“Not to worry. It’s a good sign that you have such a good appetite after such a bad fall.”
“So how about that pudding?” Mama asked, as she pushed he chair away from the table to get it.
“Well Mama, I feel so stuffed right now, I couldn’t eat another bite. Let me rest my stomach for a few minutes. Maybe after I help you clean up and make coffee, Johnny and I can take our dessert out on the back porch? That way no one will see me sitting outside with my robe on.”
“That is a wonderful idea. If you eat it now, you surely won’t enjoy it as much as you should.”
Her mother shooed her and Johnny into the living room and insisted that she would tidy up after dinner. Desire reclined on the couch and rubbed her stomach a little, now regretting about half of the food that she ate. She looked over at Johnny and he just smiled a little bit with a “What did you expect?” look on his face.
They both had so much to say to one another, but knew it would be foolish to even try to communicate in any manner while they were in her house. She closed her eyes for a moment and pictured Patrick jumping up and down in his crib. She longed to pinch his cheeks and hug him. Thinking about him, she could feel the tears starting to build up so she opened her eyes and focused on Johnny.
Seeing her mood change, he tried to distract her. “Desire, perhaps if you feel better you can come back to the shop tomorrow to continue to work on the toy prizes for the Celebration?”
“That would be nice. I am certain I will be back to my old self, and we have so much work to do to prepare for the big day.”
Johnny winked at Desire in approval. Desire felt proud of herself for playing the game so well.
After about ten minutes, Desire’s mother popped her head into the living room. “I have a tray with tea and your pudding on the kitchen table. You two may take it out to the back porch now. I will go upstairs and rest a little bit as this has been an exhausting day. Once your tea and dessert are done, it will be time for Johnny to leave.” She went over and kissed Desire on the head and then proceeded upstairs. “Thank you again, Johnny, for all your help.”
“My pleasure, Mrs. Winthrop.”
They got up and headed toward the back door. Johnny got the tray and took it outside. There was a little table between two wooden rockers and he set it there. Without a word, he took the pudding cups and a spoon and scooped the pudding out of the cups and flung it into the compost pile beside the house. Then he threw a little dirt on top to cover it up just in case a busybody came by. They both knew that the pudding was not a treat for her to feel better, but likely more drugs to assure her bump on the head didn’t interfere with her newly jumbled memory. He set both cups back on the tray and handed Desire a warm cup of tea.
He turned to her and smiled. “Tomorrow we will finish our toys and work on all the little details. It is the details at this point that will make the biggest difference.” Desire understood what he was saying and it had nothing to do with toys. They rocked in silence for a while and then Desire’s mother opened the back door.
“Come now, dear, you have had a long day and should go to bed to get a good night’s sleep. If you feel well enough tomorrow, you may go to Johnny’s father’s shop to continue to work on your toys. I will pack you both a lunch basket in the morning. For the next few days, you should stay home from Bible study. Papa will let you know when you can return.” She motioned for Desire to come in. Johnny stood up and got the tray with the empty tea cups and pudding bowls.
“Oh good! You were able to squeeze your dessert in.”
“Yes, Mama. It was delicious.”
Desire went straight to bed and thought about Patrick. This newfound memory confirmed for her that everything Johnny told her was true. Her dream was so real it almost didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like she had jumped right into the past and relived that morning with her little buddy.
Though the majority of her memory remained fuzzy, she could feel herself changing. She didn’t know for sure if she was changing because of all the strange, recent events or if her true self was fighting her way back into her consciousness. Most probably, both contributed to the changes she now experienced.
She felt a little scared of what might happen to her when her memory fully returned. This one wee memory brought on a cascade of emotions and although the memory itself was joyous, it ultimately weighed heavily on her heart because it was a life she wasn’t sure she would ever get back. If her memory didn’t come back, who would she become?
Knowing she couldn’t go another night without sleep, she focused on breathing deeply and tried to force herself to think of nice things. Try as she might, she could not. Her options were limited right now. She could try to think of the good times that were manufactured in this crazy world, but she knew that would lead to more sinister thoughts. She could try to think about Patrick, but that would just make her heart ache even more. Johnny’s image flashed into her mind, not surprisingly. He was her new constant. Johnny provided her with the link between what was and what is. She longed for him to come to her tonight, but she felt almost certain he would not. Given what she now knew, she suspected that her house might be under observation given her accident earlier in the day.
If They only knew what was really going on inside my head!
She pictured herself with Johnny sitting by the creek in the forest the very first day they kissed. He had looked so handsome and rugged. And at that time she had been so innocent. Now she felt a thousand old with as many secrets buried deep inside of her.
As sleep continued to evade her, Desire got up and walked over to her desk. She didn’t turn on her light in case anyone was watching the house. She pulled out the little notebook her father had given her and decided that she needed to record all that had and was about to go on. Something inside her told her that this information would be valuable at some time.
Writing by moonlight, she spent the rest of the night recording detailed accounts of everything she could think of. She recorded descriptions of the people here. She wrote down all notable events, including the run-in with Nathaniel, as painful as it was to recall. She drew little maps of the community and floor plans of all the buildings she had been in. She set aside several pages at the back of the book for her dreams and her memories – both the ones she suspected were false and the old ones from her real life that had begun to resurface.
