Chapter Twelve
The Blues
Links: Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 Ch10 Ch11
Mum came out of the rectory’s wooden gate and walked over to my newly purchased (very old) blue Toyota Corolla parked at the kerb. Little Horatio had chuckled with delight when I had honked the horn to let Mum know I was there. She leaned in through the back window, (I had thoughtfully and effortfully wound it down with its old-fashioned window handle) and gave Horatio a big kiss on the cheek and an awkward sideways cuddle. He was strapped into his baby seat in the back, and I knew he would be too excited to fall back to sleep after our little journey to the Rev’s house.
“I think I’ve remembered everything Mum.” I said, giving her a knowing smile as I handed her the bulging backpack. She had the grace to look a little embarrassed and I laughed.
“Thanks ‘Chelle! I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll be home tomorrow after work. It’s definitely my turn to cook.”
“Well if you bring the Rev with you, I don’t want to hear any hanky-panky going on! Our walls are thin!” I laughed again. She was so easy to tease.
“Michelle!” she exclaimed, turning bright red this time.
I was really pleased that she and the Rev had finally got together properly. Mum had been single for years after we had lost Dad and has never seemed interested in anyone before (that I know of). I chuckled to myself when I thought of the surprise packet of condoms I had put into her toiletries bag. Hahaha.
When I say we lost Dad, I don’t mean we lost him as in lost. We are not that careless. He had passed away suddenly from a heart attack at a much too young age. I was only eight at the time and I still miss him every day. I often want to yell at joggers to be careful and get their hearts checked out. It was deceiving that Dad seemed so fit and active, then he was dead on a jogging path with no one around to call an ambulance. I think little Horatio looks a lot like him. I see it in his smile and hear it in his laugh. I’ll be advising him to look after his health, get check-ups often and eat as many vegetables as possible. I don’t suppose he’ll listen to me after he becomes a teenager. After all, I didn’t listen to my mum. I’ll try my best in the interim though.
After a quick hug, I climbed back into the driver’s seat and started back toward home. My little blue car chugged up the hill valiantly and I hoped it was going to last until the next rego period. I bought it as a present for myself on Horatio’s birthday. He had turned one last month and was walking already and saying a few words, Like “Ta, loll loll.” I suppose that could be considered a sentence, but I can’t brag about it as the other mothers would be horrified to hear that he already knows what lollies are. Anyway, I don’t really care what they think, as long as I know that he is getting the best nutrition.
I don’t tell them about all the problems we have had with Wayne, my ex (although he’s not Horatio’s father). They don’t need to know all our business. It’s hard to know what to say when they ask questions, but I can think on my feet most of the time. I usually deflect them by asking about them and their babies. That is generally what they are interested in: themselves. The only exception is my best friend, Sarika. She is named after the Indian goddess of wealth success and prosperity. She has the patience of a saint, and the most beautiful long black hair. She’s a good listener and I tell her everything. She loves Horatio to bits, and I always feel safe leaving him with her to pop to the shops for groceries etc. She sings Indian lullabies to him and he’s asleep in no time.
It was wonderful to have Sarika to talk to when all the problems happened with Wayne. Mum and the Rev were great too, even though they are both directly affected by Wayne’s dangerous assholeness. Sarika helped Mum and I to decide to get an AVO taken out on Wayne, as her father is Sergeant Sahota at the local police station. She has been a pillar of support and a mine of information for us.
Now the poor Rev has been almost killed at his favourite lookout spot. Hero could also have easily died. The thought of it makes me very stressed. I do my breathing exercises to settle down, especially now that I am responsible to be calm and present for little Horatio. That does leave me calmer but with the blues. I can’t understand why this has all happened to us. I feel like I’m being punished sometimes for the mistakes I’ve made in my life. The Rev says that everyone makes mistakes, and that is how we learn. He says that the only way to not make any mistakes is to do nothing at all, ever. He reminds me that I’m a normal human being. I can’t tell you how helpful that is. All that, and he saved my life when Wayne attacked me in the street! I love him to bits and I’m so glad that Mum seems to too! She had better treat him well! (andvice versa), I love her too.