Chapter 7
A week has almost gone by and Mommy is still unstable but she had to go to work. She bathed and put her hair in curlers and while waiting for her hair to dry, she got dressed and put on makeup. All the cover up makeup and the extra effort with all the pain is getting too much for her. She took the hairdryer and blew it directly onto the curlers to make sure that her hair was dry before taking it out one by one. The setting of her hair took approximately ten to fifteen minutes. Then the tin of Jane Seymour set two hairspray came out. Mommy always says that the first impression lasts the longest. She says that when you are in the street, you need to be at your neatest every day. Mommy is the neatest person I know. She never has a hair out of place and then her makeup is done to perfection every time. Her uniform is brilliant sparkling white and her shoes are super clean. It always looks as if it was bought the same day. My mother’s hair is long and light auburn of colour. Beautiful just as she is. Daddy is still upset so that basically means that mommy either has to take the bus to work or make her own arrangements. Luckily for my mommy, it was the same week as Betty’s nightshift. Her husband picks mommy up and takes her to work. He was going there anyway so it was not out of his way and he always helped where he could. I hear my father’s car turn the corner and my stomach knots immediately. This is so intense. Abby runs to the room just to make sure she is out of the way. It is as if everyone scatters to their little safe havens. This is not what a home should be like. We should be able to sit in one room as a family without any snares of any sort. The gate opens and the silence in the house is deafening. I was still sitting in my mother’s room, watching her get ready for work. I heard the TV was on but that was only because I was watching. The back door opened and I just had a feeling that he was not in a very bad mood. I walked out of my mother’s room towards the kitchen. He stood there for a moment and looked at me, “Good afternoon Gabby.” he said with a smile on his face. I know he was still a bit angry because his lips are pulled stiff. Maybe, just maybe I would change his mind and take mommy to work this evening. I enjoy riding along even though they don’t say a word to each other, I just wanted to go out and see the building mommy works in. I would sing all the way there and all the way and sometimes my daddy would even request a specific song. I would sing so that I can forget of what happened to me in the bathroom. Just the thought of it makes me sick. “Jesus, please just help me forget it, please Jesus.” is all that I could think of while singing the gospel hymns? A falling spoon brought me back to reality. Martha was taking out the crockery and cutlery and by accident dropped the spoon. Daddy walked through to his room and Martha dished up so that we all could eat before mommy leaves for work. Daddy sits in his chair in the corner of the lounge. Nobody ever dares to sit there when he is home. That is his chair and he makes it known to whoever is sitting in his chair. He watches my mommy as she leaves. I watch him so intensely; I can hear how he grinds his teeth when she gets into Wesley’s car. You can see his jaw move backward and forward. I don’t know what he is thinking when he does that but then softly he says “Bitch”. I know that was meant for my mommy. It is now Thursday and they are still not talking to each other. They talk to each other through us. They involve us as children in their grownup fights. They can sit in one room where we are and my mother will say something and he will say, while my mother is right there: Tell your mother… You don’t want to disobey your father nor humiliate your mother or let either of them feel like you are taking sides. You just want to watch TV and let them get on with their fight. Why drag me in I always ask myself. What is the point in that? They made me feel guilty, they made me feel as if it was my fault and to top it all off, they really made me feel worthless. I feel so worthless after the bathroom thing. I feel so dirty, so helpless and I have no one to talk to. Whom can I share my pain with? I bet they won’t even believe me so what is the actual use. Who would believe a small little girl as me? I will just pray for this horrible feeling to go away and for Jesus to cleanse me. I heard my mother scream and ran to her room. There my father was. He pulled her clean uniform off the hanger and trampled on them shouting at her “You will not go to work with that bastard, you bitch!” I just stood in front of my mother trying to keep him away from her. I know that he will give me one push and I will land on my bum, but I know he won’t push me. He walked out of the room as if nothing happened and whistled his way to his favorite seat in the lounge. Who else would help my mother get to work but Wesley? He was her only hope in not getting fired. I heard a hooter and told my mom that her lift was here. My daddy does not like Wesley and this also added fury to their ongoing fight. I don’t understand why he should be so angry; after all, he does not want to take my mother to work. My mother walked out the front door and I stood there waving goodbye and wishing my mother a good night’s work. When I returned back into the house, my daddy asked; “who took your mother to work?” Knowing that my mommy has to get to work I lied and said it was someone else. I lied because I had to. My father got up just in time to see the back of the Wesley’s car. What I expected next changed my entire thought pattern. He walked to me and slapped me through my mouth. “Why did you lie to me?” he yelled. I tried to answer but the disappointment was more that the bleeding lip. I stood there with tears in my eyes and all that came out was “I don’t know.” My daddy broke my heart because once again I was pulled in their fight and I had to accept it. I lied, I know that was wrong, but I lied with good intention. I did not lie to him to cause a fight between my parents. I lied to try to make peace between them. I lied to protect my mother from his evil claws and I lied to keep him calm. All of this is null and void. He stood there after realizing what he did, but it was too late. It is all too late to take it back, too late to stop himself from being judged by others and too late to avoid utter heartfelt disappointment. I can’t breathe. Tears rolling down my face staring at him and eventually breaking down and walking to my room is all I could do.