When I turned six years old, it'd also marked two years since my father had left my mother, my three elder sisters and me behind. Mum was still mourning his absence, whereas my memories about him had faded. Mostly. Except for one.
Raising three children on your own seemed tough to me, and I knew mum had always felt the same way. For months she had tried to give us the attention and love we needed, but at some point her heart bursted- and not in the good way. She needed to empty the remaining parts of what was left of her heart at that moment, needed to try and give everything place in all of the loose and broken pieces of her heart.
On one morning, she read the ad in a newspaper. A coffee group in the morning. Strongly, she had felt the need to go there. Since I had been six around that time, being a full time stay at home kid because I would start school after summer holidays, she had no choice but bring me along. The group mostly consisted out of women who pulled my cheeks, called me to be a heartbreaker in many years. The comment had always made me feel upset, because although I didn't fully understand what it meant, I knew my mother's had been broken- no, shattered. And I didn't want to do that.
Then there were the men, who had the morning off from work and came for some socialising. I'd never paid much attention to them, except for one in particular. The pastor, with his twenty-eight years old, just finished theology study and five daughters. He was the youngest among the group. Despite all that- he had the knowledge of a man who'd lived two lifetimes and a listening ear bigger than all of the ears that were in that room collected together.
Teddy Wood.
A few days before, on my sixth birthday, my mother had given me a stuffed horse. Filled with grains, smelling like lavender, which could be put in the microwave to fulfill the function as a hotpack that way. No matter how much I ate, I stayed rather skinny, so I was often cold at night. There was no message behind it being a horse, other than that my mother had saved for a birthday present for months and finding out the store had ran out of the other animals the day before my birthday.
It was the day that I brought it with me that I gained someone's attention. Standing in between my mother's legs, I had brought the horse up to her nose several times on purpose, giving me the attention I had, maybe subconsciously, been searching for. While doing so, I had looked over my shoulder, Teddy's direction, quite some times.
At some point he'd asked; 'What do you have there?' Right after, I had stuffed my fingers into my mouth. Sucked them. Pressed my body against my mothers'. "Ahrs." Came out- I'd turned self aware of my attention seeking behaviour.
"I've never heard of a 'ahrs' before.. is it a dog breed, maybe?" He pulled a thinking face- to which I giggled.
"Horse."
He'd smiled at that, lowered down to my height. I wanted to bring it up to his face. "I hope it doesn't smell like horse poop, then."
More giggles. "Flowers."
He sniffed it, closed his eyes and let out a deep, satisfied breath. He'd poked my cheek, I wanted to sit on his lap. He asked my mother- she approved. That's exactly where our bond started to grow. He was a sonless father. I was a fatherless son. I was the son he never had. He was the father I never had. That- and the flower smelling stuffed horse.
However, the flower smelling stuffed horse was also where a certain trait of me started to come up. The bond I had with my sisters was complicated. My eldest sister Neveah had been fourteen when my father left. Maeve had been thirteen and Ava eleven. I'd been four- there was quite the age gap, considering there was also a difference between the genders, we just didn't get along well.
Every day, it was them against me. They were in puberty, I just wanted to play. I was their annoying little brother, excluded every time, but needed when they wanted something from the kitchen or the shop.
Growing up, I was fairly quiet and calm. Sensitive. Kept things to myself. I had my daily 'hyperactive ten minutes' moments like my mother would call it, but after that I'd find a place for myself to recharge. Usually that happened while reading a book. On moments like those, my sisters would look for me on purpose, stealing my books. Poking my sides. Screaming so I couldn't concentrate on the reading. Anything to just annoy me.
Whenever they would steal the book, they would yell that from that moment, it was theirs. It made me cry, scream- it made them laugh. I grew frustrated with them. We fought every single day. It was the same song, over and over again. No, we hadn't made it easier for my mother, considering the situation she was already in.
On some days, my mother would send me to the shop, whispered to me that I could buy something for myself. She, without knowing, fed the trait I'd despised the most up till today. I would buy chocolates, sit on the sidewalk in front of the house and eat everything until it was gone. Go back inside. Give my mother the groceries and remaining of the money and kept the little secret between me and my mother.
The more my mother whispered that to me, the more I wanted to keep it a secret. I didn't want my sisters to take that away from me- it was the only thing I got that they didn't get, seeing they were girls and often got things that couldn't be passed down to me. It'd make me feel special and I would turn jealous when they would get that, too.
