In My Mind

by Shaida Mehrban

  Individually, Steve rubs his warm hands over his precious photos of Gabriella as Father looks on, worried at his obsession, whilst Mother looks distraught at his state of mind. “How you have changed, Steve, and when the hell did this all happen and without me even knowing?” Steve totally blanks him but can see her gently opening her mouth. He shows his finger to her and she does not utter a sound. He tries hard not to look at her because he hates moments that cause tension or stress and she manages to do that, bring the worst out in him.

  She tries again, “You know, Steve, I told you to not take an interest in the punters as they are our customers and we have to respect them and never pay too much attention to them. We’ve had this conversation many times but I feel that you’ve ignored it. Do you even remember the two times that I urged you not to keep going on about the girl? You said that she had long jet black hair and a nose like Priscilla Presley’s and whiter skin than white. I told you then that we should not see anyone like that because it is not our place to think of all these people other than as our customers. I have never understood why the more I tell you the more you ignore and dig your heels in deeper to the point when you were opening up every day eagerly in the hope that she’d come in. That was the only reason for you being so eager. Steve, dear Steve, you see she didn’t just visit this pub but she started to make a home in your head.”

  She continued, “You let her in and you showed her the way even though you knew she wasn’t yours or even interested in you. The more you saw her, the more you wanted her and the worse your obsession became. Steve, I am telling you all this because you know it’s right and you know that as my son I am only looking after you. I care deeply for you and the mistakes and the decisions that you made; however, I can’t force you, the rest is up to you.”

  “How dare you, woman. She didn’t make me do a single thing. She was the only one perfect thing in this half dead life that I was made to live by you after Father left because of you. You are a true believer of nag, nag, nag. That drove Father away and me into a total recluse, a dimwit, so someone said. Someone who wanted to live in the body of someone else but with my own mind and I did have my own mind. She loved me even though she didn’t realise it yet, but she will and then I will be happy once again. Now it’ll be like the olden days, Gabriella will come in from time to time and Father and I in the pub and you will be in the kitchen. Life will be great and good and normal again. I knew it would be normal again one day, I’ve just had to wait. Yes, from tomorrow it will be normal again.”

  From the corner of his eyes, he searches for Father and there is a twinkle in Steve’s eyes as he sees that he is still standing beside him. “You see, Father, there is no point in going over the past, let us just see about the future. Let’s focus only on the future and then things will be fine with Gabriella and me, you and me, and there is mother as well, I suppose.”

  Father softly replies, “Gabriella is no more.”

  Steve put his hands on his ears to shut out the world of reality, but then some people prefer to live in their own man made life, fact or fiction but, if you live it, it becomes real and if you believe it, it’s the real thing.

  “Look, Son, it’s perfectly all right to like someone as you did, no harm, but it is not okay to be obsessed as you were and to hold a torch for someone who knows you not!”

  “She knew me and this was all about Gabriella getting to know me, Father, but she went and spoilt it all and now she will have to wait for another day, another time, another chance, another place, maybe when she is well enough. I have to just give her time to get better and then I will have to either find her or, if she is keen on me as much as I am keen on her, then she will come. After all, she knows exactly where I am.

  “I am not moving or going anywhere, everyone else does and will do but I am here to stay put. You see, Father, even you left and that was the worst feeling of all for your young son. His father deserting him as he is growing up. What could be worse? It’s really tough, maybe it’s far too tough for me but I think it was hard for her too, even though I don’t really want to talk about that and she never said so either. She acted as if all was well and life was sweet, but it wasn’t, not really.”

  “Son, I am here now so stop worrying and stressing. All we have to focus on is making sure that we get a good solicitor or legal person who can defend you properly in court and who can prove that it was all done in innocence and you are not guilty because you were not in the right frame of mind.”

  “Guilty of what? If loving someone is guilty, then yes, I am guilty but I have done nowt else but like someone.”

  “Well, Steve, my lad, I understand all of that but I can’t see others thinking the way that you do. You can see Gabriella but other people cannot see her. What you did wasn’t all innocent because she simply didn’t survive the day like you did. She didn’t survive, you do understand that, don’t you? Do you understand what I am trying to tell you, Son? Please think about what you’ve done. Take responsibility.”

  “Father, you don’t need to protect me, I am all grown up. I am a man now. I can take anything, believe me, like a man on the train knowing where and how he’s going. So, don’t give me that tat, give me the truth. Please go and let me be and I will rest with my sweet Gabriella’s thoughts.”

  They both walk out of his room, more baffled then before. The parents look at one another and then they close Steve’s bedroom door behind them. The mother with the little sighs and damp eyes in wonder at this stage that they are all on right now. The stage, all black, the characters with heavy eyes but the lights of the stage all flickering. The tunnel looks quite black and it will be hard to come out of the other end. How black and how hard are things for Steve right now or how bad is it about to become? How would she know, how would Father know what the hell they all get themselves into?

  Someone to blame, something to blame, for someone just to take responsibility, she knew they had both played an equal part in playing games in Steve’s mind without even realising. In his own mind, of course, Steve had done no wrong but in the mind of others and society there was no right that had been done. The mother runs her hands to and from left to right, up and down, and then back again.

