Light streamed through the upstairs window of a semi-detached house in Windy Arbour. It fell on the face of a boy as he woke up from a sleep of the kind so deep that it is only achievable for the comatose or the very young.
Stephen opened his eyes and everything was ok. He got up, got dressed, and, as he would every Sunday morning, went to wake his Mam up. She’d take him to the park most Sundays, to the library if it were raining, and to the cinema if she had money to spare. It was her only day off work. Recently, there had been times she had said she was too tired to do anything and had stayed in bed all day. But Stephen was hopeful that today wouldn’t be one of those days. He knocked on her bedroom door and when no one answered, he opened it. The room smelled like the inside of a toilet bowl, a mix of pee and poo. A groan came from underneath the mass of covers.
“Get out boy.” the shapeless monster wailed.
Everything stopped being ok as he closed the door. Memories of the previous day came surging back to him. Where was his mam?
The day before, Stephen had lain on a dark green carpet. He had a pile of similarly green action figures before him. He also had a pink Barbie doll in each pocket, but his da didn’t like it when he played with dolls. He’d bought him an expensive action figure and told him to play with that instead. Stephen had named this figure Will, after his da. He came home from school one day last year to find his mam and da in a heated argument - his da squeezing a pink doll in between each fist as they shouted. His mam had brought him to the Smyths the next day, on the condition that he hid them better this time. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the army figure. He just wanted more than one kind of toy. He hadn’t heard his dad around in a while, so tentatively, he brought out one of the Barbie dolls. He set up the army soldiers in a line in front of the doll. She was their leader- like Mam - Mam was in charge at work. The army soldiers were about to be sent out on a dangerous mission; they were to explore the unknown kitchen, get past the dragon (Gerald the dog), and steal the treasure (a twenty-cent coin). Whoever got back alive would get to marry the doll. He’d already decided that the winner would be Will, but he didn’t tell the rest of the soldiers that yet.
The mission went smoothly. Ten soldiers died climbing the kitchen counter, five more drowned in the sink, and seven of the last eight were killed by the dragon (four crushed, two chewed, one slobbered on). Will successfully collected the gold and got airlifted back to the Barbie. They married on top of the fireplace, with a slightly chewed-up action figure as the priest. Stephen couldn’t wait to tell his dad all about it (minus the parts involving the Barbie of course). He ran upstairs and knocked on his parents' bedroom door. No answer. Da must be asleep. He opened the door gently, just to check. The bed was empty, still freshly made from when his mam left to go to work that morning. The room still smelled like lavender - her favourite perfume. “Da?” Stephen called. He ran downstairs to check the kitchen and the sitting room. But there was no sign of anyone. Stephen went back upstairs to check the bathroom. Again, no one. Mam wouldn’t let Da leave him alone. Maybe he had just gone out to the shops? He’d be back soon anyway, no need to worry.
Stephen went back to his toys and tried to think of a new game. A knock came at the front door. Stephens's heart leapt; it must be his Da! Then he remembered that Da had a key. Maybe he’d forgotten it. The doorbell rang, and Gerald started to bark. Stephen stood up to go and answer it. Halfway there, he remembered that his Mam had told him not to open the door for strangers. He knew that he shouldn't open the door, especially while the house was empty. But clearly, his da had just popped out to the shops and forgotten his keys. Stephen was too short to see through the peephole, so he looked through the letter slot. All he saw was a pair of baggy navy-blue jeans. His da owned jeans like that. He pulled down the latch and swung the door open. It was a man with a clipboard.
“Hello there,” the man said. He was wearing a white button-up shirt as well as the jeans. The man's smile was unnaturally wide and made Stephen's head hurt.
“My name is Evan, what’s your name?”
“Ste-” He’d promised his Mam that he’d never give his name out to strangers.
“Nice to meet you Ste. Are your parents around?” His teeth were large and horse-like. “I just need to speak to an adult, please”
“My mams at work, and my da, my da is busy in the back garden.”
“How nice, I never realised these houses had back gardens.”
Evan's teeth no longer reminded Stephen of a horse; now they made him think of the sharks he’d seen on the Discovery Channel.
“Do you think you could go get him for me? Don’t worry; I’ll wait here.”
“He’s busy.”
“I’m afraid this is awfully important, Ste. It is Ste, am I correct? So I’m going to need you to get your father for me.”
Stephen closed the door in the shark-man’s face. He pulled the sitting room curtains and turned off all of the lights. Next, he curled up on the sofa and waited for his da to come back. As the hours ticked away, it started to seem less and less likely that his da would come home. Eventually, he gave up hope. At least his mam would be home from work soon. She wouldn’t leave him.
