I can't bear it!

As I swung my bare legs out of the bed I could already feel the heat. Flimsy curtains weren’t enough to stop it coming through the thin glass – it had penetrated the walls and roof of this small house for weeks - an unwelcomed guest, irritating and annoying to the people who lived here.

I picked up the face cloth from the floor that had been my helper in the night – my soggy saviour who I dabbed on my hot and sweaty face and neck, allowing me a few hours’ sleep. I had felt like tipping a cup of water over my head at 3am but thought again because I knew it would only cool me momentarily. I envied the people with pools who could dive into the dark water at whatever time they felt like. They could sit by the pool wet, and in the warm night air still feel refreshed.

My husband stirred in the bed, sat upright and asked me “Why are you up so early? Get back in”. And he kicked the threadbare sheet of himself. “I’m hot already. How much longer can we put up with this heat” he moaned, stretching his arms high above his big hairy stomach and making a sound that was between a dog howling and a baby bear growling.

I walked into the kitchen and getting a glass from the overhead cupboard turned the cold tap on. I say ‘cold’ but it was actually warm. It was definitely cooler than the hot water but not by much. I didn’t care that it wasn’t cold – my mouth was dry from the small fan blowing directly on me all night, but just to have a tiny bit of breeze blowing around the bedroom I would put up with a dry mouth and sore eyes the next morning.

Why do we always turn to the kettle when we feel a bit down and irritated? I have often wondered about this. I remember when I got dismissed from my job in the supermarket…”Sorry Mary” they told me in the cramped and stuffy office. “It’s just a case of last on and first off. We’ll keep you on our books of course. Mind yourself on the way out love’. And with that piece of bad news went any thoughts of buying a new washing machine and any chance we had of going away for a couple of days. So what did I do after that life depressing news? I walked home and put the kettle on. I made a nice cup of tea. “A cup of tea solves the problems of the world” my Mum used to say. I would visit my Mother in her tiny bedsit, and hear the traffic of the motorway that ran just outside her front door. I can still see her arthritic riddled hands absent mindedly touch the  blue, chipped porcelain container of my Dad’s ashes that left her a widow at thirty five years of age with four small children and not much money, and marvel that she still thought a cup of tea would get you through anything.

 The kettle whistled and I poured the boiling water into my cup with the tea -bag and let it brew. I could hear my husband walking around in our bedroom, so made him a cup too. My nightie was clinging to me – it was short and sleeveless but my neck and back were damp with perspiration and I would probably regret the tea soon.

“Hi” came a sleepy tone from my daughter Jenna and I turned to look at her “Good morning Princess. You’re up early” I greeted her and went to give her a ‘good morning hug’. “Don’t touch me” her raised voice commanded. “I am really hot and sticky, and of course I’m up early. Who can sleep in when it’s like this? When is this heat wave going to end? I’m so sick of waking up tired. I didn’t get any sleep. It’s too hot Mum. Why can’t we have air-conditioning like some of the girls at school? We can never afford anything…ever.” She was raising her voice now to an angry tone and I knew her Dad could hear it. He was all for kids being assertive but not rude. I tried to calm her. “I can’t do anything about this heat Jenna. You’ve got your fan on your bedside table. That should help a little”. “That stupid little thing doesn’t help at all. It just swirls the hot air around. Why can’t we just have a ceiling fan then if we can’t afford air-conditioning? Surely that’s not asking too much?” Jenna’s father had walked into the kitchen now and he wasn’t happy. “If you can’t speak nicely to your mother Jenna then don’t speak”. He said to her, sitting down at the small dark kitchen table. I put his cup of tea down in front of him and his perspiring face looked up. “Why would I want a hot cup of tea?” he quizzed, pushing it aside. “Well you always have a cuppa.” I retorted, knowing what he would say next but not even caring. I was hot and uncomfortable too. “Well I can’t drink one today. That’s ridiculous on a hot morning like this”.

“You said I was rude to Mum. What do you think you are Dad? It’s alright for you to speak to everyone how you like. Well I will too.”

“While you’re living under this roof young lady, you do as you’re told”. He banged his hand on the table angrily, knocking over the tea cup. Brown liquid seeped into the floral table cloth but it didn’t seem to matter to them. Jenna started up again. ‘”Well I hate living under this roof right now. It’s too hot to sleep and we haven’t even got ceiling fans. And don’t say I’ve got a fan next to my bed. I’m sick of hearing that. I tried to open my window last night and when I finally got it open, because we don’t have fly screens all I could hear were dive bombing mozzies all night long. I hate that buzzing noise. I’ve got bites all over me. Look” she yelled, shoving her arm into his face. “Put some cream on them” was all he begrudgingly offered. “Now lift up what’s on the table so I can get this cloth off.”

“If you two have finished arguing, and as you’re not eating breakfast by the looks of it, can you both put any dirty washing you have in the laundry please. I need to get this washing done, if the machine behaves today. I’ll need to get it out on the line as early as possible. It’s going to be another scorcher and I don’t want everything faded from the sun.

The house really did feel hot. Each room seemed stuffy and oppressive. Mary walked into the laundry with the heavy basket of clothes and wanted to open the tiny wooden window, but knew that the only air drifting in would be hot. The washing machine was being nice today so she put a load on and quickly got out of what seemed like a mini oven.

“Where are you Jenna?” she called out towards her daughter’s bedroom.  An irritated “I’m here. What do you want?” came back. “I was just asking what you’re thinking of doing today, apart from your study, that’s all. Mitzy needs a walk. She hasn’t moved out of her basket since last night. I know it’s humid and uncomfortable outside but she needs exercise…and before it gets too hot”.

“Do I have to? Why can’t you?” sounded a moaning voice from out of the small bedroom. Isn’t she everyone’s pet? You can do it Mum”.

