Rebel Magazine

Spotlight - You Can't Break Her by TSTurcotte

First chapter

AGE 2

April 1992
Jessica's house
Bayhollow, Ontario

Dust floated in the air as the sun's light pierced through the slim gaps of the window blinds. Its beams illuminated every suspended particle that hesitated to fall. A carton of smokes laid on the kitchen table, half full beer bottles and crushed beer cans lay next to it. The stench of cigarettes long gone, lingered on everything. It was just another day. And this was all I knew.

In the early morning hours, I'd awaken before my mother. Looking around for my mermaid doll, I found it in my toy box, where I'd left it the night before. I flopped on the flooring the kitchen, my small hand made several strokes trying to force the doll's hideous red synthetic hair to lay down, but it kept springing back up.

The doll had a button on its stomach, it played a beautiful mermaid song when pressed. I pushed down with all my might, but not a sound. Frowning, I pressed again. Still, nothing happened. But I loved it. Although I could not get that button to work, that never stopped me from trying.

During dolly's breakfast, I pretended to eat by smacking my lips together. Looking at my doll, I shifted her head to one side, then to the other. Her big green-blue eyes stared back. I gripped dolly by the legs and slapped her head against the hardwood floor. Bang, bang, bang. I repeated.

"AMARIS! Stop making all that noise!" My mother was lazed back in a recliner in the living room, she'd slept there all night. "Mommy has a headache. Can't you ever just be quiet?" Her voice rose with each word, the back of her hand rested on her forehead, her palm faced up. "I need peace and quie—" The obnoxious ringing of our home phone interrupted her antics.

The shrill sound traveled throughout the room. Backing up to the counter, I hugged my doll and winced; loud noises had never been something I enjoyed.

Jess, short for Jessica, my mother; rolled her eyes and jumped out of her chair. It took her four big steps to reach the phone. "Hello." Jess listened as she pressed her back against the wall next to the phone.

"Yeah, that's okay. Come on over. We're home all day," she said to whoever she was speaking to and then briefly paused before continuing. "Yep, just Ama and me."

Now that my mother was up and awake, I could return to playing. Leaving the kitchen, I tried to run past her, but she knelt down and pulled me in for a hug. "Help mommy clean up, Auntie Thea is coming to visit." After hanging up the phone, she released me and paced the apartment picking up odds and ends. Following her lead, I ambled over and tossed every teddy bear I found along with blocks in my wooden toy bin.

We cleared the room of scattered toys, and Jess put on a pot of coffee and went to the table. The moment she sat, she took a cigarette from a pack. Where's that lighter? Glancing over the table, it was nowhere in sight. The doorbell buzzed, and she was up again, sliding her heavy feet towards the doorway to open it for her sister.

"Hey, it's so nice to see you," Thea greeted with a smile and wide open arms that pulled Jess into her bear hug. Seeing my aunt was always a special occasion. I patiently held back my squeals of excitement while waiting for her to release my mother.

The exhilaration from her arrival and the rare hit of fresh air was nearly an overload for my brain. As soon as she looked at me, I sprinted to her as fast as I could. Thea scooped me up into her arms and gave me the warmest hug. "How's my big girl?"

Jess returned to the table to search for a light. "Do you want a smoke, Thea?" She picked up the carton of cigarettes and held them high. "I just bought a carton." The cigarette between her fingers flapped around loosely.

Thea shook her head and turned back to me.

Jess dropped the carton on the table. "Suit yourself."

A gloomy darkness loomed in the room. Only a single line of light spanned the kitchen, casting a damper on the yellow walls and black and white stone countertops.

Thea joined Jess at the kitchen table. She put me down and watched as I went for my mermaid. "How's Ama doing?"

"Where's that lighter?" Jess' frustration grew as she searched, lifted, pushed and tossed aside old newspapers and junk mail, but to no avail. She shook her head and conceded. "She's fine," she finally answered with tension in her voice. "You can see her, can't you? She's hyper as hell, and she drives me crazy. That's how she's doing."

Thea took in a deep breath and stared at Jess' dangling cigarette. Looking at Amaris, she knew something was terribly wrong. 2-year-olds are only so clumsy. She took in another deep breath and exhaled. "How have you been, Jess?"

My mother began shuffling through the messy table top again. She raked through the multiple ashes filled ashtrays, causing a few to click together and inch their way closer to the edge. The cigarette was still lodged between her fingers bouncing and bobbing with every anxious hand movement.

"I'm fine. Ama is fine. We are all good here. Why are you being so nosey?" My mother's ability to overreact was rivaled by none. "Money has been tight, but it's nothing I can't handle." Every word that came from Jess' mouth was questionable, it was known that she was a born compulsive liar.

Thea closed her eyes and nodded. It was tormentingly obvious that nothing was fine. "I was just asking. You don't have to explain yourself to me."

I sat quietly, playing with the plastic yellow duck I'd gotten out of the play bin. Looking up at Thea, I wondered if she wanted to play with it too. Thea looked at me, I was now leaning against her leg handing her the duck. She leaned over and plucked it from my fingers. "Next time I come over, I'll bring some farm animal toys. How does that sound?"

I could sense my mother's leg rapidly bouncing behind me. I turned to her and saw her put the unlit cigarette in her mouth.

Now, I was not your average two-year-old. All children do things at different times and I had to learn to express myself much better at a younger age or else I paid for my stupidity. If not stupidity, I was blamed for everything that went wrong. My mother's anxious mood and aggravated tone frightened me. I wondered if I could help ease her mind. I left Thea's leg and went into the living room.

"Is mom still mad at me about our last chat? You know she could stand to take a little blame herself. She's not perfect either," Jess complained.

I went back to the kitchen. Jess was still shaking her leg, but more rapidly. I walked over to her and reached out, trying to buy myself out of unknown trouble. "For you mom." Her leg came to a halt. A look of rage covered her face. My gesture had not paid for my non-existing crime.

She snatched the box from my hand. "How many times have I told you not to play with matches?" As if she was in a hurry, she opened the box, took out a match, struck it and snatched up my arm. "Maybe you'll hear me this time." Her hand easily surrounded my tiny wrist. I was powerless to resist the flames of the match that drew closer to the back of my hand and the fire connected with my skin. Squealing screams told of the pain I felt as the blazing match burned through layers of my flesh.

Thea sat mortified.

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