The Homecoming
The house sat in darkness. It was surrounded by a dense thicket of trees and
shrubs through which no light, however optimistic, could penetrate. Trembling
from the cold shiver that snaked its way down her spine, Annie wrapped her jersey
tighter around her. Belying its status as part of spring, the October night was
crisp and cold in the
Despite her determination not to let the house prevent her from what she knew
she had to do, Annie could not stop the hesitancy in her walk. She knew that
her entire body reflected her dread. From the top of her head to the tips of
her toes, she radiated fear. Fear of the ghosts she was about to awaken.
The door creaked slowly open, rusted on its hinges and a tired, yet oh so
familiar, face peered around the wooden frame. "Hello Ma." Annie
could hear the crack in her voice and she struggled for the inner strength that
was her core.
"Anitha?" Her
mother peered short-sightedly into the dark night, unable to believe that this
unexpected apparition was her own flesh and blood. "It's me Ma -
Annie." Annie pushed open the door and entered the house. The house where it all began. In many
ways, the house where it all ended.
"What you doing here?" Her mother's question could so easily be
viewed as hurtful. There was no joy in a daughter come home. Not in this house.
"I need to know, Ma. I need to know it all." Ignoring her mother's
sharp gasp, Annie swept past her and into the family room - a misnomer if ever
there was one. The only family activities that the room had ever seen were
activities that were best forgotten. Yet that was why she was here after all. To remember. To understand. Maybe, in time, if possible, to forgive.
~~~~~~~
It all started a week ago. Or rather it restarted a week ago.
Slumped against the bathtub in the apartment that she shared with Samuel, her
partner for the past two years, Annie held her life sentence in shaking hands.
Two blue lines. Positive. Congratulations! You are
pregnant. Please see your doctor as soon as possible to confirm the results of
this pregnancy test.
The blue lines signified the start of a new life. It also signified the end of
hers.
In her doctor's office later that week, she listened in awe to the sound of the
foetal heartbeat. Strong. Pounding.
Beating a tattoo of life. Echoing
the pounding behind her eyes that threatened to consume her. Tears
rolled slowly down her pale cheeks.
Dr Lucien smiled at her. He had been in this business for over 20 years and
never tired of the look of wonder on his patients faces when they first heard
the sound of the baby's heartbeat. "You're 4 weeks along. Still early
days, but everything seems fine. You've got a strong one here!"
"If.if I wanted to get rid of it.?"
She left the end of the sentence hanging. Hating herself.
Needing to know.
Recoiling at the look of shock on the doctor's face, Annie averted her eyes,
unable to hold his gaze.
"That's a big decision."
"I know." Quietly. Resolutely.
The doctor sighed. "You can terminate during the first trimester. Up until
12 weeks."
She nodded, still unable to look at him. "Annie?" he queried gently.
"This is not something to decide hastily. Please go home and think about
it. Talk to people. Talk to the father. If you decide to abort, we'll help you
with the arrangements. In the meantime, please take care of this baby. Take
care of yourself."
Driving back to the apartment, tears coursing down her cheeks, vision blurred,
she narrowly missed driving into another car. Hearing the angry hooter blaring across the peaceful afternoon, she pulled
over to the side of the road and sobbed uncontrollably. "Oh God, please
help me now! Please!" She started to laugh when she realised what she had
just said. God! God? God was not part of her lexicon.
The idea of a beneficial supreme being, all powerful and watching over her was
an idea she had rejected at the age of 12. God was Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy
and the Easter Bunny all rolled into one for Annie.
She remembered being a little girl. Little Anitha. She would crawl under her blankets at night,
crying silently into her pillow and trying to hold back the sobs that were
threatening to spill over into the night. She would try desperately to vent her
despair without calling his attention to her. Little Anitha
would talk to God. She believed in Him. He would help her. He would stop the
hurt and make her happy. She prayed with a fervour that would have put the best
Christian, Hindu, Jew or Muslim to shame. For years she pictured God in her
mind. He was a kind old man. She knew that despite never getting the chance to
see his face. He always had his back to her and he never turned around to look
at her, however much she tried to coax him with her words. She was 12 when she
realised that God did not walk with her. She was alone.
No, that wasn't right. She hadn't always been alone. For the first time in
years she thought of Jeev. Jeevan. Her
protector. Her brother. Her
world once upon a time. "No," she whispered into the air.
"I can't think about this. Not now." Starting the car up again, Annie
drove to her flat. Drove to Samuel. Sam,
her lover, her world. But not her husband.
He would want to marry her of course. She knew he had wanted to for a while
now, but she had fiercely and silently resisted. Any mention of the topic and
she would turn away. Poor Sam. It was over now.
