by Nōnen Títi
Already tired of the argument, Doreen left them in front of the TV so she could call the clinic without being interrupted. “No, it’s not an emergency, but my husband wants him looked at today.”
The secretary, who knew Martin, said she would see what she could do. Before Doreen could thank her, a loud crash made her drop the phone. Four brown eyes stared up at her from in front of the TV.
“Stay here,” Doreen told them and ran to the kitchen. A gust of wind alerted her to the broken window before she noticed the glass shattered all over the table and chairs. A huge brick that must have landed on the table first lay on the floor amid the plates and cups. Doreen had to put her hand over her mouth to calm her breathing. Suppose she would have insisted that the kids eat breakfast first…
“Mum?”
Automatically Doreen closed the door. “Stay out of the kitchen, okay?”
Josh followed her into the living room where Becky was on the phone. “It’s because my twin brother is really ill,” she was saying.
Doreen took it off her to apologize to the secretary, but she couldn’t get her voice to sound firm and her hands were trembling too.
“They’ll see us in the afternoon,” she told Josh, who looked paler than ever.
Instead of insisting that the kids get ready for school, Doreen gave them each a banana and left them to watch TV with another warning to stay out of the kitchen. She couldn’t leave the house until the window was fixed. She thought about calling Martin, but all that would accomplish would be him going door to door to interrogate the neighbours and she already had so few people to talk to. Besides, somebody had thrown that brick purposely and Josh had been beaten up at school yesterday. Why?
The answer was stuck to the brick with an elastic band. Mind your own business or somebody will end up dead.
Even more determined not to tell Martin, Doreen brushed up the glass and shattered breakfast, crying silently to herself. Beth had been her only friend in this neighbourhood and Glenn had been the only child to play with Josh.
When the glazier said he couldn’t be there until later today, Doreen found a piece of cardboard and hammered it over the window. It wouldn’t keep burglars out, but it would have to do while she visited the clinic. She called the school to say that Josh and Becky were ill and didn’t insist that Becky change out of her pyjamas. After lunch Doreen took them to the clinic.
“I don’t think this is a bladder problem. Is there stress at home that could have caused it?” the doctor asked after a quick glance at Josh’s bruises.
“Well…” Not sure whether to tell the doctor about the bullies, Doreen hesitated.
“Marital problems are often the cause of this kind of regression. I suggest you and your husband seek some counselling and I’ll write Josh an anti-depressive.”
Five minutes and thirty-five dollars later, Doreen was back outside, feeling accused and worried. “How about I buy you both a little toy and we won’t tell Daddy about what the doctor said?”
Of course the children didn’t object to this idea, so after picking up the prescription, Doreen took them to the toy shop to each find a small gift. Josh saw a plastic fire truck with an extendable ladder and two plastic firemen which was only ten dollars, but Becky wanted a Barbie that was three times that price.
“That’s too much, Becky. We won’t be able to buy treats all week if we buy that.”
“But I want this one.”
“Try and find something else.”
“No!”
“Come on, Becky. Choose something smaller or you get nothing.”
That was, of course, the wrong thing to say. Becky started wailing and sat down in the middle of the aisle. Aware of the looks of the other shoppers, Doreen knelt down beside her. “Please, Becky. You have to get up. Don’t cry. We will find you a toy.”
“No, I want Barbie.”
“But it’s too expensive. We haven’t got that much money.”
“I want it. You give Josh what he wants but not me.”
“Becky, get up. People are watching.”
When Doreen tried to lift her, Becky started squealing and did not stop until Doreen gave in. “Okay, you can have the Barbie.”
Becky stood up and ran to the shelf to get what she wanted. Doreen hurried them to the counter to pay for the toys so they could go home.
“Madam, could you step aside a moment?”
“What?” Doreen turned to the two policemen. “Oh, hello, Peter.”
“Doreen? I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you. Somebody here called us to say…”
Doreen started trembling. “What?”
“Well, they said a child was crying, so we came to check it out.”
“Becky was a little upset,” Doreen answered, aware that all the people in the shop were looking at her.
“Hi Becky. What have you got?” Peter asked.
“A Barbie. She’s pretty.”
“Yes, she is,” Peter said. “Sorry for that,” he added to Doreen.
Doreen did her best to say a friendly goodbye, but she couldn’t stop shaking. If it hadn’t been for Martin being with the police… “You stupid child,” she said to Becky as soon as they were gone. “You almost had me arrested. You’re not allowed to cry outside. How many more times do I need to tell you that?”
“But we were in the shop,” Becky answered.
“And now we can never go back there. No more toys. Ever!”
“Why not?”
Without answering that Doreen hurried them home where nobody could report her for Becky’s tantrums. Maybe she should have asked the doctor to give Becky a stronger prescription for her mood disorder.
The quiet caused by the new toys allowed her to relax a while, but after an hour or so the novelty of the new Barbie wore off and Becky wanted to have a go at Josh’s fire truck.
“You can play with my Barbie.”
“I don’t want to.”
“But we have to share. Right Mum? We have to share.”
“Let Josh play with his toy for now. I’m sure he’ll let you try it later.”
“But I want to try it now!”
