Chapter 17

Cool, crisp, night air filled Hayvn’s lungs as she greedily gulped through the small crack made by raising her bedroom window painstakingly slow. She was not supposed to have the window open, but fresh air was balm for her soul. It rejuvenated her and took her out of her claustrophobically insulated prison. No, she was not in a literal prison. She was at home, right where she’d always been and belonged, yet she hated her sheltered life with her humorless and unrelenting uncle more and more each day. G’Mama had said she was like her mother, a restless free spirit, who was happiest when on the go. The woman never lied.

Hayvn wanted out of the house she had spent every one of her ten years on Earth in that had morphed into a prison over the later five of those years, away from her distant and solemn uncle who lived for work and the coming Great Tribulation, and to be liberated from the mystical secrets that she knew was the root cause of her problems. Her smile, the broad grin she had been known for in her formative years, was hollow and plastic nowadays. She was lonely and miserable in a prison without bars.

“It’s just a matter of time.” Uncle Ibrahim had told her more than once when she had tried to tell him he shouldn’t be sad and as always, he had been right. Unless Hayvn was a complete idiot, she too would eventually be dragged down into the depths of despair and misery that plagued all who lived in this house. Always he promised to tell her about things when she was older and with the loss of her natural bubbliness, something told her she would soon be old enough to know, though she wasn’t so sure that would be a good thing.

Moonlight illuminated the backyard with its’ seldom used trampoline and algae filled pond. Hayvn wanted nothing more than to be out there soaking up the sun’s rays and filling her lungs with humid air as big yards are meant to be enjoyed, however she knew that was out of the question. Her overworked uncle preferred she entertain herself indoors where it was easier to keep track of her. He treated her like he didn’t think she had enough sense not to maim herself doing something stupid like jumping in the dirty pond despite knowing she couldn’t swim or try to jump out of a tree on to the trampoline. There was no point in arguing with him about anything even if you didn’t agree with it, because once his mind was made up that’s all there was to the matter, so she had to content herself to looking out the window and imagining. If she felt really daring, like she did tonight, then she’d open the window and fill up on fresh air while she fantasized. Every now and again she stirred audibly so he didn’t think she was sneaking around doing something she shouldn’t and come to investigate.

“You can’t get much past me, Little Girl!” She mimicked him and allowed herself a small giggle into the musty fake hair of the baby doll, whom she had christened Lyric, held cradled in her arms.

Her bedroom, with its’ bin of dolls and stuffed animals, was not really hers’ though it might as well have been seeing as her crib had been put in here from day one to force her then 16-year-old mother to take some responsibility. From what little Hayvn knew that plan hadn’t worked out too well and it ended up being G’Mama who got up with her in the middle of the night so she didn’t wake the whole house. More than once G’Mama came in cussing and fussing into the cramped shared room to find the window up, her daughter gone, and a tiny baby alone in its’ crib. Or woken up to find the same baby kicking and squirming in her bed placed there by the same wayward daughter, who could not be bothered to help raise the child she irresponsibly brought into this world.

“I love you, Little Girl.” She told the doll hugging it and imagining that it was her.

“What are you up to, Little Girl?”

Hayvn startled and almost dropped the doll wondering how long her uncle had been standing there and spying on her. He did this all the time, listening and observing undetected until he decided to make his presence known. CIA moles didn't have anything on him.

“Just thinking.” She mumbled. “That’s all.” The light in her bedroom was off, which she realized now was probably what had drawn his attention. He checked on her religiously during the night in case she really did take after her mother and get any bright ideas about escaping out of windows. Four years of finding her asleep in bed night after night had not yet convinced him she wasn’t an AWOL risk. “What else can I do?”

“Close the window and go to bed perhaps?” came his quick answer. “Don’t bother lying. I hear the wind whistling through the crack.”

Compliantly Hayvn shut the window and made sure the blinds and curtains were drawn tight. Lyric she tossed hastily on to her bed to free up her hands to do what he wanted done as quickly as possible. In her mind, she told it that the sooner she got rid of him the sooner they could cuddle in bed as they did every night and talk about all the things she had kept bottled inside throughout the seemingly endless day.

“Good night, Uncle” She said aloud as a formality more than anything else.

“So, I’m uncle tonight?” Ibrahim grumbled drily. “Are you ever going to make up your mind which I am? Good night, Little Girl and Ugly Doll.”

