She looked in the mirror a second time to check the corners of her mouth for the rusty flakes that had been appearing since last spring, shortly after the pain had begun.
Sure that her face didn’t betray her she ducked down like she had done a thousand times before to get a quick last sip out of the cup she kept under the sink. Her cinnamon cup.
Even though she felt confident to give the quick kiss to her dad and get out the door to the bus, the morning greeting was always the scariest for Imogene. Dad was sharp in the morning, well rested and very appraising, or at least he seemed to be. Not like at the end of the day when he was sleepy after working all day. Also, the pain had been getting worse and although to her she looked like every other kid in her grade, she did notice the bags under her eyes getting darker and also, there was the issue of well, not eating. That was truly starting to show no matter how she dressed. Still day-by-day her dad would give her the space she needed. But this morning was different. He was in his dark place again. All she had to do was walk into the kitchen to see that.
She walked up slowly behind him and put a small, almost tiny for a girl her age, hand on his shoulder but he didn’t feel it. Then she was gone, out the door and down the gravel path to the school bus. Cold winter wind bit at her small frame and she held herself against it, literally not having the strength for this cold but, knew that Mrs. Easton was close, the bus driver, a middle organic farmer who gave more to the community that anyone she had ever met, but Mrs. Easton was from Jamaica and hated the long winter, so the bus was kept nice and toasty and this was Imogene’s favorite time of day.
Once on the warm bus tucked in right behind Mrs. Easton, there was even a special cushion on that seat for her, she could rest. Mrs. E. had a thing for Imogene. She had no kids but was so full of maternal love and when Im’s mother passed, well, it just fell together.
“ Hi baby Imp child!!! It’s too cold out my little imp!! Jump in where it's warm sweet pea, angel!!!” Now, Mrs. E always gave a look of worry, but Imp knew she would never corner her. She was safe. She loved the smell in that bus; it’s where she got the idea for her cinnamon cup. Mrs. E smelled like a mix of nutty cinnamon, cocoa butter, and vanilla. Imp’s cup was just straight cinnamon and a little water, but Mrs. E had a magic potion of comfort in her very being that never failed to delight.
When the pain began last spring, it had been a good two years since mama had gone. Things were finally going well and Dad was pulling out of the dark places faster and faster. Things were getting normal. That is what she thought she wanted, for a while at least. She couldn’t tell him and she didn’t feel like she should. She didn’t think daddy was the most responsible adult she knew and he didn’t get it about kids and how much they know. He hadn’t met the Deer family and he never listened to mama, even when she was so right at the end. He kept doing the dumb things the Doctors said. So she kept it to herself when the pain started, and by then the lumps had been there for a year but she didn’t think anything of them.
She came up with the cinnamon cup when her breath started to smell bad. Nights were hard and the pain would contract. She would wake up to blood on her pillow a lot and she always had it in the corners of her mouth. All of these things were concealable though and Dad never seemed to discover them. He had started to take long walks and she was hoping it would help his darkness.
Even before mama went Dad had a tendency to be sad. He would just go into this very dark mood for a couple weeks then he would sort of snap out of it and coast for a while but he always seemed a bit troubled. She worried about him sometimes but he was a strong man and very disciplined. Dad was never late, he always told the truth and he was utterly dependable, even when he was in a dark place. He was just not that cheerful, that’s all. He was always kind, just very quiet.
While her mother was dying Imogene was slightly ignored for a short period of time. There was a lot of arguing amongst the adults. Her entire family was there, aunts and uncles, grandparents and dad. They were all scared and no one knew what to do and they all cried and wailed. Imogene found it all very dramatic and she often was able to escape for long periods of time out into the forest behind their home. Mom had been the first to show her the deer family when she was still well. Mom had showed Imogene many secrets in the forest, but the deer family was the most important, because they were a special family, a very old family that had been living there for generations.
Mom knew lots of things that were mysterious and magical but no one ever questioned her, you could feel that she was telling the truth. That was one of the things that mom and dad had in common. They both were so honest.
After her mother died though, all the family left with tears and hugs, no less dramatic thought Imp, but at least they were leaving now and she could try and show dad about the deer family in her own way. She knew that she needed to be a little dishonest with her father in order to help him see the real truth. Maybe she could help him see with better eyes. Her mother passed on to Imogene the gift of foresight and she knew what needed to happen. No hospital, no dramatic family, none of that this time. It got in the way of dad’s message.
So she kept drinking the spicy cinnamon cup and going back to the forest to wait for guidance from the deer family.
After school dad was less distant and Imp asked if he was ok, and he said that he was and made dinner. Imp pretended to be in a bath and asked to have her dinner later, they never ate together, it was just something she insisted on and he gave in being a single parent and intent on picking more bountiful battles with his child.
That night when he told her about the deer family and kissed her goodnight, she cried tears of joy that she knew he would be ok. She knew that he would be able to hear the message. That she wouldn’t have to fight anymore or hide. She could let go. As she wept she heard a soft whisper and turned to see her mother coming into her room, the soft hallway light behind her.
Down onto the bed her mother sat taking Imagines face in her warm soft hands. She looked radiant, round cheeks and rose red lips. Imogene had never seen her look this way before. So, ..... Young. Together they went outside and it was not cold but warm as a mid summer night, and the smell of Mrs. E was everywhere! The comfort of nature and the smells of Cocoa, vanilla, and of course cinnamon were all around. Before her the forest unfolded like a huge empire and thousands of deer were there to welcome home the princess. Together they walked into the glory hand and hand.
and so it goes; our precious, fragile, impermanent lives so impossibly beautiful, so achingly human, thrown together in ways that demand acceptance and surrender to outcomes we can never fully fathom.
Posted by: willheim | Mar 14, 2012 at 03:43 PM