Marriage is a sacred institution – so you should engage in it as often as possible.
– E. Taylor
Sharks gotta swim, bats gotta fly. Peyton’s got to… Well, she’s got to screw up every relationship she can and leave a trail of broken lives in her twisted wake.
No, our marriage is not going as well as I might hope. And I understand that General Custer had a bad day at Little Big Horn.
Do I sound bitter? Yes. Well, I hope to show you why. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? I got married to Peyton Place, as planned. The ceremony went well. Dad, Horta, and my brothers were all there for it, and Peyton was radiant. I really thought she was happy. The more fool I.
There is none so blind as he who will not see. I see it now, but didn’t then. The first hint, the first clue that my new wife was not quite the same as she was in my mind’s eye. At our wedding reception, she started goading my twin, Horta. Juvenile pranks, like joy buzzers and whoopee cushions, but she just wouldn’t let up. Horta took it with all the grace she could manage, which was considerable, and I just wrote it off as high spirits from the wedding. I wasn’t blind, I just refused to see.
And for a time she kept up her charade. A man with far more discernment than I possess would still be hard pressed to look deeper when greeted by such passionate kisses as I received. In those first few blessed days of our marriage I gleefully anticipated my return home to such evanescent pleasures.
While my sister still suffered under Peyton’s harassment, it was impossible for me not to notice her joy as she too enjoyed her pleasures. Antonio was a regular visitor at our home, and I think he was less interested in our observatory than he let on. Rather he enjoyed the fact that Horta was the one leading his tours, to put the issue bluntly.
Those were happy times for us all.
The cold winds soon started to blow.
Horta was pregnant. She and Father argued long into the night. He wanted her to get married, quickly. “The second child takes nine months, the first takes whatever God wills,” he told her when she complained that people would know anyway. Sis did not want to walk down the aisle pregnant, and determined to wait until after the birth. Hindsight may be 20/20, but in this case it would take more than perfect vision to see a good result. She made her decision, and I will stand with her to hope it works out.
We’ll never know how well Horta’s plan would have worked on its own, before the Godzilla of relationships decided to enter the picture. Peyton set her sights on my sister’s fiance, and pursued him with— I hate to say this, but with the same determination and single mindedness she had when she pursued me. Horta is my twin, I stand with her and support her and will never forgive Antonio his weakness. But in my heart of hearts, I understand.
Horta left Antonio, of course. Her heart broke, but she saw no other option.
I like to think I’d have left Peyton too, but it is not my weakness I have to blame for her continued presence. Rather, she is pregnant too. We will, of course, have the child tested when it is born. Should it not be mine, I believe my grandfather’s rules will allow me to eject her. I fear, though, that my wife is a cunning woman, for if the child is mine her future is secure, and she knows this.
She turns now to spite. Not content with cuckolding me, she must now also shame me. She has taken to pursuing my brother, Gorn. A fine hunter, she quickly claims her prey. She has both the patience and the heart of a crocodile.
With our lives in ruins, still we find the occasional flower poking through the rubble. The ghosts of our ancestors still visit us from time to time, and Mother is now among them. Father has seen his spirits rise with the new spirit visitor. To see a love that has lasted beyond the bounds of death makes me jealous, but that is tempered by the love I feel for my parents.
And, though I wish this were a far more joyous occasion than it is, my sister has had her child. A beautiful little girl, by the name of Skrull. May she receive all the love her mother and uncle will lack.