  “I think there is no need to wash your hands yet again, love.” Washing her hands is so far from her mind but he knows her well.

  She ignores him, hard as it may be, and instead she cuddles one into the other. She braces herself into her old and worn out seat with the swollen cushion that cradles in the chair which has moulded into her plum shaped body. A big dipped blob and the outside curves up. It’s a little frayed and a little worn out. Nothing stays the same forever. She always sits with her feet so tightly snug together, always leaving no gap between her legs, ladylike with her tweed to keep her warm. She doesn’t care much for tights or stockings. Father looks at her up and down and asks himself why he hadn’t looked at his wife as she deserved.

  He hasn’t looked at her like that in a very long time. He has not forgotten her in time but perhaps he just hadn’t taken time out to admire the real woman inside, the woman that lived within that ruffled body and the kind natured soul, she waited for his attention over the long cold nights, she was always waiting for him. They look at one another, walk into the bedroom and close the door behind them, it has been such a long time to have to live craving for each other and their child. A husband and a wife and a child all together after such a long time and yet everyone feeling quite lonely and isolated.

  Some people just prefer tomorrow, rather than facing today. Tomorrow is always yet to come, an experience yet to live, so you have the right to re-write any wrongs, false hopes and empty promises as life always tends to let you down. Steve has always planned for today, never tomorrow but today is all he ever lives in. No planning or hopes, just dreams he has to fulfil today, a life that should be straightforward, days of him running the public house, his father’s house, T
HE MAN’S INN. This was the man’s, then both of theirs, playing their part today and yesterday and waiting always for today to come again and be better, it was simpler this way just taking one day at a time.

  Today was the day that Steve had tried to talk to Gabriella, today was the day that she wouldn’t do as he asked and today was the day when events had gone wrong with her and today was the day when Father came back, today!

  “Well, Son, you’re finally up.”

  “I have slept like a log, Father, like I used to when you were here last, but since you departed I have never slept fully through the night. Nights have been terribly dark and long and days were cold as well.”

  “Let’s talk about this later but first of all, have your breakfast. Your mother has made full English breakfast as always, a good start to our day. We just finished eating and onto our coffee but we will share the table with you whilst you eat. We will talk once you’ve finished brekkie, though, I mean a proper talk all three of us. Come on, start eating.”

  Father takes the oven glove, still as old as the day that he left. Slowly, he puts his right hand into the thick, heavy glove and narrows his arm into the oven, he slithers the hot plate out and throws a placemat at Steve. Steve catches it and places it carefully in front of his eyes. Shame it wasn’t a mirror, Steve would be able to see his face clearly through it. Father puts the hot breakfast plate onto the mat and hands Steve the cutlery that’s wrapped in a napkin.

  “Life and all these thoughts are carefully wrapped up like this knife and fork embedded like my inside.”

  “Don’t think like that, Son, don’t be negative, do you hear me?” Father looks at Steve, but Steve looks away even though he has heard every word and looks at his mother instead. She is sitting right next to him but Father carefully looks at her and at him to see what both are thinking. Steve realises that he is looking straight at her and chooses to ignore her, so he looks towards Father and then at his plate as he continues to eat joyfully.

  Breakfast is finished so she tidies up as she collects herself here and there, looking busy as always. Busy but somehow cold to the world outside. There is an unknown deadly silence in the room and yet there should not be, they are all well, all present and alive and hopeful. The heated room feels quite cold. She can’t resist so out comes her warm and motherly words.

  “Well, Son, do you think you could tell me exactly what happened that day with you and that female, would you like to talk?”

  Tongue-tied and tormented, he quickly replies that she is not just a female, she has a name and everybody knows her name it’s Gabriella, and she is a woman in her own right. Father puts his hand over Steve’s trembling hands to stop him panicking further. Father can feel Steve’s body shaking in a panic state yet he isn’t angry but just panicking. Father knows he is the only one to stop Steve, so he rubs his warm hands tightly over Steve’s.

  A few moments later, Steve stops looking at the cold wall and looks at Father. They smile at each other. Steve looks quite lost and alone so Father asks what exactly did happen between him and his friend Gabriella.

  Steve replies, “Nothing happened actually, nothing much really.” He tells his father that he just wanted to speak with her and she hesitated a little as she was shy. She just did not want to listen to him on that particular day when all he wanted to do was to talk, nothing else. All he ever wanted to do was just to be left alone to talk to her.

  Steve continues by telling his father that he must realise how lonely it must’ve been for him not being able to talk to anyone and he definitely could not talk to her upstairs or to other people or to the customers and even they didn’t have that much time for Steve because they came in for a drink and a packet of Crisps or a nice hot meal but not to be burdened down with negative conversation.

  “She didn’t say anything?” asks Father.

  “That’s right, Father.”

  “Are you sure, Steve? It’s just that you said before that she didn’t want to come with you or something and now you’re saying she didn’t say anything?”

  “Yes, it’s all the same. After all, I didn’t force her to go down the cellar, not really!”

