The Aviators

Family. It’s an interesting idea. What? Yes, to me a family is an idea. An ideal. I never really knew my family. The Dibenedetto clan is a closed door to me. I was a member for the first five years of my life. And then, except for keeping the family name, I was turfed out. So, I know you’re probably all wondering, what the hell happened?

Well, I’m still not sure what really happened, I was only five, okay? But, what I think it was about was that my parents had like, a hundred kids, and I was the youngest. Okay. They didn’t have a hundred kids, more like seven.

Anyway, they, being a good Catholic family, didn’t stop at two or three kids [all boys so far] because they don’t believe in contraceptives. Their sixth child they thought would be their last [Michelle my twin] but then I popped out after Michelle did. They got a huge shock as you can imagine.

I guess when I got to five they thought they couldn’t raise seven kids anymore so they handed me over to the state. Or to be more precise they took me out one day, and left me at the doorstep of the Huntington Beach Orphanage. Yeah, I know...seems like they didn’t care about me. But, I’m sure that’s not the case at all.

Of course, being five years old and extremely trusting, I know I believed they would come back for me. Of course that all changed when some stranger took me from the orphanage and sent me to the slave markets. That, I can tell you now, was the beginning of the worst period of my young life.

Don’t feel sorry for me though. I’m still here. I’m alive. I’m not even depressed about all of it really. There are people in much worse situations than me. I mean, hell...I have somewhere to live, clothes, food...everything a person needs to live.

Anywho, why am I even telling you all this? Well, there is a point. I’m really trying to segway into talking about my twin, Michelle. Because, as luck...or bad luck, would have it, Brian decided that bringing his girlfriend to Matt’s place this afternoon was a bright idea.

She’s sitting with the guys, Brian’s little white fluffy dog, Pinkly, curled on her lap. I wish I could join them, but no, I’m in the kitchen trying to figure out what kind of snacks and drinks they might want. Matt came in a moment ago to remind me to pay attention.

He’s still mad at me, and he still has my player in his back pocket. I can see the outline of it there against his ass. He’s out in the dining room with the guys discussing the songs they have so far. I can hear snippets of their conversation, but I’m not supposed to be listening in.

Anyway, I’m supposed to be telling you about Michelle right? Well, the thing is, there’s not much to say, because I don’t really know her. I remember being a little girl and playing dolls with her...and vying for our Mom’s attention...but that’s about it. And, oh...wearing matching outfits...and playing with our older brother’s...but it’s all a big blur really.

She avoids me whenever the guys come over to Matt’s...and Brian drags her along. She just sits with them and laughs at their jokes and plays with Bella [Matt’s Labrador, crazy, beautiful bitch] and Pinkly, her and Brian’s WFD [White Fluffy Dog...].

That’s where she is right now...doing exactly that, and I should be attending them... sigh...

Anyway. Ugh...what to feed them.

I know there’s cheese and crackers in the pantry. I guess that’ll have to do. Matt did buy some Jack the other day as well. He doesn’t drink, much. But the other guys do. Especially short stuff [Johnny]. He’s almost as short as me, I kid you not.

Anyway, cheese crackers...where are you?

I poke my head into the pantry and find the box but it’s right on the top shelf. Damn. I come back out and grab the step-stool just as Matt comes wandering back in.

He raises his eyebrows at me. “What’re you doing?”

Again with the questions. Better answer. “Trying to reach the crackers.” I actually feel my cheeks go a little pink.

He rolls his eyes at me and walks into the pantry and grabs them from the top shelf. “Here. You’re worse than Short shit.”

He passes me the crackers; I crack a tiny smile. “That’s ‘cause I’m shorter than him.”

Matt chuckles as he braces his forearms against the kitchen bench, watching me. “True.”

I blush more and duck my head down as I go to the fridge and grab the large block of cheddar cheese. I can feel his penetrating stare boring into the top of my head. I try to concentrate on laying out the cheese and crackers, but the view of his arms I’m getting is screwing with my head.