The hours flew by while she recorded these things. In the end, she felt surprised at how good she felt. She didn’t feel good about the situation, but she felt liberated as though recording the things in black and white helped her take control of her destiny.
Now she had to find a safe place to store the notebook. Carrying it around would be too risky; there was so much detail in the notebook that if she accidently dropped it or lost it, it wouldn’t take long for someone to figure out that it was hers. It occurred to her that she could bring it to Johnny’s workshop tomorrow and he could hide it for her with his notebook. For now, she put it under her pillow.
As morning sun crept up into the sky, light streamed into her room. Although she only slept for a couple of hours, she woke up feeling refreshed. Her sleep had been dreamless and, for that, she felt grateful. She stretched a little and got up out of her bed. She peeked out of her bedroom window but didn’t see anything that looked unusual.
The smell of coffee wafted up from the kitchen and was very comforting. Her mother must be up fixing breakfast already. She dressed quickly then reached for the little notebook under her pillow. She took it into the bathroom and secured it snuggly in her bosom wrap. It felt a little awkward, but she knew the chance of it falling out was almost impossible. She brushed her hair, careful not to aggravate the cut on her head. Already, it looked better. If she brushed her hair a certain way, it was almost completely covered.
When she was all finished, she headed downstairs to meet Mama in the kitchen. As she did so, part of her felt a little odd. This woman, her ‘mother’, was the only mother she knew—or
at least remember—and yet, she knew that this lady was a complete stranger to her. Not wanting to explore these complicated feelings so early in the morning, Desire decided that for the time being, this lady had been her mother all the while she had lived in Hemac. And she had to admit, fabricated or not, Mama had been a good and loving mother to her. In fact, she felt a little sad. Where had this lady come from? Was there a family out there wondering what had happened to their wife and mother? How long had Mama been here? Her mother had shared memories from when she was a child, but Desire had no way of knowing if that was just a false memory or whether this lady had grown up in this awful, twisted place and it was the only home she knew.
When she got down to the kitchen her mother turned and smiled to her. “Good morning beautiful girl. Did you sleep okay last night? I made you one of your favourites: pancakes with fresh blueberries!”
Overwhelmed with emotion, Desire went to Mama and hugged her tightly. As out of character as this seemed for Desire, her mother hugged her back. She didn’t say anything, just hugged her.
“I love you, Mama.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” Mama said. She looked at her daughter for a moment and then turned to pour Desire a cup of coffee.
Desire took the cup and sat down at the table. The coffee tasted extra good this morning. As she sipped, she looked at her mother, a little differently this time. Her mother was beautiful, but not in a conventional way. She had soft brown hair which was always neatly tied back in a braid. Now, for the first time, Desire noticed that this woman she knew s her mother quite fine and thin hair. The woman’s skin was unremarkable and her hands were a little work worn. Her build was slight; quite thin, actually. She had brown eyes. Overall, she looked quite delicate, but not in the china doll sort of way. The only way Desire could describe this fragility was that of a person who had been through a long rough life.
“You look very deep in thought, dear. What are thinking about?” Mama sat a plate of beautiful blueberry pancakes down for each of them. She then filled up each of their coffee cups and sat down beside Desire. Desire just shrugged and started to eat. They ate in silence for a while and then Desire turned to her mother.
“Mama, what is your favourite memory as a child? What is the one memory that you go to when you are feeling blue and helps you feel better?”
Mama finished the bite of pancake in her mouth and looked up at her daughter. She stared at her for a moment thoughtfully and then her lips scrunched into a little frown. Then she stared into her coffee cup saying nothing. Desire assumed she was trying to determine what memory that was. Her mother seemed to make a silent decision, but much to Desire’s surprise she just continued eating her breakfast. In fact, she acted as though a question had never been asked. Desire did not relent, however.
“Well Mama, what do you think? Do you have a favourite memory?”
Mama just continued eating until her plate was empty. She seemed completely zoned out even seemed to ignore Desire. She got up from the table and brought her dirty dishes to the sink. She then went to the cupboard and got out the bottle of vitamins. She poured out three of them and handed them to Desire. “Take your vitamins darling. Take a few extra to help you heal after your little fall yesterday.”
Desire pretended to pop the pills in her mouth, but actually kept the vitamins in the palm of her hand. As she drank her water, she let the pills fall into her lap when her mother turned back to the counter. She would be sure to slip them into the pocket of her skirt in a moment. She decided not to push the questions because her mother’s response, or lack thereof, was very peculiar. Instead, she went in a different direction to help recover the conversation.
“Well, my favourite memory, Mama, is that first day we sat in the sunroom and you shared your family recipe book with me for the first time. It was like I felt a new bond with you and your ancestors.” She smiled up at her mother and watched her mother’s strange demeanor change almost instantly. If she didn’t know any better, she thought her mother let out a sigh of relief. She brought over the coffee pot and refilled their cups with the last of the brew.
