Monday, July 11, 2011
Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 17 Leaving Home
Laura’s Mother bounds around the corner as we walk into the living room. She is in her late 40’s, soft brown curly hair that is gently graying. Her face is slightly hidden behind a pair of oval glasses; her eyes immediately crinkle at the corners when she smiles. “Hello!” she yells, throwing her arms around me. She pulls me in close as she hugs then with both arms then shoots me back to standing in front of her.
“You must be Geoff,” she says cocking her head to one side. She has now taken my hands, one in each of hers. “I am,” I say. “You are,” she says giggling. Her head is still tilted to one side. We stand there staring at each other, she bobs her head as if she got it stuck when she nodded and now it is skipping like a record.
“Well,” she says and then sighs loudly. She is trying to tell me that she understands everything without actually telling me. I feel the therapist in her just busting at the seams. She shakes her head again, turns me towards the door and wraps her arms around my shoulder. She then brings me into an embrace; my face is smushed against hers. Laura’s Mother now begins to sob. It feels as if she is reliving the pain that happens when someone steals your baby. Her sobs become guttural cries but she is trying not to make a sound. I want to run for my life.
I look out of the corner of my eye at Laura. She seems oblivious to what’s going on; something tells me that this is normal for this house. Slowly I am being forced to walk forward by Laura’s Mother; she is leading me back into the kitchen. She grabs a hand towel on her way by and blows her nose in it.
Laura follows behind me and isn’t really paying that much attention to what’s going on. Laura’s Mother gently pushes me down to sitting on a kitchen chair. She walks over to the cabinets, opens them and asks me “If she can fix me a snack.”
Boomer walks over and pushes her elbow up with his head. She smiles a meek smile at him and bursts back into tears. “We’re having a casserole,” she says glancing back over her shoulder at me. ‘Nice,” I say. I am really wondering what kind of drugs the casserole will be laced with. Forgive me but I think Laura’s Mother is a woman on the edge, the edge of sanity, the edge of reality and The Edge of Night.
I resist the urge to run again, it is a strong one in me but I need to hold on. Unfortunately, I have nowhere to run. This is it, at least for tonight.
Holding onto two of the cabinets she begins to open and close them, slowly at first and then faster and faster. Laura walks through the kitchen and starts to go up the stairs. “I’m going to take a shower,” she yells without looking back. As she walks up the stairs she unbuttons her shirt and pushes it off her shoulders.
I stare up the stairs after her; she is now standing in a white bra and pants. She leans forward unbuttons her pants and slides them to her ankles. Her Mother is still opening and closing the cabinets.
To be continued……….
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.