Mama and I live by ourselves in this little apartment in the heart of the city. It's pretty crowded here. Too many vehicles. It's always noisy. Even during the middle of the night one can hear loud honks and screeches of speeding drivers drifting. It's less than the day time, of course, but this city never sleeps. I'm 17 years old. But mama says I haven't grown since I was 7. Well I've certainly grown taller! I'm 5 feet 11 inches now. Hope to grow one more inch soon, so I can join the 6 footer club. Many of my classmates have joined that elite club. I like to paint. Mama says I can be a great painter if I carry on painting. Mama herself is quite a renowned painter. She is not famous among common people, but people from the painting world know her very well. Mama has been raising me as a single mother since dad left us. No one knows where he went. He was never seen again. Mama did not re-marry. But she had a lot of admirers and a few boyfriends however. The boyfriends came and went. A few were bored of her while the others, she got bored of. I never cared. I never had to. She never let her personal life interfere between us. Me and mama, we were tight. A lot of people used to come and go everyday, all day, back in the days. Nobody comes over anymore. It's just me and mama. It all happened after she fell ill. She had to be hospitalised. My aunt says I did not take it too well. I don't understand what her deal is. She always looks at me in a weird way as if there's something wrong with me. She's also overtly sympathetic with me. I think she pities me because father left us. She always keeps telling people that I did not take my mom's illness well. It's all behind me now aunty, she got better and came back home. Everything's fine now. Why can't you just let it go! Life is back to normal. However, it is not the way it used to be. Mama doesn't go out quite as often. She never goes out now. She's probably still a little weak mentally because of the trauma. Even though almost a year has passed, she's still recovering. Also, people rarely come by to our house these days. So many used to before. Young people, old people, middle aged people, famous people, annoying people. But as long as mama's with me, I feel fine. So even though life is not as jolly as before, we're doing pretty well. Only thing is that mama doesn't cook now. Aunty lives with us now and she cooks for me. Mama is not too fond of her. She thinks aunty knows where father is and she's not telling on her brother. I don't care. I don't miss dad. He was never a part of my life. In that way I have not much grudge against aunty. I miss mom's cooking, but aunty cooks pretty well too. She cooks too less I feel. I guess because Mama eats too little these days. Probably cause she does very little physical activity and has little appetite. Aunty looks at us weird when I feed mama or take her food to her bed. One day I caught her eating mama's food. I looked at her scornfully and she left the food on the table, got up and cooked for herself. Another day I saw her throwing away mama's food, it was her left over. She did not take any food at all. I didn't like the fact that she was so hasty about throwing away the food. Mama has become a little slow that's all. Once in a while I make some instant noodles for me and mama. I often cook beans, chicken and other things for mama. I'm beginning to cook well now. I think I can make a good chef as well, if I try. Mama eats too little. No wonder she's taking so long to recover. I keep telling mama that she needs to eat more or she'll never get well. She never seems to have any appetite. She's so indifferent to all material things these days. Be it food, clothes, money. But we're doing fine.
