“Are you there God? It’s me, Annie. I want to know if you are really real.”
That’s how I start my prayer. I am four, kneeling by the side of my bed, praying for my new baby brother. At least that is the way it is in my memory.
I know I am four because I am exactly four years older than Adam and he was just born.
Today is the day Mommy and Daddy will bring him home from the hospital.
It is winter. It is snowing. I am worried.
Grandma is standing by the window with the lacy curtain pulled to the side so she can see the road.
In a low voice, She says. “This looks like a blizzard.”
Then she looks at me and says in a strong voice. “I am sure they will get home safe.”
Her voice gets lower and she says, almost to herself.
“Carl had to bring them home. He couldn’t afford to pay for another day in the hospital.”
I rise and go to the window.
I say. “I can’t see our mailbox. It’s all covered in snow.”
Grandma says. “Don’t worry. The roads are clear.”
I am still worried. Daddy spent all morning shoveling the drive way all the way down to black, but new snow has coated the drive with a thin layer of white-like icing on a cake.
Will Daddy be able to get up the car up the drive? The first part is steep like a hill. The car is old and breaks down a lot, but it is big and heavy. It will be able to get over a little snow. Won’t it?
A huge gust of wind scatters snow everywhere. I shiver.
“They are coming!” Grandma rushes down the staircase.
She grabs my coat and gloves from the end of the banister. I already have my boots on so I can run out to meet my new brother. Grandma wanted me to say inside, but I insisted. When she saw the big tear roll down my cheek, she gave in.
I fly out the front door just as the big, yellow Buick turns into the driveway. Daddy is going slow, but not too slow. He has to get it going fast enough to make the hill. When he reaches the flat part; he stops.
The snow stings my face. The wind whistles. I stomp down the porch steps and march through the snow to stand by the car.
Daddy gets out and walks around to Mommy’s side, holding onto the car so he doesn’t slip. He opens the door and takes a bundle from Mommy. It must be the baby. He helps Mommy out of the car. She shrinks back from the cold and wind. He places the bundle in her arms.
“Mommy, Daddy! I want to see the baby.”
Mommy’s face is stone.
“Get in the house!” Daddy’s voice is carried away by the wind.
I don’t follow them into the house. I watch Mommy’s progress-slow and steady-one foot in front of the other never bothering about the snow. She looks like a queen.
I am afraid for my brother. Things are not good at our house. Sometimes Mommy goes away in her mind. She will sit all day at the kitchen table smoking cigarettes, a cold cup of coffee in front of her. She stares out the window at nothing at all and doesn’t speak.
It is OK for me. I am a big girl and take care of myself. I can even make Campbell’s Tomato Soup for me and Mommy. I slide the red blob of soup out of the can into a pan then add a can of milk
I the pull my stool over to the stove, put the pan down and turn on the burner. I have been doing this for along time. I use the big wooden soon to stir. I never let it burn.
Mommy never eats hers.
By the next day she is usually better but what will happen to the baby?
Don’t babies need to eat all the time and have their diapers changed?”
I stand shivering as the wind howls. I look over at the garage. Why didn’t Daddy put the car in the garage? The creaky garage door will get all frozen. I see something covered in snow, a lump but not like a snowdrift, just something pressed against the garage door. I walk over, lifting my feet high in the deepening snow. I kneel down and brush away ice crystals. It is our big Momma cat. She is white like the snow. Her silky fur is frozen. She is stiff. She has kittens is the garage. Didn’t Daddy see her trying to get to them when he was shoveling?
Again, I think of my new brother as helpless as a kitten himself. How will he survive?
I don’t try to pick up the Momma cat. It is too late. Too late for her kittens too.
I trudge back to the house. The lights are on even though it is only 4:00 PM.
The wind blows snow in with me. Mommy is sitting in the rocking chair, the baby in her lap. Her face is still like stone.
Grandma is bustling in the kitchen. I can smell my favorite dinner, Hungarian Goulash. I wander into the kitchen, Grandma wipes her hands on her apron. She opens her arms wide and I rush into them, burying my head in her big, warm breasts.
She hugs me back.
“What is it, Lambkin?”
“I’m afraid for the baby.”
She rocks me back and forth.
“There is news-some good-some not so good.” She swallows hard. “You know your Mommy isn’t well.”
I nod.
“She must go away for a while to get better. I will stay with you and your new brother.”
A wave of relief washes over me. I love Mommy-I really do but…
I walk back into the living room and stand by Mommy’s chair. She is staring at that place only she can see.
“Mommy?” My voice sounds small in my ears. She looks at me and runs her hand over the baby’s head.
“Isn’t he beautiful?”
I nod.
“I will come back when I am well and we will all play together.”
I never saw my mother again.
“Are you there God?”
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2 comments
Wow powerful story. I was with the little girl the whole way. Totally invested.
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It is good, I like it because it feels like a real story(from the start to the end).
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