Horrors of Us...

Mother

My husband — bless his soul — passed when I was pregnant. Oh, how I loved my husband, such a caring gentleman. Then one day, some crappy October afternoon when the leaves were all blinding and bright, I saw him in the front of a wagon, some strange woman sitting beside him. I knew, then, that he had to be rid of. Who could ever cheat on a woman like me? 

 

That same whore had the audacity to show up at his funeral! Can you believe it? She told me that she was “so sorry for my loss” and that it was “very nice to see me again” —  “I’m Theodore’s old school teacher. Remember?” Well, I didn’t remember, but I guess that makes more sense than an affair. Oh well! It had to happen sooner or later. Good things never last.  

 

I gave birth to my son two months later. Fresh out of the vaginal canal, he became my whole world. I named him Theodore Jr., after his sweet gem of a father. Theodore was all I needed. The two of us would sit together for hours, just staring into each other’s eyes. It continued on that way for nearly twenty years. But, somewhere along the way I had a slip up. I became pregnant! Yesterday I popped out Little Baby Samuel on my living room floor. What a sweet child, so plump and full of life. 

 

Theodore 

I was nineteen when I left the boarding house for the first time. It was a snowy day in mid-December, and my mother was on hour two of a brandy haze. Around this point she was usually deep under. I had already packed my bags earlier that morning and stowed them away behind the stack of cheese crates that mimicked my bedroom door. I didn’t have many belongings — just my finest duds and some socks — so I brought with me everything I owned. Well, almost everything. Mother and I shared the toothbrush. I let her keep it. 

​

Mother taught me everything I needed to know. She taught me my letters and the colors of the rainbow. Every morning, when the chickens coed and the sunlight pierced the window, we pushed the covers off the cot and began schooling. Sometimes, my neighbor Arthur would join us. I enjoyed learning, but I wish Mother wasn’t my teacher. She called Arthur and I dopes and dingbats, and would smack us silly when we didn’t listen. 

​

I had been outside of the house plenty of times, but never past the gates and never alone. My mother watched over me, day and night, like a tiger eyeing its prey. If I flinched, the tiger would pounce and chow down on me. She’d claw me to the floor and dig her nails into my back, forming miniature grave stones, reminding me that I’d be better off dead. So, that December day, once Mother went down for her nap, I watched the seconds tick by until I was confident she was deep asleep. Then I slipped out the door.
 

Mother

I worry Theodore is bothered. I keep asking for his hand, but he just clams up real nice. Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time we horsed around. It’s terrible to think that after all this time, my Theo-pie is finally slipping away. I've dedicated my whole life to making him mine.

 

Theodore

Having lived on the same plot of land my entire life, I had memorized every fleck of dirt and every creature inside of it. I knew the best spot to dig, where the ants stayed hidden but the worms came out whole and plump. It was right behind Ms. Green’s potted flower collection, where all of the sweetness from her honey-dipped chrysanthemums seeped into the ground, perfect for feeding. 

 

So as soon as I got outside, I knew exactly where to go. I had been dreaming about busting out for years. It was only once Mother got pregnant that I started truly scheming. I couldn't let this poor child suffer like I did.

 

Mother

A few nights ago, I had the most disturbing dream. I dreamed that Theodore was in my room, hovering over Samuel’s crib with a knife in his palm. Not a butter knife, but a carving knife. Then, Theodore's hand began to tremble. Of course, my darling Theo would never do something so crass. He’s an angel. But lord in heaven, was that a terrifying dream. 

 

Theodore

I woke up this morning with my head pounding. I had just one thing on my mind — Get Samuel as far away from Mother as possible.  

 

I debated just stabbing Mother — that would help everyone, would it not? A few nights ago I was in her room with a knife. I was about to do it. But then I remembered that I would be the one left to raise Samuel, and I couldn’t let that happen. Every time I look into Samuel’s eyes, I’m reminded of those horrific nights with Mother, his green-blue eyes; the same as mine, the same as my father’s. I can’t bear to see those eyes open on that little child. I get relief every time they shut. Maybe I should make them shut for good.

 

Mother

Today I woke up from my nap, and my precious children were nowhere to be found. At first I thought Theodore must have taken him downstairs to give him some milk. But when I went downstairs to say good morning, they had disappeared. Theodore knows they’re not allowed out of the boarding house. He’d never disobey Mother like that! No, not my Theo-pie. They must be hiding, some silly little game. Such good children they are. How they love their mother. 

 

Theodore

I made it to the kettle pond, Samuel safe in my arms. I look at my son for the very last time and see my piercing green eyes shine right back at me.