CARLOS & KATRINA

A Novel by Charles Adrian Trevino
Copyright 2006, 2020

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Chapter 33

Katrina finished washing the dishes from her late breakfast, then reached across the counter for one of the small colorful towels hanging from the ornate hooks on the wall and slowly began to wipe them dry. When she had finished drying the last one she started to transfer them from the drying rack to a nearby cupboard. She moved slowly and methodically, not wanting to think about what had just occurred... but she couldn't help but think about it, no matter how hard she tried not to.

Carlos had left that morning in a rage -- something very uncharacteristic of him -- after they had had a terrible, screaming argument. He had arrived earlier at the house in a rental car with a surfboard strapped to a roof rack, carrying his luggage and a black attache case which he had proceeded to open immediately after sitting down on the small loveseat by the front door in the large foyer. Pulling out several newspapers and a little pamphlet, he had begun to peruse them intently, quietly uttering a string of angry curse words. He had not even noticed her standing by the stairway.

Katrina had known right away what he was reading about. It could only be one thing -- the bloody uprising that had ocurred the night before in Franklinville.

Of course he would be right on it, she had thought to herself as she approached him. The media was practically screaming about the horrible event from every possible outlet; how a deranged band of traitorous high-ranking military and political figures had been caught trying to overthrow the country's government, and how they had resisted their lawful arrest, starting a pitched battle that had ended in a horrible massacre. The entire event had been broadcast live on television and was still being re-played, over and over again. There was no way he could have missed it, even while traveling.

When Carlos had finally looked around and seen her approaching, he quickly stood up and smiled at her, and they kissed and embraced each other warmly. But she could see that he was very upset and agitated, and she understood why; Katrina had by now started to think exactly like Carlos did, seeing evil secretive plots behind every statement expressed by the news shows, magazines and papers. The reports of the events of the preceding night, relentlessly spewed out by the country's extremely questionable media, were just too suspicious to be believable.

According to the media's account the rebellious band of traitors had instigated a firefight, first killing one of their own members as he tried to turn himself in, then firing upon the unprovoking helicopters that were imploring them to give themselves up and assuring them that they would not be harmed in any way; the so-called traitors had even started shooting at the crowd of reporters and spectators that were standing by, prompting the military to respond in kind and starting a hellish battle in which many innocent people were slaughtered, including John Terraman, the famous "Knee."

"Carlos, what do you think really happened in Franklinville?" Katrina asked him -- and had immediately regretted it.

"They murdered them all!" Carlos practically screamed out the words, clenching his fists. "God, can you believe those fucking yoo..." He stopped himself before finishing his sentence, staring down at the floor with a look of pain on his face. But Katrina knew what he had been about to say and winced, immediately remembering the shock of their first date which had ended so bitterly.

Katrina could hear her mother descending the stairway to greet Carlos, and turned around. Wrapped in her plush, thick blue and white bathrobe and slippers, with her hair disheveled, Gail looked like she had just gotten out of bed. The expression on her face was distressed, still troubled by the news reports she had been watching and listening to all night.

"Oh, hello Gail... how are you? I hope I didn't wake you up..." Carlos had quickly recovered himself and looked up, smiling at his beneficient host.

"Oh Carlos, did you hear about those terrible anti-ushers that tried to take over the government?" Gail immediately asked. "Isn't it horrible? What is this world coming to, when people have to hate each other so much? Why did they have to kill all those innocent people? I just cannot understand it!"

Katrina looked at Carlos with a weak smile, and a weary expression on her face. She had tried to explain to her mother that the news people were completely untrustworthy, either willingly lying or else being forced to do so by an irresistable invisible power, but had been unable to make any headway, being interrupted by the sudden appearance of her mother's protector and friend Steve Allen, her late father's law firm partner who came by often to see how they both were doing. Katrina had decided to wait for a better time.

"I tried to explain things to her Carlos, but I kept getting interrupted... we're going to have to all sit down and talk. Be patient, please. I'll explain things to her..." Katrina found herself speaking with an apologetic, almost pleading tone. The look on Carlos' face was beginning to worry her.

"Explain what, dear? It's all so crystal clear..." Gail said to Katrina with a puzzled look. "The anti-Ushers tried to overthrow the government! It's all over the news!" She looked at Carlos, as if expecting reinforcement. Carlos looked down at the floor again for a moment, before turning to face Katrina.

