The Patience of the Spider

The Patience of the Spider

January 27^th, 2013

'Nothing ever turns out as you want.

'But I always knew how to make the best out of the worst situations.

'If I have to eat at another mall's food court, I'll start to shoot people down. Alain is a good boy, but too provincial for my taste. The house and some money will be enough for him. He doesn’t desire anything more beyond his music or his sorry teaching position.

'Nobody was as perfect for me as my angel, but he was as crazy as you can be. Bloody father of his!

'The only good thing that came out of us was my Conor, but I lost him too. With Pavicevic in power, I can't stay in Europe any longer. America is not safe enough for me. Only one more month, and I'll be gone from here too.'

Constantin's eyes roamed the waiting room, painted in soft colours with its shinning marble floor and modern paintings on the walls. 'Pictures of babies would have been too obvious, but better than these abominations.'

“Mr. Arseniev? You can see your son now. He's a healthy boy.” The young nurse took him out of his musings and the man fixed his eyes on the cheap reproduction of a Miró hanging from the wall on one of the corridors of the private clinic.

“Thank you,” he answered. “Is the surrogate mother all right?” he asked for politeness' sake and nothing else.

“The doctor will speak to you later,” the nurse answered, feeling very uncomfortable at the cold tone the man had used to refer to the woman who had just given birth to a child for him.

“May I see my son now?”

“Yes, follow me, please,” she said curtly, and Constantin rose to follow her through the light blue painted corridors, doing his best to ignore once more the ugly mass-printed reproductions hanging from the walls.

The nurse simply planted him in front of the nursery's window and disappeared inside the softly illuminated room, crowded with cribs. A minute later she appeared on the other side of the glass, smiling as she held a newly born baby in her arms.

Constantin watched the baby asleep in her arms and once more felt a familiar warmth wash over him, the same he had felt each time he had seen all of his children for the first time.

'Just like my Connor,' he thought as his right hand involuntary placed itself over the glass to let him come closer to the baby.

The nurse turned around and walked to the door to give the infant to his father. “He's certainly cute,” she said, watching the small nose and delicate features. “I'll show you how to do it,” she said, getting ready to show the man how to properly hold a baby.

“Is everything all right with him?” Constantin asked as he took the baby from her hands and expertly cuddled him to his chest, not waking him up at all.

“Yes, his Apgar test was nine,” she answered a bit surprised that a single man could manage so well a newborn and held him so confidently.

“Has he eaten?”

“No, not yet. You clearly said you didn't want him to have much contact with the mother.”

“Well, you should feed him soon. That he's tired from the surgery and still sleeping doesn't mean you can overlook your duty to take care of him,” Constantin said sharply.

“Yes, sir,” she answered back. “I thought you would prefer to do it yourself.”

“In the corridor?” he smirked.

She bit her bottom lip as she realised he had no room to go, and probably he wouldn't want to use the suite the surrogate mother was occupying. “I can provide you with sterile clothes and you can do it inside the nursery,” she said. “Or you could go to Administration and ask they assign you a room.”

“A man in a maternity ward is too modern for any hospital,” Constantin sneered. “An apron will be fine.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered, opening the first door to the nursery to let him in. “Wait here, please,” she said as she opened the second door to enter the sterile area.

Constantin sat in the small antechamber and looked at the child with real tenderness. His eyes took every detail of the baby’s slightly frowned face, as if he were still not used to be in the world. Constantin guessed his hair would also be very blond as the few strands on his head showed a light brown colour under the white cap. The baby opened his eyes for a brief instant, to close them quickly under the bright lights, but it was enough to let Constantin see they were a dark shade of blue, exactly as Guntram's first child’s had been at birth.

'It was a blessing there were still three embryos left. You are going to be as handsome as your father and your brother were.'

* * *

The man contemplated the certificates the lawyer had left that morning at the lobby of his hotel. The papers, lying in disarray over the wooden table, told him his new life. With a sigh, he left the bottle aside and gently patted the six-day-old baby, who made soft sounds of content before closing his eyes to sleep again.

“You are even more peaceful than Conor, my little Kostya. Must be my angel's sweet nature influence on you,” he said to the child in Russian. “We have everything ready and we will be going away very soon.”

With great care, Constantin rose from his chair and walked towards the crib where he laid the sleeping boy and covered him well. At his side, he placed the large, red and green plush tree frog he had bought for him, enthralled by the toy's likeness and bright colours.

'No more French spellings for us, Kostya,' he thought as he read the birth certificate for one Konstantin Arseniev, son of François Arseniev. 'You are a proud American citizen now.

'Argentina is the last place on earth Lintorff would set foot again. He has nothing left in that country and Guntram will never return there. It's a safe place for us.

'No one will ever look for us there, and Buenos Aires is good enough for me. After all the havoc Pavicevic caused back in 2010, Rimsky keeps the area free of crusaders at all costs. The private schools there are good, and I have more than enough resources as to live well for the rest of our lives. Nobody asks you a thing as long as you have money.

'It's a pity you will never meet your brother. He was a wonderful baby.

'The most beautiful thing I ever owned. Nothing could compare to my Conor. No artwork was as incredible as he was. Guntram lost half of his credit with me the minute I saw him.

'Now, after seeing my Konstantin, I really don't care about him any longer.

'Perhaps I will forget my Conor, too. Perhaps my Kostya wants to be an engineer or a scientist. Time will tell.

'It's a new beginning for all of us.'

Finis

September 17^th, 2012