"The house feels extra cold. The neighborhood is about 59 degrees, while inside this apartment it's around 50 degrees, like all of a sudden a drop by 9 degrees. I don't understand. It could be because of the marble flooring and the boy never lets me make fire in the fire place. He cannot get over it. The boy won't leave this house. He still makes me cook for his mother. He scares me sometimes. Scares me a lot. But I don't get it. If he really thinks that his mother will get better, and he wants that to happen, why would he do such crazy shit in the winter? He's so pale. Day by day he's becoming slimmer. Not that there's something to worry about his weight, I see many teenagers lose weight as they grow in height. But he used to be a well fed young boy. Now he's pretty slim. His hair is growing uncaringly shaggy. His clothes are shabby. He's completely disconnected with reality. Many teenagers are day dreamers but my nephew is living in the inexistent - he lives in a world that'll never be... again. It's a ghost image and nothing more. Because he only sees her there, on her bed, where she used to lay down and speak to him. Exactly the way she used to lay resting her head on a high pillow, with a magazine in her hand, which published her interview. That narcissist hag! She didn't give him much time. He has been longing for her attention since my brother left them. I really don't know where that man went. I could never forgive him for this, forsaking a child like that. But my sister-in law was no ideal wife or mother. Even after my brother left her, she didn't feel like giving more attention to the child. I know she didn't care about my brother much either. She went around with all these men right in front of his eyes. My brother was simple man. He couldn't take it. A lesser man would've committed suicide. My nephew is a little less matured than his age. What's the medical term for it again? Anyways, I'm not going to use the word retard on my own nephew. And he's not. His IQ is a little low, that's all. What's so bad about it? Sure, he scores low in exams. He has taken two years in the same grade many times, but he's a terrific painter, like his beloved mama. I don't have a child of my own. I never married. Well I did, but my husband had set the example for my brother by leaving me. He was very handsome. Is it the problem with handsome men? Do they all run away? I don't like judging people. Even if they've done me wrong. I'm a good Christian. But somehow I could never help judging my sister-in law. She was always so self indulged. Always doing things for herself and thinking of herself. I have always admired her talent but whenever I tried to tell her something, she behaved as if she's doing me a great big favor by not running away leaving the poor child on my mercy. She knew the kind of person I was, and I could never abandon my nephew, and she always took advantage of that and made me do things that was not my duty. But I felt sorry for the boy. He needed attention more than the rest, while he got none. I loved him as if he was my own son. I wanted to tell him that. But I was insecure. His mother was a hateful woman. She wanted all the good for herself. She wanted her son to love her, but she'd do nothing for him. So I was basically the unpaid maid for my nephew. I took care of all his needs, while she got his love. Not that I thought it was unfair, but it bothered me a little, the way she was so uncaring about her son. Jamie(my nephew) had known only his mother since my brother left them when he was seven years old. Since then I, a guilty sister, had been helping in raising him. And since I had no life of my own, I didn't mind. She was always away with her exhibitions and more importantly sleeping around with different men. I understand that a young woman has needs. But I too was young once, not too long ago. My husband too left me desolate. I did not go around sleeping with so many people...and I didn't even have a kid! Jamie is such a sweet boy. He's so innocent. He's either busy chasing butterflies or drawing them, the metamorphosis. That boy maybe borderline deficit, but he sure has an eye for beauty and transformation in nature. The only thing she did for him is setting an example for her son as a painter and providing him with abundant encouragement. She's his role model hence. Even though he spent most of his hours with me, and shared his most innocent feelings and thoughts with me, it's his uncaring narcissistic mother he loves and admires. And now there she lies... that stupid woman. She was drunk driving with her boyfriend. Got admitted to the hospital mortally injured. Jamie did not take it well at all. He was always a little slow in adjusting to changes. He had a hard time adjusting to his mother's condition. Jamie, being like a child from the inside, always wanted to forget unwanted incidents. He wanted to move on as if they never happened. He had done this before, like when his father left or when he was sexually molested in school. And also when one of his mother's boyfriends hit him. He used to like him a lot. Because he was initially nice to him. He was a smooth criminal who knew how to get in women's pants. But he was an abusive drunk and one day he smacked Jamie when he tried to get him off his mother.(I wasn’t there, I heard Jamie's story and then her story and came to a conclusion about what may have transpired that day) She showed some integrity that day and threw that abusive bastard out of her life! Well atleast she considered her son more to her than a drunkard. But Jamie forgot that incident so quickly. It's as if it never happened. But this one is far more important that any other incident... for how long will he go on not knowing or pretending to not know... How long till he's forced to realize that his mother..."
