|Dreams and Nightmares
Author: Rosie Seifuku PM
reality ends when death becomes a nightmare never forgotten... *short stories*Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,909 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 1 - Updated: 09-08-03 - Published: 05-14-03 - id: 1303209
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hello once more….this is much sadder than I usually do, I'm sorry, but it popped into my head and would not go away…enjoy!
Mama's city is always busy. All you have to do is walk with her.
Every time, we see Mr. Forster watering his flowers. Did you know he has the most beautiful roses in the city? My mama knows. She knows everything. Miss Applley sits on her porch, rocking back and forth, back and forth. If you go up and sit with her, she'll give you cookies and lemonade. She makes warm cinnamon cookies every Tuesday because she knows that's my day to visit my mama. Cinnamon cookies go perfectly with a tall glass of tart lemonade and a twirly straw. If you sit quiet as a mouse, Miss Applley will tell you all about her growing up days. She talks about the boys she liked and the parties she went to, about the time she snuck out of her house to save a "dear little kitty" and got caught by her daddy. She says he thrashed her so bad, she couldn't sit down for a whole month! I always look at mama, and she smiles at me. I know my mama would never hurt me like that. I love my mama.
We finish our cookies and tell Miss Applley we love them. Then she takes me inside and gives me a little piece of chocolate. "Our little secret," she tells me, but I know mama told her how much I love chocolate. I love it almost as much as I love mama.
We wave goodbye, my mama and me, and thank Miss Applley for the snack. Then we keep walking, hand in hand. Our next stop is the store where Mr. Ulmer works. We walk in and Mr. Ulmer smiles down at me. He calls me the "little shopper" because I'm such a big help to mama. While mama talks I look around the store. Mr. Ulmer always lets me explore because he knows I won't mess anything up. Not with my mama there. I wander from the left corner to the right, looking at all the neat stuff. I stare at the dolls made of china, sniff the sharp spices and try to imagine where the came from, but all I can see in my head is mama's city. Mr. Ulmer once told me that all the spices come from way off countries like India, where there's tigers and elephants and a big white castle! I want to go there someday.
Mama's done now and Mr. Ulmer hands me a bag of toffee for being "such a good helper." I share my sweet with mama because I know it's her favorite. When we leave I beg mama to take me to the park. We walk across the street, looking both right and left, and as soon as we step on the grass I take off my shoes. I like to wiggle my toes in the green, green grass. Mama laughs and soon her shoes are off too. We go down deep into the park and splash our bare feet in the cool lake water and watch the motorboats putter back and forth, back and forth. I tell my mama that I want to be a boat driver some day and she hugs me. She says I can be whatever I want. My mama knows everything. After we do that we go to the swings—my favorite part of the park—and play for a bit, seeing who can swing higher. Mama always lets me win, but I don't mind. I like to win.
When we get tired of the swings mama says its time to go home. Sadly I put on my shoes and she helps me tie them; then we go on home, hand in hand. As we turn on our street, the ice cream truck goes vrooooom around the corner. I look at mama, who knows just what to do. She gets two cones: chocolate for me, strawberry for her. The ice cream man tips his hat to mama and me, and I smile at him. He knows how special my mama is. Together we walk home, hand in hand, just mama and me.
"Time to clean up!"
Carefully, I clean up my blocks and put them away. Teacher always says I'm one of the best kids because I always clean up. I tell her that mama told me I needed to clean up my messes. Then I make sure to put my dolls in my cubby and assure them that I will return, just like mama did. But mama didn't keep her promise. I don't understand.
"Hanna, your father's here!"
I run up to Daddy, show him my pictures and tell him all about the fun things I did with mama. He smiles at me, that sad smile that I don't understand. He only smiles like that when I talk about mama.
"Let's go to the cemetery. We can see your mama there and you can tell her all about it."
But Daddy doesn't understand that I don't have to tell her anything. My mama knows everything.
Together we walk out, hand in hand, on our way to visit my mama. It's Tuesday, after all.