And so it has been decided that E17 will start her university career in March. She has signed up for industrial design. A five year study. So I guess I can stop redecorating that room for her back home. I will most likely not see her before her wedding, which I’m sure will take place within the next few years, going by local customs.
Susy told me that she was going to go out and have Sushi with E17 and discuss her future. She asked me if I wanted to come, to which I replied “yes”. I then spent the afternoon waiting for her call to let me know where and when, but when she finally called at 10PM it was to tell me that they had eaten already and had planned to come over and see me, but that E17 was too tired now. I didn’t know what to say. Much later when Susy returned I wanted to ask her what the hell just happened but she immediately put on the stereo very loud when she came in the door and started dancing wildly. I dragged my depressed old carcass back to my room.
The next day I accidentally met M and her nephew “Panco” in the market. I was having a good time hanging around the guys who sell pirated “cine arte” movies, i.e. non-Hollywood films basically. They even have Norwegian films there. And all the customers are film buffs who stand around discussing films they have seen. It’s just a group of guys standing under a tree with a backpack filled with movies on the ground between them. I finally found a conversation where I had something to contribute. When I left everybody shook my hand and said goodbye like we were old friends.
I then went with M to their house under the guise of having to pick up my package which finally had arrived the day before. First I said that I might not open it there since I had to carry it all home afterwards anyway, and M became irritated. I was just thinking out loud when I said it, pondering whether to open it or not. She was obviously dying of curiosity as to what the big box continued. Sensing this I jokingly maintained that no… best not open it now. And she became more and more annoyed until she straight out demanded that I open it. So finally I did. By then she had exhausted every possible argument including her having a legal right to know what it contained and me allegedly having promised her something therein. All deadly serious. Talk about curiosity.
The box appeared to have been subjected to one of those presses they use for crushing cars, but most of the content was still perfectly OK except for all the chocolates that had melted long ago and morphed into white twisted shapes. In any case I got to see E17. I tried to ask her about the university but she seemed uninterested in talking about it. M brought up the cost again but with no room for a serious discussion about it.
What they expect from me exactly, is $400 a month. This much I have been told. A sum which may grow eventually as each year at the University has different monthly costs. I did try to bring up the fact that I cannot guarantee them that amount of cash for five years, but there was no willingness to discuss it. M made a joke about me selling my kidneys, but I know she would really expect me to do that if it came to it. I don’t know what to do now. Maybe I’ll just have to stop sending money without any explanation when the time comes. It’s not as much as I had feared but when you don’t have it you don’t have it.
I can’t help but wonder how many thousand I have paid so far for each minute I have gotten to see E17. Quite frankly I feel that I’ve been getting a bad deal. I don’t have maternal instincts. The kid is a stranger to me, more or less. I want to get to know her, but if it’s a strictly pay for view arrangement, I’m no longer sure that I feel like subscribing. I’m simply not getting enough for my money.
I feel trapped. This total unwillingness to include me in anything. Nobody asked me if I would be able to support such an education scheme. All I get is “you better pay”. I’m starting to understand men who just give up and desert their families altogether. Men who are not heard. Men who are bad fathers no matter what they try to do. Men who are human cash machines for women who want to raise children their own way. It’s like a fight that will only end with a knockout. Or when someone throws in the towel. I have a towel and I’m becoming ever more curious about it’s aerodynamic abilities. Some fights cannot be won it seems.