Friday, April 01, 2005
Judy
Judy Jubilee was her name. She had spent the fortnight at her aunt's place, a corner on the derelict block that was chipped at its sides, like it had been tossed and missed a few times by the hands of rain and earth.
Yet she liked that crumble of cement, an old fashioned character; of grannies and their treacherous climb to their floors, lugging along their daily rations of milk and cookies; pubescent cry-babies that listened warily to their working mothers on the dangers of opening the door for a stranger; paunched elderly jocks who reminisce of their glory days, criticising the star quarterback for his unsightly mistakes that he himself would never dare commit.
Judy's appreciation of that decrepit building's manner, mood and atmosphere was not quite far from her real interests in buildings. It was their structure that took her breath away.
It never did matter if the building were old, new or under-construction, if dark murders were committed in its hallways, its rooms used for crack and other unwordly acts. Her round eyes weretaken in by its uniformed and angular condition, that bid her to call up its architects for the blue-prints to these icons of adoration. Her respect for them, however came in a more simple and almost virginal form.
It was their stability, their permenance that seem to suggest the never ending possibility of residing forever as a monument to the past and its generations. Judy never did have such stability in her life, her constant shifting to her aunt's house occured every time her own mother rang up one of those I-Can't-Take-It-Anymore bouts of helplessness. Then she and her two twin baby brothers would be shipped of to what seemed like a boarding school for the unwanted and un-raise-able juveniles.
Max and Tod were playing in the crib at 'home', with Aunt Cary in her own rocking chair (strange for a woman of thirty) knitting a pair of matching pullovers for the ensuing winter, closely keeping a watch on their tot movements and occasionally smiling at the sound of their tot-talk. Judy was unhappy, a slight melancholy that had permeated her body at the thought of spending the afternoon alone again, by herself.
When is mom going to come pick us up, she thought to herself. Her nine-year old body, sitting on the cracked sidewalk, watching the cat on the window sill in Mr. Daken's house watch her. This staring game had been lasting for the past two hours or so, with the cat still winning despite constant rematches between the two.
Arggh. She couldn't stand it, was mom ever going to come pick them up? She wanted to go back home to where Kelly was, her prized cabbage patch doll, whom was her bestest best friend in the whole wide world. They had left in such a hurry, a flurry of stuffed clothes and milk bottles, diapers and powder, Kelly had been left behind. Off they were carted to their aunt in that dilapidated piece of junk, with Mom looking worse for wear, the stress of the week catching up on her.
She drove like there were a multitude of crazed-demons possessing her--Max and Tod were crying in their baby seats, a wailing that served only to push Mom over the edge, thus plastering us to the back of our seats. When we had screeched to a stop, in front of the off-red and gray toned building that was Aunt Cary's. She practically tore us from our seats, and towed us up to the door, her finger frentically pressing the call button, her wild eyes red and dilated from exhaustion, darting around in worry that her dependable sister might not be at home.
Fortunately, Aunt Cary came answering. In a flash, Mom dumped them. Like unwanted burdens upon which had weighed upon her for those nine-months of birth and raising. All in no more than a minute of telling them that she wouldn't be gone for long, she left in a haze of tears and exhaust.
Maybe she didn't want them anymore, Judy thought sadly. Tears sprung to her eyes. A childlike sadness that was spawned over the loss of a mother, who could possibly never be coming back to take them back home.
She stood up, a defiance to her own falsified hopes, tears and small whimpers spilling from her reddening face.
I want mom.
I want mom.
I want mom.
I want mom.
Don't leave us. She cried to herself. The dread, a throat clogging emotion that welled up inside and made her heart cry in desperate need.
I promise I'll make things better. I won't be naughty anymore, I'll listen to you, honest!
Judy turned on her feet, to the one place where she could find the comfort, the generous arms of Aunt Cary. She ran back to the house, her cries now splitting the air, childlike sobs that would break one's heart.
She now understood the truth, they were abandoned. Cut off from their ties to the figure of love and care that had fed them from the minute they had been born.
Mother... had no more to give. Therefore, she left.
Aunt Cary.
I need you. Judy wailed in her head.
Cloistering fear and the desperate need for a hug, that ring of protection and warmth was the aim of Judy's scampering steps across the floor, as she jumped into Aunt Cary's lap and burst into a torrent of tears and sobs.
"My dear, whatever is the matter?" Aunt Cary asked.
"Mom's...*hic*... not coming...*hic*... back for us, *hic* isn't she?" Judy asked between hiccups.
Aunt Cary kept silent.
"I don't know, sweety." She said solemnly. "But you still got me, right?" She asked Judy tenderly.
Judy overcomed with emotion, nodded and buried herself in the embrace of a woman capable to give her the comfort she needed.
Yet no joy could interrupt the sadness of her tiny heart, no joy at the chance of new reliance on someone more dependable.
After all, she had just lost her mother to irony. The death of a parent who was not dead, had made Judy jubilant no more.
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Hope you like this short story as well. Wrote of the top of my head as well, no planning. Hope it made your heart ache for the girl, if it did. Comment please!
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