Mama says, I must draw a lot. I must draw everything I want to and everything I can. I must capture every moment, every detail. Not a butterfly should miss a flap of the wings. Mama says it's not just what I draw, it's how I draw. I am on my way to becoming a great painter. I will show those bullies one day. They all make fun of me and pick on me. My teachers are not nice to me either. They're one way with me and another way with the other students. They're not strict on the bullies who bully me. Only mama and aunty love me. Only mama appreciates me. She is the only one that encourages me. Also the art teacher in school. Mrs.Ginny. She is a nice painter as well. But not as good as mama. Mama draws images I've never seen before. She draws from imagination. "Things that cannot be seen in reality." She is a follower Salvador Dali. Some day I want to be able to draw just like mama. I recreated her painting "Under the bottom of the Sea" once. She really appreciated me for it and showed it everyone. She said my strokes are perfect, better than hers. Mrs.Ginny was amazed when I called her over to see it. Mama and Mrs.Ginny are somewhat friends. She really cares for me, unlike the other teachers in school. Mrs.Ginny is also an admirer of my mother. Everybody looks up to mama. But my aunty doesn’t like mama too much. I love my aunty for she cooks for me and cares for me. But I think she is jealous of mama. She has even barred Mrs.Ginny from visiting us. Mrs. Ginny had come to see mama in the hospital but she never came to our house after mama was released. She never even asks about her when I see her at school. She always puts on a grave, somewhat sad face when she sees. She takes extra care of me. I think she is the one that has stopped the other kids from bullying me. Because I am bullied much less than before. Someone always stops them when they try to bully me. For example Cliff always used to bully along with Henny, Matt and the others. But whenever someone tries to bully me now it's mostly Cliff and Matt who stops them. I feel this is Mrs.Ginny's doing. But I would sure like it if she came to visit mama again. They had such nice conversations about artists and Salvador Dali and surrealism... I never quite understood them, but I like listening to them. I don't know what happened between them, mama never tells me and I never ask Mrs.Ginny, but I sure hope she comes to our home again soon.
"I think I know why the boy refuses to warm up the house in the freaking winter. He subconsciously does not want his mother to get well. He wants her attention. He wants her to be with him. (Well you know... that's what he thinks he is doing!) He has been longing for her company since childhood. I tried to fill up as much as I could, but children have a natural connection with their mother. You can take care of someone else's kid as if your own, but he'll love his mother still and want her to take your place. You're just a cheap replacement. Like a nanny, I'm like a nanny. But this isn't about me. This is about the mysterious way his mind works. I'm only trying to figure out, but I find no possible explanation other than this. I did not just come to this conclusion out of thin air! I've been hearing Jamie. I've always been hearing him, his thoughts, his complaints, his questions, his childish philosophies, his soliloquies. In his monologues, I've often heard a few lines repeatedly, "I want to sleep by your side mama", "I want to eat by your hands mama" or sometimes a simple heartaching child's cry - "I miss you mama". She was being missed like someone misses a dead person while she was alive and well. The kid barely got to spend an hour or two with her on weekends. She was always away. On exhibitions, travelling places with her boyfriends, on work etc. She was home at night when it was his bedtime. She left in the morning while he was having breakfast. But she was moving up in the world, she was making connections and getting her work exhibited big time. Jamie often told her about his feelings. But he never begged her or cried in front of her. She never gave him that much time. She never gave much indulgence to his childish demands. She kissed and told him how busy she was and how it was for his own good in the future. I could understand that. She was trying to accomplish herself for her son. But I never agreed with the promiscuousity. Jamie did not have a father to fulfill his demands as a kid. He never had a mother who cared for his emotional needs. Well she always encouraged his talent as a painter but a child needs more than just that. He had no one to cry to like other kids. Kids at his age(seven) make silly demands, they cry and make a lot of noise. Jamie was silent as a flower. His mind blossomed on the canvas or the drawing paper. He drew of his longings. He drew of his desolation. He drew enchanted forests of magical creatures. Creatures so colorful. They were together. Always together and looking after each other. Of the many sights that drew his attention was a mother bird feeding her young ones. He often drew hungry young birdlings on a nest crying for their mother, while hawks and eagles flew preying in the skies. The mouths of these little birds were deep red. As if bleeding. It expressed