  “Not really? Don’t you think that no means no?” Steve listens to Father’s voice, his tone has changed but continues to listen to his own voice as well. His own voice is telling him something very different.

  “Steve, listen to me. Are you actually listening to me or someone else?”

  “Well,” says Steve, now rubbing his eyes and then rubbing his hands, then eyes again and then more and more.

  “Steve, please stop rubbing, stop panicking and relax. Don’t fall into pieces for goodness sake, stop panicking and getting flustered. It’s not good for you or for anyone else, what are you going to be like once in court? You’ve got to relax and get yourself together and remain calm. How the hell did you get to this point? I can’t understand how you got like this.

  “Well, Steve?”

  “Well, Father, well what?”

  “What did I ask?”

  “I can’t remember really. No point to dwell on it. As I was saying, it was the day when you looked at that brown roundtable of ours, nicely nestled in the tight corner that the cleaner tends to leave untouched. Gabriella sat there playing chess as often she did with that long-haired boy. He looked good and intelligent and she was full of life, fingers flattering at the chessboard and laughter bursting from her white big teeth. She was a joy and all I wanted was to speak to her. I mean, it’s not really a big deal to be in awe of this but often as I open my heart to the jam jars with no fruits, there is a mix of colourful rays of butterflies fluttering elegantly but then sadly. They, just like everything else, lose their fight to be no more, sadly.”

  “You mean the butterflies or Gabriella, Steve?”

  “What are you talking about, Father?” Steve asks. There is a note of accusation and Father’s tone changes.

  “You said, Steve, no more. Who are you talking about?”

  He retorts quite angrily, “The butterflies, Father, the butterflies, who else would I mean?”

  Father glances at Steve’s face and then Mother’s empty eyes and then Steve’s shaking hands. He turns his soft hands to glance at his palms. “Seriously, look at my palms. They have trouble written all over them. The middle line is full of little scribbles leading off turbulence we are facing at the moment.”

  “Turbulence, Father, like the weather?”

  “Yes, I suppose you could say the weather, like our mood when it’s sunny, naturally we feel good, when it’s warm we enjoy ourselves, but the more turbulence the more it affects our heads, sometimes other things too!”

  “Like who, Father?” asks Steve.

  “Do you think I could be relating to you by any chance, Son?”

  “Well, not really, Father. Why would you? I’m not turbulent, quite relaxed actually, why would you say that, Father, what have I done?”

  “Done, what have you done that was right?” Father continues, “Wrong? Son, is that what you think? It was all about me, let me be the adult, let me take responsibility as you’re not yourself, right? Now that I’ve created this mess, no one else can help. Perhaps if I hadn’t left then your mum and I would’ve been fine together and you wouldn’t be in this mess, or you wouldn’t have killed Gabriella, you know.”

  Steve hurriedly puts both of his hands firmly on his ears like headphones whilst shouting at the top of his voice, “No one dare to kill Gabriella, so stop saying she’s dead!”

  Father calmly reasons with him, “Ok, ok, relax, perhaps not deliberately, but she was with you when she died and even though it is an accident, nevertheless she died when she was with you and you did take her down from the bar area.”

  “No, no, Father believe me when I say that she’s not, she’s just tired and resting, asleep that’s all. She can never leav
e me, it simply can’t be. I’m sure that’s what the cops were saying in their own way.”

  “They were right, Son, you need to face the facts, be a man, face the music, and the sooner the better!”

  There is a long pause filled with guilty silence and the surrounding air was chilly yet calm.

  “All I know is that she played chess that evening at the wooden round table, she moved her pawns here and there, and she even laughed at checkmate. I remember that I tinkered with the empty glasses as if they were the games on the battered chess board, the wide ones against the slim tall ones to the small petite ones, but I never embarrassed myself in front of dearest Gabriella. She once said that only educated, sharp, clever people play chess. They are nurtured into being intelligent, so I assumed I was not in that group and she did not want to make a fool of me. Anyone can play snap! I told her I could play cards and she said that would be about right as snap was a child’s game. I wasn’t talking about snap but she can say anything to me. I don’t mind because it is her and I won’t say anything awful against her, I just take it on the chin. She is far too delicate to hurt me so that’s why I always tried to take care of me and her but still I will carry on forever.”

  “Forever?” asks Father.

  “Yes, Father, forever as long as we are alive, it’s forever!”

  “But, Steve, you will need to wake up and address a simple fact that she is no longer alive!”

  “That is simply not true. She kept whispering to me for a doctor and if she was not in pain, then she wouldn’t have needed him and I know she banged her head. She would not have been able to die just because of that, simply not.”

  Father nudges Steve out of his thought and asks, “When Gabriella asked for the doctor why was the doctor not called? Why would you want to see her in pain? It is clear that her head injury was the cause of her death. The doctor should have been called because she was in extreme pain and was asking for your help, Steve, for you to call the doctor or ambulance. Why the hell didn’t you understand that she was asking for help? You should have gone and found someone to help. She may still be alive if you had spoken to someone. It would have been the difference between life and death, the split second between life and a person bleeding to death.”