Short Story: Silly Me

By Jill Sylvia Barnard

spilled ice cream illustration
Nina felt powerless to help her mum when it came to her bully of a dad and she was harshly punished when she reacted the only way she knew how. Did her mother have the courage to stand up to him, before it was too late for both of them?

Heat waves danced on the paving and the sound of the cicadas was deafening. It was another unbearably humid day and Nina felt as though she were suffocating. The sun baked down on her tanned skin as she pulled out another eyelash and watched mesmerised as it floated down to join the growing pile. The pain was fleeting, cathartic as she continued to pull each lash out, one by one systematically ridding her right eye of them all. She thought back to the day she’d come home to her mum in bed – a cast on her arm, bandages wrapped around her petite torso like an Egyptian mummy and her eyes black and blue.

“What happened?” Nina had asked.

“I tripped and fell over the hose pipe,” her mum had said. “Silly me, I’m so clumsy.”

Nina looked into her mum’s hazelnut eyes, the betrayal cutting into her like a knife.

“No,” Nina had retorted shakily, “Don’t lie to me. I know that he did this! Dad did!” Nina sobbed and ran outside to her tree house, the sound of her mum’s protests fading as she escaped. “Come back, Nina,” she’d cried out, “Why would you think that?”

Nina knew exactly what had happened that fateful day eight weeks ago. She’d been on her way to school when her friend, Ginny reminded her that it was the Year 5 sports day. Nina had forgotten her PE gear so had dashed back home to fetch it – the last thing she wanted was trouble from the nuns at her staunch Catholic school. She had seen her friends bear the brunt of Sister Elizabeth’s wrath for talking in class before and she had no desire to experience that first-hand. Nina had stopped cold as she approached the laundry room – she could hear her dad yelling and her mum screaming and what sounded like choking. Nina inched forward quietly and instantly regretted peeking through the slightly ajar door as she saw her dad throw her mum violently across the room. Her mum collapsed against the wall like a ragdoll, her long ebony black hair swept across her face – damp from her tears. Her dad stormed over to her and stood over her, his six-foot frame making her look even more diminutive than she was. She put up her hands in self-defence, a desperate look on her face.

“Please, no,” she had whispered as he started kicking her and yelling, “You’re nothing but a filthy whore. I can smell him on you!”

“No, Johnny,” her mum had wheezed in between blows, “I promise you – there is nothing going on!”

Nina had felt like such a coward as she turned around and ran back to school without her gear, leaving her poor defenceless mum to fend for herself. She barely felt the caning that Sister Elizabeth had given her for ‘forgetting’ her PE gear, her mind far away, wondering whether her mum was alive or dead. Her friends were concerned but Nina had put her sad mood down to the fact that she had never been caned before and they’d bought it. She was so relieved to find no ambulances or police cars outside her house when she returned home that afternoon. Her mum’s old Datsun was parked in the carport, seemingly unmoved since that morning and Nina could see Beauty, their cleaner polishing the dining room table through the panoramic window at the bottom of their precariously steep driveway.

Nina had always thought it was odd to have a car port off your dining room – on display for anyone who was able-bodied enough to navigate the incline of their driveway, particularly if the paving was wet. Beauty waved and smiled at Nina through the glass. Nina waved back feebly and walked around the side entrance of the house – she crept into her room, closed the door, and buried her head in the pillow and sobbed until there were no more tears left. She’d skipped dinner that night under the pretext of being ill and had dragged herself out of bed and back to school the next day – better than being at home with her mum who was still firmly in denial of Nina’s dad’s wrath.

Satisfied that she had completely rid her right eye her long dark eyelashes, Nina got to work on the left, reflecting on the events that had followed that awful day. First the flowers had arrived en masse, then the ridiculously large diamond ring, followed by a brand-new Renault Sport wrapped in a huge red bow. Her mum had resisted the gifts at first, but Nina had seen her slowly starting to give in as her dad continued to shower her with extravagant offerings, and to profess his undying love to her.

“I love you so much that you make me crazy,” he had said, “you’re the spitting image of Elizabeth Taylor, no wonder I’m so jealous. I’d just die if I lost you to another man!”

He was pathetic in Nina’s eyes. If anyone was unfaithful it was him – Nina had seen how the neighbour’s wife flirted with her dad when her mum was busy being the perfect hostess at the numerous dinner parties that they held. He was a good-looking man – tall and well-built, with blond wavy hair and piercing blue eyes. Too bad he was so ugly on the inside. That was something outsiders would never have guessed – he was very charismatic and a successful business owner, a real upstanding citizen in their tight-knit community as far as they knew.

