“Father, believe it when I say that she was alive, she was at peace and relaxing. Her pains were gone and I gave her tablets so she needed no other tablet or person.”
Father once again tells him the same thing but it is almost as if nothing has really registered in Steve’s small mind. He keeps saying that she was alive to the end when they took her.
“Why the hell did those ambulance people have to take her? And why did Mother even call them to come?” He goes on by saying that he needs to go and get ready, ask the law where they’ve taken her and go and see her as soon as possible. Father tries hard to sympathise with him but patience is wearing a bit thin as he tells him that she really is NO MORE forever. Steve remains calm but insists that what he knows it is simply nothing short of the truth. Father asks Steve if he actually knows the exact details of the goings on and what in his mind is going to happen now.
“All I know, Father, is that I want to see Gabriella and be with her as she’s probably a bit upset that I kept her away from her mates for such an awful long time. I mean, we weren’t in the cellar for that long, perhaps a few hours or so, but I do easily lose track of time. Then Mother spoilt it all by calling the law unnecessarily. She stirred trouble and for a split moment I thought I may be in quite deep, but I was not sure. What the heck has she done?”
Father asks if Steve knows why Mother called for help. He replies that it wasn’t to help but she was being herself, nosy. Apart from that, she never wants him to be happy, full stop. Father shakes his head because he doesn’t know whether to cry or bury his head in the sand like Steve. Instead, he tells his son that people only call for help when there is an emergency, life or death or extremely sick or when something bad has happened. Steve shrugs his shoulders and politely replies that she should know when to mind her own business rather than minding others, she needs to untie her apron strings.
She looks down, chin in her hands, with a disheartening look spread thinly across her face but utters no words. Father’s attempts to try and make him understand that she, his mother, is not as he is seeing her, she was thinking of him and her and not stirring trouble. Steve adds that she is the root to evil and his mistakes and as he says that, he points directly at her. Father wraps his fingers tightly around his own hair and tugs tightly. How sweet this pain feels at times, perhaps Steve is feeling it, too.
All three had seen the sunrise. Two knot their ties tightly like a snooze and the third member of this family ties a silken scarf loosely around her neck. Three jackets buttoned up on top of perfectly crisp shirts, the men wear grey pressed trousers and Mother, as always, wears her skirt, grey today. They all stand tall with their shiny black shoes waiting for the steps yet to tread. Together, they walk the distance from their sitting room to the car outside that stands cold and still.
Within their minds today, time is not going to stand still. Hesitantly, they walk out of their cosy, comfortable home leaving behind their past but not a great future ahead. Father pushes the alarm firmly down with his thumb as the family sits in the car together after such a long time, same parents, same child, and same car but a different day. Both parents stroke Steve’s head as they all look at one another, many thoughts but no words.
Father continually looks from his mirror at Steve’s face who sits nervously on the cold black leather seat. His hands fidgety and yet placed under his legs and his tongue murmurs a concussion of words throughout the journey, “Sweet Gabriella, sweet butterfly, why did you have to do all this to me, why didn’t you listen to me, why did you make me do all of this and why is it that they all are blaming me? Say something, please defend me, say something, tell them, tell them the truth, tell them that I did not make you do anything. Why don’t you listen, Gabriella? You didn’t listen that day and you’re not listening now, did I make you do anything against your will? No, so why are all these people blaming me?
“Please, Gabriella, tell them the truth. They are blaming me but they’ve really no idea what the truth is. Please could you tell them, Gabriella? You definitely can, please tell them. I mean, Gabriella, where are you? Tell me where are you, Gabriella, why are you so silent, why is it that I cannot see you anymore and I cannot hear you? You go to the men in uniform and explain to them that I’ve done absolutely nothing to you, tell them about our conversations in French and tell them about our love and tell them how you’re going to teach me to play chess and how I always let you win because I never want you to lose anything whilst you’re with me. You would always be a winner with me, Gabriella.”
Father’s brow withers in worry whilst concentrating on his driving, Steve carries on with his conversation with himself. As more and more words come out, Father’s frown lines get longer. Maybe these words are the ones that Mother worried about. Does she hear what Steve doesn’t utter but just thinks or does Father hear and know all? Does Father understand his son far better? Steve knows that Father did say many words whilst Mother remained quiet, he isn’t like them. Father turns the engine off and quietly, with his head observing the ground, he trots along towards the ticket machine.
“What a waste of money. The Council charges us so much for parking that it’s becoming impossible to park anywhere close by without costing the Earth.” Steve takes no notice of her.
“Well,” replies Father as he slaps the sticker on the windscreen, “nothing is free in life. Now let us get you out of here, Steve, and into the courtroom.” The three soldier straight towards the court where concerned and nosey on lookers watch everyone in sight.
“Well, what he in for, I wonder, family look dodgy, look at them, heads held high, oh look.”
Peering eyes and wondering tongues welcome them. Father slowly drifts away from the wondering chatter, Steve nervous with his head tucked near his chest and Mother following them both. Steve follows Father’s instructions as he signs, replies to unregistered questions and then slowly sits in between his parents. They walk the fine line, too busy to think of what is happening but now even the walls of the long hallway seem to be coming closer to him. He can hear the walls all whispering about him as when he was walking in. Quickly, he shuts out the noise by placing his hands tightly around his burning ears.
