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Too shy and too fearful to screw this up, I didn’t answer much. He seemed okay with that, doing most of the talking at first.
As depraved as all this sounds, this period in my life was… nice. On the calm side. I was a prisoner, but not as excruciatingly lonely without Mammy. I got to see more than four walls and noisy neighbors. I got to do wonderous things like walk around in the kitchen.
The dated kitchen, with dark cabinets and more green walls, didn’t belong to a castle like in books I’d read with Mammy, but it was a miracle to me. It even had a big refrigerator, much larger than my little black one.
“You can look inside it,” Da offered, watching me touch the old wood counter tops and brown refrigerator.
I nibbled on my bottom lip as I dared to open what only could be described as another miracle. To some, the shelves would have appeared somewhat bare, yet I saw them filled with so much promise. An old head of lettuce can be quite delicious when dipped in leftover mustard. Mammy taught me that.
Bewildered by all Da had in his kitchen, I quietly asked, “Do you have dishes?”
Me being impressed seemed to boost his disturbing ego. Happily, he went to a cabinet door. “I sure do!” He opened it, adding, “And bowls!” handing me one.
I held the ceramic as if it were enchanted. “It… feels cool to the touch.”
He pushed his glasses higher on his fat nose. “Want to feel something colder?” He opened the top part of his refrigerator—a freezer so much bigger than my broken one. “Ice.”
One little cube. One little cube of ice was placed in my palm… causing me to tear up. “Wow,” I whispered, bewildered. I smiled at him as if he were a hero of mine. “This is…” I peered back at the frozen water. “Beyond words.”
Trying to act casual about impressing me again, he tugged up the rim of his pants. “Yeah, I have lots of them.” Then he jolted before getting excited. “Want to have it in a glass? Like, with a drink?”
I stumbled back two steps. I’d only ever had water in plastic bottles. Mammy had told me about what she had as a child… “Like… juice, in a glass?”
“Sure!” He rushed to another cabinet, quickly retrieving a clear glass, then went to the freezer. Clunk, clunk, clunk went ice cubes as they dropped. Then, he pulled out a small bottle of apple juice.
That cool liquid, gliding down my throat, was a dream come true. That night, I lay in bed with the biggest smile. Staring at the ceiling, I whispered, “Mammy, I had juice today.” I wished I could’ve shared it with her. She hadn’t had any for so many years.
I miss you.
Looking back on this time, it’s mind-blowing that anger didn’t build inside me. I didn’t want revenge for all Da’s crimes because I didn’t know that’s what they were. I’d never been taught to be angry for what I didn’t have. I just felt blessed for what I did have.
The times out of my room became longer and were filled with many exciting things. I learned to wash dishes and do laundry. The first time that washing machine filled with water, soapy bubbles that scrubbed clothes for me, I realized Mammy and I had been missing out. Scrubbing clothes in the tub while we bathed was nowhere near as much fun as watching clothes swoosh around by themselves.
I only had my two nightgowns to wash, but it was okay because Da had plenty of his own clothes for me to clean.
My first warm meal made me cry. It felt heavenly on my tongue. I praised and praised Da for such wonderful food.
He was so pleased with how happy I was that he let me start cooking for him.
One evening, as I was making macaroni and cheese, Da was in the connecting living room, sitting on his blue floral couch. He was watching a large, free-standing TV. I could see him but not what was on the screen. I was dying to view it, though. I was dying to see people move in the box.
Always keeping an eye on me, he must’ve noticed my wandering eyes because he asked, “Want to watch a show?”
I froze. Was this a trick question?
Waiting for an answer, he sat there on the couch, curtain-covered sliding glass doors to his left. He kept staring at me until I slowly nodded, desperately trying to contain my excitement.
That night, I got to eat dinner on a thing named after a television: a TV tray. The little tin table that unfolded was almost as incredible as what was happening on the TV!
And the miracles continued…
One morning as I was frying eggs for our breakfast, Da entered the kitchen. In his hand were four cassette tapes and a newer-used red cassette player. He told me, “These were my mother’s. I thought you’d like to listen to these while I’m at work.”
I gasped. “You had a mammy, too?”
His brows bunched when he swallowed. “Yeah, I lived here with her before she died.”
“Me too!”