"It's alright, honey. We'll hash this whole thing out eventually..." Carlos managed to muster a weak smile himself, but his thoughts were confused... and angry.

"Whatever are you two talking about? Hash what out? What do you mean, Katrina? Those men were monsters, mass-murderers... don't you believe the news reports?" Gail was becoming more confused and irritated with each passing second.

"Mom... you have to understand something right now. This country's news media... is completely untrustworthy. They're quite simply lying... they lie about everything, except the weather maybe. We need to sit down with Carlos and have a talk, a long talk... it's going to take a little while -- you don't understand..."

Gail reacted harshly. "No, I don't understand! What are you talking about, Katrina? The news people are honest and trustworthy... why would they lie? You're beginning to sound like your father! You know how he was... he didn't trust anyone, he was so suspicious, and now you're starting to act that way too!" Gail's face was becoming contorted with anger.

Carlos stepped between them, holding up one hand. "I don't think we should force this on Gail all at once, Katrina, it's... it's a very hard thing to believe, you know... I've been through this many times before myself." Carlos sighed resignedly and reached out to take Katrina's hand, squeezing it gently.

"You and Carlos both sound just like your father, Katrina!" Gail burst out in anger. "Why won't you just face the facts? Of course the news people are telling the truth... you saw it on television! How they shot that poor man when he was trying to surrender, they're... they were criminally insane lunatics! It's good that they're all dead and gone!"

Carlos exhaled heavily and lowered his eyes once again, and Katrina reached out and put her arms around his shoulders. When he looked up again he didn't smile. "Katrina... let's go upstairs and talk. We need to talk. It's alright Gail, we'll... we'll get to the bottom of this, don't worry. Have your coffee, and don't worry anymore. Everything's going to be alright... eventually."

Gail exhaled heavily in exasperation. "I have to go feed the cat... I'll see you two later," Gail said, turning and walking away towards the kitchen in a huff.

Carlos and Katrina had then gone upstairs to her room to decide how they should best handle the situation... and had gotten into a terrible argument. Katrina shuddered as she remembered the heated exchange that had ensued.

Carlos had told her that he thought it was best for him to move out and find temporary quarters somewhere else for a while, that he needed time to think. Badly hurt and worried, she had tried to dissuade him, but he was adamant. He had frightened her by saying that he didn't know if he was going down the right path, that he was having doubts about the bond that was growing so strongly between them; he wanted time to contemplate where he was going, what he should do. Then she had gotten angry and asked him to explain himself immediately, and they had started to quibble... about their differences, their future plans together... and about Ushers.

He had finally come clean and told her that he was uncertain if they were right for each other; he had been hurt very badly by Ushers, certain types of Ushers, for a very long sustained period... it had had a devastating effect on his psyche, and all that hurt was now coming home to roost. And Ushers, or more specifically an ancient and powerful elite Usher faction known as the Realists, had hurt many other people besides himself, justifying every foul deed they committed by blaming it on the ever-growing resentment of Ushers that was once again spreading not only across the UFS but the entire civilized world, a resentment that was completely understandable and predictable given the outrageous conduct and actions of the more unscrupulous Realists; a fear and resentment that the lesser Ushers should have understood, but which they steadfastly refused to acknowledge was the natural result of their own inability to sort themselves out and gain control of their murderously unprincipaled leaders. They vast majority of them seemed to have bought into the notion that they were the people who had suffered the most in the world, and now the world had to pay and pay for treating them so unfairly without due cause. Yet there obviously were many reasons for the resentment... they appeared to be carrying and supporting a very powerful, insanely hyper-sensitive and vindictive clique of powerful people who, judging from their vile and murderous actions, didn't seem fit to be called "human" at all.

Carlos had asked just how much it meant to her to be a part of such a questionable religion, if it actually was a religion; he had used the word "cult" in a negative context. He asked her if she had ever considered quitting the Usher "cult" and converting to another faith like Christianity, or to atheism. Katrina had taken offense; it was completely unlike Carlos to be so blunt and close-minded. She had tried to defend the religion, her father's religion, but the more she did the angrier he had become.

