More than Mary

Six

“I can't give you any permission.”

  “But ma'am...”

  “Listen, I don't have money to waste on a therapist!”

  “I...”

  “Forget it. I'm not hiring any!”

  “I’m being trained, so eh I can do it.”

  “I won't waste money on your training either.”

  “It’s free.”

  “Free?” Madam Ann's brow raised.

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “I’m still not giving you my permission to let my daughter undergo some sort of therapy.”

  “It will diminish the symptoms...”

  “You think I don't know?” Madam Ann's temper flared. “You think I'm uneducated like you are?”

  “I’m just eh...”

"Forget it. Why should I care about a therapy that won't cure her but give meaningless hopes? Which of the symptoms will it diminish? Is it her inability to think, to speak, or to even recognize me as her mother!" Madam Ann ran her fingers through her hair, fighting back the burning tears pricking at the back of her eyes. She dared not cry in front of this unprofessional caregiver. No, she wouldn't cry. She would do it later, in her room as usual when her door was locked and when all eyes were shut. At this hour, when hers was always open, she hated God, her husband, her children, and even this dang house! One of these days, when everyone in this godforsaken house had gone to sleep, the intrusive thoughts would suffocate her and send her into oblivion. The intrusive thoughts were forceful, grappling with her and overwhelming her vulnerable mind.

"The therapy on its own might not cure her, but Jesus can use that medium to heal her," Mary dared to speak. With that, Fay walked in with a glass of water, but not even Mary noticed her presence.

"Nonsense!" Madam Ann flared up. "What do you know about life? How old are you? What have you seen to lecture me?" Mary's words had added fuel to the unquenchable fire. Mary shifted her gaze to Cheta, slouched on the sofa. His button-down shirt was left undone, completely out of place. Was he sleeping? Was he ignoring them? Was he oblivious? "You remind me of that Zuru therapist. What's her name again? Silan...Silan..."

"Silanzene," Fay helped her. Finally, she was noticed. Madam Ann's almost trembling hand grabbed the glass and gulped down its contents. Her eyes wished for more, to quench the flames within her. Little did she know that all she needed was the Living Water.

"I never liked that lady," Madam Ann continued.

"She's..." Mary tried to defend her, but Fay quickly feigned a cough, signaling for her to shut up, before excusing herself.

"This is the last time we'll be talking about this," Madam Ann hissed, rising from her seat. She turned to walk away, her back facing Mary and the slouched Cheta. To everyone's surprise, Cheta's croaky voice stopped her.

"I don't know how to convince you because I can't convince myself either. It won't be a bad idea if we try the therapy once again." A tiny smile fleetingly crossed Mary's face, mixed with the tiniest bit of respect for Cheta. Madam Ann didn't turn to face her son, but a tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it off, said nothing. However, in her eyes, there was a hint of reconsideration. She ascended the stairs, and Mary heaved a sigh of relief. There was hope in her eyes.

  A wave of light-hearted laughter filled the room as Mary sorted out her clothes and tossed them into the washer, while Kachi folded Nadine's garments into the laundry basket.