“Relax, Steve, we will all need to face the music out there and in here and in the court room. Just relax, it can’t be avoided but there is no noise here so why don’t you take your hands off your ears and relax? Don’t stress, there are no voices here.” Father tries to convince Steve.
Steve starts shouting, “No voices? They are everywhere around me, they are not leaving me, these people all staring at me, Father, pointing the finger at me, looking at me, staring at me! Please stop them, Father, they are making me very scared and nervous. Why don’t they mind their own business?”
Father remains calm and slowly puts his hand to stop Steve from trembling. “Hush now, Steve, no one is talking here; in fact, it’s close to silent and you are making me worried.”
A bit of calmness follows. Steve stops looking from left to right and back again without any movement of his head. He puts his hands under his legs but they are not cold. He is quite calm now. Slowly, he blows as he smiles at Father.
“Yes, Father, you will sort it all out for me as you always do. Yes, you will. “
Father sits trying to look calm himself but in a whirlwind of confusion. He knows he has to be strong for the both of their sakes, it has to be done especially because he can see Mother’s skirt trembling which is an indication that she too is trembling a little inside. Her silence normally speaks in great volumes, other people prefer to let their body language speak and then there is Father, who says what he feels most of the time.
The man in the wig enters but all Steve notices is his wig, not the man or his role. Steve smiles at the start of this so-called intelligent man. He strokes his own head and nods his head, as his hair does look better, so he thinks. There are formalities and introductions int
o things, asking if Steve understands his case. Lots of people sit taking notes, busily observing, all being nosy yet again. Someone gets up then and takes a seat, looking perfectly serious.
Steve doesn’t see the point of today, life’s been a lot like that for a few years now. He can hear the conversations but he firmly fixes his eyes on the wall where the clock shows the exact time as his watch. Something that is right today.
So many people have spoken, so many conversations are had and then Steve is asked to go and stand elsewhere and give his name and to be truthful. Steve looks into Father’s eyes to get his approval on what he should do. Father nods so Steve speaks hesitantly, saying that his name is Steve Smith and that he will tell the truth because he always does. Steve remains calm and collected and points out that he does not know why he will be asked all these tricky and confusing questions but is told to try and only answer the question being asked rather than going off track.
Somehow, the questions asked do not match the answers much. These questions keep going round and round. Steve starts his own version, the same version he told his father but is told not to go off the point but the kind wig man is compassionate and he asks Steve to continue in his own time. There is a very long pause, the wig man repeats himself. Steve starts rubbing his hands along on his trousers to dry the sweat whilst clearing his dry throat and Steve starts.
“You see, I did nothing to Gabriella. She liked me. I liked her. We both were made for one another, but the rest of the world had a problem with us. I mean, her friends didn’t like to come to me or talk to me much, they always kept telling her not to talk to me and on that awful night we were just talking. She fell and hit her head. It was just a silly mistake, an accident, and then she was just relaxing with me and then, of course, someone else didn’t mind their own business and they followed us to the cellar. We were just talking and drinking and enjoying ourselves together. Then, of course, this woman came in, as I was saying, and she left and I’m sure she was the one who called the cop shop and why, I just simply cannot understand. Why, oh why did this woman, her being the woman who lives upstairs, have to spoil things by calling the law? They swiftly came and took her away from me and that’s it, the end. They kept me in for a little while for some silly questions, questions that had no answers and then Father turned up and all was fine. I don’t know why they have brought me here today to be honest.”
“Are you finished or do you have anything more to add?”
Steve nods his head. Everyone stands up for the judge to leave and then others start to go. Father, Mother and Steve and some of the legal team stand still till the room is empty, inside and outside. The legals are all talking to Father and they all have serious faces. Steve sits in this world, confused. Don’t they even know or make sense of what they are saying, what is all the fuss about? Father’s face looks very grim and sad. He can’t even look up at Steve but then Steve feels that all is fine, so why is everyone looking glum?
Chapter Five
Tides go in quickly but the time has gone by slowly. People had gone to lunch and sandwiches were eaten quickly, cheese seeping through the mayonnaise whilst women tried hard to save their skirts from stains and coffee sipped down the dry croaky throats and biscuits, Jammie dodgems and rich tea, dunked slowly into cups of P.G. tips teabags.
Steve has no sense of time as afternoon has nearly finished when everyone is asked to come back. Steve’s father offers him tea and Mother brings some sandwiches from the machine but all Steve can say is that he had breakfast not too long ago. Clearly, he can see from the clock that it is afternoon now. He looks at his own watch, he rubs the face of his watch over and over with his shirt. He bangs it with his fingers then gently taps the glass face and still the time on his watch is the same, one o’clock. So why can’t Steve relate to the real time in life or is he in his own time?