The ink that covers them is mesmerising; my favourite out of all of the pieces of art is the red horse on his left forearm. It is so muscular and appears to leap out at you every time you look at it. Reminds me a little of his attitude on stage at least some of the time.

“Val?”

“Huh?” I look up at him; he’s sporting a crooked grin.

“The crackers...” He gives a little nod.

I look down again and blink. Shit. I really hate that. I was cutting the crackers, not the cheese. “Dammit...”

Matt laughs and reaches over to pat me on the head. Like I’m the dog or something.

Speaking of which... “Where’s Bella?”

“In the living room trying to lie all over Jimmy.”

I giggle at that image and shake my head. “Silly dog.”

Matt returns to leaning against the bench.

There’s a long silence for a moment, except for the sound of me slicing cheese and placing them on the unbroken crackers. Then I hear a grunt and this sound as Matt’s obviously preparing to say something. I tilt my head slightly to let him know I’m listening.

“So, what exactly do you say?”

“Huh?” Now he’s lost me.

I glance at him.

He tilts his head to the side, dips his hand in his back pocket and holds up my player. “On this, what do you even say?”

Biting my bottom lip, I shake my head. There’s no way I’m answering that question.

He sighs and places it down in front of me. His action is slow and deliberate. That scares me. Weird, huh? Why the hell would that scare me? I know...I know. But, usually Matt’s a quick man. He kind of rushes in and out of places with this kind of ‘let’s go’ attitude and ‘I don’t care what’s going on’ look to life.

“Val, I asked you a question.”

I sigh and meet his sharp look. “It’s nothing. Just rambling...”

He nods as if that explains something to him. Then he casts a glance toward the living room. “Your sister...” He lets his voice trail off.

I bite at my cheek, a habit I have if you hadn’t already noticed. “Not really...”

He looks at me askance.

I shake my head slowly. “Separated...I was five. So was she.”

Matt’s brow scrunches down in consternation. The expression makes him look surprisingly anxious.

I try a smile. “It doesn’t bother me.”

He doesn’t respond to that.

I shift the plate with the cheese and crackers and half mumble to it. “Long time ago...”

Matt leans over the bench and gently tucks a strand of hair behind my left ear. “Don’t lie, Val. It bothers the fuck outta you.”

I flinch a little, chewing almost savagely at the inside of my cheek.

He gives me that dimpled smile then nods to the plate. “Get those to the guys. We’ll talk more about this.”

Yeah, right. Like I want to talk about my past. Like he wants to hear about my past... Yeah. How riveting would that be? I’m sure the big M Shadows wants to talk about my insignificant past. Much more interesting than writing songs for the band’s new album.

I hope you note the sarcasm...

I grab the plate and head for the dining room, just catching Matt pick up my player again and park his ass on the stool by the bench. I have to force myself to keep walking into the dining room, even though a part of me is telling me to race back into the kitchen and plead with him not to listen to whatever I’ve recorded.

I mean, there’s really no point. If Matt wants to look through my private stuff, that’s his choice. He owns me. And, really...it’s not like I’ve said anything bad about him in it...so I’ll just suck it up and do my job. Let him hear what I have to say...it’s no skin off my nose.

In fact...I’m kinda curious to know what he might think about it. Well, maybe when he talks to me later...

I shake my head and keep walking toward the dining room just as I hear Matt hit the play button and my voice fills the kitchen space...dammit...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Um. Hi...hello. Testing. Wait, does this work? Right. Okay. So, um...my name is Valary Dibenedetto. Wow...this is weird. I feel like I’m talking to myself. Just as long as I don’t answer myself right? Anyway, I’m 27 and I belong to Matt Sanders. Yeah, you heard me right. Not going to repeat it.

We live in Huntington Beach...ugh, you know what? Stop right there. This sounds so damned cliché. I’ll start again.

Deep breath, Val...okay...here goes...

You can never tell what he is thinking. That one thing always gets to me. He wears those goddamned aviators allthe time. Not that I have any right to complain. He does what he wants. He owns me...

Notes