May 25th 2011 anyother nam
+1+
“Coffee”, my father held up his large coffee mug and called nonchalantly to the housekeeper, not even realizing she wasn't in ear shot.
“I’ll get it, Father”, I moved from my place behind the kitchen counter and grabbed the French press from the kitchen.
As I poured the coffee,Father tossed aside the plastic covering on the newspaper and began to read. His glasses tilted low on his nose as he eyes scanned the headlines. His hair was almost completely gray now, there were times when I was certain he looked much older than he was.
There were seldom times when Father could really stand be in my presence. It was mostly at dinner or Sunday afternoon's in the sun room. Usually with his work, newspaper or another person to distract him. Occasionally he would offer me a comment about the new violin shipment or a promising student at the academy.
Today I knew, would be without the luxury.
The two of us had sat in complete silence for the past half hour, I kept waiting for him to speak to me but he didn’t.
As I poured the coffee I watched father’s hands as they gripped the cup. They were very smooth and clean only covered with his wedding and football rings.
Our tense silence was interrupted by the sound of my little brother Clarence’s dress shoes clacking down the hall. He was dressed for Mass and had apparently squirmed away from Nanny Ella’s grasp before she cold put his tie on. He laughed and hid behind me as Nanny Ella wandered downstairs appearing very confused.
“Morning, Sissy !”, he whispered a to me while running around to the kitchen table. “Sissy” had become the unofficial name for all of his big sisters.
“Good Morning”, I said though I doubt he heard me, he undoubtedly was a morning person.
Mother came down a little later, stopping to play with my hair a little. She wasn’t particularly fond of the fact that I had straightened it, claiming it laid a bit to flat and was far to long for her liking.
“Where’s, Rosalie?”, Mother asked. She placed her hands on father's shoulder and bent down to kiss him.
Father and I were silent. Mother began to look between us for answer. I kept my eyes low catching a glimpse at the front page of the news. The headline stood out to me and I could see just the edge of a picture.
“Clara. . . Clara ?”, my mother called softly, "did something happen ?"
“the girl was . . . wandering around last night", Father answered, "Trying to cause trouble. Clara doesn't know how to. . . isn't that right Clara ?”
“She wasn't going to do anything wrong, She just doesn’t like the dark”, I said. I sounded as if I were going to break into tears “You didn’t have to. . . didn’t have to shake her so much”
“For Godsakes, calm down Clara”, father gritted between his teeth.
“She’s just a little girl”, I stood up knocking over my plate and coffee cup More silence ensued and Clarence began to look wide eyed between my parents and I.
Images from last night began to overwhelm me.
Now that she was almost four Rose insisted on having a real bed, last night had been her first night in her new bed. I was somewhat concerned, she (like her mother, I suppose) was prone to nightmares. I was afraid she was going to roll over in the midst of a fit and fall out of her bed and hurt herself, which in turn would lead into a fight with father to get her to a hospital.
I had stepped out of my own bed and over the pages of sheet music, books and articles that littered the floor all in lieu of the daunting dissertation that had taken up the better part of my life.
I found Rose's room empty, the nightlight in her room was turned of and I inched closer to be sure.
I began to panic when I heard a noise from Clarence’s room just down the hall. Rose had been standing over him, her hair in a neat little mess. She began inching closer and closer to a sleeping Clarence.
She appeared to be saying something but I couldn’t make it out
“Rose” I scolded her quietly as to not wake my parents sleeping next door, “What are you—“
That was when Father stormed in cutting me off, He too had been watching the scene not to fond at all of Rose’s antics. He demanded her to tell him what she was doing. When she wouldn’t answer him, he placed both hands on her shoulders and began to violently shake her demanding an answer.
I knew I had to stop him and attempted to push him away all while smelling the scotch on my father’s breath. He now had a grasp on my arm, which I suppose was better than hers.
He didn’t speak any harsh words, his grasp tightening. When he let me go I realized I had bitten right through my lip.
“Mommy”, Rose had said walking towards me with her hand outstretched.
She placed a tiny pair of sharp scissors that I used to cut her hair ribbons into my hand. I always made it a habit to hide sharp thing from her in case she might try to hurt one of her cousins. Had I not put these in the top of my closet ?