their desperation. Their insecurity. While I, a complete nobody in the painting world, critically analyzed the emotional contents of his drawings(I was amazed by the depth of his thoughts and visions and the details he provided), she, Jamie's mother, only commented and advised him on the technical parts e.g color combinations, lines, strokes etc. I don't know all that technical stuff about painting. But I never quite understood her deal. She was an artist after all, how can she be so indifferent to her own child's emotions. The pictures he drew were of no mentally retarded kid's! They were deeply touching and the colors were so vibrant, which created an amazing contrast with the content or the subject matter of the picture. I have been observing him painting for a long time. He is like a pro. He always knows exactly what to do, how to start and how to finish, when in front of a canvas. It's so natural, like he has been painting for 20 years! Most recently he has been painting on grim subjects like death. He seems to be possessed by the thought of death and loss, which reflects in his other paintings as well, the ones which are not particularly on death. I often hear him say, "It's okay mama, you don't have to hurry and get back to work. You can just stay with me", and "When you feel better again, you'll go out all the time and I'll miss having you around". This definitely expressed his worries that his mother actually recovering her health would lead to his loneliness again. The bedroom is always curtained and damp. A healthy person would fall sick living in that room for one week. He'd suffer from severe depression. I feel ghastly everytime I go in there. It's full of gloom... Anyways I need to take Jamie to Church today, I called over that nice Mrs. Ginny and Jamie's good old buddy Brett. Here he comes now."
...
'It's so freaking cold in this house, like freezing in here. It's not that cold outside. Insides are supposed to warmer than the outsides. This is Jamie's house. It's been a while I've visited him. I came here last a long time ago. Jamie always speaks of his mother. How he's been spending so much time with his mom after her accident. I think he's pretty happy inside that the accident occured. It kind of re-united him with his mother. She's forced to spend time within the house and he's always talking to her about everything. 'Everything' in Jamie's world is not much. He's my good friend. He's the only one who doesn't laugh at me or laugh along with the others when I mess up. And I mess up too often.'
Hey Brett, come on in. Mama's been asking about you. It's been a long time since you visited our home.
'I wanted to visit you sooner but my parents wouldn’t let me.'
But why?
'I don't know.'
'Jamie's been speaking of his mother a lot lately. Mama says this, mama said that. I guess he's been spending a lot of time with his mom lately. He never spoke of his mother much before. I know that his father left his mother when he was a kid. He didn't let me see his mother in her bedroom. He says she doesn't want any visitors. But she's always there, he says. She never goes out. She's just taking some time out. She needs some time to recover from the trauma of the accident, I feel. Jamie seems very protective when it comes to his mother's room. He made sure I didn't get a peek inside. I really wanted to see for myself. People have been saying weird things. But those people say weird things about me and Jamie as well. They call us weirdos too. And retards. We're not weird or retarded. We're special people. Jamie is a painter. And I am good with mechanics. I love unscrewing and reassembling things. But there's something about the other people in school that makes them so convincing. To us, to everyone. Even when they say things about us, they say it with so much conviction. Their latest claims make me think it over. And over again. Because this time, they're talking about Jamie's mother and his mental health. As if something's seriously wrong. But I rather believe in Jamie than a thousand of them. I've trusted them before. They've only bullied me in return. They've played practical jokes on me. They always do. However, I would like to get to see her just once.'
Brett, come let's go out. Mama says we should get some fresh air.
'I get fresh air all the time Jamie, I really wanted to see your mom. It's been a long time.'
Don’t worry bud, she'll meet you soon enough.
'I didn’t want to go out, so we stayed in. Jamie showed me his paintings. His house is full of freshly drawn canvases. Jamie's paintings are getting better and better. They're more suave than ever. But they're very dark. They speak to me in a language I don't understand. He repeatedly makes me sit in his room as goes to speak with his mom. I find it a little insulting that she doesn’t want to see me nor will Jamie allow me to see her, but Jamie's a good friend. I'm not going to lose a good friend like him over issues like this. Jamie maybe retarded but I'm not. I only drool a little. It's some occassion today for Jamie's family I think. At least that's what Jamie's aunt said when she called me over for joining them to Church. Why are they going to Church, it's not Sunday today. Oh here comes Mrs.Ginny, our art teacher.'