"How can you defend this cult, Katrina? You're smart enough to know what they've done to society, and what they're going to do! They're a small minority of the population, yet they completely control the political power of this country, and what do they use it for? To start wars and bring misery to helpless, innocent people! To reinforce the banking dynasties! To kill free speech, to subvert our constitutional rights... and they're doing it all in broad daylight! When they're not denying it, they're gloating about it! Only a few politicians try to stop them, and what happens to them? They get completely smeared in the media. They get ruined, ostracized. Even the fucking president is tacitly encouraging people to kill them! They won't stop supporting the right-wing Realist fuckers in Usheria, they act like it's our duty and obligation to give them our money and support their murderous Satanic causes... they've completely perverted the culture of this country, the film and music industries have gone to complete shit, journalism, art, everything, everything is mean, sordid, disgusting! They've got all the young people shooting each other down now, and then they have the nerve to say their movies and video games and all their other cultural lunacy has nothing to do with it! And they love these mass shootings, they're deliberately encouraging them so they can trick us into letting them take away our weapons, leaving us helplessly at their mercy! And I haven't even started to scratch the fucking surface of everything they do! They are totally deleterious, a danger to humanity... how can you keep defending these monsters?"

"But it's not all of them, Carlos!" Katrina retorted, in an almost pleading tone of voice. "You said so yourself, I've read your writings -- you said so yourself! You're just very angry, and I understand -- believe me, I understand why you're so angry! Ushers have hurt you very badly... but you have to calm down and admit that Ushers are in a completely confused state of flux... they're in turmoil! And it's only the Realists who openly advocate evil, really... most Ushers oppose the Realists, even the right-wingers, and the..."

"The right-wingers? Webanyahoo is a goddamned Realist! And they won't get rid of him! And the Rothman's are fucking Realists... they're at the top of the pyramid, they thrive on all the evil of the world, they use it to increase their power! They can't be stopped, with all their monetary schemes, making their worthless, ignoble, scumbag politicians and pawns rich and powerful... the Realists are the source of almost everything bad that's happening in the world today, and they don't think they're doing anything fucking wrong!! They think it's the straights! They're completely insane! Look at how they justify October 13th... look what they did just fucking last night! In cold blood, they..."

"I know... I saw it all, and I knew... but Carlos, you have to try to understand... you're very angry right now. You mustn't leave. My mother can be very dense, but she's a good person! Really she is, Carlos... and she loves you! She loves you because you love me..." Katrina's eyes were full of pain. Carlos hesitated for a few seconds, trying to get ahold of his anger; but then he started right in again, albeit in a somewhat gentler tone.

"This has nothing to do with your mother, Katrina. I like Gail very much, and I'm very grateful to her for letting me stay here with you... but she's a classic example of Usher ignorance. It's this goddamned constant denial that allows these inhuman monsters to operate and thrive... just last week I mailed a letter for her when I went to the post office, and it was a contribution to the Usher Defense League... they kill people, Katrina! People like that murder anyone who opposes them, anyone who poses a threat to their insanity... groups like that can kill anyone they want with complete impunity, anytime they want -- and they do!"

"She doesn't contribute to the UDL, Carlos..." Katrina said, weakly; she was beginning to cave in under his barrage of accusations.

"She told me it was a contribution to the UDL, Katrina! She thought she was helping all Ushers, and I didn't have time to explain it to her -- all she's doing is feeding the fucking fire..." Exasperated, Carlos turned away from her and went over to the window, looking down at the backyard.

"She's a very good person, Carlos. We just have to take some time to explain things to her, that's all... the way things are with the Ushers..."

"Why are you so faithful to such a highly suspect cult, Katrina? Exactly what do you get out of it? What do they do for you?" Carlos asked, staring out the window.

"It's not what I get out of it, Carlos. It's the way I was brought up, by my father who I loved very dearly. Why can't you understand the position I'm in? I'd be casting aspersions on my own father's integrity... everything he believed in! And he loved me, he tried to protect me... he gave me everything..." Katrina had found herself pleading, ready to cry.

"But your father isn't you, Katrina! He was from a different time, a different situation completely! I do understand his position, and yours. He was subjected to harsh discrimination... but it's different with you! Nobody's gonna' stereotype you, discriminate on you... you don't even look Usherish! I don't understand this intense loyalty... why do you carry on with something that doesn't pertain to you, wouldn't even affect you if you didn't tell people you were a Usher? Nobody would bother you, there would be no reason for them to resent you, no reason to seek revenge if you would just give it up, expunge it... just walk away from it!" Carlos' vexation was becoming more evident; he had never talked to her so harshly before. She had started to tremble... she had to struggle to control herself.

