THE TIDES OF MEMORY

‘Your father’s not coming home tonight. The food is getting cold.’ Worry was scribbled all over my mother’s face. I switched off the TV and joined her at the dining table. I was starving. My stomach rumbled. I was tired of waiting. I mumbled a short prayer and blessed the food. I was raised right. We were a small family of three and it felt a little awkward sitting down for a meal without the head of the table around. All that notwithstanding I took my plate of food with much relish and started eating.

The door swung open unexpectedly and its impact so frightening that I let go off my plate. It fell to the floor breaking into pieces. Some of the food fell onto my laps and the rest made a mess on the floor. A mess I would clear the next day since things would grow from bad to worse in a blink. I looked up to reveal my father, red with rage. His eyes were bloodshot and his shirt a little ruffled. He reaked of alcohol. A whiff of premonition squatted over my chest like a fat toad, suffocating me. I was scared.

He headed straight towards the master bedroom, not uttering a single word to any of us. We watched his antics, in silence, wondering what had gotten into him. He came back almost immediately, pounced on my mum. She fell squarely to the ground almost hitting her head against the wall. My feet grew numb, pained by the fact that  whatever my eyes were registering was actually the man I had always looked up to as a hero and mentor breaking my heart and trust. I stayed rooted to that spot not knowing what to expect next.

 As his fists connected with my mother’s jaw, he grew even more livid. My heart ached. I couldn’t take it anymore. I tried to break his hold over her but he tossed me aside with his weaker left hand and sent me diving and landing hard against the table. It took me a couple of minutes and will to get back up and when I did, mum was on her feet too, knife in hand, hatred and resolve to murder in her eyes. This stopped him in his tracks momentarily and just like a man possessed he snapped once more and came at her this time bellowing. ‘’Where’s why money? Give me back my briefcase woman! I don’t know what led me into marrying a thief and liar.’’

He slapped her twice making her squirm a little. She stood there evidently confused. She dropped the knife and I heaved a small soft sigh. Despite what was ensuing and the hate brewing deep down my core, I still did not want him to get hurt. ‘’I didn’t take your money. I don’t need it.’’ She said softly amid sobs as dad continued hurling insults and mumbling inaudible words. Mum tried to get away from him to no avail. The doorbell rang twice and it felt like a supernatural arm had sprinkled a little saving grace my mother’s way. I rushed to get the door hoping that one of our neighbors had alerted the police.

I opened the door to reveal Annick. Annick lived a few paces from my place and we went to the same school. She had come to return a novel I had lent her weeks back. The house was in shambles when she entered. This was an inopportune time to have visitors around, especially Annick, since I had started taking considerable interest in her. My parents, on seeing her, tried pretending that nothing out of the ordinary was taking place. Failing terribly, dad gave her an enigmatic smile, trying to straighten his shirt and buckle his belt. He walked past her, staggering a little and headed to his study. Mum wiped her tears and sat down, her face away from her. Annick shook her head in disbelief.

I didn’t need to show her out. I was dying with embarrassment and facing her at that moment would add salt to injury. I knew what would solve one piece of the puzzle my problems had subjected me to. First I had to put this fight to an end then I would have to face Annick and the shame that came with that. As I walked to the garage thoughts rent the air. I didn’t consider going to school the next day. The thought that Annick would tell all of my classmates about how my family was messed up and the sneering glances they would throw my way made me almost cry. It scared me to my bones.

Earlier that morning dad left the house in a hurry. Something about this unclear board meeting he kept pining about the previous evening over dinner. He left with his briefcase in hand and stormed back in almost that instant having forgotten his car keys. He would then drive off and must have been depressed on reaching the meeting without the cash. Mum had offered to clean his car while he had breakfast. Dad would then head straight to his favorite drinking spree after work and we paid dearly for his irresponsible behavior.

I opened the garage and with a fit of luck, the briefcase lay intact on top of the tool box next to the worn out spare tires. I have never been elated to see anything in my entire life. I paced to the house. Everything was quiet. I walked to dad’s study and found him passed out on the chair, snoring. I quickly went to check on my mum. I didn’t know what she needed at the moment. She had locked herself in her room and had been weeping and cursing. Seeing her in that state made my heart bleed and it saddened me to know that there was nothing I could do to help. This was surely one of the hardest phases in her life but I reassured myself that she was strong a woman and that she in time would get over this ordeal.

Pacing back to dad’s study, I shook him awake and handed him his case staring down on him, eyes unprepossessing. I was hurt. And mad. And sad. He could see all these on my face, as I waited for an explanation. Or anything. ‘’ You left this in the garage, today morning.’’ I pouted. He looked up to me and it was evident he didn’t care. I banged his door behind me and crawled away. That man was dead to me. His words on chivalry and talks on how I should grow up a gentleman all masked the beast that we had lived with loving and honoring blindly.

This is one of the dark nights I try to banish from the deepest recesses of mind without success. These events are destined to haunt me, etched at the back of my mind like an epitaph on a tombstone. I wouldn’t sleep and when morning came, I was sore and hungry. I could overhear muffled chattering in the living room. I stood there for a brief moment thinking bitterly about how my father had robbed me of both my innocence and a normal family. I went to the kitchen and scrambled some eggs for a light breakfast to quell my hunger pangs. 

My parents were getting a divorce, after seventeen years of blissful and peaceful marriage. I didn’t think much of it. I was tired of being stressed out. I decided I would stay in my room and indulged myself in reading any intriguing novel lying around in my room and I did just that. Time flew by fast and I realized that five o’clock had reached when I heard loud incessant knocks on my door. Annick had swung by to check on me and I let out a warm smile on seeing her as she engulfed me in a hug. I was wrong to have had the wrong impression about her. She was a great person. She seemed to understand the intensity of what I was going though and at such a vulnerable phase of my life, when I really needed a friend, she had my back. She kept my secret.

It took me three months before I mastered the courage to face my dad. I was too hurt to want to hear anything he wanted to say when he finally decided to reach out. He had lost everything and I felt that this was what I had to do to make him realize the magnitude of all that he had given up. In time things returned to normalcy and I embraced the new life without that hero model and doing so helped me get right on track with my studies and social life. I still think less of men who strike their women and all perpetrators of domestic violence but sadly our world is flawed in more ways than I care to imagine and it would take more than mere wishful thinking to put an end to such a vice.