The Impotent God

The Impotent God

The smooth stone of the terrace warmed her bare feet. She watched the bay fade from brilliant aquamarine under afternoon sun to a velvet field of darkness. A gorgeous young man with bronze skin and surfer muscles lit the gas-flame tiki torches. Theresa barely noticed any of it.

Her thoughts looped: "Why? What is next?"

Over the course of the afternoon, various relatives tried to engage her. It was hard work hearing their effusive congratulations.

"What a great stroke of luck for Judy!"

"What a fantastic match for her!"

"After all these year, I thought it would never happen!"

"She sure looked happy up there."

"This Howard seems like a really cool guy."

Howard

. She could practically smell the insincerity on the guy, and he was anything but 'cool'. She saw the way he looked at her mom. Judy deserved better than that smug look of conquest. Yes, he had money. Yes, he was a distinguished professional at a major pharmaceutical company. Yes, he seemed respectful, and polite. But... Theresa knew better. She had seen behind that facade.

Luke stepped up with a plate of assorted hors d'oeurves. Luke, Howard's son with the chiseled figure.

"Hey, you been out here a while, thought you might be hungry."

"I'm not."

"I know." Luke put the plate aside. "Listen, I know you're not happy about this. It's a big change for your relationship with your mom, of course. You two have been a team for twenty years, right? And now it's all going to change? Well, my dad is really a good guy, and all he wants is to bring people closer."

Luke was a distressingly handsome guy. He was a year younger than her, 23. Just finishing up his masters in psychology. But he still lived at home. Then again, so did she. She shrugged.

"He might not be the most interesting guy, I get that. Your mom is an artist, you probably imagined a painter or a musician or something would be more her style, but-"

"No," Theresa interrupted. "There have been painters and musicians. And actors. And a dancer. And an acrobat. No, I just wanted someone who loved her. She deserves to be loved."

Luke opened his mouth and shut it again. He leaned against the railing and looked out into the darkness. Stars glimmered overhead, but there was no moon to reflect off the sea. They could hear the crash of the surf below.

Theresa watched him in her peripheral vision. He looked like he was trying to find something to say. There was a conflict in that smooth, handsome face.

Then his lips tightened. He shrugged the conflict away.

"Good chat," he said blandly and strolled away.

Like father, like son

. Theresa felt his presence recede. There was something creepy about both of them. But, at least there was

something

in Luke. He hadn't mouthed the usual wedding-day garbage. He hadn't tried to sugarcoat his father. Did that make it better? Or worse.

* * *

Luke was not entirely wrong: there

was

a new distance between Theresa and her mother, and Theresa did not like it.

They had been moving in with Howard and Luke in a somewhat gradual fashion. Judy had taken all her clothes over, as if on extended vacation, while Theresa lived in the old apartment, sorting things into packing boxes and staffing the week-long curbside yard sale. Each day they would make a couple of trips in the old Subaru, bringing more boxes to Howard's house.

Theresa had a thousand things jamming her mind, things she wanted to say, possible

yell

at her mother. But they had all been said. It was too late. Because she didn't want to hear her mother natter on about Howard this and Howard that, she had to say something.

To her own surprise, what popped out was: "I don't think I'm going to move in."

"What? What? You

have

to! We can't keep the old apartment, it's too big."

"No Mom, I'll get my own place. I can afford it. I have been saving. My stipend is intended for that, and I can get a part time job while I finish off my dissertation. It's probably time."

Judy's voice got a little panicky. "But you

can't

! This is what I have been dreaming of, all of us living together, a real family!"

This was the Judy that Theresa did not know. This didn't

sound

like her mom.

"When have you ever dreamed that? Ever?

Mom

, listen to yourself. You have been encouraging me to be more independent since I turned eighteen. What about the story of how

you

left home to go to art school, not even telling your parents where you went?"

"That was different. A different time. We were more free in those days, it's true. But just for a while, just til everything settles down. I

need

you, Teréza!"

There was a different note in her mother's voice, and not just pulling out the accented version of her name.

"Why do you need me, Mom? Everything is perfect for you now, isn't it?"