I pushed the memories from last night out of my mind and began searching for my car keys and packing up my laptop. I stopped for just a second in the mirror taking the time to pile on makeup to cover my scars, they were nothing more than hideous discolorations and deep indentations that would never really heal.
Somehow I had come to terms with the idea, they were like a stain that I couldn't wash off. Although at times I found myself trying to.It was not hard looking at them so much as looking at old photos of what was before. I keep thinking one day I'll see that woman in the mirror again. . . just for a few seconds.
I knocked on the frame of Rose’s door before peeking in around the door frame. It was still strange to see her crib replaced with a twin sized white oak bed. It was an original and hand made with heart shaped cut-outs with her name inscribed on it.
Rose sat around her tea table, her dolls and stuffed animals filing almost all the seats. Her jet black hair fell in large curls touching her shoulder. She looked up at me, her large fair eyes looking over me as if she knew she had done something wrong.
Nanny Ella and I had agreed that Rose was quite smart for her age, perhaps it was all the time she spent with adults. She insisted on dressing herself. She liked to wear butterflies and had dressed herself in a black t-shirt with butterfly foils and a beaded bracelet with checkered skirt with tights.
Without so much a word I picked her up, taking her Raggedy Ann doll with me. The red headed doll had once again the brunt of Rose’s tantrum and would need her arm sewn back on.
“Where are you going ?”, mother asked as we came down the stairs.
“To the park”, I decided on the spot
“At least take breakfast with you. . . and Clara”
“Yes, Mother”
"Please be patient with your father"
"I'm tired of being patient"
I knew I shouldn’t be upset with her, My father’s temper towards Rose was as much my doing as anyone. Every time I was a step closer to leaving his home. . . something pulled me back.
The kitchen was empty now and I slipped in to grab the morning paper keeping it out of Rose’s view.
+2+
I drove around town a bit. If it had been a weekend and time permitted I had always found a calm reasonable place by taking weekend trips to New Haven to visit Emile.
Like my family he’d never asked to many questions, but I felt he may have cared more for Rosalie than my family would allow themselves.
When Rose was a baby she would fall asleep on the long drive to New Haven and Emile and I would both sit on the floor till midnight rehashing politics and music while he made fun of my benevolent father.
I found a parking space at the park and as soon as she was free from her car seat Rose was hesitant to leave the car but assured her the park would be quiet today and she wouldn't have altercations with some of the other children. I was sure she tried but it was difficult for her to get along with them.
We had breakfast under the shade of a willow tree while I read a little bit to Rose. She asked to play and I was some what concerned about the steep hill at the edge of the park where I sometimes feared she might fall into the lake below,
I watched from underneath the shade a Rose settled onto a nearby swing. The wind lightly blew her curls and I suppose if she had been upset with my father she wasn't anymore.
I pulled out the morning paper I had snagged from the kitchen, the picture on the front page more than the headline now began to stick out to me.
They had found a body.
A body of a teenager.
He appeared older not yet out of adolescence, his hair slightly longer but I recognized him.
What was his name ?
Joshua, yes that was it.
Somehow the name alone sent shivers down my spine. I took out the article and re-read it numerous times.
His death was a genuine accident, a drunk driver at night. According to the paper Joshua was known as 'John Doe" I didn't really know anything about Joshua, but perhaps he at least needed a name other than John Doe. I considered calling the police but there were to many dots to connect.
Even after all these years
I closed my eyes and forced myself remain reasonable
Joshua would be around 15 now, a growing young man whose life had been cut short, again it seemed. It didn’t sit well with me so I put the paper away and turned to my school work and the pile of undergrad papers I had to grade.
Still there was something unsettling.
“Look what I found”, Rose walked over to me, her outfit now covered in dirt, there was something in her hand. As she came closer I saw it was a glittery pink envelope that was decorated with piano stickers.
“What is this ? Where did you get this ?”, I asked her. She had a terrible habit of taking things from Ella or Clarence’s room without asking. I looked around realizing we were the only ones in the park.
“I found it”, she said as if she had done something wrong.
I took it from her and sent her off to play, the envelope was heavy and inside was a ‘Thinking of you’ greeting card For a moment it felt as if my heart had stopped and I pushed such foolish thoughts from my mind and opened the card.
There was a short message inscribed inside.
Dear Clara
Rosalie Emmeline Romano
August 3rd 2008 – July 3rd 2011
Rest in Peace
Let’s Play
- Victor
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