I went back to the kitchen and looked at the damage.

It was as though someone had set off a bomb and then finished destroying the place by hand.

I took a deep breath, fighting back the tears.

"Why, Whisper?"

.

There was no answer.

I didn't expect there to be.

.

"Why would you do this to me?"

.

I went to the basement and got some empty boxes and packing tape. My workshop was a complete mess, but I managed to find what I needed.

Garbage bags were not going to work, not that it would have made any difference, anyway. The bags were all torn to pieces.

I decided I would simply sweep up all the broken glass and wasted food and shovel it in boxes. There was no use even searching through the mess.

I would just replace everything.

.

As I walked back into the kitchen, I remembered my cats. As I cleaned up, I did find a couple cans of food, that were only dented. At least they would have something to eat. I didn't call them immediately, because I did not want them walking through all the broken glass and such.

I just hoped that they were still in the house.

.

I had just put the last shovelful of garbage in a box, when I saw them both, gingerly walking up the hallway.

I called out to them and they came running.

It felt good to have them with me. I picked each one up and kissed their heads and held them for a moment.

.

"You guys must have been terrified," I comforted them, as I scooped their food in their dented bowls.

I petted them as they ate.

"I promise I will get you both some treats, as soon as I get this mess cleaned up. Maybe even a nice steak, rare, just as you like it."

I poured them some water in a slightly crushed plastic container and went back to work.

.

I had the kitchen pretty much cleaned up, except for washing the floor. I decided that could wait.

"I might even bring in some people from the village to help," I muttered to myself.

I looked at the damaged kitchen cupboards. I decided that I would wait until Bobby and Jessie came back to do the repairs. No one else would understand what had happened.

.

As I brought the last box of garbage, from the kitchen, outside, to the veranda, I found a can of beer. It had rolled to a corner and was under a coat that I moved.

As soon as I broke the seal on the can, it sprayed all over me and the walls, but at this point, I did not even care. The beer was piss warm, but tasted good.

I finished it, crushed the can and threw it in a box.

.

I took a deep breath and headed to the living room. It was a complete mess.

.

Every book was pulled from the shelves and lay in heaps on the floor. Unbelievably, only a couple were damaged. I found it a little strange that she had not destroyed the books, as well, but I attributed it to her love of reading and maybe somehow, in her fury, she had the where with all, not to destroy.

The record albums were much the same. Very few seemed to be damaged, but a large amount were out of their jackets and tossed around.

I knew it would take many hours to get them all back in the right jackets, so I simply picked up the albums and jackets and put them back on the shelves. I would sort through everything at a later date.

The stereos were all destroyed, smashed against the opposite wall and laying, in pieces, on the floor, among pictures and other assorted trinkets that I had purchased.

.

All the furniture was overturned, end tables and lamps were smashed and even the living room window had a large crack in one corner, where something hurled, had struck it.

The curtains were ripped from the window and stuffed into the fireplace, along with other flammables. I gasped when I saw that.

.

"Surely, you were not thinking of starting a fire."

A sick feeling came over me, as I imagined that the fire would have destroyed my house, as the huge pile of things stuffed into the fireplace would have certainly caught fire to other things in the house.

.

After somewhat cleaning up the living room, I decided to walk through the rest of the house. I was already tired and I knew there was no way I would finish cleaning up that day.

Every room was the same.

.

All the closets were stripped of clothes and they were strewn all over the floor. Some pieces were torn, but for the most, the clothes were not damaged.

Bureau drawers were pulled out and their contents tossed around the room. Some drawers broken, as they were thrown against walls.

Every piece of furniture was knocked over.

Pictures knocked off the wall. Lamps broken.

Every wall had dents and holes in them.

.

It seemed the further I went into the house, the least the damage was.

"You must have started in the kitchen and worked your way back," I decided, aloud.

"I guess you were a little tired, once you got back here."

.

I sat on my bed for a moment and looked around.

"I still don't know why you did this, Whisper."

Inside, I hoped that someone had broken into my house, but I knew that was not the case. I knew Whisper was the culprit. I just had no idea why.

I knew she was upset about Evangeline, but I never expected for a moment that she would go to this extreme.

.

I slowly got off the bed. There was still one more room to check out. The one room that could be the most expensive to replace.

.

I slowly went downstairs to the basement.

I opened the door to the recording studio. I took a deep breath and turned on the light, closing my eyes, as I did so.

Slowly I opened them.

.

The recording studio was exactly as I had left it. I had hoped that Whisper's love of music, would tame the fury she was having. It seemed to had that exact effect.

.

Now another emotion overtook me.

I screamed at the top of my lungs. I was so mad. I don't think I was ever so mad in all my life.

Mad at Whisper, but also mad at myself. Although I had no idea why.

Somehow, I was starting to blame the situation on me, even though I knew that was ridiculous.

.

I sat on the floor of the recording studio and I cried.

I couldn't stop. I felt like the one person in the world that I loved more than anything, had betrayed me.

.

"Why Whisper?

Why would you do this?

I love you more than life itself. I would never put you aside.

I just needed time."

I wiped my eyes and slowly got to my feet.

"I love Evangeline, I do, but I love you too. You are my daughter. Why would you ever think I would put anyone before you?"

.

I screamed again, but this was more a scream of pain. I was dying inside.

"I was going to tell her about you, but honey, I needed time.

She is not like Jessie and Bobby. She doesn't even suspect someone like you."

I sat on a stool, near the drum kit.

"Now what do I do?

She probably thinks I'm some kind of crazy idiot. I've blown it. Just like with Sheila."

.

I wiped my eyes on the edge of my shirt and took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"I wouldn't blame her if she never ever came back.

I know I wouldn't, if I were her. She was married to one freak. Why the hell would she want another one?"

.

There was a refrigerator in the recording studio. It was full of beer. I took a six pack and sat on the piano bench.

"Why Whisper?"

I took a large mouthful of beer. It tasted good.

"Now, again, I have no one."

I finished the beer and threw the can at the nearest wall.

.

I decided the best thing to do was simply drink myself into a stupor.

Perhaps in the morning, things would look clearer.