A Sweet Memoir!

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They used to be a very loving couple. During weekends, after preparing breakfast; she will come and greet us with hugs and kisses then we will be taking a warm bath together. The rest of the day will be spent strolling in the park and doing grocery. Occasionally, we will be having picnic or organizing field excursion with luncheons pre-arranged by mom.

In a fine December morning, while at the play land, I saw dad embracing mom with great height after which she has whispered something to him. At first, I thought it was nothing extraordinary, but after hearing the news that she was pregnant, I jump up with joy. Within the same week, the entire family holds a banquet, inviting my grandparents over.

The next consecutive day, dad goes down town one day, with mom. I am staying home with the part-time sitter. They arrived eventually, in the evening, with lots of goodies for Christmas, while I am in the kitchen refilling water. I can see from afar the largest odd-shaped item, wrapped in glassy floral paper; being put away before mom and I stepped in.

I guessed it must be for mom. Then hand-in-hand we refurbished the interior with Christmas tree, fanciful lights, balloons and cute handmade clay toys with bells and glitters, and not to be left-out socks with our names sew on it.

On Eve of Christmas, we had grilled turkey and friends were invited for dinner. The food was excellent. Mom has specially hired a chaperon, somewhere in Italy, to make this dinner a success. The environment too is very cozy like a match made in heaven. We had chats, drinks and games whilst listening to carols prior midnight where we countdown. A wonderful evening we had, and shortly thereafter, I have fallen asleep.

My slumber was disturbed by the break of dawn. I strolled down the hall. To my astonishment the gift seen yesterday was lying before me. Since it has my name printed, I unearthed the gift without any haste.

Stood before me was a 12” teddy bear. I examined it carefully then discovered it was actually wearing a platinum necklace with a shining stone. “This set of gift has seen advertised on a TV commercial sometimes ago, but how would they know my desire when, in fact, I have not disclosed to anyone at all?” I thought silently, “or, do they have the ability to read my mind?” I try to consider every possibility.

I still continued glaring at the stone, mesmerized, enthralled by its dazzling beauty. With an approval smile, they revealed the authenticity of the masterpiece. “What, 0.3 carat diamond?” I repeated after them with a glow stamped on my face. I jumped up, embraced both my parents, astonished, thanking them for being so thoughtful and prudent.

Meanwhile, as the approaching of 2^nd trimester, mom was getting more lethargic due to the pregnancy complications therefore a maid is hired. She helped mom with the laundry and some gardening while waiting for the arrival of the baby somewhere in September. The baby has finally arrived, earlier than expected. Everyone was ‘rushing-in’ to view the baby.

For the whole week, I felt a sense of left-out, lonesome, introvert and on top of all this, inferior and green with jealousy. Mom noticed something pretty wrong with me. She sneaks in during bedtime, one day, to ‘untangle’ me.

“On the day you were born, things were even worst,” she intricate, “with people dashing-in to witness our little miracle and even mom is being thrust aside.”

She added, “Trust me, dear, their curiosity will ease after another couple of months.” Before leaving, she kissed my forehead, stroked my silky hair then left with an affirmative smile. She meant the whole world to me. Every word is accounted vividly in my memory box until this very day. I appreciate every single deed and the struggles she has done in bringing me up and for this family.

(to be continued)

Art of Living

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Ultimately, we have arrived at the basement terminal. A typical feeling was strongly felt as I screened through the place. There was no welcoming crowd, unlike those homecoming events back in New York. I looked away, despaired. Here I can see many strangers were shuffling in and out either with welcoming or escorting, weeping and binding farewell, all comes with a reason.

We waited patiently for mom who has went to the information counter, with our luggage placed on the ground; next to the benches where we were resting. It was a sore to the eye seeing scavengers all over the place. Unexpectedly, my view is distracted when a kiddo walked up to me begging ‘some offerings’. With no more than a blank stare, there was no other reaction to offer. I was simply too exhausted.

I gazed as she turned around, walking towards another adolescent. Never denying they lead a miserable living, in search for food and shelters, but I believed they have better alternative than to becoming a scavenger, haven’t they? My eyebrows knitted, pondering the qualms we will be facing in this foreign land.

Shortly thereafter, mom came back with the information, “The bus terminal is located three blocks away from the main station.”

Whether we like it or not, we ought to be there to catch the five and a quarter shuttle that will bring us to our destination. And, with the load of our luggage and tiring limbs, we staggered all the way there.

“Just another few miles away,” mom reassured us, constantly.

We were lucky to get there in time. The bumpy ride, of ten minutes, halted at a drink-commercial bus stop. There was no farther instruction given after alighting from the shuttle. We stood there a while, waiting, scrutinizing the place. Dickens has begun to itch uneasily due to the steaming heat and has a sore shoulder by helping Jaclyn to carry her luggage from the terminal. Again, I looked at mom expecting an instruction or something. But she simply wasn’t focusing the path we were heading.

“Have we gone astray?” I asked in a coarse tone, without even allowing her another second to think. I’m not sure we have made the right decision, in the first place.

Not very far away, I saw this vague shadow. It was waiving towards our direction. The figure was getting much closer. She was short and stout, about 230 lbs with curly gray hair. I caught a glimpse of her deep sagging cleavage when she bends forward to speak to Jaclyn.

I turned to mom just managed to catch sight of her face that glows with a wide smile upon seeing her. She is greeted as Mrs. Baker. According to their dialogue, it is learn that she was duly responsible for our well-beings in Carolina and was bringing us to our new home. Along the route, there are many stray cats, old benches with bird droppings and junk rusty items.

“Please help yourselves out,” she pronounced, handling over a bunch of keys to mom “I will be back shortly with dinner.”

