Chapter 1: Dear Unwanted
I was thinking about things as if the flash in the pan and the frying pan fled into this mighty thought. Who loves me the most in the world? Can pain relief help you? Is this medicine alright and that one too should take away the agony of having me with you. Who hurt you most mama who hurt you most when he threw a tantrum and broke your wrist, as you two were taking me to Nan’s?
Hurt you did he mother he hurt. Did you hurt me too just to see that we can hurt one another and left me alone with auntie who hurts all the time even her own. She hurts me and she hurts her own children too ma. I could have been real bad mother and that would have amused you would it not? I could have been the worse of the lot but was not why mother?
You left me to rot ma you left me to rot in poverty when baths are a luxury and soap is the one thing one is with the precious jewel with. Then you pulled the chain and made off to this prattle land; when all you had was the phone to ask how I did.
Prattle land and ask and ask again because you want to know if I am over you and getting better. When you found out me was insane too convinced that it was your narrow escape and you wept not at all but laughed at the narrowness of your escape as if a escapee at Colditz.
You knew how I did because you always was certain to ask. What matters to me and to you? We did not share this talk. We had a one sided talk as if the talk was relentless.
“And how is she Zeks?”
How can’t you send me a card a greetings card a Christmas card a birthday card what would everyone say when there is not one card from you. I spent the best years of my life in some hell because you were over spent and did not want another clown to add to your string of bows. The arrows I flung to strike the right one was never the right one missed the whole thing. Spent the day looking for a Christmas card for you mother and do you know what happened?
I only bought an expensive one because that is what I thought you would like and then missed your birthday did not realise I was two weeks over due. Due to my hesitating and mistake, mother I humbly apologised for bankrupting my poor resources and sending you a birthday card. It was not to your taste oh to your taste but if only it had come with the others it would have looked so nice on with theirs on the mantelpiece then in the album which you keep everything.
How can she be so insular and insolent to have sent a card toppling theirs and they not aware of how attractive that would have made the display. Must not make them unhappy by over shining theirs, because now they will have to wait until next birthday to top this one. How unkind it is too? To think all the brother and sisters think about is toppling this card of ours.
How can it be that the wisdom down the ages is to topple cards like houses.
You should have sent a late one someone said you should have sent a late birthday greetings this does not feel right. I thought do not even know her birthday and that is my own and that makes me a what? I wailed in discomfort there is something oddly not efficient about me and that is a fact.
But oily and slick you did pass the thing off as if subdued that there was no one to care about your birthday and answered that all the others knew when you were born and did it matter if I did not being a mere nobody?
I think it might have slipped through your tongue into the phone it was inconvenient and the others would be sure not to be amused. As if the hellish delights went on too long and too far we went on to say the usual things about work related things which you even delight in more. So this is a business is it not? This is what you like to do? I confirm that is true and of course mean well by her as one does what else can one afford to lose I thought she might help me somehow. As the saying goes when in trouble one has to go to the snake for help.
You see I needed Bob to accompany me to the cafe and there was something did not understand about the whole thing it was not as if I knew anything about the whole deal but it meant there was something fishy going on what him saying I was too ill kept for the car and dirty to sit on the seat and why did not I have a bath after painting seven rooms in the cafe.
Well made me think when he got the whole toilet seat done and got paid for the deal and them seem to not to know each other but speaking the same language sort of. You know then I began to wonder about the whole show. So mother or auntie as she is known was the one to help me out. Because she stopped whatever I had been enjoying for the past fifty years.
Well of course she was not enjoying me having this perfect hobby and told her sister in law off. I meant no harm at all my dear said my poor auntie infatuation or love can be very painful.
As we were mutually delighted with each other then we said good night for the night and we went to our rooms made our tea and seethed in peace and quiet.
Then realised it would never do it would never do at all. So ceased sending you greetings any greetings no went on the phone to ask for you to answer and for me to ask why?
Because of you being the worse mother in the world. I wanted to become the best of someone and that is worse because I am just an unwanted nobody. Nobody invites me over for tea nobody wants me around. They all try it on treat me like some drag, for I am a drag I am someone whom they used to call Sardines, for I was cramped inside my little box and appalled everyone by my smell.
There is nothing to say to some parent who made off with the money and sold you to the highest bidder to make ends meet. Mother dearest there is nothing to sing about. You see they lost their home when I had been born and then where did they get their other house from?
That they destroyed me and they made me a invalid meant that there was nothing for the future but in a future so bleak without a man of one’s own and fearing nothing but boredom and alone and alone as if that was a song in my head.
I did not cry that night I spent it joyously planning my future my only hope was in education and that meant doing the rounds of night schools. I spent the night trawling through course materials in order to get through the aims and ambitions which I had set myself. There was no little time spent should a poet study poetry classes and should I study cookery class to do a bit of culinary skill?
I spent some time thinking on this and should a waitress do a little basic maths in order to improve on her skills and then what other skills did I need? I sent the order of my basic education through and glanced through the literature A’level there was some places left for the English and sent in for that this would be my last A’level attempt.
I had done five previous courses of A’level literature they all said the same you are not ready for the exam and that was that.
English something wrong with my English said the English teacher before she run off with a young man whom she said satisfied her and her boring job could go to hell. She sent me off to the dyslexia institute and I would have been sorted but as she run off I was not sorted.
So ended up doing A’level after A’level after A’level.
The joke went on for far too long.
“Not ready for the exams.”
“Not ready why not?”
“Not ready yet maybe next year.”
“How many years?”
I went to a different college and got a Turkish A’level in literature there in the first year so what?
Where the damnest teacher spent the year and a half doing a book worth 25% and not taking into account the other 75% of the literature. I think we had some fun trying to gauge what we were supposed to be doing with a teacher who did not know anything about Turkish literature. That she did not know what Laid back Em meant was a thing we all thought hilarious.