lips revealed a proud, somewhat regal smile.
“Mr. Creed, he didn’t leave you a fishing pole… a car or two. You’ve been left with his entire estate. Every. Single. Penny.” The room erupted in gasps and curses, a toppled chair, and some woman with hair so blond, it appeared white storming out of the room in a fit of tears. A small man sporting an old burnt orange suit jacket trailed behind her, calling out her name in a hushed tone, speaking sweet nothings and trying to calm her down. The commotion continued, with people talking over one another as if whoever talked the fastest would score a piece of the pie.
“I don’t know these people around me, either.” Aries turned and stared at everyone. It was about eight people bunched up in there, all of them looking anywhere from downright depressed to mad as a hornet in a knocked-down nest. “We all share blood apparently, due to my dead father. You’re all here for the same reason I am. After what Mr. Smith said, I take it they feel some sorta way, but I have nothing to do with that and—”
“Ya damn straight I feel some sort of way!” a man piped up, perched on a chair as if he were about to rocket right out of his seat. His face was red and his eyes blue and sleepy. Clad in a plaid shirt and dark brown pants that bunched real tight about the crotch, he looked ridiculous. “Did you give this man a DNA test?!” the man screamed, pointing at Aries. His eyes strained to go as big as they possibly could.
“No. There was no DNA test given,” Mr. Smith answered.
“Well then, how in the hell do we even know this is his damn son?!”
“Yeah!” many others chimed in.
Mr. Smith took a leisurely sip of his water, then pulled out another file.
“My client, Mr. Benjamin Creed, made it perfectly clear that Aries Creed, the son of Sandra Dixon, is in fact his son.”
“Bull pucky! Ben never mentioned no damn kid to me, ’cept Paul, who is deceased! Never heard of no damn Aries!”
“Mr. Dunes, Benjamin did not question the paternity of Aries here. In fact, he brought in two photos, placed them side by side, and presented them to me when taking care of his Last Will and Testament that we’re now discussing.”
The lawyer cleared his throat and pulled out a board that was on the side of his desk, face down. On the left side was an old worn baby photo, who he presumed was his father. On the right was his own baby picture. A lump formed in Aries’ throat. The room drew quiet.
“As you can see,” the man continued, “Aries is practically a carbon copy of his father here. Seeing his son soon after birth, Benjamin had no questions regarding the child’s paternity. Additionally, Aries has three genetic dispositions that run in the Creed family. A sixth finger, which was removed right after delivery – and which Benjamin had as well. A cleft chin, which of course we can’t see since Aries has a beard, and also a widow’s peak. These are all inherited traits.”
“Well, that don’t mean anything!” the same man piped up, his face now redder than ever. “Widow’s peaks are a dime a dozen! Superman chins are nothing to write home about, hardly a rare thing, and six fingers could be from the mother’s side. Who the hell knows?”
“So you’re a medical expert now, huh? Newsflash. You’re not in charge here.” Aries sneered.
“We want answers!”
“You don’t care about answers and the truth. You only care about the money. Now you’ve got this attorney here pullin’ out science fair charts and shit on your behalf and you’re still not satisfied!” Aries chuckled.
“As he should!”
“Next thing ya know, he’ll have to pull out a book about the birds and the bees for you, explain how this basic shit works. Well, ya see, boys and girls, sometimes a man meets a woman and they do a little somethin’ somethin’… Do you need a picture book for that, too?”
“You can make all the jokes you want, but this is not funny. We’re Benjamin’s family. You just showed up outta the clear blue and we demand to know the truth! Nobody is going to sit here and not question this—”
“Did you hear me? You mean nothing to me. I don’t even know you. Neither I nor Mr. Smith have to explain a gotdamn thing to you, buddy. Mr.