I have begun a short story that I wanted to share with all of you. It is my story, told though the perspective of a child. It is a story about good people, living their faith and how it profoundly changed my life. I will be posting it in installments. Let me know what you think.
WITNESS
By: Prayer Warrior
Blue…blue was the color of the sky.
The wide open expanse of the searing blue sky was often framed by the
cool, deep green of ‘Las Palmas Real’-the palm trees indigenous to Cuba. Island breezes swept through the houses’ open
windows and most residents of our small town were smart enough to stay out of
the noon day sun. And yet in this
idyllic setting there was an undercurrent of unease; a malaise that could be
felt by the very old and the very young.
Those in the middle years of life were just as affected by the sickly
current of uneasiness, but often were too busy just trying to attend to their
many responsibilities which included taking care of the very old and young to dwell
on the feeling.
In my home, the very air carried a current of anxiety. Papi had stormed off in a whirlwind of anger…and
fear. Mami was still as a statue, eyes
full of tears, her lips murmuring a constant prayer. Yeye, my older sister sat quietly, her eyes
restlessly moving from our mother’s face to the front door that still seemed to
vibrate by the vicious, angry slam from our father’s hurried exit. I knew enough to keep still. I tended to talk…all the time. My happy chatter was constant and I often
followed my family around the house, chattering away. My brother Mel and Yeye were the most
impatient with me. But Tata and Emi were
my special loves.
Tata was my everything. She fed
me, bathed me, played with me, took me everywhere with her and let me know that
I was her everything too. After Tata
came Emi in my affection. Kind eyes that
matched his beautiful heart were often turned towards me. He too made time to speak with me and when
none of his friends were looking, he played with me. Yeye barely tolerated me. I had taken her place as the baby of the
family and she wasn’t to forgive me this trespass any time soon. Mel had a head full of lofty thoughts and he
didn’t have much time for a bothersome baby sister.
But now Tata, Emi and Mel had been gone a long time. I knew that all the fear and anxiety that was
palpable in the air had to do with them.
The silence in our house, like their absence was like a dark menacing
presence, that looms just outside of one's vision. The feeling was one of danger; of impending
doom. I couldn’t have articulated the
feelings then, but I could feel them all the same.
I curled up on the sofa to wait.
All was in stillness. All was in
quiet anticipation. I must have fallen
asleep, because the next thing I knew, they were all there in the room with me,
everyone speaking at once. My brothers
and sister looked harried, disheveled, dirty and hollow-eyed with fear. Tata spoke angrily, echoed by the boys. My father bellowed and howled until I thought
the room was shaking from all the expressed emotions swirling in the room. My mother was quietly assessing my
siblings. She cleaned scrapes, and exclaimed
over bruises. She took each child in
turn and hugged them tight to her as if trying to absorb all the ugliness. I saw my parents exchange a look so filled
with meaning that even I, now hugging legs all around and chattering away was
momentarily silenced by it.