He left closing the door behind him and leaving Hayvn in complete darkness. Already showered and changed since 6 in the evening, as she was every evening they did not attend the Kingdom Hall, the affection starved child groped her way to the head of the creaky full sized bed and slid under the covers with her companion in her arms. She did not know the exact time and really it did not matter since when Uncle/Daddy said it was time for bed then it was time to get into bed, but sleep did not descend upon her immediately. Her exhaustion was mentally and psychologically rather than physically, opportunities to tire herself out in the latter aspect being few and far between.

“Uncle says G’Mama bought this house for her kids and it’s supposed to be our home, but it ain’t nobody’s home if you ask me.” She whispered in Lyric’s cool plastic ear. “You’re supposed to wanna go home and be with people you love, but don’t none of us wanna be here in this loveless and sad place no more.” Regardless of how surely, she knew that her beloved grandmother wanted nothing more than her happiness and health, success and wellbeing, she was nothing short of lost without the woman and had only herself to blame. If she had just come back inside the house sooner then she could have saved G’Mama, gotten her help and basked in the comfort of falling asleep beside her, a fantasy that played itself out every night in her dreams.

            “Where’s G’Mama?”

            Hayvn remembered her 5-year-old self staring perplexedly at the nice lady who told her that her uncle had come to take her home. She had been told her grandmother was going to come for her as soon as she got out of the hospital. Everyone told her how brave she’d been to call 911 to get help and this reassurance had made her confident that everything would be just fine. Each of the past four days at the children’s shelter had been spent in anticipation of seeing her grandmother’s expressive cocoa face and feeling the warmth of her pillowy arms. Instead she found herself looking into her uncle’s dour face.

            He had swept her into his long skeletal arms, pushed her head down on his bony shoulder, and strode out into the sweltering summer’s day without so much as a hello to her. She had gotten glimpse of his strange bluish eyes behind his rectangular framed glasses as he leaned in to strap her into her car seat when they reached his truck and tried to decipher the vague coldness she found in them. Though she was well acquainted with her Uncle Ibrahim from seeing him in her grandmother’s home, had ridden and even fallen asleep in his painfully thin arms, and heard both her grandmother and mother sing his praises, Hayvn found herself filled with anxiety. If he had not carried her to his truck and strapped her in himself then she questioned even years later, if she would have gone with him.

            It had taken her a long time, in spite of her friendly and trusting nature, to be able to just accept and love the constant presence of her Uncle Ibrahim. Every day she had awakened demanding and looking for G’Mama only to be told the woman who’d raised her continuously from birth was no long a part of her reality. To offset the devastation, she’d learned to cling to her uncle and in doing so had been able to get on with her life. The only time she wasn’t okay were on nights like tonight when his total lack of affection and empathy reminded her of who was no longer there with her.  

            “When I heard the ‘pop’ I should’ve come inside then.” She whispered to her inanimate companion through a painful lump in her throat. “G’Mama needed me and I was too busy outside with you, pushing you around in the stroller.”

            Upon her return home with her uncle, she had found Lyric still in the stroller near the back door where she’d left it when she went inside for a drink, something G’Mama would usually have brought outside to her. Inside she’d called out saying she wanted an ice pop since she wasn’t old enough to use scissors and G’Mama didn’t like for her to rip things open with her teeth. She’d taken the ice pop, purple grape flavored, upstairs with her to be opened when a response was not forthcoming.

            Two steps into her grandmother’s bedroom and all she saw was red.

            “Hurry up.” The little girl had said to the 911 operator. “She’s almost dead.” No matter how hard she shook G’Mama or screamed her name, she had not budged.

            Then those people had come and told her that everything would be fine, her grandmother would be fine and she was very smart to call them. The social worker took her to the children’s shelter insisting that she wait there for G’Mama. Policemen came and asked her what remembered.

            They all lied.

            More than four years later she was still waiting for a reunion which she knew would never occur in this realm and for this reason she sobbed herself to sleep.

Author's Note

Please feel free to critique and comfort

Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

Once again, you've packed a lot of information in one sentence that confuses and tires me.

Hayvn wanted out of the house she had spent every one of her ten years on Earth in that had morphed into a prison over the later five of those years, away from her distant and solemn uncle who lived for work and the coming Great Tribulation, and to be liberated from the mystical secrets that she knew was the root cause of her problems.

I'm heartbroken over Hayvn's lonely life. This was a moving chapter.

[MeratheRestless]

I'll have to think about this one and how to break it apart. I'm not good at that.