“Maybe you could both play with it together.”
But Becky wasn’t in the mood for being tolerant. “I’ll tell Daddy you got ‘wet your pants’ pills,” she threatened her brother.
Josh looked at Doreen.
“Let her play with it for a while, please?” Doreen pleaded, unwilling to get into another argument with Martin over rewarding the wrong behaviour. Josh reluctantly handed the truck to his sister and cuddled up on the couch. Doreen took a handful of lollies from the jar and gave them to Josh. “Here, honey. She’ll soon be tired of it and then you can take it to your room, okay?”
“Where’s mine?” Becky asked.
“You can have some when you have finished playing with the truck.”
“But you give Josh lollies and not me!”
“You can have lollies when you give Josh the truck back.”
Becky hesitated for a moment, but the lollies lost the battle. Josh put his thumb in his mouth and closed his eyes.
Doreen made that night’s dinner with the glazier looking on from outside. The few times she walked into the living room, Josh was asleep and Becky still totally engrossed in her game.
Doreen woke Josh up when she saw Martin pull up in front of the house. “Becky, come and eat. Daddy is home.”
Becky had by now played with the truck longer than Josh had, so while the kids said hello to Martin and he helped them put on their aprons, Doreen quickly put the truck in Josh’s room.
“Eat, don’t nibble,” Martin told Josh, who didn’t do more than pick at his food.
“I’m sick,” Josh answered.
“How are you sick?”
“Because he had lollies and I didn’t,” Becky said.
“Have you been eating lollies before dinner?”
“I gave him them and he didn’t have many. That can’t be it,” Doreen answered.
“Of course that’s it. A skinny kid like Josh can’t deal with a lot of sugar. When are you going to learn that?”
“I’m not skinny,” Becky said.
“You be quiet and eat,” Doreen told her.
“But you promised me lollies.”
“If you empty your plate quietly, you can have lollies after dinner.”
“But you said after the truck.”
“And now Mum says after you finish dinner, so be quiet and eat.”
To prevent Becky from telling Martin too many details, Doreen gave her enough lollies to keep her quiet until bedtime and told Martin that she didn’t know what happened to the window, that she had looked for a fallen bird but not found any. Whether he believed her or not, Martin only commented that Will and Beth seemed to have closed up their home and gone away.
On Wednesday Doreen served the children their breakfast in the living room, just in case, and handed each their tablet in an egg cup, showing them that the pink one was for Becky and the yellow one for Josh.
“Why does Josh got to take pills to sit still?” Becky asked.
“Josh’s tablet isn’t for sitting still. It’s to feel happier.”
“Why can’t I have happy tablets?” Becky asked.
“Because you don’t need it.”
“But I want to feel happy too and I don’t feel happy if I have to go to school.”
“Well, it will help, because if you can sit still, the teacher won’t get angry at you, so you will be happier.”
“I want to stay home.”
“We can’t, honey. You can’t stay home every day.”
“But I’m not feeling good.”
When Doreen didn’t respond to that, Becky went to the bathroom, clutching her stomach. After a few gagging noises she shouted for Doreen to come quickly.
“It fell in,” Becky said indicating that her socks had blocked up the toilet, which after three attempts to flush it, was now overflowing.
“Damn you, you did that on purpose,” Doreen whispered, hoping Martin, who had the late shift, wouldn’t hear them.
“Did not!”
Neither gloves nor plunging helped unblock the toilet and by the time Doreen had wiped up the flood and changed her own soaking wet clothes, they were running late. She’d have to call a plumber, but… she hated calling strangers. It had always been Will who’d fixed everything that was broken.
“Get ready. Put on a clean uniform,” Doreen ordered Becky.
“No!”
“Mum, we’ll be late. I’ll get in trouble,” Josh said, pulling at Doreen’s arm.
He was right, they’d be late. Doreen took her daughter by the arms and shook her. “Get ready or you can go straight to bed.”
“Ow, you’re hurting me!”
Doreen glanced around, but Josh was looking out the window. “Becky, come on darling. It’s almost weekend.”
“You hurt me!” Becky shouted.
“And I’ll do it again if you don’t get ready now,” Doreen whispered.
“I’ll tell on you!”
“Mum!” Josh pleaded.
“Just get ready. Becky, come on darling. The teachers will report it if you don’t go and they’ll put you in a home. You don’t want Daddy to put me in prison, do you?”
“You can’t make me.”
“But you like school,” Doreen pleaded, desperately looking at the clock. “It’s only for a little while.” Between the feeling of despair that came with the notion that she’d have these scenes for the next six years, and the fact that it would be less troublesome to have to listen to a dentist’s admonitions once every six months than to be told off by a school counsellor, Doreen turned to her last resort. “You can have a bag of lollies. One for every hour of school.”
“No! I’m not ever again going and if you touch me I’ll tell the teacher.”
“The teacher wants you to go to school,” Doreen explained, trying to soften her voice.
“If you make me go, I’ll tell the teacher you hurt me. You’re not allowed to punish me, they said to tell if you did, so I’m not going.”
Doreen gave up. She just couldn’t do this anymore. Becky had no idea what she was saying, but suppose she did talk? Doreen would just have to tell Martin they were ill.
