“A Plucked Leaf”
They never explain anything. No one speaks of my mother, Olivia; her nickname is Boo-Boo. I miss her.
* * *
Since I’m afraid of the dark, I hate to sleep. There is nothing that quiets my active imagination. I fear that bad “people” from the stories will visit me once the lights are off. Either the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood or the witches from Snow White or Hansel and Gretel will make it to my closet or under the bed while I’m at school and torture me in the dark. I want to sleep in the room with my sister, September. Since I wet the bed now, I’m forced to sleep in my own room. My bedroom is first from the living room so if anyone breaks in, I will be the first to die.
I really do not mean to wet the bed. Mom has done everything from waking me up in the middle of the night to cutting off my liquids at 4pm. Nothing is successful. I wake up at least twice a week with the faint sweet smell of urine on my one piece footed pajamas. In my dreams I see myself in the bathroom, on the toilet, with my feet swinging. So I release the warm liquid from my tiny body and feel the warmth against my skin. Well, I’m not on the toilet, because when I wake, there is a feeling of cold dampness on my legs, upper body and sheets. I rise and go down the hallway to the bathroom.
The lights are off so I don’t wake anyone. Even though I’m afraid of the dark, I step out of my urine soaked pajamas. The neighbor’s light on the side of their house dimly shines into the bathroom. While I’m reaching for my pink washcloth, there’s a thump on the bathroom door.
“Kimmie?”
I turn the knob as I wipe the tears from my face...it’s Mom.
“Kimmie. Did you wet the bed again? Why do you keep wetting the bed?”
“I don’t know. I be scared.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“Ummm. The dark...the witches...the bugs...and the Boogey Man.”
“The little night light doesn’t help?”
“No.The monsters turn it off!”
She turns on the water in the tub. It’s the middle of night so there are no bubbles or toys. I love to take baths. I swish around in the water and pretend that I’m captain of the ship, “Bathtub Boat.”
“I can’t let you go back to bed smelling pissy.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“You have to hurry and wash up, because there’s a storm coming and electricity and water do not mix.”
“Uh Oh..I hate storms just like the dark.”
She hands me my washcloth and walks down the hall with a can of Lysol in her hand. I hear her in the linen closet. I lean forward and see her with white ABC printed sheets for the bed.The sounds of crinkling plastic, spraying and flipping the mattress nauseates me; I will have to go sleep in my own room. Moms says that the covering helps to keep the pee from soaking into the mattress. The bed is almost ready for me again. While I’m standing and rinsing my body, a thunderous crack startles me; I slip and fall back. Mom runs down the hall.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I just saw a flash and heard a noise.”
“That’s the storm that I was talking about.”
She dries me off and hands me the Johnson and Johnson baby lotion. She squeezes the pink cream into our hands and we massage it onto my skin.
“I thought this stuff is for babies. I’m no baby; I’m almost seven.”
“You’re my baby and always will be,” Mom said. “It’ll keep your skin oily and soft.”
I put on my pink frilly flowered nightgown with matching bottoms. When I climb into bed, the weight of my eyelids causes me to force them open. Mother pulls the cover up to my neck.
“Okay Kimmie. Should I sing or read?”
“Can you please do both? Please. Please. Please sealed with a kiss and cherry on top.”
“Alright.”
“The Cat and The Bird. A cat heard that the birds in an aviary were ailing… “We shall do very well,” they replied, without letting him in, “When we’ve seen the last of you.” The moral of the story is a villain may disguise himself, but he will not fool a wise person.” Mother said.
“Can you read another fable?”
The flash of lightening and roar of thunder are in the background and I want Mom to stay with me. I wish she will sleep in my room with me. Mom begins to hum a tune and we begin to sing together.
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are grey
You’ll never know dear,
How much I love you.
Please don’t take my sunshine away.
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are grey
You’ll never know dear,
How much I love you.
Please don’t take my sunshine away.
Her voice carries me to a place; one that is safe where I play with the cherubim and seraphim in the clouds. Our family orchestra is present. September strikes her harp while I whistle my flute, and Mom sings, twirls, and dances. When Dad appears, the celebration ends. Dad pummels Mom and we come to her rescue. I wake up.
* * *
No comments:
Post a Comment