by Bronwyn Chambers

I could make out Jack,
my little boy shadow — he played
quietly with the cars in the corner
of my blue myopic gaze.
Depression clung to me, distorting
my vision. I suddenly ached for
something real and called Jack
over. Softly Jack — Jaco snuggling
into me, warm, wanting. A selfish
recollection of my senses.

In retrospect I see my moth-
er. The concentric circles of detritus
ranging the limits of the small apart-
ment moved out cautiously from her as
she came and went like the tide. Her
presence, like an echo, reminded me over
and over again of her painful absence.

How slowly everything

moved.

{[Slam. ]

H’LO — HELLO I’M
HOME — WHERE’S JACK?

MOM, MOM - I’M HOME.

This was Annie — crocodile smile and gunpowder.
She stood, feet planted, hands on hips, not expecting, but
hoping things were different. I knew, she was bright — effu-
sive. Clear, clear, clear, she saw right through me. I was dis-
armed, frozen like a deer, embarrassed by my own inade-
quacies.

I didn’t know. Again my thoughts circled round me.
Me, my, mine. Relentless self-reflection — idiot dance.

[Annie’s thin, wire body came
bounding into the room. She planted her-

self expectantly in front of the couch

where Jack and Christina were laying. ]

JACO, JACO POTATO — I’M HOME.

She ignored me in a seven year old petulant disap-
pointment; she began, like the birth of a planet, to move
about the room. I saw myself in the dim half-light, lying
crooked on the couch, half-dressed, dark eyes — cigarette
butts. Flounder.

Occupy me, I prayed — available. For occupied, I
was not. Annie shook me, and I rose up off the couch in
response.

[Cristina eased herself up from the
couch stiffly - accounting for all the
atrophy depression brings. She moved for-
ward, stumbling blindly over her mess,
and smashed her chin down onto the cor-
ner of the coffee table, biting her lip
hard. ]

MOM YOU FELL —- MOM, MOM! ARE YOU
OKAY? EWW, YOU’RE BLEEDING.

[For a moment, she just lay there.
She watched detached, as if from above,
as Annie jumped frantically around - arms
moving in and out like a boxer, and Jack
backed himself into the corner. ]

I saw my body laying there, my awareness exor-
cised like a demon by the physical pain, thrashed separate
from my otherwise useful body. My eyes stared blankly
back. Sanguine complacency. Blood gushed out from the
gash on my lip. My gaze widened to include my children.

I was tasting the warm, salty effluent running down
my chin.

EW MOM, EWW, I TOUCHED IT.

Annie’s tiny fingers splayed out in front of my face,
shiny with blood. Not right. :

{Christina jumped up, and grabbed
Annie’s hand. Blotting her gash with the
sleeve of her free arm, she strode pur-
posefully towards the back door. Jack
trailed close behind, practically run-
ning.

Christina grabbed things as_ she

went through the kitchen and down the

back steps: bits of wood, string, an old
t-shirt. She caught a glimpse of herself
- manic determination, bleeding.
Survivable. ]

As we ran out the back door, I feared losing the
conviction whose momentum drove me. Impetus/ impo-
tence. Certainty bubbled up in me from somewhere only
vaguely familiar.

WHAT ARE YA DOING, MOM? WHAT’S THAT
STUFF FOR?

[Jack started to mimic his mother,
he gathered bits of paper, an old umbrel-
la, toys, ‘parts. of .cardboard:. packing
boxes. ]

. Annie’s words were clear and loud in my head as
was Jack’s silence. I hoped. my actions would adequately
respond, as I had fallen mute. Inarticulate as a mother, I
needed to take care of something. Shift the gravitational pull
of my interior — exterior.

[Annie hopped up on top of an old
crate and started to provide a running
commentary. Jack and Christina bound
together the mass of stuff, using some
old rope to tie, and to give it form. She
lashed it all to a post and anchored it
into a hole. Across the way, and next
door neighbors gathered, either sensing
the imminent spectacle or fearing the
insanity of the bleeding, mad stranger in

their midst. No matter which, they just
stood in hushed attendance - staring at
Christina, who remained intently

focused. Once the figure was upright, she
turned thoughtfully towards the shed. ]

I felt incomplete. The gathering of all this memory
into one instant, demands ritual — is ritual. I considered the
possibilities and stormed off towards the shed, forcing
myself through the gap of the cool metallic doors and into
the darkness. I felt about, my fingers searched wildly
through the mass of powdery webs. Dust fell on me, expos-
ing my sweaty effort. Ah — triumphant, my hand found pur-
chase on the prize container. Grabbing it, I re-entered the
backyard scene.

