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Bright's Flame, Just For Fun, Week Three
Jan. 20th, 2015 08:41 amPrompt: Tradition and Ritual
Author: Urb-banal
Title: The God of Small Things
Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 900
Warnings: none
JFF
The God of Small Things
Jackie straightened her back with one hand on her backside, crack! She shuffled over to the laundry hamper and dropped a bundle of dirty clothes in it.
5:30 a.m. and she would have to get the baby up to take her to the sitters. She hated waking her; the pocket of moist sweet warmth surrounding her seemed too perfect. She changed the baby's diaper; made up the bottles for the day, packed her bag, and kissed her at every opportunity.
Three jobs and she could just cover her rent and food. The rare child support she received from their father went to pay off overdue bills and maybe a take-out pizza.
Her oldest son, Butter, had moved out. He would come back and buy her a house some day, or so he said. She loved him like he was some sort of movie star. He was good looking and smart. He was also in trouble but she couldn't see that. The boys in the complex called him "Butter" because he wasn't black enough, and because he was smooth. Jackie thought it was from the expression "Butter wouldn't melt" so she took to calling him Butter too. His real name was Birbal which meant “Brave Heart" in Hindi. His father gave it to him. Dave was of Scottish extraction. He liked the name Birbal and thought it might be an olive branch to her parents, but they had rejected the three of them. Jackie and Dave married, struggled and fought through two more kids and now Jackie was on her own with them, just as they predicted.
6:30 a.m. and it was time wake up Mack. Cereal on the table, books for school in the bag. She would tell him over and over to make his bed and put his dishes in the sink. She loved him, but begrudgingly, and this made her feel ashamed and exhausted. An outsider could have seen how much he looked like his father, but she couldn't, all she knew was as that the mere sight of him tore her. She never looked at him with her eyes wide open and he was aware of it. It was how she could miss all the ways he tried to show her he was a good boy.
She dropped the baby off three doors down. The baby sitter’s apartment reeked of sick and of sour. Four toddlers wandered about the living room listlessly. After soaking her baby’s face with kisses to the admonishment of the babysitter she left and was on her way to her first part time job.
Two more part-time jobs and she would be done for the day.
******************
Jackie trudged up the walk to the low rise apartment building after her long day. It was dark and she was always frightened during this part of her journey home. The locks were recently repaired. She fumbled in her pockets to find the new key. The light above the door had been smashed again and she had to use what little illumination there was from the streetlight some distance away to find the lock and put in the key. She cursed the little toughs who did it under her breath. She suspected one of Mack's friends. She slogged up the stairs, leaning against the wall on the landing of the fourth floor for a moment, shifting her bags of groceries to the other arm before walking the final flight.
At the babysitters, the woman nodded and put a finger to her lips and pointed down the hall towards the bedroom. The baby was sleeping in a crib and there was a man sleeping in the bed; the baby sitter's husband, his hairy back visible where the sheets had pulled away. Jackie shuddered. This is only temporary. She scooped her daughter up and the baby stayed asleep. She was heavy and awkward, dead weight. A little arm extended out past Jackie’s neck and when she got to the kitchen the babysitter jumped up and gently tucked it under the baby’s cheek. They mouthed the words, “See you.” and “Thank you.” at each other as she stepped out into the hall. At the door to her apartment she set the groceries on the floor while she shifted the baby to the other shoulder, turning the key in her door.
Mack was in his bed asleep. She put the baby in the crib and headed out to the hall and then the kitchen to put away the groceries.
She gathered up Mack’s homework spread across the kitchen table and put it in his bag. A slight smile crossed her face as she saw that he had done the dishes. She so rarely noticed the small things, so overwhelmed by the weight of the large and unwieldy. She was raised in the tradition of giving thanks for the moments of understanding that arose, though it had failed to make a difference to anyone who might have helped her, or so it seemed to her. She touched the head of the small Buddha that sat on counter. She stopped at Mack's room and went in and kissed him on his forehead.
Then, in the small room that she shared with her baby daughter, she took her from the crib and brought her in the bed with her. She curled her body around her as if she was a harbor and her child was a tiny ship she was protecting, whispering, as she did every night a prayer:
Karacharana Krn Itam Vaakkaayajam Karmajam Vaa, Shravananayanajam Vaa Maanasam Vaaparaadham, Vihitamavihitam Vaa Sarvametatkshamasva,Jaya Jaya Karunaabdhe Shriimahaadeva Shambho*
And then fell into an exhausted sleep, still wearing her coat.
*******
*Meaning: "O God, kindly pardon my incorrect actions done consciously or unconsciously, either through action or through perception by my mind. I adore the God (of small things), who is the ocean of kindness".
