Thursday, 25 June 2009

  • His Mother

    It was a day that moved in slow motion.

    The breeze was still, barely touching the heavy heat. Not even the birds stirred in the trees, sending a peaceful quiet that settled in around us. It was the perfect day to sleep in the hammock under the shade of the tulip tree, but no one did. I swatted at the gnats buzzing around my face, wishing it was breezier to keep the microscopic pests at home.

    I wished that the breeze was enough reason for me to stay home, too.

    My legs stuck to the bench in the sticky humidity. Pulling myself from the seat like a band-aid, I rose ever so gently to step out into the sunlight. I walked alone until I was out of sight, partly to see if anyone would follow me but mostly to escape their hovering presence. No one had spoken a word to me since that morning.

    That morning, they pulled me out of bed at 11:30 where I had been lying since 8:00 yesterday. I don’t remember moving. My back was stiff like I hadn’t moved in days. They prodded and baby-talked me until I shrugged and let them clean me up.

    It was strange that I felt no shame as they peeled the sweat-soaked clothes off of me and turned on the shower. I don’t even remember the shower. I just remember getting out and feeling clean… not that feeling clean mattered right then. I felt no shame as they dressed me, brushed my hair, put on my deodorant. I felt nothing as they placed dish after dish in front of me and waited, stared at me, hoped I would eat.

    Maybe toast doesn’t sound good right now? How about watermelon? Some apple slices? What about a candy bar? A peanut butter sandwich?

    I got up from the table without touching a thing and sat outside on the porch. Eventually they followed me out and sat there with me. No one spoke a word. My mother stared at me, studied me. As if her staring could somehow ease the pain inside. As if she could absorb some of it and relieve me. I walked around the house and sat down in a corner where they couldn’t see me from the windows.

    Life was going on. All around me life continued. A tiny ant crawled over my bare foot. The corn was getting tall in the field. A blue jay landed on the fence post and stared at me through a wide eye. And the gnats were back. I sat there for what seemed like a year, letting the world move around me, letting myself become a stump, a tree, another part of the yard. Nothing stopped for me.

    I walked back around to the porch, but everyone had gone inside to hide from the humidity. The blue pool water rippled ever so slightly in the breeze. It was quiet there. And cool. I stepped down into a warm water that washed the dirt and grass from my feet. Sweat was running down my scalp through my hair, so I got in even deeper until the bottom of my shorts was wet.

    Were they still watching me? I couldn’t see anyone peering through the windows, so I went in even farther until the water was up to my waist. Water seems to wash away more than dirt for me, but today it only brought back memories. I sunk down until it splashed up on my neck. I felt alone. So alone that no one would or could ever come for me. Buried so far inside myself, no one could pull me out. No one can love me anymore.

    I floated on my back in the water, holding my breath as I listened to the blood rushing in my ears under the water. The sky was cloudless and open and… endless.

    When my lungs burned for more air, I exhaled. The water covered my face as I sunk into the water and the sky became a ripply blue so far away. My lungs have never hurt so badly. I ached for air, but my limbs did not fight. My arms floated above me as I sunk to the bottom. I didn’t want to see the blue sky. Blue sky is for those alive. I closed my eyes and waited.

    When my body started twitching, starving for air, I got ready to gulp the pool water down into my burning lungs. I wouldn’t see the worthless blue sky again.

    As soon as I opened my mouth, someone took my arm and yanked me to the surface. My head hit the concrete hard. I vomited water. I remember groaning as I opened my eyes to a blurry but familiar face.

    “What were you thinking?” Her eyes were bright red and filled with tears. “I’m not losing you both. He loved you and he wanted you to live. My son wanted you to live.”

    She willed me to live. And I did.

  • Choose Identity

  • Give eProps (?)

  • New! You can now edit your comments for 15 minutes after submitting.

Who recommended?