-----
She was still there. He knew she would
never move from that spot. She would never leave her Babyduck.
She said she wouldn’t. Daddyduck was also there. Mariah, Mariah,
I did love you so. Why did you do it? Oh my poor baby, my poor
little baby. He choked and shaked and trembled and put his big head
in his broad heavy hands. There really was no need to cry.
Mamaduck was here, Babyduck was here and so was Papaduck. They were
all together on the mirror lake. Mama was lying in her red dress
on the red mirror lake. And he could see millions of himself in the
lake and millions of Daddyduck. The lake was all over the floor,
some silver, some red and darkening like the velvety soft things which
X always put outside the front door. There was a million shades of
light all over everything. Daddy, there’s no need to cry. X
is not here. He had asked X if he was coming. He didn’t say,
uh-huh chickedy, uh-huh why don’t you go out and play for a while.
Really. X just wouldn’t move. He was probably tired after all
that playing with Mamaduck. Mamaduck looked tired too. But
her eyes were open so she was not sleeping. He raised his head to
the window in fearful anticipation of the next clap of thunder, where all
the light would be snatched from the mirror lake and there would be nothing
left in the darkness. But the lightning stayed in the sky as if frozen
by his will.
------
I was at a loss. What should I do?
His little frame was getting heavy. I bade the nurse with a toss
of my head to hold him. She recovered from her frozen position of
anticipation, disappointment written on her face which must have reflected
on mine. He seemed to have just found another frozen position to
reside in, with his mind no closer to home than it was before. I
wondered aloud: What does he see? What do you see now? What
did you see then?
- X was playing with Mamaduck on the lake,
Dada.
------
Mamaduck and X didn’t know he was there behind
the curtain. Chickedy, come and play hidey and seekey? Chickedy
will hide and Uncky will catch Chickedy. Chickedy hid and hid.
X never came. X lied. X was playing with Mamaduck. He
could see them on the mirror. They were laughing and fighting at
the same time.
-----
The nurse almost dropped him. Sweat
beaded on my forehead. How long before sunset? Was it the trance
of the sunlight which seemed to hold him in that enchanted smile?
-------
Daddyduck was there with his head in his hands.
Mamaduck’s mouth hadn’t moved, neither had her eyes. X wasn’t saying
anything. He had prodded and pulled at his damp hair and tugged at
the towel around his waist. The towel was getting red. Everything
in the house was becoming red. There was a stick sticking out of
X’s back. He was sure X was asleep. Are you asleep? Yes,
he said. Then Babyduck is lying. That’s how Daddyduck knew
if Babyduck was asleep. Are you asleep? X was silent.
X must be asleep. It could not have been X. There was somebody
else in the house. Daddy? Daddy, there’s someone in the house.
I’m scared.
------
Defect was slowly changing from blue to orange
to pink to purple in the setting sun. The crow might be back.
Or perhaps some other creature with similar intentions might come along.
Here was a very small version of maker. Defect could see its reflection
in his eyes, the same way the maker held it between two fingers, with it
right between the eyes, after it had rolled off the high workbench and
plummeted forever until its heart broke on the cold cement floor.
Uh oh, he had said. The smaller version had not said anything.
He was still looking dreamily at the same crack. He was smiling,
like he was happy and satisfied, like maker would when he examined a marble
true to its name. But the sun was setting. The smile was slowly
fading.
------
He was whimpering. What did he see that
made him so scared? I kept asking him questions. Who was X?
Why was Mummy not moving? Where was Daddy? I kept calling his
name. Cory. Cory. Babyduck.
------
Babyduck. And yet again, nobody had
moved. The lightning was dimming. Don’t go. Please don’t
go. Daddy, don’t leave me. It’s dark, scary and there’s someone
in the house. Daddy, please. Mummy. Mummy. He tried
to move. But everything had been frozen like the lightning in the
window. He couldn’t move towards Daddy. Daddy was very still
with his head in his hands. Daddy was a waxwork. There were
many such strange things in the circus. Cory. What do you see?
Cory? Cory? Who are you? What do you want? Mummy
and Daddy are here. Are you a bad man? The voice was getting
closer and closer.
------
I was getting very excited. The nurse
almost dropped him for the second time. I kept calling his name.
I was a fool to think that he would have known his proper name. He
was only two then when they found his mother lying lifeless on the mirror
with an axe through her back, wearing a white dress soaked with her blood,
like a slaughtered swan. He was found lying on the wooden floor with
head turned to the window as if he had been struck in the second he turned
to look out the window. Nobody was sure how come a boy of two could
survive a fractured skull. Perhaps his father could not muster the
strength to deliver the full blow, regardless of the level of deranged
anger he was possessed by.
------
The lightning was a dim silver. Everything
had dissolved in the rain. There was only that voice which was now
so close it was right in front of him. He was afraid to look.
------
The sun was gone. The nurse and I stared
at each other in despair. The boy had his eyes closed tightly shut
and was crying steadily in loud sobs and chokes wetting the nurses’ hands.
I relieved the nurse of her trembling burden. I held him in resigned
silence.
We were so close.
Disappointment thick and heavy as fog settled
all around us and coiled tightly around my chest like a snake.
-------
The little maker actually seemed very upset
at the sight of the marble, which had by now faded into the insignificance
of the black velvet night. More upset than an uh oh. Every
star in the sky had their designated place, even the rain and the diamonds
around the necks of the rich. The sharp-shooter had his enemies and
his lackeys. The haughty young child had his own designated goals
to reach, set by high parental expectations. Everything in the universe
seemed to have its purpose and light at the end of the tunnel. A
broken marble, rejected even as a gift and inedible, was something unnecessary
and additional to the workings of the universe, an extra appendage to the
whole big picture.
-------
- Are you a bad man?
- …Cory?…
------
