was up for breaking a new one in. And thought you were marrying into a 
family, like I was going to be a kid to your adult.'
    'That's enough analysis for me,' she said. Melinda can be blunt and this 
was one of those times.'
    'So, can you take this away, or do I just have to give in before the 
itching inside my head drives me insane ?'
    I answered her by handing her my cigarette and she took it and 
demonstrated very clearly that she knew just what to do with it.

    We still have our bad days, and before you know it, I'll be out of the 
house and living in a dorm somewhere away from here. But I think I can make 
it through the next nine months now. Dad's happier, Melinda's finally happy 
period, and I'm sitting in the living right now, happily smoking in peace 
with Melinda in the next room. I guess she didn't tell Dad. Right after she 
took that first cigarette from me, she let a fire in the fireplace and burned 
all those drawings- well, except the last one. I don't know what she did with 
it, but I haven't seen it since.
    Right now I'm working on a drawing of Dad handing me keys to my new car. 
I'll let you know how it turns out.

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