"Dis" Own

“I’ve already told you,” stated the woman in a tight but clear voice, “If you do that, I will disown you.”

I paused, my hand resting lightly on the spine of one of the books lining the shelf in front of me. My eyes glanced over the left, and then down to the floor where a female form was seated, leaning against a bookshelf. She appeared to be in her mid-50s. Her attire was conservative – khakis and a polo shirt – and her hair was short and gray. In no way did her appearance seem out of place in the Borders store. Her conversation, however, was another matter.

“No.” She continued. “No.”

This was certainly a titillating follow-up to the first statement, and I found myself trailing my hands over the books before me in a motion that could undoubtedly be recognized as “stalling.” “What,” I wondered, “Was this act that could lead to a disownment? And who might she be talking to?”

There are only so many sorts of relationships that can qualify for the “disowned” status. I ran through them in my head. Son, daughter… The list ran out, as I became distracted by the phrase itself and whether or not this woman was applying it properly. What does it mean to “disown”? Don’t you have to “own” something before you can “disown” it? If so, in how many situations can a person legally “own” another person? As far as I know, we’ve limited those opportunities considerably in this country. Perhaps I should bring this up to her? It seems – after all – that she is trying to make a big impact with her statement. What if the person listening on the other end has had the same thoughts that I’m having? Wouldn’t the efficacy of her threats be drastically reduced?

I pondered this for a bit. She should – perhaps – threaten to cut this person out of the will, or make it clear that she will never speak to them again. “Yes,” I thought to myself, “that seems much more logical.” I took another look at her to gauge her likely level of receptiveness. Hmmm. She seemed quite engaged in her conversation. Perhaps I should wait a bit…

With that thought, I turned my attention to my hands, which had – unbeknownst to me – been engaging in a bit of mischief. They had taken to pulling out the occasional book and holding it up in front of me, as if I were seriously considering it, before tucking it back unto the shelf. The wicked little things had been doing this with an extensive selection of books that appeared to be focused on serial killers and assorted murderers. This apparent fixation with this topic - combined with the undue attention that I had been paying to the woman on the floor - could not look good for me.

Quickly, I moved to the opposing bookshelf, which was filled with Christian literature. That should confuse any observers, I thought with satisfaction. For good measure, I picked up a particularly large and noticeable book with religious words emblazoned across the cover in vivid letters. This I held prominently in front of me as I attempted to reposition myself for optimal eavesdropping.

Unfortunately for me, the conversation did not seem to be progressing much further. I could only imagine that the person on the other end was feeling a bit “put out” by threats of disownment. Sigh. ‘Twas probably for the best, anyway, since I had already extended my “break” by quite a significant chunk of time.

As I wandered toward the front door, it occurred to me that I myself happened to “own” a number of creatures – furred and feathered – and could, therefore, choose to “disown” any one of them for any reason. I smiled to myself, pleased with the realization. “Inigo,” I imagined myself proclaiming later that day to a grouchy rabbit, “If you CHOOSE to swat at me again, I will disown you.”