"Hi Brett, where's Jamie?"
'He's in his mother's room Mrs.Ginny.'
'They're both dressed in black. Not in the stylish way. It's more like mourning.'
"Jamie... Jamie...come on...Church, we've gotta go to church."
Why Mrs.Ginny?
"Well...don't you remember? It's your mama's memorial day today Jamie. It's been a full year since she..."
"Hush Mrs.Ginny! It’s nothing baby, this just something we need to do. You just be there for a while. Just hang around. Come on."
"Ms.Stafford! What's going on? Why have you...Jamie, Brett could you boys give us moment?"
Sure Mrs.Ginny.
"Does Jamie not know of his mother's death?"
"No. He believes she is ill. He sees her lying there."
"My God Ms.Stafford, that is horrible, the boy is living with a ghost! He needs treatment!"
"Mrs. Ginny please. He is my responsibility. I see nothing wrong with him. He does everything like a normal person, except that. He is an exceptional painter, do you want to see him in an institution suffering with the clinically insane people? Or do you want to see him happy and painting?"
"Cathy, they don’t just put people in institutions right away, there's counselling, there's medication...institutionalization is the absolute last stage...when nothing works..."
"And what if nothing works! Hmm? What if it so happens to drag to the last stage? I can't let that happen to my son! Yes Mrs.Ginny, whether I'm his mother or not, whether he will ever love me like he loved or loves his dead mother or not, I love him like my own child, he is my brother's only son and the only thing I have left for family. I cannot go down that slippery slope where I take my nephew for counselling and then he starts taking medications and things just go bad to worse and... ... Look Mrs.Ginny, he is fine. He will be better if you and that boy Brett could start visiting us again and pretending to discuss art related stuff with his mother again. Can you do that for him? Do you really love him?"
"You know that I love your boy. He is my favorite student. Not a lot of teachers are fond of him but I am and I have been protecting him as if he was my own kid as well. The boy needs some treatment else his delusion may remain with him for the rest of his life..."
"Mrs. Ginny, have you seen his performance in school this year?"
"Yes it has improved signifi..."
"B+ for the first time in his life and you want to take it away from him!"
"Of course not Cathy, but.."
"Please Mrs. Ginny. It'd destroy him. His mother is his whole world. He not imagines his mother alive, he begs her to not get well too soon, so that she is always there with him and he gets to spend more time with her. Have you felt how cold the house is?"
"Yes it is... Could it be her paranormal presence, because I've heard that that causes a sudden drop in the temperatures... Is Jamie... possessed?"
"No Mrs.Ginny. He is only possessed by a child's longing to be with his mother. I don't ask you to play exorcist, I just request that you play along. I'm certain it’s good for the boy. And let us hope he gets over it one day by himself...I really don't want to see my nephew ending up in an institution..."
Hey Brett, what do you think aunt Cathy and Mrs.Ginny are talking about? Have I done something? I know I have been doing well at school lately. But...
'Let me take a peak... Hmmm...Mrs.Ginny seems to be staring silently in to Ms.Stafford's eyes... Is Ms.Stafford gonna cry? She looks teary eyed... They're not talking anymore...ohh.. Mrs.Ginny is coming in...'
"Oh, there you are Jamie"
Huh, oh yes Mrs.Ginny.
"May I see your mother for a while, it's been quite a while since I spoke to her..."
Oh yes, sure Mrs.Ginny, she'll be so happy to speak to you again...I really like it when you two discuss art...I so wanted you to come visit her again...she has promised to meet Brett and the others only after speaking to you...
Characters and Their Dialogues/Monologues/Thoughts/Narrations:
Jamie - none
Aunt Cathy - "-"
Mrs. Ginny - "-"
