HURTFUL LUSTS

                                                                                [ I ]

"Esther, get out the front door now..." she said, but instead of hearing the voice of a mother, I heard that of a stranger. I pressed my lips against the glass door for warmth and gently caressed the tiny space on the side of the locks like I would a mother's arm. I felt so much love by the door side and I didn't even know why. But I was soon to realize that love, no matter how beautiful, came with its own imperfection. 

"Whack!" went the door, as its full weight crashed my fingers. I gave out a deafening shriek!

"Diana!” I heard the name that was called whenever I had to be "taken care of".

 As for the voice that yelled the name, she never lifted her weight from the chair nor the laptop at this time of the morning, she never lifted a finger to do anything except to get her own cup of coffee, and most especially, she never handled the nasty bits, Diana did! So she ordered,

"Bandage her fingers and get her to sleep. I need some quiet..."

"Yes Mum..."

"And fix something for Robert. I might be away when he comes."

"Yes mum…”

 Diana as usual, had a way of connecting with me when I needed it most.  She prayed, she sang, she looked me in the eyes and spoke in a low soft tune and that was enough to put me to rest.

 At age six, I already knew that in a house enveloped by cold emotions, sleep was the warmest place. It was not only by my own experience but also by observing “my Dad”. The one who was addressed by "mum" as "Robert". For the last few weeks since Dad stepped foot in the house, all he did was hide under the canopy of sleep. He had ceased to exist in the house. The lady called "mum" had succeeded in pushing him into none existence like she did everyone else. So, after he dropped his files and gobbled down his Potato salad, all “Dad” did was coil towards the side of the big bed in my room and sleep. He had found his escape routine like each one of us in the house. 

 Just when I was getting used to “Dad`s” presence in my big room, our read-aloud moments of bed time Stories and  crazy mimicking of funny characters before bedtime, something seemed to be wrong and it looked like that privilege was soon to be forbidden; Diana as usual had to execute the unpleasant task.

"Uncle Robert...Mum says you should stay out of Esther's room from now on"

We both looked up at her. 

"What are you saying? Esther is my daughter..."” Dad” retorted.

"She says for reasons best known to her Sir..."

Diana took some sort of a shoddy bow and whisked off in a mission accomplished fashion. “Dad” sat there staring at me, then at the door hinge.  I stared too. 

Was he supposed to be my father? I stared again...

 A six year old may indeed be logically blind to the intricacies of human ties but obviously not "color blind". He was as black as charcoal, while I was something more like a snowball. There was no streak of him in me as far as I could see, i observed as he left my room.

"... Could you be kind enough to clarify the meaning of the message you left with Diana?" “Dad” queried as soon as the front door flung open. He was tensed and upset, perhaps more than his voice could portray.  I heard the sound of keys drop on the table.

This was followed by a disturbing silence which echoed through the living room doors. Then, went the smooth-flurry-crackly sound of liquid flowing from bottle into glass. The lady called "mum" spoke up only after savoring a sip of her expensive wine. 

"I'm taking my precautions..."  

"You're taking your precautions..."

"With all that I hear on the news of unscrupulous men defiling teenagers and babies, I have to protect my little girl..."

"From me, you mean..." “Dad” flared up. "You are so ungrateful...in fact forgetful. Spare me the arduous task of reminding you, Graciela, of the state you were in when i first met you. Family chaos, drug dealing Exes, debt...  But i stuck my neck out for you and the baby. I found you two a home, and since then i kept fighting for more. I traveled out of the country and worked myself into a stupor, i kept sending money and paying for the apartment and the baby's needs...and this is how you repay me!

Since my accident occurred you have despised my very being. I see it in your eyes every day. I see it in the cold Potato salad you serve me, in the cold shoulder you give me at night, in the way you busy yourself with your  ”Editor in Chief” and “Communication Expert”  post ...

So tell me, are you disgusted that i l lost my job or that i went through a spine surgery  or that i returned home to start from scratch as a "miserable part time teacher", which one? ... I’m talking to you…" 

 "I am not in the mood for useless arguments..." "Mum" retorted. "You seem to have lost track of everything You've lost track of the times, you've lost track of the changes,...i mean you should listen to yourself, talking about "the baby's needs" and "paying for the apartment"...Esther is no longer a baby and this is certainly not the apartment you "used to pay for" is it? Times have changed Robert."

