Mr. Father &
Ripov
by Albert Russo
All births are to a certain
degree accidents. In Ripov's case it must have
been an earthquake, conceived as he probably was
during a tidal wave. Yet he survived relatively
unscathed. Freud took enough pains in describing
what we know as the Oedipus complex, so we shan't
dwell on it. Where Ripov was concerned, the
accent had to be stressed on the third syllable
of the Greek hero's name. For indeed, put in
front of Mr. Father, Ripov felt one huge sac of
... pus. No one really noticed it, but his
complexion would turn slightly yellow. And as if
this weren't sufficient, he'd be prey to vicious
attacks of pruriency, like a teenager who'd just
discovered his manlihood. With the difference
that Ripov had long lost his virginity: he was
over forty.
“Keep still when I
address you!” Mr. Father would summon him.
But Ripov had the jitters. You could almost hear
his bones rattle. In spite of the numerous
diagnoses to the contrary, Mr. Father believed
his son suffered from epilepsy. This is what
saved Ripov from being a victim of infanticide.
How many times Mr. Father would raise his fist,
shouting: “It's because you're not normal,
otherwise I'd twist that stupid neck of yours
with my bare hands!” To which he'd add such
niceties as: “epiperplex ... I'll episquash
you ... epiclod!” He would avoid the word: 'epileptic;'
it sounded too noble for his son.
But why this antagonism
between Mr. Father and a Ripov loved and
respected by his peers? Because Ripov wasn't a
girl and Mr. Father couldn't forgive nature for
having deprived him of a daughter. What irked Mr.
Father to no end was Ripov's physical resemblance
to him. He just couldn't bear to watch his
younger double breathe, let alone jitter. If
Ripov at least had blue eyes or, better still,
those of an albino! And why did he have to grow a
mustache too? The epischnook!
On the phone people would
constantly mistake one for the other. That son of
his even married a woman who looked like Mr.
Father's late wife. The nerve! When Ripov never
even had a sister. The daughter Mr. Father had
waited for in vain. And would you believe it,
Ripov begot a male child who was the spitting
image of Mr. Father. Mr.Father's only consolation
in this whole sickening affair was that he, Mr.
Father, was not an epileptic.
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