[Christina emerged triumphantly,
clutching. the trqhnter- -flusea “in hand:
Annie still going strong - she admonished
the nervous inquiries of the neighbors in
fierce defense of her mother’s unknown
intent - her unknown mother.

Christina emptied the entire tin
over the effigy. Jack walked up to his

mom - tiny man steps. He stood, legs
wide, like a cowboy, his hands clenched
gleefully up to his mouth. He intended to
draw closer to the moment. Annie’s pros-
elytizing reached a fervent high.
Christina pulled a matchbook out of her
pocket. A bit of silence hovered as she
struck the match and threw it at “the
effigy. Jack moved back covering his ears
and squealing; he ran and fell at his
sister’s feet. Giggling to himself, he
looked up at his mother from this new
perspective. Annie fell uncharacteristi-
cally quiet.]

As I fell to the ground at my sister's feet, exhausted from
the delight of anticipation, I observed the mutation of the form from
thought, into action, into an active prayer. I saw my mother as she
circled the fire repetitively, both beautiful and wretched — the flicker
of flame. She fed it with her notion, as Annie watched. A transaction
of their actions occupied a shift in my perspective; my mother stepped
into herself and my sister returned home.

[@nristina lit ~the effigy. —- = it
blazed. Orange flames and black smoke
rose communicatively towards the sky.]

The bits and pieces of myself, all tied together,
transformed through chemistry into one disappeared habit.
Black hat magic.

[About one hour later, Christina
still in the backyard, cigarette in one
hand, hose hanging limp in the other,
stood facing the charred remains. ]

Charcoal black angel of deliverance — transforma-
tive carbon creature, having finally taken form enough to
secure me in your warm embrace; I can see, you left the
burned black trace of my imperfections on the surface of my
skin.

[She turned and went inside - her
thin shoulders strong, her body glowing
damp in vulnerability. She found Annie
and Jack staring vacantly: at the tiv;
eating lunchtime macaroni and cheese with
ketchup. They turned and looked up at her
with guarded expectancy. She met their
gaze, turning-off- the t.v., and walked
over and sat between them. Arms out-
stretched, she encircled all three. ]

Feeling clear, I took them up into my arms; blessed
and thankful for their presence on either side of me. I leaned
back into the couch — upright; my bare feet touching gently
on the cold floor.

influx > Magazine

April 1999 55

ee ee

by Bronwyn Chambers,

T could make out Jack,
‘my litle boy shadow ~ he played
quietly with the ears in the comer
of my. blue myopic gaze
Depression clung to me, distorting
‘my vision, I suddenly ached for
something real and called Jack
‘over. Softly Jack — Jaco snuggling
{nto me, warm, wanting. A selfish
recollection of my senses.

In retrospect 1 se my moth
ex The concentric cies of detritus
ranging the limits ofthe small apart
ment moved out cautiously from her as
she came and went like the tide. Her
presence, like an eco, reminded me over
‘and over again of her painful absence

How slowly everything
moved.

{slam}

WLO ~ HELLO 'M
HOME — WHERE'S JACK?

MOM, MOM ~ I'M HOME.

This was Annie ~ crocodile smile and gunpowder.
‘She stood, feet planted, hands on hips, not expecting, but
hoping things were different. I knew, she was bright —effu-
sive. Clear, clear, clear, she saw right through me. I was dis-
armed, frozen like a deer, embarrassed by my own inade-
quacies.

1 didn’t know. Again my thoughts circled round me.
‘Me, my, mine. Relentless self-teflection ~ idiot dance.

(Annie’s thin, wire body came
bounding into the room. She planted her-
Self expectantly in front of the couch
where Jack and Christina were laying.)

JACO, JACO POTATO ~ I'M HOME.

‘She ignored me in a seven year old petulant disap-
ppointment; she began, like the birth of a planet, to move
about the room. I saw myself in the dim half-light, lying
terooked on the couch, half-dressed, dark eyes ~ cigarette
butts. Flounder.

‘Occupy me, I prayed ~ available. For occupied, 1
was not. Annie shook me, and I rose up off the couch in
response.

[cristina eased herself up from the
couch stiffly - accounting for all the
atrophy depression brings. She moved for-
ward, stumbling blindly over her mess,
and smashed her chin down onto the cor-
ner of the coffee table, biting her lip
hard.)

MOM YOU FELL ~ MOM, MOM! ARE YOU
OKAY? EWW, YOU'RE BLEEDING.

(For a moment, she just lay there.
She watched detached, as if from above,
‘as Annie jumped frantically around - arms
moving in and out like a boxer, and Jack
backed himself into the corner.]

