THE GARDEN OF REMEMBRANCE
A. McIntyre
The clock struck six. News, screamed my aunt. The BBC pounding through the house. I stood in the doorway, watching the swallows flitting about the eves. Butterflies shimmering through the roses like cellophane, I had never seen so many. I tried to light the cigarette again. I held my arm with the other hand but it was no good. Weeping, I marched to the lobby. The cat stared unblinking as I removed the Pepsi. Giving it the finger, I guzzled the liquid, then I filled the tankard. Your mother’s in the garden, my aunt yelled, I don’t want to be disturbed, I’ve got a lot to do for supper so why don’t you keep her company.
Putting on sunglasses, I wandered outside. I placed the Pepsi on the grass, pulling a chair over. My mother was sitting in a deck chair nursing a Scotch, Ah, there you are. I won’t offer you any, of course. You’re drinking cola again, it’s so good to see. Charlotte must be relieved. Sit down and let’s have a nice chat, it’s so nice to have some time at last. The light crackling, I grimaced, my mouth too dry to speak. She stared, Why are you shivering? It’s nothing, I replied. Blessing the Russians, I gulped the Pepsi. Clearing her throat, she commenced, Did I tell you about my trip to South Africa? No, I murmured, You didn’t. I drank more Pepsi. The shaking diminished. I lit the cigarette. By the way, you really ought to stop smoking, she sniped. It’s really none of your business, I countered. Her jaw tightened, Well, I met some very interesting people in Cape Town, very pleasant. They had a yacht, quite remarkable really, they sailed it from New York. Good Lord, I interjected without interest, Really? Yes, she continued, I met them one evening, we all went out to dinner, in the waterfront you know, where we had dinner with your father that time, before his decline. She sipped demurely, Well it’s all changed, must be more than thirty years now, all done quite beautifully, lots of restaurants and cafes, spotless, impossible here of course. You should move, I suggested, Live there during the winter, it would do you the world of good, then you wouldn’t complain about the cold and everything else. Why don’t you go, why don’t you go for a long trip? I’ve thought about it, she agreed, As you know, but there are so many practicalities, and your aunt isn’t getting any younger.
I leaned round watching my aunt vigorously washing some lettuce, her stern gaze focused on the sink. Anyway, what was I saying? She sipped the Scotch. Yachts, I prompted, People from New York. Oh yes, well, the wife was very attractive, late twenties, the husband in his fifties, I assumed it was a second marriage or even a third. Maybe a fourth, I mumbled, Or a fifth. My mother frowned, Well, she was wearing a headscarf, very nice, and I commented on it, it was really lovely, I think it was Balinese, I thought of you because you’d been to Bali, she was so attractive. Really? I said not understanding why this obscure meeting should deserve such detail. I finished the tankard. Well, she wore it everywhere, and do you know why? No, I said. My mother took a large sip, She had just had a brain tumor removed. It was her last trip. She had about two months to live. She’s dead now. They spread her ashes at sea.
I leaned back in the chair, staring at the sky. I wonder why you have to talk about something like that at this precise moment, I enunciated, Like discussing cadavers at a picnic. My mother glowered, I thought you’d be interested. My hands shaking, I inhaled smoke, fighting to keep my voice steady, Well, I find it very odd that you have to raise the specter of something so awful at this precise time. You know how things have been, with Charlotte’s health, it’s really very cruel, very insensitive, it’s almost as if you’re doing it deliberately. I’m having a perfectly good time, she trilled, Aren’t you? I remained silent. The sunlight shining rancid butter orange through the trees.
I refilled the tankard, Anyway, let’s change the subject, I didn’t tell you, Charlotte and I have decided to start a family, we both agreed it might be a solution, something to aim for. Just in case. Life must go on, don’t you think? It hasn’t been easy for her as you know. My mother drained the Scotch, tossing the ice into a flowerbed. You’ll regret it, she said standing up, It’s never over, they’re with you for life.
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