Everyone goes back into the same room and everyone is silent, still and stiff. Steve keeps saying to Father that the time on his watch and the clock is wrong, he keeps saying he wants to know the real time, the real time in his life, not others. Father shushes Steve but Steve is very agitated by now, rubbing his head, sniffing his fingers because he knows that his hair is not smelling of Pantene today because he had not had the time to wash his hair. Slowly, he puts his fingers through his hair again, nothing changes so he rubs his hands up and down his thighs, scrubbing his hands till they look a little redder.
Father keeps telling Steve to relax and calm down but no matter how much he tries, Steve just can no longer contain himself. His own uncertainty in his own mind has started to play mind games, quite common with him, and Steve feels trapped in his own mind and uncertain. An uncomfortable person is living alongside Steve now, without Steve being able to control anything.
He feels like getting up but Father and Mother are on either side and all these strangers peering at him from under their glasses are looking and talking about him. His ears cannot hear it but his head can hear their murmurs. Even their silence spells out words to Steve. Yes, Steve understands silence well. They are laughing at him and taunting Steve.
Father tries his level best to calm Steve and his inner self, his inflicted demons, but Steve is distraught by now and calming him down seems so far from what is going to happen. The man with the big wig has come and Steve just follows his parents as they pull him to stand in respect and then everyone sits down when the judge shows his finger and some speeches are delivered but in Steve’s mind, it is all gibberish language.
“Mr Smith, do you understand what has just been said?” Steve hears only his name so he smiles quizzingly. “Do you know what the jury has just delivered? Mr Smith, do you know what verdict has been delivered?”
The judge asks but Steve has no clue that he is being asked anything. In fact, the judge’s voice is over ridden by all the other people’s voices taunting Steve. Father turns to Steve with a blank face asking Steve if he heard anything or the details of what was said. He ignores Father and for the very first time, he turns his face to Mother, his own mother and asks her why she is sobbing. She gently replies that she isn’t but Steve can clearly see that she is.
He moves his right thumb up and wipes away her tears. She tries her best to smile back at her vulnerable child but she can’t manage. He tells her that she’ll be all right, he won’t let anything happen to her and to ignore what these people say and that he’ll protect her as always, no matter what and to stop crying, he’ll take care of everything. Well, not everything but take care of her. He will look after her, he can and he promises her that he will.
Father moves out of the way as the men in crispy clean uniforms come to Steve and aid him towards the big black door.
“Huh, another black hole,” Steve starts panicking as the security guards put handcuffs on his left arm and the other on their own arm. Together. A few walk in front and a couple behind them.
As he enters through the door, he looks back at his parents. Steve looks at his mother’s eyes but utters nothing. Steve is a broken man but feels that Mother is in more pain than him.
Father comes up to Steve and shakes his free hand and whispers, “Take care, Son,” with his head bowed firmly down in shame, too sad to be able to look into his son’s eyes, he could not live up to the promise that he had made to look after Steve. He has let him down yet again, last time Steve knew, but this time Steve has no clue. He is clueless. He has hit rock bottom and no one can lift him up. Steve seems quite oblivious to reality.
Mother comes toward him, still with tears dripping. He looks at her and smiles a little, telling her that it will all be fine, he will be fine knowing that she is well but she must stop crying. He hates it when she cries so she must never cry in life so long as he is alive. He tells her that he has heard her cry far too often behind closed doors and muffled through her handkerchief and not to cry anymore, as those days are over. He puts his right arm around her shoulders like a w
arm scarf for a hug that he has almost forgotten about in life. At that point, he starts crying ever so loudly as they walk him through the door into a long tunnel with no lights and no end, like empty hallways that lead into the darkness.
Father puts the key into the dark car’s engine to start it for their onward journey. It feels dark and lonely today as the journey goes by in silence.
Mother waits for Father to put the key into the front door lock as they both look down and walk inside the empty house as parents without their child but at least as husband and wife. His hand is flat on the light button as he quietly switches the darkness into a little light. Their eyes meet for the first time in a very, very long time as he tells her that her face shows the strain that he has put them both through, the agonising pain that he has caused them both.
He tells her that he is the culprit who has aged her and brought Steve to his aching knees. She acts not nor does she utter any words, she can’t even bring herself to smile, but she stands still and cannot erase the strain lines from her face or her forehead even though she stands rubbing her head furiously. Her eyes are red, sore and swollen. She continues to look at him as she slowly goes into their bedroom and closes the door behind her.
She changes into her nightclothes, opens the bedroom door and sinks into the sofa, her face half made up and half not. She puts all her mousy hair into a turban and ties it loosely at the top, as the short bits fall around her nape. He has already kicked off his shoes and put the kettle on. He can hear the kettle simmering away as he looks into the darkness outside. He does not draw the blind as today he wants the total darkness to come inside. He wants to be swallowed up within the unknown, like Steve. He can’t bear the silent words or the near miss glances. It might just make him wander into negative thoughts. They both sit on one sofa, on either end, sipping the sweet tea that Father made, even though she never has sweet tea. Their tongues have no words but then their minds are full. Father keeps thinking that if he had not left, Steve would be a perfectly normal healthy man now. It was all his doing, all his fault and he alone is at fault.
In My Mind Page 9