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individulsong

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There was thunder in my body as I struggled to regain my awareness.

            “Benjajin! Benjajin!” Someone was screaming my name, or at least trying to. I could feel small hands shaking my upper body.

            “Wha..What?” I opened my eyes to see a blurry outline of Marie.

            “Marie.” I whispered. I was half relieved half afraid at seeing her. “You’ll never guess what just happened to me, Marie.” I sounded like a drunkard, slurring my words together.

            “No, no guess. Saw! Help!” Her voice was loud and panicky. I tried to sit up, but she thrust me down again.

            “What’s going on?” My eyesight was beginning to clear and I saw Jessica hurry up the stairs.

            “What’s all this commotion?” The minute she saw me she stopped and grabbed onto the staircase banner.

            “Lord in heaven! Benjamin, what did you do to your face?”

            “My face?” Just at that moment my mother unbolted her door, wearing a silvery nightgown.

            “Is it so impossible to get an afternoon’s rest around this house? I’ve only just arrived and already everyone is beginning to shout!”

            “My Lady,” Jessica quietly stumbled over her words. “It’s Benjamin, he’s…”

            “Dear God, boy! What happened to you?” I could feel all of their eyes on me. I had no idea what had happened to me. All I remembered was dreaming, hearing voices. Mother’s and Marie’s.

            “I…I…I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

            “Don’t lie to me!” Mother bellowed angrily. “This is disgusting, Jessica. You’ve been teaching my boy to lie, to lie even to his own Mother.” Mother shook her head in disapproval.

            “No, My Lady! I discourage lying.”

            “Is that a fact? Then why is my boy lying to me?”

            “I’m not lying! I don’t remember what happened!” Mother flashed a look my way, almost making me cringe. Her eyes were little squints inside her head, and her mouth was thin with madness. It was frightening.

            “Have you looked at yourself, boy? Have you seen what you look like? No one just forgets why there is a huge, bloody scar across the face. What were you doing?” I was trembling madly. A huge, bloody scar? I couldn’t feel anything. In fact, my face felt numb, as did my fingers and hands.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mother. I’m sorry.” I was bewildered, and soft tears began to form in my eyes. I tried to look away, but everyone’s eyes were on me. They noticed my weakness.

            “Marie, go boil some water.” Jessica said, sharply. Marie, having been quiet as a mouse the entire time, got up quickly and ran down the stairs, thrusting herself into the kitchen.

            “What is this, Benjamin?” Mother asked me. “Are you trying to die? Are you being a rebel?” I slumped back, just trying to get further away from her.

            “No, of course not. All I remember is going into my room to take a nap after Cook decided to quit.” Right at that moment, my eyes grew wide. Mother stood up erect, a stone like look upon her face.

            “Cook decided to quit, did she?” I knew I shouldn’t have said anything, but under pressure, under confusion, I had forgotten that it would have been wise to keep my mouth shut.

            “My Lady, it’s not what you think.” Jessica tried to explain.

            “Oh, it is exactly what I think, my dear Jessica.” Mother smiled, showing the two of us her perfectly white teeth and went back into her room, closing the door behind her, leaving us with the sound of her dead bolt locking it. I was breathing heavily. Jessica was looking down at me as I was lying on the rug in the hallway.

            “What on Earth, Benjamin.” She shook her head. “I can’t afford any more of your trouble with My Lady around.” I had my head bent down, crying, feeling ashamed that I could not hold in my weakness. She bent down to be level with my eyes. “Don’t you cry, boy. Crying never did anyone any good. Now, you listen to me. I don’t know what happened, and honestly, if you don’t want to tell anyone, that’s your own business, but I do know that you’ve got no reason to let My Lady make you feel inferior. None of us do. You just hold your head up high, you do what you’re told, but inside you’re you, and no one can take that away from you. Do you understand?” I nodded. She kissed the top of my head. “Good. Now, go down stairs into the kitchen and let Marie help you clean that thing. If I were you, if you are telling the truth, I’d figure out what you were dreaming about.” Jessica helped me up and went into the guest bath to scrub the walls and the tub for Mother. I walked down the stairs slowly. Figure out what I was dreaming about…

Marie was shaking as she handled the rag, placing it in the hot water.

            “It’s alright, Marie. You don’t have to be scared of hurting me.” Her delicate hands placed the hot rag on my face, making me wince as the numbness in my fingers and hands began to die down, and the pain I couldn’t feel before began prod itself where the scar was. Marie left me in the abandoned kitchen as she went to go do her other work. I looked around me. The shelves were bare. Cook had packed everything that had belonged to her. You don’t realize how much you depend on a person until they are gone from you. I felt lost within myself. Things aren’t so supposed to be this way, are they? Of course they are. Bitter sweet memories of the people and things that you’ve cared about most in your life. The kitchen would never be the same without Cook. That much I knew, but if Cook wasn’t going to come back, then she wasn’t going to come back. Was it fair that Mother thought she could treat us all with disrespect? No, it wasn’t, but as I sat there in the kitchen, I began to understand how things were playing out.

Cook left because she realized she could never be someone else’s guinea pig. Jessica, although not directly saying it, was feeling the same way. It was a sign that I could move on and leave behind the worries I had always figured I had. What did it matter if Mother never once showed me affection? I had Jessica and Cook. Wasn’t that enough? Mother wasn’t the one who could hold me back, she wasn’t the one who could make me feel bad for doing a wrong, and she wasn’t the one who cradled me when I was feeling down. I sat there, on the kitchen counter, watching the hot water cool as I continually dipped the bloody rag into the water to wipe off my face. I thought back to my dream. How could I have gotten the scar on my face? I had only dreamed of Mother and Marie. How did the scar fit into that equation?

It is the ratio between two worlds. I didn’t understand then, but I understand now. Have you ever noticed something that wasn’t in observation before? Somehow, you just happen to notice an object, a person, anything, and all of the sudden, as you live your life; you uncover the meaning of what you have observed. It holds far greater purpose than you could have ever imagined. It symbolizes the safety net in which you have surrounded yourself. That is how it was with the scar. Between Mother and Marie, there was a scar. How it came into being, is beyond me, for, no one touched me nor did I deliberately hurt myself, but, never the less, the scar was there, telling me a story. I chose not to see it, and if I had, things might have happened differently between us all. But no one can change the past; there is only the future. The past is what was, and that, deep down, is what I’m most afraid of.