"But what about the Ushers that do look like Ushers, Carlos? What are they supposed to do, give up the only thing that protects them, gives them comfort? What about those people? I can't believe you're being so insensitive... " Katrina raised her shaking hand to her head and looked away.

"WHAT ABOUT THEM?" he yelled, completely losing his composure. "What do you owe them? You can walk away from it, you can escape it completely... why do you insist on wearing this hair shirt all your life? Don't you remember how those people at school treated you when you were down? Did they come to your rescue, did they support you? No, they didn't! They attacked you from every angle, didn't they? They felt no loyalty to you because you were a Usher! Katrina, you've been completely brainwashed by your father's ideology, out of respect for him, and he's dead! It's moot! It's time to wake up and see the truth!"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this from you! I thought you were a very sensitive person... I'm beginning to have serious doubts about you, Carlos! Why are you being so mean? I... I feel like I don't really know you, and I was so sure I did... you're frightening me, Carlos... you're scaring me..." Katrina had finally broken down, and began to cry.

Carlos had then immediately stopped his yelling; running back across the room, he threw his arms around her, apologizing, trying to console her. He tried again to compose himself, but the damage had already been done; things would never be the same again. She had broken down completely in his arms, sobbing and shaking as he stroked her face and hair, whispering apologies, trying to reassure her.

After a long while Katrina had stopped crying, and disentangled herself from his embrace. She walked over to her bed to sit down, away from him. She had felt wounded, betrayed... totally destroyed. But she managed to regain her composure -- and her dignity. Slowly looking up at him with a defiant expression, she spoke the words she had been dreading to say.

"Alright, Carlos," Katrina said softly. "If you want to leave, I'm not going to hold you back anymore. Do what you want... I'm through." She stared down at the floor again, unable to bring herself to look at him any longer.

Carlos had just stood there for a long time, looking at a picture of Katrina and her mother that was hanging from the wall ... then slowly turned and began walking towards the door, looking like he was struggling hard to keep from crying himself. He stopped, turning around to look at her one last time... he started to say something, but abruptly stopped; then he walked out of the room and was gone, leaving her previously happy world completely shattered into fragments.

Slowly coming back to the present, Katrina looked down at the cup in her hand and sighed. The mid-day sun was streaming through the window as she turned and walked out of the kitchen, heading back to her room. She just wanted to forget now; about Carlos, about their brief period of happiness together, about what she would do next... just simply forget.

She slowly ascended the stairway and went to her room, and laid down on her bed. As usual, the mid-day sunbeams were streaming in cheerfully, but she didn't notice them anymore. She closed her eyes and, in spite of her best efforts, began to think about Carlos and herself and what he had actually meant to her. She remembered the day she had seen him leaving the water after going surfing early in the morning before classes, and how he had said nothing to her. Now she understood why; he hadn't trusted her, not as far as he could throw her. She had just been another potential enemy to him, someone who only wanted to hurt him, someone who would attack him viciously with no provocation necessary on his part.

Slowly she began to realize just what Ushers had done to Carlos, and scenes from the past began racing through her mind. How reviled he had been at school -- she had constantly heard his name being bandied about everywhere, long before she had actually met him. The things he had been accused of; the names he had been called by people she now considered lower than the ground she trod upon. They had invaded his privacy with absolutely no shame, and had broadcast far and wide pictures and videos of his solitary, drug-fueled masturbatory rituals -- how he snorted heroin or smoked marijuana and crack cocaine, then spread out pictures of girls in their underwear and bathing suits all around his room; something she now realized he had done only because Ushers like Jacob Rosenberg, abject worms in human form who had no concept of honor or decency, had shamelessly and expertly destroyed his reputation and caused him to quit socializing with females, and most males as well. Then she started to remember the names she had heard him called by people who were just as repulsive as Jacob.

