The Vase

Then there's Mama. She was a cruel woman. Everyone got a slice of her tongue. She spoke few words but when she spoke, the words were fire and ice. Papa, the strongest man I have ever seen was weak and sad when he was with her. He couldn't stop the fire from her tongue. When she was finished, he would come out of her room with his head bowed and his knees shaking. I asked why he let her do that to him. All he could do was shake his head and say "I love her. She wasn't always that way." He'd pull out the wedding picture and cradle it in his arms as though it were a holy object that would break. "See how beautiful she was, Rona?. Her blonde hair with the violets in them. The soft white dress she wore and her beautiful smile. I always told her it could light up the room. " I looked at the picture as I had a thousand times before. This was a different Mama: a young woman who had the love of her life standing next to her. "Papa, you look so handsome. I haven't seen your smile in a long time. " I put my hand on his arm.

"Rona, my smile was all goofy teeth and tongue tied. I was so happy to marry your mama I couldn't talk. I almost forgot how to say I do when the preacher asked me. Maureen's smile lit up the room and her laughter carried my nerves away. She squeezed my hand and said, 'I do too, George!"

Later, we heard glass breaking as Mama started throwing whatever she could find. The door to her room was always closed but we always knew what she was destroying. Last time, it was a vase that we gave her for her birthday. She had actually smiled when she got it and the first thing she did was fill it with yellow roses from Papas rose garden. The fragrance filled the house. We were smiling for a week. After that, the fragrance faded, and the roses withered away. So did Mama's mood. I asked her if she wanted me to go out and pick more roses for her. She gave me that look, the one filled with knives and darkness. She grabbed the roses out of the vase and started to tear them up. When she was finished, the dead rose petals were strewn all over the house like a torn feather mattress. The smell of decay was pervasive. The vase lay on its side but was somehow, not broken. I picked it up and took it to my room. When Papa came home, he saw the mess. I was sitting on the stairs opposite Mama's closed door, listening for any sound coming from within. There was only silence. When Papa opened her door, the darkness fell out of the room like a load of dirt. The anger and loneliness lingered in the air and smelled like filth.

"Mo, what can I do for you, honey?"

"Stop calling me Mo."

"Sorry Maureen. It's just..Mo is the pet name that you wanted me to call you. I...I love it so."

"Get out George." He closed her door gently as he left the room, He saw me sitting on the stairs. "It's ok, Rona, Mama needs some time."

"I know, Papa."

He hugged me. ."Are you hungry?"

"Yes, Papa, I didn't have lunch."

Papa sighed. "You must be starving. How 'bout we go and get a hamburger and vanilla shake?"

"Sounds good Papa!" I took his hand. "But what about Mama? She must be hungry too!"

"We'll bring back a burger for her."

PART 2-

My brother Garret hasn't been seen for a year. Mama kicked him out when he was sixteen. Papa tried to keep him home, but Gar had had enough. Mama told him he was worthless since he wasn't helping to earn a living. Garret told her he would get a job after school. She told him, why go to school when all you can get are c+? You should be a man and put food on the table.

After that, he ran to his room and started packing. All he had was his baseball mitt, a few t shirts and his overalls. He put on his sneakers, but he had outgrown them. I ran to Papa's closet and grabbed a pair of Papa's shoes. He tried them on but they were too big. "It's ok, Rona. They'll fit if I wear 2 pairs of socks. " He grabbed his bag and ran down the stairs. "Gar!! Do you have to go? Stay. She'll get better, she always does! what about your math test tomorrow? Gar!"

"Bye Rona!" He yelled as he ran out the door. He was staying in a boarding house in the next town. Papa sent him money and clothes sometimes. Once, he sent a pair of new boots. When he didn't hear from Garret for a few weeks, he went to Ms. Emily's boarding house. Ms. Em said Gar left after Mama called him. He told Ms. Em that Mama was angrier than he ever heard so he ran away. Papa saw the boots. They were still in the box. When he brought them home, he put them in the back of his closet., hoping that Gar would come home. The boots, like the wedding picture were just a memento of how Papa wanted things to be: full of false hope and empty happiness. Mama found them. She left them in pieces on Papa's bed, along with the knife she used to cut them with.

They hadn't spoken for a month afterwards. Papa went to work and lived his usual routine, I went to school every day and sat by myself at lunchtime, away from the other children. I had taken the wedding picture out of Papa's room when he wasn't looking. When I took out my sandwich, I removed the picture from my book bag. She was a stranger, this lady with a smile and violets in her hair. I asked Papa once, why she is the way she is now, what had changed? He always told me he didn't know but deep down, under all that sadness, he kept the truth buried.

Mama, meantime, stayed in her darkened room, only coming out for food. Later, Papa found that she used pails for her toilet, then empty bottles, then the rug.

Mama finally came out of her room, took a long hot shower and washed her clothes. It took us two weeks to clean her room. We opened her windows, dusted her furniture with lemon Pledge, and washed her sheets with bleach. When we finished, the room was sunny and fresh smelling. The spots in the carpet never went away and are a constant reminder of what Mama had done. I put a small round table over one of the spots and moved her rocking chair over another one. I was pleased, the little table and rocker were by the window and gave a nice sunny place for Mama to sit. I went out and picked some roses for her vase and placed it on the little table.

"Can I show her, Papa?" He nodded. "Mama, come see what we did." She let me take her by the hand and show her the peaceful little nook we'd made for her. She sat in her rocker and smelled the roses. "Rona, come sit with me, honey." I sat down beside her and placed my head in her lap. It was a good day. Papa smiled and sat on her bed. We sat, with peace and quiet as company. She motioned over to Papa. As he reached down, they kissed, as if for the first time.