Quiet returned immediately until, after about half an hour, the phone rang. It was the school secretary asking about the children’s absence. Doreen explained they were still ill and promised to get a doctor’s note to prove it.
Five minutes later it rang again. This time it was that journalist, Odette, who’d lived at the end of the street before her husband had made off with that schoolgirl. She explained that she was doing interviews in the street with regard to the incident last Sunday and was looking for comments.
“I don’t know anything about that,” Doreen answered.
“I understand Josh was involved?”
“I don’t talk to reporters.”
“Did you know that you have been accused by a confidential source of physically neglecting your son? I was told he has bruises and doesn’t get enough to eat. You do understand that these rumours will be truth until you tell me your side of the story?” Odette asked.
Unable to reply, Doreen brought the phone up to Martin. “You talk to her.”
Martin’s mood wasn’t good when he told Doreen that Odette insisted she’d had an anonymous call by somebody who didn’t trust the police. His mood didn’t improve when he found out about the blocked toilet and once he learned that the children were home, he left for work without saying goodbye.
The afternoon was peaceful. After a strange plumber had repaired the damage, Doreen played games with the children and they watched a movie together while she ran out to get some shopping.
“Did you get me those razor blades?” Martin asked when he came in at six for a quick meal with the family during his break.
“Oh, that was it. I knew there was something I needed to get, but it wasn’t on the list and I couldn’t think what it was.”
“I need them, Doreen. I have an early shift tomorrow.”
“Can’t you pick them up on the way to work?” she asked, putting a small scoop of potatoes on each of the children’s plates.
“No time; it’s one thing after the other at the moment. Please pick some up.”
“Okay. I’ll go after dinner.” The supermarket wouldn’t close until nine.
“Can we have ice cream?” Becky asked.
“Yes,” Doreen said. The ice cream parlour was open late and the kids loved going there when it was dark, which meant no tantrums.
“Only if you’ve both finished your dinner before I leave. Children can’t have ice cream if they don’t eat good food as well. I want to see you take a decent bite,” Martin said to Josh, who kept chewing until Martin was done and went upstairs to have a quick wash, while Doreen made a cup of coffee.
As soon as his father left the kitchen Josh started gagging and quietly spat his food back onto his plate. Doreen quickly took a napkin and wiped the regurgitated mass along with a handful of potatoes from his plate, so it looked as if he’d eaten more.
Becky looked expectantly up at Doreen.
“Just eat a little bit and then we’ll get ice cream.”
Becky took her napkin and wiped the leftover food from her plate into it, spilling half of it on the floor.
“Becky, give that to me!”
But Becky was fast and deposited it into the kitchen bin just when Martin came back. Doreen handed him his coffee, hoping he’d take it to the living room, but he didn’t. “I have to go. You have two minutes to eat the rest of your food,” he told Josh and insisted on standing beside him. Josh tried another bite, but he turned even paler that he already looked and Doreen simply couldn’t stand by and see him suffer. She picked up the plate. “Go on, spit it out.”
Josh did so.
Martin shook his head. “You spoil him,” he said and picked up his jacket. “I need to go. Don’t forget m
y razors. And no ice cream!”
“But you promised!” Becky wailed.
“You can blame your brother.”
“Martin, that isn’t fair.”
“Yes it is. The deal was that they both eat their food and once the rule is set we stick to it. Besides, it will teach them cooperation.”
As soon as he was gone, Doreen picked up the last dishes and filled the tub. He had easy talking. He set the rules and then walked away but she had to somehow make them work. It was easy to have principles if you had somebody else to enforce them.
A noise from upstairs alerted her. She left the dishes and ran up the steps to find Becky coming out of Josh’s room. “What did you do?”
Doreen found Josh sitting on the floor, holding the new truck. The extendable ladder was broken off. “Did Becky do that?”
Doreen pulled him into her arms. “Don’t cry. We’ll get you a new truck tomorrow, okay, honey? Get your shoes on, I have to go to the shops for Daddy.”
Doreen took the broken truck and went to Becky’s room. “Why did you break it?”
“I didn’t.”
“You can keep it now,” Doreen said and threw it onto the floor. “Get ready.”
“Only if I can have ice cream.”
“Daddy said no.”
“I want ice cream. You promised.”
Doreen took a deep breath. She was in a dilemma. Either she gave in and risked Martin yelling at her for giving them ice cream because Becky wouldn’t keep quiet, or she’d leave the kids home alone. But Becky couldn’t be trusted if she was in a mood like this and Josh couldn’t control his sister. Suppose Becky did something dangerous? Suppose there was a fire and they’d find out she’d left them home alone? She’d end up in prison!
“Okay, we’ll have ice cream.”
It solved the problem for the evening and the kids were sleeping by the time Martin came home, but on Thursday morning Becky repeated that Doreen couldn’t make her go to school because the school had said so.
“Fine, stay home, both of you. I don’t care anymore.”
Within seconds Becky had her school uniform on the floor and turned on the television. Josh merely stared at Doreen.
“Well, I can’t do it and you don’t really want to go, do you?”
“But what about Dad?”