All the mean insults began to flow through her mind like water rushing through a floodgate. They had called him weirdo, pervert, wanker, loser; wack-job, faggot, drug addict, burnout, surf monkey... they had gleefully seized upon Carlos' atavistic facial features and had relentlessly and unceasingly used words like apeman, neanderthal, and missing link to describe him. Katrina and her closest friends had all commented on the irony of the whole thing -- how most of the people who said these things were actually much more unattractive than Carlos himself was -- people who were absolutely devoid of any semblance of beauty, charm, talent and especially class made up the bulk of his many enemies. These were people who had nothing going for them whatsoever, complete self-loathing losers... they made Carlos look like a God by comparison! And they refused to admit the truth of what they were and the depraved things they did. They were absolutely absurd; ridiculous, pathetic, hypocritical retards.

But that was only the beginning; she began to recall what he had told her on their first horrible date, how he had lost jobs, had his school exams unfairly downgraded, been threatened, abused and physically attacked, and all the while having to deal with a mentally ill mother who had caused him no end of grief. How the Ushers had done to him exactly what they had done to her, getting their show-business loser/puppets, pseudo-rock stars and actors to mock him in their movies and song lyrics; how they had mocked him in newspaper comic strips, advertisements, the labels on the products they produced and sold in their stores; they had even depicted him fictitiously in best-selling novels that were pure trash, but were nevertheless extremely popular with the moronic UFS public. They had attempted to turn him into some kind of a national joke, and in spite of his many virtues and talents, had almost succeeded. She found herself wondering why he had never attempted suicide in his despair.

Katrina snapped out of her reminiscence and quickly sat upright in her bed. The word suicide was resounding through her mind, louder and louder. The expression on Carlos' face just before he turned and walked out of her room flashed through her mind... what might he do to himself now that he had lost his one and only love? He might do something drastic, something terrible -- something that couldn't be undone!

But it was not only Carlos' state of mind that concerned her; she was worried about herself as well. What was going to become of her, with her closest ally gone out of her life and an army of mean and powerful enemies closing in from all sides? How was she to cope with it? What might she do to herself?

She remembered her sad descent into depression, and then madness; now she realized that it had been caused by intense loneliness, her tragic failure to find anyone she could trust, confide in, share her innermost thoughts with, and how she had been in denial of what was happening to her. It was Carlos that had lifted her out of that depression, not Jacob Rosenberg with his movie mogul friends; she now realized how empty her life really had been without Carlos. She had been deluding herself that everything would be alright after she became a movie star, but now she saw the truth clearly. Her career meant nothing; it would not sustain her happiness, and she would plunge back into despair, with nothing to grab onto this time. Katrina suddenly realized that she was about to lose the best thing she had ever had -- the only true joy she had ever known.

But worse... Carlos might not just contemplate suicide, at least not right away. She knew how he had handled his depression in the past, by turning to drugs and masturbation; but now that he was famous, there would surely be a profusion of opportunistic sluts just lining up to offer him sex. She felt sure that Carlos would not find relief in such low company, just as she had not found relief in any of the testosterone-charged idiots she had dated -- he was too much like herself. But that would be after the fact, after he had indulged himself, debauched himself trying to forget her. She knew that she could not just sit there and let such a terrible thing happen.

Katrina jumped up from her bed. She was not going to sit idle and wait for the worst to happen to Carlos. She had to at least make an attempt to find him and try one last time to make him understand, make him realize what was going to happen to him. Grabbing her purse and car keys from the dresser, she headed for the bedroom door. He couldn't have gone far; he had commitments, responsibilities, and would probably seek rooms somewhere close by now that he had some money in his pocket. He hadn't eaten breakfast; he might go to a local restaurant for lunch. She would search far and wide to find him; she would leave no stone unturned. Throwing open her door, she began to run down the long, wide hall to the stairway.

Halfway to the stairs, Katrina suddenly remembered hearing on the morning news that there was a large swell occuring -- the surf was up. She knew where he would most likely go -- to Westview Beach to check the ocean waves.

Katrina turned around and sprinted back down the hall to her bedroom again. Running to her dresser, she pulled open the bottom drawers and grabbed a bathing suit and a pretty pair of sandals. Then she bolted back down the hall to the stairway -- like a tigress pursuing its prey. Bounding down the stairs, she began to feel rejuvenated, hopeful... and determined. She was going to find Carlos wherever he was and try again to make him see things more clearly.

If there was one thing Katrina was not, it was a quitter.

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Copyright 2020 by Charles Adrian Trevino.