Racy Redwood #6
“You know,
Marissa,
I wish I can show you
how your father looked like.
You know I don’t lie, right?
The truth is,
my sweetheart,
I burned
every single photo
I had of him.
Even those with me in it.
Or with other people.
I can’t even be bothered
with snipping him out…
Just burned all the photos in one shot.”
Betty spoke as if she was dispensing soup to the elderly patients in her ward.
Slowly. Gingerly. Carefully. With much compassion. Pausing after each mouthful. Checking carefully to see if the previous spoonful has already gone down well. Whether there was any wiping necessary. Whether everything has been taken in.
The pretty little girl looked back into Betty’s eyes. Eyes that spelled sadness. And the burrowed eyebrows gave her confusion away.
Betty picked up her cup of tea from the coffee table and stirred a few times more, even though there was no more sugar in need of stirring. She put it the teacup down, and reached out for Marissa’s hand.
“Marissa, my Sweetheart, I was only seventeen when I was pregnant with you. I lived in a small town in the suburbs where everybody knew everybody else. Which is a wonderful thing. Until something like that happened.”
Sigh. How am I going to expect Marissa to understand.
“Marissa, your father and I loved each other. But timing was all wrong. When I found out I was pregnant, your father was only nineteen and had received a prestigious scholarship in NYU. Marriage was out of the question. For him. He had fought a lifetime to get out of that small tall. So timing was bad. But I want to keep you, my dear. I did not want an abortion. And I knew Grandpa and Nana would be hopping mad. I thought they would kill me when they find out that I would be having my baby out of wedlock. And your father’s parents would probably insist he marry me. The way things would be done right in a small town, you know? And there would be chaos. And I loved your father. I wouldn't want to drag him down.”
Strangely this appears to be a bit easier than expected. Betty knew she would have to explain to Marissa one day eventually. Perhaps it's the way Marissa is listening intently and calmly, Betty felt as if she was telling someone else’s story. It seems a lot easier that way.
“So, when I was about 4 months pregnant, I decided I had to pack up and leave the town. Make things easier for your father, for everybody. Before everybody start noticing I was pregnant. So the very day after Grandpa and Nana have driven to visit my Cousin Nelly who just delivered a baby in the next town, I packed my bags. Without anyone knowing.”
Ok, now the memories are starting to come back and it starts to hurt again.
“You know, Lisa has been my best friend since childhood. Yeah, Lisa my superwoman-lawyer-friend, Lisa. She was driving me to the train station. She thought I should go see your father once last time. In case he wants me to stay. I didn't think things would change but I guess I wanted to believe in Lisa.”
The memories are flooding back now.
“But no, he didn’t change his mind. And he didn’t say a thing. I guess, I do remember how your father looked like after all, Marissa. He looked like a tree, a deeply-rooted tree for something not very tall, so rooted he can’t move, a tree in the middle of the road.”
“Marissa, my dear, the only picture I have in my head, is a man standing in the middle of the road outside his house, with his hands in his pockets, as if they would wave goodbye by themselves, if he didn’t keep them in. Even the two old trees we had known for all our lives were swaying in the wind, as if to say goodbye but he just stood there.”
“The sun was setting, and we should go soon to catch the night train. So I had to go. Did I tell you they say the sunset view in our town is legendary? Or so the folks there think anyway. They don’t travel very much I guess.”
“No, I didn't cry, Marissa. I was determined not to. I thought I should match the nonchalance I see in your father. But as we drove away, I looked behind through the back window of Lisa’s car, hoping to see your father wave once at least. Just once. Or perhaps running after the car, trying to stop me from leaving... I kept watching until I couldn't see him anymore. But as he became smaller and smaller... he remained stuck to the ground, with his hands were tucked away. Only the trees were waving.”
“I am sorry I burned all the photos away. But I love you, you know that, right?”
Marissa,
I wish I can show you
how your father looked like.
You know I don’t lie, right?
The truth is,
my sweetheart,
I burned
every single photo
I had of him.
Even those with me in it.
Or with other people.
I can’t even be bothered
with snipping him out…
Just burned all the photos in one shot.”
Betty spoke as if she was dispensing soup to the elderly patients in her ward.
Slowly. Gingerly. Carefully. With much compassion. Pausing after each mouthful. Checking carefully to see if the previous spoonful has already gone down well. Whether there was any wiping necessary. Whether everything has been taken in.
The pretty little girl looked back into Betty’s eyes. Eyes that spelled sadness. And the burrowed eyebrows gave her confusion away.
Betty picked up her cup of tea from the coffee table and stirred a few times more, even though there was no more sugar in need of stirring. She put it the teacup down, and reached out for Marissa’s hand.
“Marissa, my Sweetheart, I was only seventeen when I was pregnant with you. I lived in a small town in the suburbs where everybody knew everybody else. Which is a wonderful thing. Until something like that happened.”
Sigh. How am I going to expect Marissa to understand.
“Marissa, your father and I loved each other. But timing was all wrong. When I found out I was pregnant, your father was only nineteen and had received a prestigious scholarship in NYU. Marriage was out of the question. For him. He had fought a lifetime to get out of that small tall. So timing was bad. But I want to keep you, my dear. I did not want an abortion. And I knew Grandpa and Nana would be hopping mad. I thought they would kill me when they find out that I would be having my baby out of wedlock. And your father’s parents would probably insist he marry me. The way things would be done right in a small town, you know? And there would be chaos. And I loved your father. I wouldn't want to drag him down.”
Strangely this appears to be a bit easier than expected. Betty knew she would have to explain to Marissa one day eventually. Perhaps it's the way Marissa is listening intently and calmly, Betty felt as if she was telling someone else’s story. It seems a lot easier that way.
“So, when I was about 4 months pregnant, I decided I had to pack up and leave the town. Make things easier for your father, for everybody. Before everybody start noticing I was pregnant. So the very day after Grandpa and Nana have driven to visit my Cousin Nelly who just delivered a baby in the next town, I packed my bags. Without anyone knowing.”
Ok, now the memories are starting to come back and it starts to hurt again.
“You know, Lisa has been my best friend since childhood. Yeah, Lisa my superwoman-lawyer-friend, Lisa. She was driving me to the train station. She thought I should go see your father once last time. In case he wants me to stay. I didn't think things would change but I guess I wanted to believe in Lisa.”
The memories are flooding back now.
“But no, he didn’t change his mind. And he didn’t say a thing. I guess, I do remember how your father looked like after all, Marissa. He looked like a tree, a deeply-rooted tree for something not very tall, so rooted he can’t move, a tree in the middle of the road.”
“Marissa, my dear, the only picture I have in my head, is a man standing in the middle of the road outside his house, with his hands in his pockets, as if they would wave goodbye by themselves, if he didn’t keep them in. Even the two old trees we had known for all our lives were swaying in the wind, as if to say goodbye but he just stood there.”
“The sun was setting, and we should go soon to catch the night train. So I had to go. Did I tell you they say the sunset view in our town is legendary? Or so the folks there think anyway. They don’t travel very much I guess.”
“No, I didn't cry, Marissa. I was determined not to. I thought I should match the nonchalance I see in your father. But as we drove away, I looked behind through the back window of Lisa’s car, hoping to see your father wave once at least. Just once. Or perhaps running after the car, trying to stop me from leaving... I kept watching until I couldn't see him anymore. But as he became smaller and smaller... he remained stuck to the ground, with his hands were tucked away. Only the trees were waving.”
“I am sorry I burned all the photos away. But I love you, you know that, right?”
posted by Racy Redwood at 10:29 AM
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