- HER ONLY JOKE -

For a long time now they’d been preparing for this moment. Preparing her clothes, her room. And also, money. All the money they’d need. Parris always believed that aunt Karine -his older sister, still kept some gold hidden somewhere. So, she had to give it up for the sake of “their girl”. And more than that, she had to give it up immediately, and give it to him and only him, so it’d be in safe hands.

“Everything! You’ve taken everything from me you vultures!” aunt Karine would then scream. “Everything! This damned family!” and she’d raise her hands as high as her hunchback would allow, so she could curse them one more time. Tears would then come out of her eyes, because they’d dared to remind her of the money. Of the gold.

Her late husband, Kavan, had once returned from all the way up the north, from Havra, with a chest full of head coins. Not a pouch. Not a bag. A full chest. A chest of pure gold. And the Scopics at once began tearing him apart. The then man quickly grew tired, they say he was honest as well, and became desperate. One day, he decisively approached the window and thew all the coins down the road, for the poor to pick up. He didn’t care anymore.

“He only wanted to get away from your constant fighting!” aunt Karine would scream. You killed him! - she’d say. That great man! That great oak! You chopped him down! And you are still going after his poor wife! Who has no one to protect her! And she’s in truth imprisoned here! And…

The half medic – half philosopher Parris could hardly be upset with all these accusations. They were truly beneath a man of his structure, and in all honesty, highly exaggerated. The point was to talk about the here and now. How he was the one currently taking care of her burden. A burden so heavy -it truly was, that may the Gods have mercy on him and take her up with them as soon as they could, if they could lift her.

“Lies! All lies!” aunt Karine would then yell. “I’m the one supporting you! With all the money you steal from my treasury in the temple! And may Riviel and Dolvet themselves strike you dead if you come by again!”

“Shush! Shush you crazy bitch!” he’d respond, visibly shaken. He’d then turn his head around to make sure no one had heard them. Because it was true. The main core of mis income was from the temple’s support to our town’s poorest. Every time the Despot announced a donation, he’d somehow end up with a very respectable sum in his pockets. Not for him, of course, but for his poor sister Karine, who was now a widow, his niece Lumina, who was unmarried, and had no support, and of course for Anitte, Viletta’s mother.

No one ever dared to object, or ask him how much he was taking from the treasury. Small giveaways to such respected members of our society were considered strictly confidential, with the blessings of his holiness. In return, Parris would sign the alarmingly disturbing papers they’d give him, no questions asked.

Aunt Karine, as the temple’s honorary treasurer, knew all these very well. And made sure to bring them up, and ask for her share of course, every time they fought, in order to shut Parris up. Anitte, the wife of their late youngest brother Riggis, would then try and calm them down, while uncle Efras with the paralyzed had, would delicately say exactly what was needed to flare them back up. His daughter, Lumina, would once again start sobbing loudly for the great abandonment her relatives had shown to “their girls”, her and Viletta. The only one who wouldn’t get involved in these fights was uncle Bazis. He was a special case. It was truly miraculous how he’d manage to, without ever having a single coin on him, always be completely drunk.

For years, Viletta was also involved, without ever been aware, or even there. The complete lack of shame, the death of logic, the constant lying, all the curses of the Scopic family had found in little Viletta the excuse they always craved.

The life and happiness of Viletta became everyone’s goal. Both in separate, and together, as a family. It was in her name they’d now have a sensible, and most importantly moral, high ground to accuse each other. To curse. To spit. And she had no idea.

Even once she’d returned, the war within the Scopic house never stopped. It was still going on, ruthless as ever. It was just done in silence. Behind closed doors, so “their girl” wouldn’t hear them. So she wouldn’t feel anything. They’d never let her go outside alone, who knows what somebody might tell her. One of them would always be by her side. Inside, if she dared move, if she was lost for mere moments, the entire house was shaken with fear.

She wasn’t dumb. She’d regularly notice them stop talking when she’d walk in a room. Trying to hide something in a hurry. Change their tone in front of her. And their lips would always seal, forming, just for her, an eternal smile.

This carefully prepared lie, wrapped around everything, was suffocating her. It was suffocating her from the very first day she had returned. Once home, she’d never go see anyone. Or go in their rooms. Or walk around the house. Or ask for anything -anything at all. She’d just smile back to everyone as well.

Most of the time she was in her room. At a chair, next to the window. There she would sit. Without crying, without reading. People passing by quickly spotted and identified her. This lone, female figure, looking from behind the glass. From the Scopics noble wreck.

The evenings would always bring an uncomfortable yet heavy atmosphere. For everyone. Like the end of a long, pointless march. One more day, gone.

“Is she in bed already?”

“Yeah, I think so…”

Everyone would then breathe a huge sigh of relief. And just to make sure, before themselves going to sleep, they’d pass from her room for a quick goodnight.

“Sleep well Viletta” uncle Parris would say in a soft voice, behind the half-open door.

“Goodnight” she’d respond.

“Go to sleep dear” uncle Bazis would say, a bit tipsy.

“Goodnight uncle”

“And don’t read secretly at nights, your eyes… Just don’t read. In general.”

“In general?”

“Only about the Gods”

“The Gods?”

“Goodnight my sweet little star!” aunt Karine would interrupt moments later, dragging uncle Bazis away with her, her body shaking a little bit.

“Goodnight auntie”

“Sleep tight” it was uncle Efras with the paralyzed hand. He’d always look her straight in the eyes, as if trying to decipher if she had found out anything or not.