1 saw my body laying there, my awareness exor-
cised like a demon by the physical pain, thrashed separate
from my otherwise useful body. My eyes stared blankly
back. Sanguine complacency. Blood gushed out from the
‘gash on my lip. My gaze widened to include my children,

was tasting the warm, salty effluent running down
my chin,

EW MOM, EWW, I TOUCHED IT.

: Annie's tiny fingers splayed out in front of my face.
shiny with blood. Not right
[christina jumped up, and grabbed
Annie’s hand. Blotting her gash with the
sleeve of her free arm, she strode pur-
posefully towards the back door. Jack
trailed close behind, practically run-
ning.

Christina grabbed things as she

went through the kitchen and down the
back steps: bits of wood, string, an old
t-shirt. She caught a glimpse of herself
- manic determination, bleeding
Survivable.}

[As we ran out the back door, I feared losing the

conviction whose momentum drove me. Impetus! impo-
tence. Certainty bubbled up in me from somewhere only
vaguely familiar
WHAT ARE YA DOING, MOM? WHAT'S THAT
STUFF FOR?
[Jack started to mimic his mother,
he gathered bits of paper, an old unbrel-
la, toys, parts of cardboard packing
boxes.

‘Annie's words were clear and loud in my head as
‘was Jack’s silence. I hoped my actions would adequately
respond, as I had fallen mute, Inarticulate as a mother, 1
‘needed to take care of something. Shift the gravitational pull
‘of my interior ~ exterior
(Annie hopped up on top of an old
crate and started to provide a running
commentary. Jack and Christina bound
together the mass of stuff, using some
old rope to tie, and to give it form. She
lashed it all to a post and anchored it
into a hole. Across the way, and next
door neighbors gathered, either sensing
the imminent spectacle or fearing the
insanity of the bleeding, mad stranger in
their midst. No matter which, they just
stood in hushed attendance - staring at
Christina, who remained intently
focused. Once the figure was upright, she
turned thoughtfully towards the shed.]

[felt incomplete. The gathering of all this memory
{nto one instant, demands ritual ~ is ritual. I considered the
possibilities and stormed off towards the shed, forcing
‘myself through the gap of the cool metalic doors and into
the darkness. I felt about, my fingers searched wildly
through the mass of powdery webs. Dust fell on me, expos-
ing my sweaty effort. Ah ~ triumphant, my hand found pur-
chase on the prize container. Grabbing it, I re-entered the
backyard scene.

[Christina emerged triumphantly,
clutching the lighter fluid in hand.
Annie still going strong - she admonished
the nervous inquiries of the neighbors in
fierce defense of her mother’s unknown
intent - her unknown mother.

Christina emptied the entire tin
over the effigy. Jack walked up to his

mon - tiny man steps. He stood, legs
wide, like a cowboy, his hands clenched
gleefully up to his mouth. He intended to
draw closer to the moment. Annie's pros-
elytizing reached a fervent high

Christina pulled a matchbook out of her
pocket. A bit of silence hovered as she
struck the match and threw it at the
effigy. Jack moved back covering his ears
and squealing; he ran and fell at his
sister’s feet. Giggling to himself, he
looked up at his mother from this new
perspective. Annie fell uncharacteristi-
cally quiet.]

As I fell to the ground at my sister’ fet, exhausted from
the delight of anticipation, 1 observed the mutation ofthe form from
thought, into action, into an active prayer. I saw my mother as she
cirled the fire repeiively, Both Beautiful and wretched ~ the flicker
of flame. She fe it with er notion, as Sane watched. transaction
of tir actions occupied a hfe in my perspective: my mother stepped.
into herself and my sister returned fame.

(Christina lit the effigy - it
blazed. Orange flames and black smoke
rose communicatively towards the sky.]

‘The bits and pieces of myself, all tied together,
transformed through chemistry into one disappeared habit.
Black hat magic.

[About one hour later, Christina
still in the backyard, cigarette in one
hand, hose hanging limp in the other,
stood facing the charred remains. ]

‘Charcoal black angel of deliverance — transforma-
tive carbon creature, having finally taken form enough to
secure me in your warm embrace; I can see, you left the
bbumed black trace of my imperfections on the surface of my
skin,

(She turned and went inside - her
thin shoulders strong, her body glowing
damp in vulnerability. She found Annie
and Jack staring vacantly at the t.v.,
eating lunchtime macaroni and cheese with
ketchup. They turned and looked up at her
with guarded expectancy. She met their
gaze, turning-off the t.v., and walked
over and sat between them. Arms out-
stretched, she encircled all three.]

Feeling clear, I took them up into my arms; blessed
‘and thankful for their presence on either side of me. I leaned
back into the couch — upright; my bare feet touching gently
‘on the cold floor.

influx? Magazine April1999 55,