“That is a lovely memory, dear,” Mama said as she sat down again. “I have so many wonderful memories, I suppose it is hard to pick a favourite!” She took a sip of her coffee and Desire noticed her mother’s hands were shaking just a little. “My favourite memories are all with you, my dear. You are the light of my light and I was blessed to have you come into my life. Each day with you is a gift that I feel truly thankful for. Before I had you, I was nothing special. With you, I have love in my life each and every day.” She reached out and squeezed Desire’s hand for a minute, smiling, but looking sad. “I know that one day soon you will leave me and I have always known that that day would come.” She squeezed her daughter’s hand a little harder and then let go. Her eyes were a little moist, but she did not cry. She smiled at Desire and got up from the table. She washed the dishes and then got ready to go to the church. Desire felt grateful that she was excused from Bible Study today. Her mother hadn’t yet packed a lunch for Johnny and her, so she got the picnic basket out and proceeded to fill it with sandwiches, cookies, fruit and bottles of lemonade. As she poured the lemonade she laughed, remembering how Johnny ate his sandwich marinated in the spilled lemonade.
“What are you laughing at, honey?” Her mother questioned her as she came back to the kitchen from upstairs.
“Oh, I was just thinking about how I spilled lemonade on Johnny’s sandwich the other day and he was such a gentleman, he ate it anyway.”
“Well, he is a very sweet boy, my dear. If he is the one you leave me for, I won’t feel all that sad because I will know you are in safe and loving hands.”
Desire continued to pack the lunch. When the basket was filled, Desire brought it to the front door.
“I will walk over to the workshop now, Mama. With the Celebration coming next week, we have to get those prizes done.” She put on her shoes and went over to kiss her mother on her cheek, but her mother held back. Mama seemed fidgety. To Desire’s surprise, Mama followed her daughter to the door.
“Mama?”
Mama adjusted the collar on her blouse and smoothed her skirt, seemingly in an effort to calm her nerves. “I am going to walk you over to the workshop so that I can make sure you don’t have any problems, Desire,” she stated somewhat confidently. “It would also be nice to say hello to Johnny’s father and thank him for his hospitality.”
Desire’s anxiety level shot up immediately. There was no father to meet or workshop to see. This was awful. What could she do to stop her mother? If she argued with her or tried to convince her not to, that would only raise suspicions. Play the game, Desire. Play the game.
“I think that is a fantastic idea, Mama! I would love for us to walk together.” Desire’s tone was just as ‘confident’ as her mother’s.
As they walked toward the workshop, Desire’s stomach knotted up and she started to sweat a little. The scars on Johnny’s back kept flashing through her mind’s eye. She actually winced thinking of what They might do to her and Johnny if discovered. The scariest part for her right now was that she didn’t even know who They were. She and her mother walked in silence most of the way. Desire was incapable of making small talk as the dread continued to build inside of her.
Her mother didn’t seem to notice and continued to walk purposefully toward the workshop. As they got closer, Desire could hear loud noises coming from within. It sounded like buzzing, except it was really, really loud.
When they got to the building, the office door was propped open. Seeing them, Johnny walked to greet them.
“Good morning, ladies! Desire, Mrs. Winthrop. What a nice surprise to see you, Mrs. Winthrop.”
“Good morning, Johnny,” Mama stated politely. “I wanted to come over personally to thank your father for his hospitality in letting you two use his workshop.”
The buzzing sounds continued from inside the workshop. Desire noticed the workshop do
or was closed. She could hear things moving around in there. In fact, it sounded quite busy.
“That is very thoughtful, Mrs. Winthrop, but I will have to relay the message for you. My father is working right now and I have strict instructions not to disturb him. He has a strict rule about no visitors in the workshop while he is working. It is too dangerous...”
“I see,” said Mama, a little uncomfortably.
“But don’t worry, Mrs. Winthrop. I have set up a little workstation here in the office so Desire will not be a risk. Sometimes the sun gets a little hot through the office windows, so there is a nice table on the back porch with some shade. We may work back there to avoid overheating.”
Her mother looked around and stepped into the office. There was a box of half painted little toys, various paints and a tin can full of little brushes.
“Mrs. Winthrop, would you like to stay and paint with us?”
Wow, that Johnny was good. It seemed as though nothing phased him! He just rolled with everything. If only I felt that confident, Desire thought to herself. Her stomach had begun to settle down a little but she still felt nervous about the phantom father in the workshop.
“Well, as much fun as that sounds, I suspect they will miss me at the church if I don’t get over there soon.” Mama looked around for a few moments; at what, Desire could not tell. Her mother still seemed fidgety. Desire wondered whether her mother was acting strangely, or if it was actually her own anxiety manifesting these observations.
“Well, you two have fun,” she finally said. “Johnny, will you please escort Desire home this afternoon? She needs to be home by three o’clock. Mr. Winthrop will return home tonight from Work and Desire needs to have dinner made by the time he gets there.”
“Of course, Mrs. Winthrop. No problem.”
“Desire, please make some fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy for tonight. Please make enough for up to six people as we may have guests tonight. Also, please be sure to bake a nice pie or cake for dessert. Have dinner ready for precisely at six o’clock. I may be home in time to help you finish up.”
Who We Are Page 17