We walked unwillingly down a little stone path, still with the load on our shoulders, heading towards the main entrance of our new home. I simply couldn’t tell how awesome the others felt when the main door opens up wide before us. With another few puffs of wind and a thin mattress, I bet, we could easily fall into deep slumber.

Our floor area was barely 480 square feet. You can see everything in just one glance: a bedroom, an airy hall, some light furniture, our luggage and, our uninvited guests, house flies. I saw how despaired mom was, looking at the stove, without her dreamed kitchen and those favorite utensils.

Eventually twilight has come to greet us together with some creepy noises originate from pest and inserts from every loop holes you can find. We exchanged sinister gazes each time upon hearing those sounds, fearing that they might have an attempt to attack us.

The next morning started early. On the dining table, there was a note seeking us to help ourselves with the prepared breakfast as mom has gone down town to make several essential purchases. While waiting for her arrival, we unload our clothes from the luggage then stacked in the dark oak wardrobe, and do some simple chores.

A thunderous engine was heard, pulling up at our compound. Without seconds, we had run to the entrance to check out what happened. There it was mom, in tomboyish attires, alighting from the front seat instructing workers to unload some newly brought furniture. I stared at mom awkwardly as I have never remembered an instance mom putting-on such attires before. She looked, as though, braced up to face the uncertainties.

Meanwhile, it was astounding seeing workers unloading piece by piece of furniture into our residence: a set of sofa with cabinet, a queen-sized bed then on the installations while the other man doing some wiring work at the patio for electrical appliances.

The one and only power point installed by Mrs. Smith earlier wasn’t appropriate for high voltage electrical appliances, but I couldn’t figure out the reason behind the extra two installations at the other end of the patio.

Upon the removal of plastics wrappings of the sofa, we seated contently with a beam printed on our face. Mom walked to us looking impressed then uttered, “I have taken up an odd job doing laundry for the neighborhood starting next week after the machines arrived.”

“But mom, I thought I heard machines,” I sought for confirmation.

“Yeap, I brought two,” she added, “one is for dry cleaning with front opening,” walking away to double check the arrangements at the patio.

I followed her swiftly behind. She might have expected I will be throwing her with a dozen of questions. Before I even started, she uttered in a convincing tone, “Honey, no worries,” she said while reaching out for the gardening equipments brought earlier, “Mrs. Smith and I have make necessary arrangements. She will be in-charge of bringing in those laundries and circulating back to customers.” I just kept quiet, visualizing over the scenario, hoping there wouldn’t be any setbacks.

“By the way do you mind giving me a hand,” she invited me to do some gardening, diverting my attention away. The rest of the day spent, apart from touching up the compound, we have cat naps then stroll down the neighborhood, to the hardware shop located at the corner of junction.

Since school will only be commencing in a couple of months later, I offered mom some help with her odd jobs which was mostly in drying up and packing the laundries. Time flies and it was almost end of a season.

(to be continued)

story continues...

The day arrives, eventually. We have geared up and are heading our way to the train station located southeast of our resident. Penelope will not be around. We are escorted by our sixty-five-years-old ex-chauffeur, Mr. Davis Brown, to the station.

When we arrived there, it has already packed with different ethnic groups from different society levels. Dickens and Jaclyn can’t wait to see our new home at Charleston furthermore this was our first opportunity riding on a train.

But, things weren’t as simple as mom has told us earlier. I just can sense it, somehow. I steal glances of mom now and then. She seems to be frowning, puzzling about something beyond words. Then I heard of whistles blowing, indicating its’ time for abroad. We managed to find ourselves a compartment next to the window, just right in front of the entrance of the 1^st class cabin.

I looked out through the window panes, as the engine rumbles, admiring gorgeous countryside scenery. The brisk wind, softly puffed my facial hair and fringe leaving behind a tiny hint of morning dew from the green forest. I witnessed gaurs plough the field whilst young kids fooling around with their Sheppard Dog and cows licking its’ calves.

My attentions turned to my siblings. Dickens and Jaclyn were busy whispering to themselves – too indulged in their fantasies, I guessed, while Chuck has fast fallen asleep, with the pacifier dangling loosely on his half opened lips, in mom’s loving care.

When I steered my attention back to the outside scene, I saw an army of militants jogging along the river bank with echoes of command as we were passing through a valley. They were smartly dressed in tracksuits; looked tough and macho. It must be really something being a militant, I thought.

Craig simply slips into the picture, unnoticeably.

He has been nice and gentle all this while, at least, from the first impression. I couldn’t figure it out why I haven’t got the courage to ring him up upon my arrival home the other day.

“Have I doubted his sincerity or is it due to some other reasons?” I reminded myself.

Why would a guy entertain a total stranger? He didn’t even know what my last name is. And, must I border to ring him up at the first place; furthermore he is a million miles away from me.

“No, it wasn’t true,” I doubted.

“One thing for sure is I am missing him constantly,” I frowned, adding some wrinkles to my face.

“Since this is the case, how should I start my teleconversation? And, what if he couldn’t recall a single incident at the beach nor the café? Perhaps, he could have ‘deleted’ me from his database, after all these years.”

A long screeching sound was then heard when the engine pulls up indicating we have arrived at the exchange station. We take this opportunity to freshen ourselves up. It only reaches our turn after a long, extensive queue. We had some bread and tit-bits for luncheon, at the cafeteria, which mom has prepared earlier.

We only headed-off our second half journey when the sound of horn was blown. As more passengers entered into the Economic Class compartment, the train bustled with charters, mixed with the sound of luggage being stowed.

Despite the restricted space, I have heard Chuck complaining of pins and needles over his left leg. The naggings were very irritating however mom was very patience and ingenious of thinking ways to persuade him.

(to be continued)