Liar, Liar- Mouth on Fire

3. A Truth According to Mark 7:20-23

School. The dreaded place. I had finally arrived.

I get off the bus. Walk down the path, which is clear; everyone was avoiding me. Up the stairs, and to my class room. Sit at my desk- the one at the back, right beside the wall. The seat next to me is empty. Obviously.

All around me groups of friends gathered. Talked. Laughed. Had fun. Me... I had nothing. I had no one.

Well, that wasn’t completely true... there used to be Sammy.

I look out of the high window to my left, and see a different day, a different time...

It was snowing, but sunlight filtered through the clouds. A small girl, dark, shoulder length hair, scrubby knees, and huge brown eyes. She walked with another kid not much older than her. Blond curls sticking out in every direction, muddy clothes (yup, in winter), the clearest green eyes. They were laughing, playing, shouting... doing everything I wasn’t doing right now... everything I wished I could-

The sir enters. We greet him. And the day of torture begins.

*

I usually try to bury myself in my studies, that being the best and only distraction I could come up upon. Our class had the studious kids (the ones in front), the popular kids (at the back), and the class clowns (outside, for disruptive behaviour), the average (seated everywhere), and... the odd cases- me- at the broken desk.

I try to concentrate on the sum, but it’s too hard, out of my reach. It keeps slipping off the page- literally! Instead, my focus turns to the empty desk. It wasn’t empty all throughout. It used to have an occupant- I used to have a neighbour... a friend...

...once upon a time...    

Darkness...

...Coldness...

... Loneliness...

That was all I felt. I watch the world outside, people laughing and shouting in the playground. Laughing, squealing, running around. Having fun. Even the other first years, who’d joined today with me.

And me?-I stay in the dark. Alone.

That is what I am good at. All I've ever known.

Even at home, it’s mostly me only. I've no brothers or sisters. No Nanny, no Grandpa. Even no Daddy. Mummy’s there, though, every day when I go home. I smile at the thought of her.

Just then, a shadow passes over me.

“Strange kid, you- smilin' to yoself in the dark, when you could go ou' there in the sun, smilin' with someone- that make sense?”

I shrink back.

“C’mon, kid. I ain’t gonna eat ya”

The hand grabs me out into the light. Then I see him for the first time. He has blond curls covering every inch of his head. He is tanned, with a sprinkling of freckles across his nose. He's tall- taller than me, but then, I'm small for my age- yet he has a very small-boy face. A mischievous grin spreads across his face.

I remember... he's in my class. He sat at the back of year-two-class this morning, but Sir called him in front and announced his reputation for bad behaviour. Apparently, he had been held back three years. Sir made him an example, said anyone like him would get what he was getting, and he was made to sit beside the Sir the entire day. No doubt that was torture.  

“Yo comin' or what?” he asks again.

I smiled. “Sure”

*

The whole break long, we play tag. It may seem boring, it being just the two of us, but we had fun! When the bell announcing the end of break-time rings, we go back to our class together. We sit together. We work together- or, to be more accurate, let our minds wonder. We dreamed together. Insulted the Sir together. Had fun together.

For the first time, I didn’t feel alone.

Then school finishes. We go our ways, after waving our goodbyes. Only when I got home, ready to tell mummy all about my new buddy, did I realise-

...I didn’t know his name...

*

“Mummy! You won’t believe what happened today!”

I rush into the house full of adrenaline and excitement. Before she can reply, I launch into my story. “I've got a new buddy. He’s really cool, and he’s...”

“Hold on-” she says carefully, “your new friend is a... boy?”

“Yes, he’s tall and fun. He can run really fast, and-”

“A boy?”

“Yes, and he-”

She takes a step forward. My voice dies in my mouth.

“He is a boy?” It isn’t a question- it is a demand to know. I can’t speak. I nod, slowly.

A twitch in her eyebrow. She is wondering how to handle the situation. Then a look of disappointment crosses her face. “Child, you have no idea, do you?”

I was going to sigh in relief that she hadn’t got angry with me, but this question takes me unawares.

“W-what?” I say, unsure.

She shakes her head with pity. Takes me to the dining room.

The table is set. There is soup for lunch. Fish soup. It is hot. And I am hungry.

Mummy pushes the food aside, and sits down to discuss the matter. She taps the seat beside her. She sees me eyeing the food. “Turn your head away, child. Food is a temptation. You have to wait till the time’s right” She pats the seat again. I step forward gingerly, and take the old wooden chair. I sit. I wait.

And then she starts.

“Child, I do not blame you, because I haven’t taught it to you yet. But I thought that surely you would’ve had the sense not to go into this kind of thing at such an early age...”

“What kind of thing?” I ask. It would’ve been a mistake if she was angry, yet this strange new mood, I wasn’t sure. So I try my chances. She doesn’t blow up. She explains.

“See what it says in Mark 7:20-23, it explains everything clearly: ‘That which cometh out of the man, that defiles the man. For from within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness: All these evil things come from within, and defile the man.’ ”

She pauses, and looks at me. Even though she said it was a clear explanation, I didn’t understand many words. “Wh-what’s fornication?” I asked.

“It is evil. But that doesn’t matter. Don’t you get it?” I began to shake my head. She explains...

“Man is evil”

I gasp. “But... ” Mommy glares at me.

I continue anyway. “But wasn’t Daddy a man, too?”

The glare doesn’t get any less intense. A simple answer. “Yes”

“Then... you’re saying... he’s also... e-ev...” I couldn’t say it.

“Yes. He is. Your Daddy is evil”

Her lips pursed. That was the end of the matter. A tear clung to my eyelash. Mummy got up. She left.

“You can’t go!” I call after her. It came out louder and hoarser than I meant to. She turned around sharply. “You can’t,” I said softer, “please...”

She waits on the step. Waits for it.

I choose my words carefully. “What has this got to do with... with my friend?”

She shakes her head in disappointment. “Don’t you realise? One day, he, too, will be a man”