Lumina would also come for a quick goodnight, pretending she was in a hurry.

“You too!” she’d respond as well, and start counting. One, two, three, how many more? Gods, they were so many…

“Viletta, time to sleep” her mother would finally say in a firm, commanding tone.

“Oh, good night mommy!” she’d say, and count once again, was it over?

She’d then blow the candle next to her and sit in the darkness, her eyes open.

“Go sleep already” she’d whisper herself. And a bitter smile would form on her lips.

The next day, she’d go to the children. Our town’s future. She had to take care of them, you see. To educate them, for a fee. This gave her income. Small, of course, but what could one do?

The children knew her. How she’d never get mad, no matter how noisy or ill-mannered they were. She’d never complain, or shout. Only sometimes, when they’d become really naughty, she’d cross her hands and tell them “Go sleep already”.

It was a joke. Their joke. Her joke.

Her only joke.

And the little demons would laugh, seemingly on command, when they’d hear it. And the room would then fill up with noise. Until the kids’ parent would knock on the door, demanding there be quiet. And she’d then turn to the kids and say once again “Go sleep already”.

In these moments, it was nice. In these moments, she was almost happy.

Back home however… Back home everything began revealing themselves to her. Bit by bit. It seemed so natural. A situation that existed in silent, would now continue in the open. As if silent it never was. The others didn’t bother with talking, or explaining anything. And she didn’t bother with asking, or appearing surprised.

Everything went on as if she’d always known. As if she was in on the lie from the beginning. Even more, as if this, and only this, was how things were supposed to be.

The Scopics fell like wild animals upon her small earnings. The only sure and stable income in the family. She made no attempt to get away. Gave them everything, thinking this would be best for both her and them. And yet, this became the reason for even greater fights. Even greater hate. Their lives were still circling around her, only this time, in reverse. The mad, hysterical love and care of the old times, was now asking for its payment. With even greater madness and hysteria.

Her mother Anitte, first above all else, categorically demanded she wouldn’t give a single demi to any of the others. Instead, she should give her money. Her and only her, so the two of them could take care of themselves.

Uncle Parris would then usually intervene and, in the name of the Gods, denounce the selfishness of his late brother’s bride. He’d then proclaim that he should be regarded -leader of the family as he was- as the only real “parent” of little Viletta.

Even more than him, aunt Karine, loudly proclaimed she had no demands from “their girl”. On top of that, since her brother was such a bloodthirsty parasite, and Viletta’s mother such a venomous snake, looking only to devour “their girl’s” income, she would go even further. Right here and now, she demanded from them, only them and not “the girl”, to repay her the value of the three golden rings she has sold, so they could afford to send little Viletta to Sipolis.

Her cousin, Lumina, would cry constantly about the cruelty of her relatives. Every night she would go to Viletta’s room, until she’d convince her to cry together.

Lumina’s father Efras, with the paralyzed hand, was perhaps the only one who never asked anything from her. He preferred to simply empty her pouch once in a while. Then he’d make some wild excuse, pinning the blame on someone else, and simply sit down, watch the fight, and have a lot of fun.

Uncle Bazis, last in line, the wise theologian, solved his issue by simply going directly to little Viletta. He explained he had no interest in her, or the family. In fact, he had no interest in this world in general. He considered himself to be an almost spiritual creature. Already living among the Gods he loved so dearly. The only thing he truly needed was some money to pay for his daily dose of wine -let’s say a few coins- which she could easily give him without much fuss.

In this way -and this was a great secret of his life he’d reveal only to her, because he loved her so much- he’d finally get rid of that bastard - he meant the gravedigger, with whom they’d unearth corpses at nights and strip them naked. That bastard would always keep most of what they’d find, and would barely give him anything!

This thing other girls in Riviella called home, seventeen-year-old Viletta saw crumbling down. Demolished before her eyes, alongside anything else one might associate with it. Relatives. Love. Compassion.

All fell apart amidst her family’s nonstop fighting. In time, she learned everything.

She learned about her father, whom mom would constantly praise for his great wisdom. Doctor Riggis Scopic had been revealed, long ago, as one of our town’s worst molesters. And this wasn’t a short list. Various priests, town officials, shopkeepers and other proper and respected fellow citizens were included. During his last years, it seems this passion of his had grabbed him so tight, the others barred him from ever visiting or receiving patients.

Kavan, the late, exemplary husband of aunt Karine, bringer of coins, had, it seemed, killed a man back at Havra. He might have not, but that’s what the others claimed.

Aunt Karine, during the time he’d been away, had apparently defiled her body with a little Dolvetian boy. This might not have happened either, but in the heat of arguments, they’d throw it at her.

Uncle Parris would still bring home his share of the Temple’s donations to the poor. Uncle Efran and his hand had been infected from a passion he had, even when his wife was alive, for the dirtiest whores. Other dark and scary rumours were surrounding Lumina.

Uncle Bazis could truly be called a human among these beasts. At least he had a heart. Even if it was split between the Gods, the wine and his hate for the gravedigger.

The Scopic dignity was truly sinking inside this swamp of degeneracy. And now she knew. About the mess at the Temple. The brothels. The cemetery. All the dishonesty happening around her.

Gods. Faith. Justice. Nobles, and their honourable superiority. All were falling down. Her whole world. The one she’d always known. The one that gave birth to her.