"We have lived on the edge for so long, Teréza. Would it kill you to enjoy a comfortable house, with a real kitchen, and a good tv, and a nice soft bed with a mattress that doesn't sag in the middle? Would it kill you? Do you need to run off so fast?"

This was classic Mom. Barrel sideways instead of answering a question.

Theresa sighed. But they pulled up at Howard's house. Theresa had to admit it was a nice house. A simple but well tended lawn with a massive, gnarled old sycamore anchoring the corner of the front yard. The house itself was a distinctive blend of Victorian and craftsman, with simplicity of proportions but some gingerbread ornamentation at the porch and eaves.

Before they got out of the car, Theresa touched her mother's arm.

"We've always been honest, mom. The truth is, I don't really like them. I understand you do. I can't say I understand why. You never seemed like the kind of person to chase a big house or a career-oriented husband, but it's your business. Your choice. Mine is to leave. You were right before. It's overdue for me to find my own way in life, and this is just the prompt I need to get going. There's no debate. I'm not discussing it. I'll start looking tomorrow."

There was another shimmering flash of panic in her mother's face, but it passed.

She adopted an expression of resignation that Theresa did not trust. Her mother never gave in that easily. But the words had been spoken, and her mother brought a fake smile to the occasion.

"Ok, dear. If there's any trouble finding a place, you know you have a room here."

Luke was already walking out to help unload the trunk.

* * *

Howard was an entirely average looking man. The grey at his temples could be called 'distinguished' but the rest of him failed to back up the word. He had a slightly high-pitched voice that grated on Theresa's ears. He tended to fidget with his fingers, drumming the arm of his chair, or fussing with his clothes, or worst of all, unconsciously plucking at his own ear hairs. He was about 5'9", the kind of plump that is neither fat, nor strong, nor jovial. Just kind of soft. The plumpness was if anything more noticeable in his face: he had a rounded marshmallow texture with small close-set eyes and an unfortunate nose that might have been cute in some women.

The one feature Theresa had to concede: his cooking was excellent. They were sharing a marinated salmon, lightly grilled, with some fingerling potato's with an amazing herbal seasoning and some fresh asparagus, both juicy and lightly crisped.

"Judy tells me you have decided to find your own place."

Howard was also a scientist of some sort, and despite the grating voice, always spoke in clean, measured tones. In fact it was this particular adherence to logical and correct statements that grated on Theresa most of all. She felt like it was studied, and that somewhere beneath it was a rage wanting to happen. But all that ever made it out were reasonable and polite words.

"I think it's time for me. This is a big change for all of us, and probably just the motivation I needed to finally do the right thing."

"What motivation is that?"

Theresa felt like there was a trap in the words, and she glossed lightly forward: "If I have to move, then I might as well move in the right direction for my life. I should have my doctorate within the year, and will be looking for a position somewhere. It seems like the right time to demonstrate self-sufficiency."

"Pragmatically, the opposite is true," Howard said. "A one year lease taken from December 1st will carry you into the next school year, which you may be starting as a professor somewhere quite distant from here. Accordingly, it would make sense

not

to take a new lease prior to knowing the disposition of your residential requirements for September."

Luke cut in, "Dad, you know what she means. It's time to be on her own. I get it. I've said the same thing myself, and if I transfer to the University of Pennsylvania to work with Dr. Sanderson, then I'll do the same."

Theresa didn't love Luke coming to her defense. Before she could cut in, Howard continued.

"Fair point. Well said. However, it does look like we have a tenant to take over your mother's lease on the 21st, which is some unexpected good luck given the season. So, if you can land a December 1st lease, you will only have to spend the last week of November here."

"Have to?" At first Theresa thought her mother was taking offense at the phrase. "Of course not, she'd

love

to."

Which, of course, made her like the idea even less.

But the food was good, and she hadn't even started looking for a place yet, so Theresa shrugged noncommittally. "Sounds like a good option."

* * *

Theresa helped Luke clean up after dinner. She wanted to jump in the car and get back to the security of her own room, and nobody asked her to help with the clean up, but it just seemed like the right move.

