Remind Me Again

016

016  (Ivan’s POV)   

“Our fearlessness shall be our secret weapon.”

~The Fault in our Stars; John Green

August 28, 2012

Studies show that 80% of male Cro-Magnon died of a broken heart and the rest of the 20% decided to move on and be the race of the Homo-Sapiens. Maybe they were enlightened by some light above that they decided to Go Forth and Multiply. Well, I thank those who had lived to see the next era of what Dinosaurs won’t look like. Oh—I read this fact on Ivan Patricks’ Book of Non-existent Topics. I don’t know if you’ve ever read of that book. It was quite at the top seller list on “Rotten Tomatoes”. I sure have read that one to make sure that I made that up.

So base on my recent calculations, my intricate mind tells me that my real name was altruistically exposed on Tamara’s oxymoron chapter. Well, the last time I checked my records, my name was an anagram for the word “navi” (which I figured wasn’t even part of the English dictionary) and was eventually hailed as the epitome of all sense and egoistical humor. Great. Now I feel so oppressed that you know that I’m 1/24 Celtic, 1/16 Alien, 1/8 Vampire descent, 1/4 Autistic, 1/2 Anomalous, and pure Ivanian. If you got the last word correctly I’d be proud to say that you are a certified genius and that you’re on the road to incredible Einstein behavior.

Moving on to what’s the scenario of today’s story, in my case, I am a good boy and I am having dinner with my parents. My subconscious croons in the background and I shut his reverie for the rest of the chapter. I don’t know why my mom decided to have a family dinner. My instincts tell me she had been eating a lot of caviar lately and fish eggs are starting to grow on her head.

Here’s the thing, my parents don’t spend time with me. So it’s a joke on my part to have dinner with them. Right now, yes, we are having a family dinner but it’s like they aren’t even with me. My mom’s on her laptop checking her emails and my dad’s on his phone. As if all of these things ever changes.

“Ivan, son, I want you to take Tamara over for dinner.” My mom says and I almost swallowed my fork whole.

I coughed out. “You’re joking right?”

She makes a serious face at me. “Does this face look like I’m kidding?”

I rolled my eyes at her.

“Is this the girl you’re with when I saw you at the law court?” I had my dad’s attention when he turned his phone off. He might found something of me that picked his interest. Hmm, might as well play along.

I smirked at him. “Oh you remember? That was months ago, Rick.”

He shoots me that look that would have frozen any criminal mastermind. But I shrugged it off.

“Ivan,” my mom gives me a warning look.

“What?”

“Just bring Tamara over, okay?”

I sighed. “Carmen, that really is up to her. Besides, I am busy. I have a lot of things to do.”

My dad snorts as he places his serviette down. “Like what?”

“Paint the walls (I mean, vandalize the walls), make sign boards (vandalize more streets), sell medicine (sells drugs), do community service (and terrorize more people). You should be proud of me, Rick. I am making the town a better place.”

“So what are you like Superman or something?” my dad says, clearly out of mockery.

“No. I’m Tamara’s man. I just wanna be good enough for her.” I said as I fix him a gaze.