ROBERT B. TURK
Father snipped the scissors a few times making sure they were working well and stepped across the room to where Mother sat clutching a mirror. She sat in one of the uncomfortable breakfast-table chairs without armrests making small noises, which the rest of us interpreted as nervous chatter. I was drinking a glass of milk which I drained off in two last large gulps and then I wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt. I tried to hold her hand but she wouldn't let go of the mirror. My older brother Johnny remained motionless in the living room, ignoring Mother, and listening to the radio. I looked at her; her blue eyes big and wild, exaggerated by the enormous bandage which had been on her nose for weeks.
Father spoke unusually quiet to Mother as he felt around the bandage with his left hand, still snipping the scissors before her eyes: "Can you feel that? Does it hurt?" Mother sat rigid in the chair, watching Father's broad smiling face and listening to the sound of the scissors. "Yes…No…" I stood behind her, eager to see her without the huge bandage. We were all excited. Baby Susie began to squeak.
The surgical tape came off easily enough, but some blood had clotted on the bridge of her nose and Father wanted to be careful. He said "Ah…hah…All…right!" and it was gone.
Mother smiled and raised the mirror to her face. She was understandably more excited than the rest of us to see the bandage gone. Baby Susie slobbered down her shirt and I reached across the table to wipe her off with a paper napkin. Mother's voice sounded of disappointment, "Well…I can't really tell a difference."
"Well, Marilyn, the further you get away from it the more you can tell." He took a few paces back into the living room and stumbled into the couch. "Yeah, you can tell from over here." Mother turned to me. "Jeff?"
I threw the napkin in the trash can, then took a good look at my mother's new nose. It looked blue, and a little bit bigger than it had before. For a moment, I thought I should say "It looks blue!" but I thought better and said "Mom, you're still pretty to me…even prettier!" She smiled, her eyes narrowed, and she reached to me. I hugged her, making sure not to touch her big blue nose.
Johnny called from the living room: "Hey, Blue-nose! Can we have pizza again tonight?" Father thumped the crown of his head with his heavy University class ring, which produced a 'bonk!' sound like banging on a broken old drum. "Hey!" he yelled. Mother looked at Johnny, then at Father. Her eyes narrowed more. "Sure, go ahead and call for one." Baby Susie said "Momma…" We all looked at her, because she had never used anyone's name since she'd begun talking last month. She talked about the dog, Kanta, calling her "Dog." Baby Susie would say "Dog…Dog…Dog…" and point at the dog, then fall asleep.
Mother looked in the mirror again. She asked "What's he mean by blue-nose?" I looked at Father and neither of us said anything. We watched her. Finally, she said, "Yes, it does look a little tender…" and Father quickly agreed, further suggesting that Mother should take a nap.
She stood up. We all watched her round the corner and slip down the hallway; we were relieved that she was not shocked by the swelling of her nose. I asked my Father if she was all right, but he seemed to be thinking; his eyes were closed tight - causing a large new wrinkle on his forehead.
"I had better keep an eye on her for now. John, order the damn pizza. Jeffrey, watch after the baby." He walked across the room towards their bedroom, but Mother was back and she looked upset again.
"Hey, you guys…I need your support through this, this thing. Thanks. And I think the swelling will go down in a day or so…" Father approached her and escorted her back to the bedroom with his arm around her waist, almost guiding her.
I wanted to punch Johnny for upsetting her, but he was grown enough to give me a bad thrashing if I should try. Baby Susie made a sucking sound on the inside of her arm that sounded like fart. I decided to call for the pizza since by the time he would get around to calling the rest of us would be dead of starvation. He remained on the couch his feet propped up on the coffeetable, tapping his knees to the rhythm of the radio. His headed bobbed around the way a chicken's head moves as she scratches her way around a petting zoo. I ordered the pizza and then went to my room, having determined to write Mother a poem.
I folded a piece of red construction-paper in half and wrote with my big black felt-tipped pen:
"FOR MOM WHO I LOVE…"
then inside I wrote with a crayon:
"MOTHER YOU ARE VERY SPECIAL TO ME,
YOU ARE HAPPY AND HELPING AND VERY PRETTY,
AND I AM TELLING YOU THAT I LOVE YOU…"
Then I signed my name with a fountain pen and folded the paper in half. Lastly, I drew a daisy on the front. When I went to give the card to Mother their door was locked. I leaned against it and listened through the door, but I heard nothing. I knocked.
"Yes?" I heard her voice crack, as if she were sobbing.
"Mom, it's me-Jeff, can I come in?"
A moment later she opened the door and went in. She was wearing makeup now but I did not know why; she would not return to work any time soon and my parents rarely 'went out'. I knew she had been crying because her tears had streaked her mascara and caused it to run down her cheeks in ghoulish lines. I sat on the bed and she stood by the chest of drawers. Before I spoke she lit a cigarette and exhaled noisily. I had never seen my mother smoke before and II paused, watching the puff of her smoke drift towards the light on the ceiling. Then I managed to speak, asking "Mom, have you been crying?"
She looked at me. "Um, yes Jeffrey. I have been crying."
She paused and I handed her the card I had made for her. She looked at the front and exclaimed "I like that flower!" then she began to read it. I watched the tip of the cigarette stare at me. I recalled Halloween of the previous year, before the baby came, and Father friends from work had a costume party at our house. She dressed up as a belly dancer - a pregnant belly dancer - and when some of my father's friends encouraged her to dance, she blushed. Father was a pirate. The only time I've seen him that happy was when Baby Susie came home.
Mother put the card on the dresser, and sat next to me on the bed. She put both her arms around me and hugged on me with unprecedented vigor. "Thank you sweetie…" she whispered into my hair. I smelled the odor of the cigarette and it made my eyes water. Johnny stuck his head through the doorway and said "Pizza's here! Better move, 'cause Dad's almost finished with it already…and the baby is crying."
I followed Mother down the hallway to the livingroom, where Johnny and Father were eating the pizza on paper plates and drinking cokes. Baby Susie lay on the floor and whimpering quietly. Mother picked her up, asking "Is your diaper dirty Baby?" then she carried her over to the bassinet in the wet bar. I picked up one of the last pieces of pizza and was nearly done with it when I noticed the smell coming from the bassinet where Mother was changing Baby Susie's diaper.
"Uh-oh."
Johnny yelled over his shoulder "Hey! We're trying to eat dinner over here!"
Father grumbled "Shut up, boy…" spilling a mouthful of half-chewed pizza onto his lap. Mother carried the diaper across the room towards the kitchen, but she stopped, standing behind the couch she looked at the three of us and smiled towards me. She turned to Johnny, who was cramming the last piece of pizza into his mouth before either of us had had a second piece - and making horrible rude noises. She dropped the diaper onto his plate.
Johnny's eyes got wide, and he tried to spit out the food in his mouth once he saw the diaper's contents slip across the plate and onto his bluejeans. He threw the plate onto the tiled floor and ran for the bathroom. The rest of us laughed hysterically, even Mother who had been having such a bad day, what with the bruised nose and all. She walked around the couched, curtsied, and picked up the plate and threw the mess away in the garbage bag in the garage. She returned and dressed Baby Susie, then joined Father and me on the couch. Father was still chuckling and wiping tears from his eyes when Baby Susie said "J-J-Johnna." Mother corrected her patiently. "No baby, say Johnny. Johnny? Johnny."
Document Title: Stress Description: Another suburban story... Date Created: May 21, 1996 by: http://www.megalith.com/cgi-bin/newdoc For More Information See: index.html © May 21, 1996 Robert Turk
