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Raw Liver

Susie Gharib

    Her mother entrusted her to the care of a childless, maternal aunt and joined her husband, a navy officer, on a very long tour around the world. Collette, an eleven-year-old, desecrated the image of innocence that many attribute to childhood and strove to tarnish mine in every way she could. A lie was sweeter than the tarts she stole from her aunt’s cupboard. She smoked every cigarette she lay her hands on and boasted about distinguishing between the flavors of various types. Her sexual knowledge far exceeded that of her age. She eavesdropped and knew all sorts of family secrets and to my consternation exposed each to me with triumphant glee. Everything she did and said unsettled me, but she was my only playmate. She fantasized about every handsome boy at school and the list grew very, very long.
    She narrated to me her hardships at her new abode, how her aunt coerced her to eat raw liver to fortify her health. As an act of revenge, Collette miraculously found a way to the attic, which hid all sorts of niceties, and consumed large amounts of forbidden but ill-hidden food. Her palm had an inordinate lust for coins, and with the look she wore in the presence of generous relatives, she managed to rid them of the jingling of their pockets, since her aunt, though married to a wealthy man, was frugal in her habits and believed money to be a dangerous weapon in the hands of a child. The only present she bought her niece during her stay was a gold ring for her birthday, which was retrieved within sixty minutes of its purchase. It was too big for Collette’s finger, who was encouraged to wear it while removing the heads of ladies’ fingers with a tiny knife, the next day’s meal. It slipped while she was too busy with the task, elated as she was at the possession of a ring that did not slumber with her one single night. She was made to search for it for hours, even to rummage through the bin, but then the aunt suddenly remembered that she threw the heads of ladies’ fingers from the balcony, and Collette was not allowed to inspect the street, which she was certain did not receive the birthday gift. She told me that her aunt deliberately bought a bigger size so that it would slip and be reclaimed in no time. She never cried over the withdrawn present. She only intensified her raids on the attic, regaling her palate with the most amazing types of sweets. When I remarked that she would be severely punished if her aunt discovered the thefts, she assured me that her mother would be back before such an event, and she would tell her about the raw liver she was forced to eat.
    We were only separated when my father got a post abroad, but I heard in later years that she fulfilled all her dreams. She married a wealthy man with a coterie, played the hostess to the elite, established her own business which brought her profit. I only saw her a month before she died. We were on holiday, so I called on her mother to hear her news and to my surprise, she was there due to a serious illness. She was the same warrior I had known her to be, only emaciated by battling with death for almost two years. I was taken aback when the conversation veered to the past and the subject of the raw liver she had to eat when she stayed with her aunt. That was the first time the mother heard of the fact, ill-prepared and shattered as she was.

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