The car had been the final ice-breaker – her mum’s old reliable yellow Datsun traded for a sparkling white Renault Sport complete with Italian racing stripes down the side. Nina’s dad had really gone to town on the delivery – he’d got down on one knee, his blue eyes looking intently into her mum’s as he’d held up the keys to the car with one hand, a bottle of ice-cold bubbles hidden behind his back in the other hand.

“A beautiful chariot for my beautiful bride,” he’d said as he handed her the keys and the bubbles. Nina had wanted to vomit as she watched her mum jump into her dad’s arms and squeal with delight.

“Thank you, Johnny, I love it,” she had whimpered. “Let’s all go for a spin,” she had beamed at Nina, “we’ll take you for an ice cream at the beach.”

“I wish you’d stop your sulking, Nina,” her dad had remarked as they drove toward the seaside. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately!”

Nina didn’t dare refuse the ice cream – her dad already had that look in his eye and she didn’t want to antagonise him further. She forced a smile and went along with the charade that they were one big happy family as they walked along the promenade, the sea breeze a welcome relief from the hot summer weather. She couldn’t wait to get home to escape to her room where she once again sobbed in her pillow, her parents completely oblivious to the overwhelming sadness that was enveloping their little girl.

“Oh my goodness,” Nina’s mum’s shrill voice snapped her back to the present, “what have you done to yourself, Nina? Your beautiful, long eyelashes are all gone. You look like a freak! Why, Nina, why? Your dad’s going to be so mad at you!”

He was – he beat Nina so badly that she could barely walk or sit. She’d stared out that vast dining room window at his hideously flashy gold Jaguar as he lashed her bare bottom with his belt buckle until it bled.

“I hope they never grow back,” he’d yelled, “and that you stay this ugly forever. That will teach you! What possessed you to do something so stupid?”

Her mum had watched on, emotionless, throughout the lashing. Her dad snarled, “Get out of my sight!” when he was finally done with the lashing and Nina’s mum took her through to a freshly drawn bubble bath.

“I hate him,” Nina had sobbed. “Why do you let him do this to us?”

“It will all be okay, Nina,” mum had said soothingly as she washed Nina’s back, “I promise. Try to enjoy your bath. I’m going to go fix dad a drink.”

Nina lay under the water for what felt like ages as she wondered whether it was possible to drown herself. She watcher her long blonde curls floating up towards the top of the bath and held her breath, determined to stay submerged and never come back up. It was so peaceful underwater. She choked and gasped as she came up for air, annoyed that her experiment had failed. As she was about to go under again, she heard an almighty crash, followed by her mum screaming.

“Oh no, not again,” she thought as she scampered out of the bath, grabbed a towel and dashed through to the dining room, water dripping all down the passage as she ran. Nina was shocked by the scene that greeted her.

Her dad’s Jaguar was firmly planted on the dining room table and her mum’s brand-new Renault was teetering on the windowsill and firmly lodged into the back of the Jaguar. There was glass everywhere as the large window had completely shattered on impact. “Where’s dad?” asked Nina. Her mum pointed to the Jaguar and said shakily, “He was in his usual chair by the window. I was in the kitchen getting him another drink when I heard the bang.”

It took the fire department hours to winch the vehicles out of the dining room and up the steep, narrow driveway. They were eventually able to retrieve her dad’s lifeless body from beneath the wreckage and arrived at the conclusion that he died instantly, killed on impact. The police questioned Nina’s mum and were satisfied with her explanation of the unfortunate events that had led to this tragic accident. She had gone to the shop to buy more gin and could have sworn she’d put the car into Park when she’d stopped at the top of the driveway. She hadn’t bothered parking at the bottom because they were going out for dinner later that night and the driveway was such a pain to reverse up! The police feared she would never forgive herself for that moment of absent-mindedness; she had clearly loved her husband so much and was absolutely devastated by his untimely death.

The life insurance cheque arrived a few weeks later. Mum gave Beauty a very generous retrenchment package and thanked her for her years of service. She packed the last of their belongings into their new Jeep and smiled at Nina as she said, “Right, Nina – it’s time to move to a new city, away from the memories of this place. It will be a fresh start.”

Nina smiled as they reversed up that treacherous driveway for the very last time. She couldn’t bear to look back at that house and vowed never to return to that forsaken place again. There was a welcome chill in the air and the autumn leaves had formed a golden carpet on the road, and they seemed to dance around the car’s wheels as Nina’s mum drove down the road. Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive came on the radio and Nina looked over at her mum and smiled, the first real smile she’d smiled in a really long time. Her mum smiled back, a twinkle in her eye that Nina had never seen before. Everything really was going to be okay.

 

About the Author

Jill Sylvia Barnard lives in Mount Maunganui with her husband. She enjoys spending time with him, her two girls, son-in-law and two grandsons. She is finance director for an early childhood education provider. Her hobbies are stand-up paddleboarding, yoga, walks on the beach, crosswords and ocean swims.

 

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