Sam saw Annie's car pull into the driveway. He watched her as she climbed
slowly out of the car. She walked with the weight of the world on her
shoulders. He fingered the ring that he kept in his pocket and knew that this
was not the best time but he had to try. He knew that she was against marriage.
He suspected that she loved him and had learned to live with the unspoken
knowledge. He lived his life based on that tiny scrap of hope. One day she
would voice her feelings and that would be the day she would agree to be his
wife. But he couldn't wait any longer. He had to try.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She ran. Of course. He knew she would. He just didn't
believe it. She ran from Sam, from her world, from her life as it was and as it
would never be again. She ran home. Back to the beginning. Back to the end.
Back..
"Anitha, I can't let you do this! I won't let
you destroy us again." Her mother was adamant as she barred the way to her
bedroom. Small and strong, she had somehow lost that remote look of coldness
that Annie remembered from her childhood. She looked tired and old now. A part
of Annie stirred with compassion and was quickly closed off. "Ma, I am
going into that room whether it means stepping over you or not so please move
out of my way." Pushing her mother aside, she opened the bedroom door.
Another shut door in the house of her childhood.
He lay on the bed under thick covers. The room was warm and cosy with the
cheerful blaze of the fire dancing across the ceiling. It's been painted she
thought in amazement. Who would have done that? She looked at him. The animal.
The bastard. Her father. The person she hated most in the world. Really, the
only person she had ever hated. The intensity of her emotions raged through her
and she saw him as he had been on the day she had left.
He had been tall and strong. She had always felt so little and lost in his
presence. She had received a scholarship from the South African Institute of
Race Relations to study at the University of the
He would take the whole family on trips to the farmer's market in
Pietermaritzburg. Kids, fruit and vegetables would be loaded onto the back of
his small van as they left before the sun was up to make the hour long trip.
They would set up his little stall and sell fresh fruit to the larnies, as he referred to white people. She remembered
watching Jeev's smile fading as the day progressed.
He would listen in silent anger to the jokes that the white people would make
at their father's expense after buying the best bananas and apples. Jeevan's back would get stiffer and he would try to stand
taller and let the "Uppity Coolie" remarks pass over him. One day it
had been too much and he lobbed a tomato at a retreating back. The drive back
had been filled with terror. Annie had sat holding her skinny 12 year old legs
and shivering in anticipation of the expected retribution.
They arrived back at the farm at seven that night. It was a wonderful summer
night and the air was filled with the fragrance of the jasmine bushes her
mother had planted everywhere trying to disguise the smell of the chickens. A
balmy breeze blew lazily through the night, stirring the hair on her head and
she lifted her sweaty face to catch the cooling breeze. Such a perfect night.
The shouting soon started and it was of a size and sound that she had never
heard before. When the whipping started she couldn't bear it any longer and she
ran to the barn. The door was open and she crept in silently. Her father was
beating Jeev with his belt. Relentlessly,
remorselessly, over and over again. Jeev's body was
strong and his muscles gleamed where his shirt had been torn off his body. Welts
were visible and blood was starting to seep through. "You will get those
ideas out of your head this instant. I will have no more of this freedom
nonsense, do you hear me?" Each word was punctuated by the whining of the
belt as it cut through the air. Jeev just lay there.
She could see the tears roll down his face and Anitha
could not stand it any longer. She flew at her father and grabbed his hand,
sobbing wildly, begging him to stop. For a second he did. Shocked he looked at
his little daughter, hanging onto his arm, snotty tears coursing down her face
and then he tossed her aside. "Uma, take this
girl away." Only then did Anitha see her mother
standing in the shadows with her hands against her mouth. Her mother rushed
forward and picked her up, dragging her out by her arms. That was the last time
she had seen Jeevan until the day when they had
brought his body in its wooden coffin for the mourners to pay their last
respects.
The day she had turned eighteen had coincided with the day she had left to go
to university on her scholarship. Her father had stood at the door refusing to
look at her. "You worthless deserter! Having you and your brother ruined
my life! You will never be anything but a farmer's daughter. Go then and don't
come back!" She had gone happily and had never returned. Until now. Twelve
years later and she had returned. They had all known that one day she would
have to come home.
"Anitha?" Her father's voice croaked with
old age. He peered short sightedly at her as he
struggled to sit up. Her mother rushed over to help him and Annie gasped as she
got her first real sight of the man who had killed her brother. His skin was
flaccid and hung limply from his bones. He was thin. Painfully so. His high
cheekbones cut through the pale skin of his face and his skeletal fingers
clasped her mother's softer ones as he leaned on her for support. He coughed
and his entire frame was racked by the spasms that followed. He was old! How
old was he now? She searched her memory frantically and the information seemed
so important now. He was 60. Too young to look this old and yet he did. Could
twelve years be so cruel?