This is just for fun so I have re-worked "Harbour" which was something I wrote a long time ago.
Author: Urb-banal
Title: The God of Small Things
Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 900
Warnings: none
JFF
The God of Small Things
Jackie straightened her back with one hand on her backside, crack! She shuffled over to the laundry hamper and dropped a bundle of dirty clothes in it.
5:30 a.m. and she would have to get the baby up to take her to the sitters. She hated waking her; the pocket of moist sweet warmth surrounding her seemed too perfect. She changed the baby's diaper; made up the bottles for the day, packed her bag, and kissed her at every opportunity.
Three jobs and she could just cover her rent and food. The rare child support she received from their father went to pay off overdue bills and maybe a take-out pizza.
Her oldest son, Butter, had moved out. He would come back and buy her a house some day, or so he said. She loved him like he was some sort of movie star. He was good looking and smart. He was also in trouble but she couldn't see that. The boys in the complex called him "Butter" because he wasn't black enough, and because he was smooth. Jackie thought it was from the expression "Butter wouldn't melt" so she took to calling him Butter too. His real name was Birbal which meant “Brave Heart" in Hindi. His father gave it to him. Dave was of Scottish extraction. He liked the name Birbal and thought it might be an olive branch to her parents, but they had rejected the three of them. Jackie and Dave married, struggled and fought through two more kids and now Jackie was on her own with them, just as they predicted.
6:30 a.m. and it was time wake up Mack. Cereal on the table, books for school in the bag. She would tell him over and over to make his bed and put his dishes in the sink. She loved him, but begrudgingly, and this made her feel ashamed and exhausted. An outsider could have seen how much he looked like his father, but she couldn't, all she knew was as that the mere sight of him tore her. She never looked at him with her eyes wide open and he was aware of it. It was how she could miss all the ways he tried to show her he was a good boy.
She dropped the baby off three doors down. The baby sitter’s apartment reeked of sick and of sour. Four toddlers wandered about the living room listlessly. After soaking her baby’s face with kisses to the admonishment of the babysitter she left and was on her way to her first part time job.
Two more part-time jobs and she would be done for the day.
******************
Jackie trudged up the walk to the low rise apartment building after her long day. It was dark and she was always frightened during this part of her journey home. The locks were recently repaired. She fumbled in her pockets to find the new key. The light above the door had been smashed again and she had to use what little illumination there was from the streetlight some distance away to find the lock and put in the key. She cursed the little toughs who did it under her breath. She suspected one of Mack's friends. She slogged up the stairs, leaning against the wall on the landing of the fourth floor for a moment, shifting her bags of groceries to the other arm before walking the final flight.
At the babysitters, the woman nodded and put a finger to her lips and pointed down the hall towards the bedroom. The baby was sleeping in a crib and there was a man sleeping in the bed; the baby sitter's husband, his hairy back visible where the sheets had pulled away. Jackie shuddered. This is only temporary. She scooped her daughter up and the baby stayed asleep. She was heavy and awkward, dead weight. A little arm extended out past Jackie’s neck and when she got to the kitchen the babysitter jumped up and gently tucked it under the baby’s cheek. They mouthed the words, “See you.” and “Thank you.” at each other as she stepped out into the hall. At the door to her apartment she set the groceries on the floor while she shifted the baby to the other shoulder, turning the key in her door.
Mack was in his bed asleep. She put the baby in the crib and headed out to the hall and then the kitchen to put away the groceries.
She gathered up Mack’s homework spread across the kitchen table and put it in his bag. A slight smile crossed her face as she saw that he had done the dishes. She so rarely noticed the small things, so overwhelmed by the weight of the large and unwieldy. She was raised in the tradition of giving thanks for the moments of understanding that arose, though it had failed to make a difference to anyone who might have helped her, or so it seemed to her. She touched the head of the small Buddha that sat on counter. She stopped at Mack's room and went in and kissed him on his forehead.
Then, in the small room that she shared with her baby daughter, she took her from the crib and brought her in the bed with her. She curled her body around her as if she was a harbor and her child was a tiny ship she was protecting, whispering, as she did every night a prayer:
Karacharana Krn Itam Vaakkaayajam Karmajam Vaa, Shravananayanajam Vaa Maanasam Vaaparaadham, Vihitamavihitam Vaa Sarvametatkshamasva,Jaya Jaya Karunaabdhe Shriimahaadeva Shambho*
And then fell into an exhausted sleep, still wearing her coat.
*******
*Meaning: "O God, kindly pardon my incorrect actions done consciously or unconsciously, either through action or through perception by my mind. I adore the God (of small things), who is the ocean of kindness".
This is just for fun so I have re-worked "Harbour" which was something I wrote a long time ago.