The persistent whizzing sound of "mum's" cell phone on the dining table pierced through the heated exchange.
"I have worked myself to the bone to get to where i am " She said, "...and no one will take that away from me, not even you Robert!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, you should give me some credit. Before you left the country i was just a miserable receptionist at a fancy Lebanese restaurant. I acknowledge that was with your help, but the truth is, I pressed on from there and despised the odds and made my way through the storms. I didn't just sit waiting for your return …Or your cheques, i looked for avenues and contacts and openings of all kinds.  I did all that by myself!  If you cannot handle that, there's the door.

In any case, we have come to the cross road and i really can't keep pretending. We have to call it quits."  

 “Dad" was dumb-founded.

"For six years i took care of you  Graciela and covered for your past shame, and that made me "Esther's Dad". But now that the difficult days are over for you, you call me a pedophile, and throw me out of your life like a dog! After just six weeks…six weeks after my return, you just want to get rid of me. Despite all the money and time, ... You are selfish Graciela, you are so…

"Arggh, get your hands off me…i said...get..." The lady called "mum" clenched her teeth in anguish but “Dad” was determined to wring her neck off.  She managed to free herself from his grip, gave him a left-right slap and yelled "Diana!!"

"Get Robert's belongings out of this house! He's leaving! "

…And indeed “Dad” left. He left with glassy eyes, trembling hands and a stiff back, a total reflection of his misery and pain.  

                                                                        [ II ]

“Dad’s” departure seemed to be the key that opened all the magic doors for "mum". A month or so after “Dad” was banished from the house, i started to feel "mum" rise up the social ladder. 

I remember one evening Diana and i sat on the living room couch for hours, watching her interview on national TV. She was being interviewed for a position in the Foreign Affairs Ministry. It looked big and plush and transforming. I remember her polished accent and new hairdo. I remember her reference to her own life experience as a “single mum”, and I remember the many phone-INS that came, affirming her as a woman with great vision, responsibility, and sense of sacrifice…. I dozed off as i she lisped her responses to comments on TV.  It was all very foreign to me. 

 For a week, I was left alone at home with Diana and that was the closest to a mother`s warmth I had felt in a long time: the freedom to play, the unconditional love and the firm support she showed me was incredible.
Then one evening as I was about to say Grace for the evening meal with Diana, “mum” came back home with a grown up man who had grey beard and curly hair.

“Esther!!  my little bunny! How I missed you!” She chimed,  expressing more excitement and affection towards me than i had ever seen. 
 “Come meet Dr. Crudholph” she said, shoving my tiny fingers into his rough palms, whilst signaling Diana to clear up the table and lay a new one for our new guest.  I just stared at him and at the gifts that had been spread on the table for me. I did not like him and Diana seemed to have her own reservations too, but we had no option but to co-habit with this strange man from evening to evening.

Unlike with “Dad”, “mum” ordered Diana to fix special meals for this Dr. Crudolph. She gave special instructions like “the Veggies should not be overcooked” and “the chicken should be golden brown”. She got up early at about five to fix him a quick breakfast and at odd hours like 2pm, or 4pm, the sound of the shower in the bathroom or the TV in the living room could be heard just as in daytime. The lady called “mum”, was surprisingly unperturbed by Dr. Crudolph`s odd routine.

I on the other hand was getting uncomfortable and constantly startled by his unannounced visits to my room when no one was watching. 

On one odd weekend, when Diana had been sent on an errand by this same Dr Crudolph in the cold of the night, I was startled to find him stroking my legs.

“You look so much like your mum” was all I remember him saying, and then yanking off my night clothes, with his left hand covering my mouth, he began to molest me. He abused me till my screams vibrated in the walls of my throat and blood gushed out from the walls of my flesh. It was a total nightmare in just one second of a night!  I thought I was going to die and every look I gave him was a silent plea for mercy.

Diana`s scream! That was what saved my life. The Beast headed for the bathroom after roaring a ferocious warning in Diana`s direction 

“Don`t you dare! Don`t even try… to tell….” 

 

 The panting prey that I was, i just wept in Diana`s arms all the way to the bathroom to be cleaned up, frightened to death by the Beast`s sinister presence. After some hot soup and syrup to “calm the pain”, Diana sat by my bed, slightly trembling. She looked at me and I saw in her eyes, shadows of fear that should have been in mine. She looked like the victim and I, the object that could bring about her fall.

“Sleep” she said, and before I could make sense out of those words, she was gone from the side of my bed.

.....Please Continue with HURTFUL LUSTS [ 2 ]