She was drying while Luke washed out the pans.

"Dad always likes to use too many pans. He lays out all the ingredients, each in their own dish."

"Sounds very scientific."

Luke laughed. "Measured to the gram."

Then he turned the tables. "You know you're gorgeous. How come there's no significant other in your life?"

Theresa felt herself flush red. Was it embarrassment? Anger? Shame? She shut her mouth, dried off the saucepan she was holding and walked away.

"Hey wait, wait, was that insulting? I didn't mean to be insulting! Sometimes I'm awkward. That's why

I

am still single," he spoke quickly.

Theresa leaned on a counter across the spacious kitchen, more comfortable with the counter-island between them.

He went on: "And not that physical appearance has anything to do with being able to find a relationship, obviously. I guess I'm just surprised. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, you shouldn't. It's none of your business."

"Yeah, totally right. Sorry."

"I had a boyfriend in high school," she said, surprising herself. She didn't know why she was talking at all, but found herself continuing. "And another as an undergrad. They were good relationships. Healthy. But we went our different ways. I'm not in any rush right now. Not really looking. Too much going on at the moment."

"Oh, ok. Again, I'm sorry I intruded."

Theresa felt a strange tingling in her body, in the air. The coved ceiling of the kitchen, and it's brightly colored tile-mosaic counters. She had a slight out-of-body sensation, like someone else was speaking for her. She didn't like the feeling at all, and yet, it was strangely exciting.

"And you?"

Luke turned his head, as if to see if she was serious; as if to see if she was mocking him. And for a moment there was a strange expression. A smug grin that flickered past almost before it could register. Almost. Theresa felt a dark edge to that tingling sensation. Like she was standing in a high place, at the brink of a cliff, her palms and feet tingling.

"Oh," Luke said. "Similar, I guess. I have had some, I guess,

experimental

relationships. Learning experiences, of course. Fumbling around. Learning the important stuff."

"Important stuff?"

"Honesty. Communication. Integrity. Respect. I wouldn't say it all came perfectly naturally to me. My dad... not always the best role model. He's been single for a long time, and for a reason. But, I'm figuring it out. And so's he. Before he met your mom... a

lot

of therapy. It's why I am going into psychology myself. There's so much we don't know about ourselves. The true final frontier."

Theresa felt the edge of the cliff recede. It was as if she was getting her own body back.

"Yeah, therapy is good. If you find the right therapist. Good for you. For you both, I guess. Time for me to go, for tonight...

Good chat.

"

* * *

In fact, it was Howard who found her an apartment. She had been somewhat appalled at the rents. She hadn't realized even a small studio could go for so much now. Apparently their landlord had barely raised rent in a decade.

She was beginning to think she was going to need to work much more than a part time job, when Howard sent her a link to a rental in an old down-town unit that one of his coworkers owned, and was willing to rent at a discount.

She walked through the space and liked the vibe. It had a loft-like quality. An old brick building that might have been something semi-industrial sixty years ago, but had been residential for years. High windows looking out over a pedestrian-only street. Weekends would be noisy with club-goers, but otherwise, quiet enough and more open and airy than anything she had seen in her price range.

Howard even covered the deposit for her, which annoyed her a bit, since she had plenty in savings, but only a bit. She liked her savings.

"One thing I don't understand," she said to the property manager. "It looks clean and empty, why can't I move in now? Why wait until December?"

"There's some work that needs to be done. Electrical and plumbing. Just modernizing. We do it on every apartment now when it changes hands."

Theresa turned on the water in the sink. "Looks like it's flowing well. And these are new fixtures. What plumbing?"

"Ah, just need to replace the hot water heater. Each unit has its own. And some of the wiring is old, just needs to be checked out. Nothing to worry about."

Theresa shrugged. As they were leaving she said, "Oh, I think I left something, I'll catch up to you."

Ducking back into the apartment she yanked open the utility closet and checked the date on the water heater. It had been replaced two years prior, and indicated a lifetime of at least eight more years.

Why would a property manager lie about something like that.

She closed the door behind her.

"My glasses," she said, having pulled her readers out of her purse.

