Some notes

 December

Due Date: 31/3/23

Genre: TBC

I

When she woke up the silence was gone, replaced instead by loud pulsing noises. They travelled through the walls and hit her squarely between the eyes. She blinked. One blink at time she though. Each  a deliberate act of manifestation as she wished the sounds away. The same deliberation she had had last night as she had peeled off each item of clothing from her body. First to go was the t-shirt her mother had given her in one of those acts of generosity that her mother was wont to have. The acts were not commonplace, no her everyday acts of were reserved for her grandkids. There was barely ever anything left for the mothers of those children.

“Oh, take this.” It wasn’t a request. The Oh delivered in a flat insistence that brooked no argument. Not that she would have said no. That would have led to an argument. An argument she would surely lose. For what could she say? That her mother’s clothes had no place on her body? Or perhaps she would tell her flat out, “ I can’t wear this anywhere” Or “ The kids…” Surely the truth would be met with understanding. She sighed, even after all these years she a mother of 3 could not and would not say no to her mother. She was ashamed of her weakness. 

“O, zve,” take this . The command was still there, now laced with impatience, caramel-coloured hand held out,her fingers shaking the snow white t-shirt in her face.

Anna flinched.

“No thanks,”she could say, hand held up and head shaking vigorously (and forcefully—she would need to work on this). She would move around her mother and walk out of her room, assured that the conversation was closed and that she did not have to take any of her mother’s unwanted property. 

Anna never stopped to wonder where the overwhelming urge to always say yes came from, even at her own peril (for perish she did). In fact, Anna wondered about exactly nothing. Taking comfort in the certainty that life was better lived when you accepted everything as it presented.. A two-dimensional stream of lives encountered, one after the other in a linear progression to the unknown. The unknown. A terrible place that existed just out of reach, it may have been two minutes or perhaps two hours away. She could not contemplate that far; bad things happened when she did. 

Her thoughts turned back to the t-shirt. She had reached her hand across the wide-open suitcase. A gracious smile plastered on her face. She wondered if her mother saw through her and chose to ignore it. She had always seen through her, noticing when she lied and when she told the truth. When she was in pain and when she was sick. Over the years, Anna had practised hiding from her. Mimicking emotions and expressions masking what she felt. It worked when she walked out into the world and faced the others. But the others were not her She always knew.

“Thank you she mumbled. Not sure it fits, but that doesn’t matter I could always sleep in it.” She said cheerfully, throwing the t-shirt over her shoulder. Their eyes had locked for a beat, then another. 

”Very good.” Her mother had smiled, nodded, and turned to hunch over the suitcase. Resuming the task of carefully transferring the rest of her clothing into the empty shelves of the second bedroom. She need not have bothered they would be leaving for Johannesburg. All her tidying away would need to be undone. Anna did not say anything, watching silently as Mama continued. One creamy blouse followed another until the little stack of blouses in the suitcase disappeared. Then the skirts, there would be no pants and trousers. These were unsuitable. Meticulously ironed skirts briskly shaken to restore their shape and hun in quick succession in the wardrobe. They hung there an array of white, cream, and yellow. Everything her mother owned was a variation of white. Exceptions were made for the right shade of yellow of course, but nothing else to distract from the purity of who she was. Yellow reflected good cheer and joy, and so was let in. But not too much. One could never be too happy.

The noises were getting worse. No longer pulsing but screeching at her door. The kids were up and had been for an hour already. She checked her watch, the screen lighting brightly, too bright for comfort. It was just after 7. She needed another hour. Enough time for all the sleep to work through her, she would not get it. Instead the triplets would eventually make their way into the bedroom tired of trying to get her attention from wherever they were. She sighed and got up. First cereal, she would make oats. Then eggs and toast. She could have insisted on their feeding themselves but she was awake now. Today was the first day of the holidays and she would make it the “Greatest holiday ever!” A title reserved for each successive holiday, kids were so easy to please. Adult’s on the hand, she glanced at her husband still happily snoring. He would sleep through it all.