Legacy

Chapter 2: Sweet Little Robin

"So, I went ahead and rented some movies for us to watch as a family." Michael leans over and whispers, "And one for us once monster goes to bed."

"Oh, are we going to have popcorn too?" I ask excitedly.

"Well, yeah," Michael answers. "What kind of movie-night-slash-birthday-celebration would this be if we didn't have popcorn?" He slips his thumb into his mouth to lick off some of the icing left on his fingers.

"Mommy?" Robin pipes up. "More juice," he requests in that sweet little voice of his.

I smile down at his little messy breakfast face. He really did go after the frosting. Right on schedule. "What do we say, Robin?" I ask, fixing his thick dark hair behind his ears.

"Please." I nod and before I can stand up, Michael is already in the kitchen.

Another smile crosses my face. As much as I hate the circumstances, the man is a really good dad. Maybe we do have a real shot at being normal. At least our fucked up version of it.

I've lost the drive to escape. I can't leave Robin. I'd have to take him with me. If I tried and we actually got out, if our son got hurt... I could never forgive myself. And I don't think Michael would either.

On a nice sunny day I can get Michael to let us outside. Close by. Always within ten feet.

But when he's gone the doors are always locked. I can't ask him to leave them unlocked. He would just think it's me trying to trick him again, like I did years ago.

Maybe one day...

Michael comes back and hands Robin his juice before pressing a kiss to his head.

Then he sets a few movies on the table. Pinocchio, The Princess Bride, and another movie that causes me to frown. "Felidae?"

Is that even English?

"Yeah. It's a cartoon film about cats."

I shrug. "Alright. Looks good to me." I say with a smile. "Which one is for us once this one's in bed?"

Michael smiles back and holds up one more movie. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.

"I think I've heard of that one." I say with a joking grin. "They were quick to make a movie weren't they. Doesn't it usually take awhile for that?"

"Gotta drain the cash cow before the milk dries up, I guess," he replies with a chuckle.

"How popular is it now?"

"Morning Bird." Michael says firmly, adjusting his glasses on his nose. His eyes hint at a possible punishment if it was any other day. I'm lucky we are celebrating my birthday today.

Twenty-one. That should have been my most important birthday. One drink. I would not fall down the same hole my father did.

But instead I'm here. I am only allowed a drink on special occasions. And only when Robin is down for the night.

Right... Absolutely no questions about the outside world...

Michael is willing to share some outside information with me. But only the things he wants me to know.

New books and movies that are popular, articles about the people he has killed, and whatever comes up on my radio is fair game for me to know. I'm not allowed to know about my friend Mason, or what's going on in this country.

According to my husband, I don't need to worry about those things anymore.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, my fingers fiddling with the corner of one of the tapes. "I thought that question would be alright."

Michael heaves a sigh. "I guess. Since it's your day." He pops his knuckles absentmindedly. "It's all the kids are talking about." A shrug. "Understandable. The books are good. Really good."

I smile brightly. Mostly because of the relief that he didn't blow a fuse at my question. I never quite know what will set him off.

"So, let's go start our marathon." Michael says, instantly changing the subject.

~~~~~

We start with The Princess Bride. Then some live action version of Pinocchio. That one was fucking weird. But I was not prepared for what came next.

Felidae is, in fact, an animated film about cats. I was expecting some kind of fun adventure movie. But no. This was a murder mystery. I was not expecting the suicides and the severed heads and the relentless gore.

And I didn't know why Michael would play this for me and Robin. That is, until I spared a glance in his direction.

His eyes are not on the flickering tv screen. They are instead fixed on our son. His brow is furrowed behind his glasses, eyes narrowed.

Assessing.

This movie wasn't for me. It was to see how Robin would take to it. Each movie had a bit of brutality, each worse than the last.

Michael is trying to see exactly where the line is with Robin. And he probably plans to try and cross it. If one even exists... I really hope it does.

My birthday was just an excuse for this little experiment of his.

Then we get to a sudden dream sequence in the movie. Of all the fucked up things in it, this part is definitely the hardest for me to watch.

So I instead cut a glance down at Robin. His big eyes have grown even bigger and his mouth has dropped wide open in shock. The kind of shock that forces you to keep watching whatever has your eye at the moment.

Unblinking. Frozen. Horror. That's what it is.

I don't even know if I should be furious at Michael for subjecting Robin to this graphic imagery, or relieved at the fact that Robin obviously isn't enjoying it.

It's like Michael is a father bird trying to push Robin out of the nest and doesn't just expect him to fly. Michael wants our son to develop talons and become a bird of prey. Ready to snatch up the first helpless mouse that catches his eye.

Just like his father before him.

But he can't be. It's not in his nature. I just can't imagine my little Robin enjoying the idea of torture.

He is gentle. He is sweet. He is innocent.

My son is everything I used to be. Everything I miss about myself. All I want to be again.

The movie suddenly draws to a close and I find that Robin at some point had crawled up into my lap, his head now resting on my chest. I press a kiss to his temple and I can feel him trembling.

My eyes suddenly flick up to look to my husband and he gets up to rewind the tape and replace it in its case.

So casual. As if he didn't just traumatize our son.

I blink and suddenly I remember...

His behavior. He acted the exact same way when he first brought me here all those years ago. The way he wanted me to act. Almost normal. That can only mean one thing.

This is only the beginning.