He saw her look of shock and he smiled wryly. The familiar smile that she
remembered was somehow different. The edge of brutality was gone. In its place
she saw sorrow and shame. Her knees grew weak and she collapsed onto the
bedside chair. He reached for her hands and she was too weak to resist as he
clasped them within his papery old ones. "I knew you would come. I only
hoped it would not be too late." At her unspoken query, he continued in a
breathlessly husky voice. "You need to know the truth and we've hidden it
for so long. I know you hate me. I don't blame you. I've hated myself for years
and years now."
Another coughing spasm. "I didn't beat him to death, Anitha.
I didn't!" he repeated the words with the vehemence that she no longer
expected as he saw the imperceptible shake of her head. "I know I was a
bad father. I treated you kids." he looked at his wife before continuing.
"I treated all of you so badly. I was cruel and wanted to cause pain. I
was drinking all the time and my demons could not be drowned. I tried to forget
my pain. I was such a disappointment to myself. My life was not turning out the
way I had always dreamt that it would. I wanted so much and it seemed like I
got so little instead. I blamed you children. I said it over and over again to
myself, to your mother and eventually I said it to you." His voice broke
and a sob rose up in his throat, and escaped into the quiet evening. It was a
sound that was at odds with the quiet and cosy domesticity of the room.
"That evening.I had heard what those goras had said and I was too cowardly to do anything.
I saw Jeevan's actions as a slight against me. I was
incapable of defending myself and so he had to do it. My son! I should have
been the one to defend myself, to defend all of you, not him. It felt like he
threw that damned tomato at me. He had spat on my honour with his action and I
had to punish him."
"I never meant to hurt him so much, but once I started I couldn't stop.
When you ran at me and tried to stop me, I realised what I was doing and I was
so disgusted with myself. Do you know what I did?" He didn't stop for an
answer. "I threw my belt at him and I called him every filthy name I could
think of and then I left him. I left him there crying in the mud and straw and
I went to get drunk." He wiped a feeble hand across his face as the
memories of that night came crashing back. "When I returned, your mother was
sitting with you and trying to calm you down. She was singing you some song and
you were still crying into your blanket. I went to the barn and saw Jeevan. He had hanged himself! He had hanged himself with
my belt! Oh God, my son, my only son and I had killed him." Her father
tears filled the room. Silence until he continued. "It was my fault but
not the way that you thought. I didn't beat him to death. I killed his spirit.
I destroyed his heart and he couldn't live anymore. And I forbade anyone to
talk to you about it. I cut him down and called the police. There was an
inquest. They asked questions...so many questions. Death by suicide and I
cremated him that same day we got the body back. You were so quiet then. You
hardly spoke to anyone!" His voice ended on a rising note of hysteria.
Annie felt her heart dissolve into a million little pieces of hurt. She could
see Jeevan's face in the firelight and she sensed his
presence. "You hurt us so much." she whispered. "I know. I pray
for forgiveness every day. I will never be able to change the past and I don't
blame you for not wanting a future with me at all. Annie, I am so sorry. Half
the time I was out of my mind with all the alcohol I used to drink. I killed my
family and I pay for that every day, with every breath that I take. I have
cancer Anitha." It was a matter of fact
statement, said with no ulterior motive but to share information. "In some
ways, the pain cleanses me and I welcome it. I will die soon and I welcome that
too. The only thing I am happy for is that you have made a success of your
life. The only thing I hope for now is that you are happy."
Later, she left the emotions of the room behind and she walked into the night.
She climbed the hill that they would run up as kids and she saw the way it used
to be. Jeev, was running up the hill, holding her
hand and staying by her side so that she wouldn't fall. When they reached the
top he took her in his arms and swung her around, high up into the air.
"Fly, my girl. Fly as high as you can. I'll never let you fall."
Sitting there, the night wrapped around her and the house sleeping behind her,
she placed a hand on her belly and imagined the heartbeat of her child. Her
fears were real but she knew that she would not destroy this life and it would
not destroy her. She was not her father. She took out her cellphone
and called Sam. She couldn't marry him. Not yet. But she loved him and that was
enough.
Dhesh
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|
Name |
Comment |
Date |
|
Erna |
A moving slice of life. Thanks for
submitting this – and I hope we’ll see some more! |
2007-05-27 |
|
Lynette |
great ending... positively
inspiring, thank you |
2007-08-22 |