“No I’m not Jenna. She’s your dog so you need to walk her. We told you when we got her that you needed to take care of her. She’s your responsibility”.

“Alright then, I’ll walk her. Don’t blame me if she gets heat stroke. And I’ll probably get it too. It’ll be your fault”. With that Jenna, grabbed the dog lead, picked up the dog, stomped out of the front door, and slammed it behind her.

 Mary stood wiping the sweat from her forehead before it trickled down the side of her face. She could feel herself getting angry and knew the heat wasn’t helping. If it was a spring day and a gentle cool breeze was blowing through the house she would be saying something totally different to Jenna, like…..”Sweetie, I do need a bit of exercise myself, so I’ll let you off today by walking Mitzy but don’t tell your dad!” “That reminds me” Mary said out loud “Where is ‘dad’?

She could hear what she thought was a snoring sound coming from the room adjoining the kitchen. It was classed as a ‘lounge room’ but was only only big enough to fit a sofa, two small lounge chairs, and a television into it. It would be advertised in a real estate magazine as cosy and comfortable. It was both. At this very moment the man of the house was finding it very comfortable, and was having a sneaky morning nap on the sofa. Mary looked at him lying in his wet singlet and wondered how he could possible sleep in this heat. Just as she was about to turn to leave him in the land of nod, he stirred and opened his sleepy eyes. Rubbing them roughly he asked “How hot is it today? How the hell is anyone supposed to do anything? I was going to have a look at the back window where it doesn’t shut properly but I’m not going out there in this heat.” ”That’s just lazy” she yelled angrily. “Who do you think is going to walk to the market this morning to buy the veg? Me, that’s who. You’re just such a lazy lump. It’s not all about you Charlie. I’m hot too. I hardly slept a wink, but don’t let that worry you.” As she left the room, she turned for one last jibe “And put a towel under you. I don’t want your sweat on the couch”!

The front door opened and in walked a sullen and very red faced Jenna holding the dog. She took off her cap revealing her very damp curls, and let out a sigh of relief as all the hot air escaped from under the cap. “I told you it was too hot to walk out there”. She put the panting Mitzy down on the floor. Her little pale pink tongue was hanging out of her mouth.  “I had to carry her half way back. She refused to walk. Can you at least get us both some water….please”.

Jenna gulped down her glass of water without taking a breath and Mitzy lapped hers up the same way, droplets of water splashing onto the floor as her tongue darted in and out of the bowl.

“I’m having a shower and going out soon.” Jenna told her Mum “I’m meeting the group at the shopping centre. At least it will be cool there. I can’t bear to be stuck in this hot house. “Well that’s a good idea, but remember how much study you have to do this weekend”. Mary responded. She felt like saying to her daughter ‘I don’t want you wandering around that shopping centre all day long. You know how I feel about you doing that’ but thought that under these very ‘hot’ circumstances it wouldn’t be a wise thing to say.

She plodded into the kitchen to say goodbye to her Mum, so happy to be leaving the hot house to wander around in the air-conditioning of the shops. “Bye Mum. I’ll see you later”. Jenna’s attitude had changed and her mood had lightened. “What time will you be home?” Mary asked, holding her arms out for her hug. “I don’t know yet, I’ll see what everyone is doing, and don’t hug me, you’re all sweaty!”

Mary sat down at the kitchen table and ran her hands through her dark hair. The weariness of the heat had hit her already. She was usually a bundle of energy with a bouncy personality to match, but not today. Her tired head rested on her arms, which rested on the table and she closed her eyes, just for five minutes.

When Mary woke at the kitchen table she glanced at the clock on the well. ‘Oh my goodness’ she thought ‘I’ve been asleep for half an hour’. I must get going to the markets before there’s nothing left to buy. Her forearms were slippery on the table where she had been sweating and she could feel the front of her blouse was wet with perspiration. Pushing back her hair off her face she could feel it on her forehead too. ‘Oh I need a shower before I venture outside’ she said to herself as she tore a piece of kitchen paper off the roll and wiped the table. She walked past Mitzy lying flat on her back on the lino in the hall, puffing as if she had just finished a marathon. “Oh poor little dog’ Mary whispered to her and bent to touch her – but she didn’t even stir. It was too hot for the dog today.

Mary knew she had to walk to the markets and was dreading it. Hanging the washing out had been bad enough. The heat outside was oppressive and the sun, high in the sky, appeared to be a huge orange fire ball in the sky.

As she was pegging up the washing, the sun was heating the skin on her hands and face, adding to the sun damage she already had from her childhood. ‘If anyone goes to the beach today and lies in the sun, they are truly mad’ she said to herself and felt sick at the thought of it. She looked skywards and saw that the clouds were building.

White fluffy balls were now tinged with grey and blue and streaks ran through them as if an artist had taken his brush and swiped it across in anger. ‘Looks stormy to me’ she thought.

Charlie had risen off the couch and was looking for Mary. He had now taken his damp singlet off and was walking around with just a pair of shorts on. “That looks attractive” Mary said motioning to

Charlie’s bulky stomach, and laughed. “I was looking for you. I have good news”. “What’s that then?” she asked, surprised at seeing a smile creep across his face. “There’s a thunderstorm on the way and we’re about to have a record rainfall, by tonight” he chirped as he grabbed hold of Mary and twirled her around. “Let go of me you hairy oaf” she laughed and slipped out of his sweaty grip and plonked herself down at the table with a smile of relief on her tired face. “Oh I am so happy to hear that news. There will be a break from this heatwave at last. I’m not going to the markets today, we can make do. I’m walking there tomorrow when it’s cooled down or it’s raining! I’m celebrating”. And with a delighted yell of ‘Hooray “she got up to put the kettle on.