The property manager nodded absently.

Theresa thought about grilling the woman on the water heater, but couldn't quite find the spark to start the conflict.

* * *

"To Theresa's first night with us!"

Howard lifted his glass of Cabernet Franc and the others followed.

Theresa did not love the way her mom watched Howard raptly as he did so, nor the way both Howard and Luke looked at her. This week could not go fast enough!

The dinner, however,

was

spectacular. Portobellos stuffed with some kind of amazing cheesy filling, and a variation of Chicken Marsala but with a hint of spiciness to it that made the tongue tingle delightfully. A simple salad that was implausibly fresh, given the season.

The dinner conversation was pleasant and banal. Luke got Theresa talking about her research: the use of A.I. to decipher animal languages. Her own research was specifically with regard to corvid languages: crows, ravens, and jays.

Luke was thick in coursework with neuroscience crossover, and discussed some of the interesting case studies of patience with specific neural damage and how that manifested in abnormal thought patterns.

Through it all, Howard watched with a strange neutrality, watching more than participating, but with a kind of complacency that Theresa found off putting. Worse, her mother kept glancing at Howard, almost as if anxious.

But nothing else strange happened, and after dinner, Theresa went to bed early. They were going to watch a movie, but the emotional exhaustion of leaving her nearly-life-long home just left her desirous of solitude and sleep.

But sleep did not come easily.

She could distantly hear the sound of the television and it's too-good sound system. It was like a distant rumble of thunder in a too-quiet forest. It was a normalcy that seemed out of place, in her life, in this place.

Moreover, she couldn't quite find the right mix of blankets. The room wasn't too hot, exactly, but somehow she felt too hot. And it made her restless. She felt an irritation that was almost a physical sensation.

It has to be this place. I just don't like being here. Woo-woo Jason would have said: "The energy is bad." Or something. Remember Jason?

Theresa didn't like remembering Jason. They had parted on good terms, but after many arguments. She just couldn't stand the gullibility of his beliefs. "Energy." Astrology. Chakras. Bullshit. Bullshit. And he had that whole vibe of being a great lover, and he wasn't bad... for a few minutes.

Why was she thinking about Jason? Why was she thinking about those few minutes?

Finally, as a last resort, Theresa fished around the bottom of one of her suitcases, which she had no intention of unpacking, to find her

old reliable

.

Even that didn't work. Oh, Old Reliable worked well enough, but

she

wasn't working at all. She could get herself to the edge and then some stupid thought would jump in and she'd have to start over.

Finally she threw it back in her suitcase, and went to open the window. She just wanted to feel real air on her skin for a minute.

The window wouldn't open. It was old, and had been painted shut at some point.

Triply exhausted, she threw herself into bed and just lay there, waiting.

At some point the movie ended. She heard the sound of footsteps. Howard's room was at the other end of the floor, but Luke was across from her. She heard him go in his room.

She tried not to imagine him stripping down for bed. He was nothing like his father. Taller, strong jaw, high cheekbones, thick dark hair, large grey eyes.

Your step-brother? You're thinking about your

step-brother

?

She didn't like the sound of that phrase either. "Step-brother." How could she have a brother, step- or otherwise. That made no sense.

She imagined her mother, in bed with Howard, across the house.

No. No. No.

She had to shut her mind against that horrible image.

Eventually, with the house silent, sleep came.

* * *

It was Thanksgiving week, so the lab was largely empty.

The current state of the work was somewhat mundane: lots of reviewing different simulations, testing out different patterns against the ground-truth of recorded values. They could generate trillions of sound variations, but the experiments with real birds had to be somewhat carefully designed, so a lot of the work was done via iterative simulation with adversarial networks, competing models attempting to disprove each other.

Coffee helped, but she found herself uncharacteristically groggy through the day, and even had a little cat nap in the public lounge.

The only other person around was Meghan, who was specifically working with ravens, and considered herself (and her ravens) to be superior to all the other research. Normally, Theresa didn't much care for Meghan, but even Meghan's abrasive (probably slightly autistic) manner seemed a bit of a relief.