When Neveah had friends over, she often asked- more like commanded me to go to the shop to get some snacks and drinks for them. I became her personal assistant, slave. I didn't dare saying no because she had ripped some books before and I didn't want that to happen. My mother had no idea what to do, so she had simply told me that I could buy something for myself again.
However, my mother thought Neveah had gotten money from her, but little did I know that she paid for it herself because she had secretly added Redbull to her grocery list and my mother wasn't supposed to see that. They wouldn't give me the energy drink because I was too young, but I had politely asked for the receipt so I could show my mother I had bought the things fairly.
Before I had to chance to give it to my mother, Neveah had snatched the groceries and receipt out of my hands. Once her eyes had landed onto the chocolates in my hand, she had grown furious. Told my mother I had stolen from her. She had pulled my hair. Thrown me onto the floor. Screamed. Cried.
Clearly, she had needed help around that time. Missed my father. His absence pained her.
My mother had given the chocolates I had picked out to Neveah. She had paid for it after all. Being five years old, I had cried myself to sleep that night. My secret was exposed and she ate my chocolates with her friends. I grew more frustrated.
Desperate, mum crouched down next to my bed that night. Wiped away my tears. Whispered sweet- nothings into my ear. "Zev, sweetheart, it was a miscommunication. Next time you can go with mummy's money and I will give you some more so you can buy a thing or two instead, alright? Does that make up for it?"
Right parenting? Probably not. Did I blame my mother? Never had. She had been in a bad place around that time. What else could she do to keep her children satisfied? Even if it was only on short- term, seeing the food wasn't exactly healthy and more and more money doesn't make anyone happy but only greedier? Selfish?
I had nodded. Turned my back to her. I was upset, hurt. She stroked my hair. "Zev, what do you want for your birthday? I know it's far away, but.. I want to give you something. Mummy can save for it that way."
"Stuffed eliphant." I whispered, sucking on my fingers.
I can still feel her fingers brushing over my cheek. "An elephant, sweetheart. That's alright. Mummy will save for it. Are you happy again?"
I'd hummed. Kissed her lips and slept.
When I woke on my birthday, my sisters were seated onto my bed, my mother holding a present while a tray with breakfast was placed at the edge of my bed. My sisters were fighting, my mother accidentally kicked over the glass of orange juice, then gave me the present and I opened it right after. It was a horse.
I remember wrapping my fingers around its tail, looking up at my mother with questionable eyes. She had tears in her eyes, her hand reached for my cheek. "I'm sorry, Zev.. the elephant was sold out."
"He doesn't even like horses! And I never get anything new!" Ava had ripped the horse out of my hands and I started screaming right after. It was the first present I had gotten brand new- and I didn't want her to take it from me like everything else. "I never get anything new! I always get everything passed down from Neveah and Maeve! It's unfair! I love horses and Zev hates them!"
I screamed at the top of my lungs, the frustration that had settled and grown into my body coming out strongly. I cried, yelled my vocal chords hoarse and sore and pulled with mighty force onto the horse.
My mother had intervened, but she screamed that we had to share. My trait got fed even more, but this time by the frustration. By my sisters. It was like a disease, spreading all over, fogging up your mind, growing your actions hazy and not thought through.
I never shared the horse. I was overprotective. Mean.
Selfish.
That's where my only memory about my father unlocked. His selfishness. He had only cared about himself. About what he desired. What he wanted. What he needed. Never had he glanced at his children. His wife. Not even in need. Others didn't matter- it was only him. He had given the trait to my sisters, and without much notice at first.. to me.
For years I had tried to deny it. Despised my father for being the way he had been. Despised his selfishness. Because it had caused him to leave his own children and wife for another. Caused him to never acknowledge his own children after that. Caused him to satisfy his own needs and abuse the needs of others.
I despised my sisters. For ruining my childhood. Stealing things that belonged to me. Taking away the things that were mine and made me happy. Stealing my secrets. My chocolates. Never sharing their stuff with me. With each other. With my mother.
And then, when I think back of the years I've lived so far, only one thought pops up.
Maybe I had been the most selfish person of them all.
•
A different kind of chapter, hope you liked it either way!
More about Zev's youth.
Opinions on his sisters?
The way his mother treated him?
Meeting Teddy??
Let me know your thoughts. Votes comments shares are so much appreciated!! Much love xx