He started blinking at the clock in the sitting room, willing the seconds to become minutes, and for those minutes to become hours, and for those hours to pass within the closing of his eyelids- then his mam would be standing in front of him, and she’d make him dinner and sing him a song about her day. He sat there blinking furiously at the clock, believing with every flutter of his eyelashes that the next time he opened his eyes, he’d see her.
Hours, minutes or seconds later, gentle hands shook him awake.
“I’m here now dear”
Stephen buried himself in her blouse and wrapped his arms around her. He could forget all about the shark-man. Her scent washed over him- freshly cut grass. It should have smelled nice, but he hated it. This wasn’t his mam. Who was he hugging? He looked up, panicked.
“Whoa, calm down Stephen, it’s Sheila.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m your mam's friend, we only went to the park together a few weeks ago.”
Relief flooded through him. He remembered her now; she had bought him a calippo ice pop and some match attax.
“Where’s mam, is she with you?”
“She is… she’s busy, but she’ll be back as soon as she can”
“When will she be back?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where’s Da then? He was meant to be here.”
“I wish I knew,” She moved to sit closer to him. “But your mam has asked me to take care of you for a little bit, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
She cooked him fish fingers, potato waffles and peas.
“Your Mam told me that this was your favourite.”
Stephen stared at his food.
“She wouldn’t want you to starve”
“When is she coming back?”
“As soon as she can. Now you’re not leaving this table until you’ve eaten at least some of your food.”
Still, he refused to eat. He wasn’t going to let this woman try and replace Mam. And where was Da?
“I have to go to the toilet. when I come back, I want to see some of this food eaten.”
Stephen threw a fish finger to Gerald and poured some peas and potato waffles into the bin.
“Thank god you’ve eaten something, now off to sleep.”
Sheila tucked him into bed that night. He immediately untucked himself once she had left. Stephen’s night light threw waves of colour onto his ceiling. He lay underneath and as he watched the lights, he wondered whether his da would come home. Normally, he found the lights comforting, but tonight they only seemed to remind him of his isolation. Each corner of the room would periodically be lit up, revealing an empty wall, a wardrobe, a patch of carpet, a school sports day trophy, or his tin whistle, or a photo of Stephen and his parents. All were reminders of how alone he was. His mam was the reason he wanted to play music. Every night, he would beg her for a rendition of the Foggy Dew, and Stephen was secretly learning to play it on the tin whistle so that he could play it for her on her birthday. One of the only times his da had ever hugged him was when he had won the Junior Infants running race. Will’s face had lit up, and in that moment, he almost seemed like a proper da. Stephen spent the rest of that day on his shoulders. But now, neither of his parents cared enough to see him. All he had was Sheila, but she could never be his mam.
Stephen heard a pair of keys in the lock of the front door. He crept out of his room and went to the top of the stairs. Peeking over the bannisters, he could make out a large unsteady shape. A stale smell crept up the stairs.
“The fuck have you been?”
“Out.” It was as if he had peanut butter in his mouth.
“Quiet, Stephens is sleeping upstairs,” Sheila said. “He was crying when I got here.”
“So?”
“You’re his dad for Christ's sake.”
You think so? I’ve never been sure.”
“Not this again, Will, not today.”
The pair went into the sitting room and closed the door. Stephen snuck down the staircase and put his ear to the door. He wanted to say something to his da, but Sheila might have been mad if she found out that he wasn’t asleep.
“Some father you are.”
“I only meant to have one drink. ”
Stephen didn’t know how she could be so angry with Da when Mam hadn’t even bothered to come home.
”You blame me don’t you?” Da said.
“And you don’t think I blame myself? Fucking Christ, Will this isn’t about you, and it never has been.”
Stephen could hear his heart beating. It felt like it was in his ear, with how loud it was.
“I blame her.”
“You can’t say that.”
“I’m not a great person and I don’t pretend to be, but I’ve never done something that selfish in my life.”
Stephen wondered who they were talking about. At first, he thought it was his mam, but he had never heard anyone say something negative about her before, so he wasn’t sure.
“I—, look, a part of me hates her for it too. Stephen is too young to be without a mother.”
So they were talking about his mam. They must be angry that she left him.
“I’ll bring him to see her tomorrow - we’ll get the bus in,” Da said.
“Don’t be thick, I’ll drive yous.”
Stephen heard them start to stand up and ran back up to his room. He heard the front door close and heavy footsteps make their way up the stairs. They seemed to stop for a second outside his bedroom. Stephen, his eyes forced shut, listened as the door opened slightly. That same stale smell made its way into the room. He heard a faint curse, and the door closed.
At around ten o'clock, Sheila came and made breakfast. Stephen, only then realising how hungry he was, silently demolished two plates laden with eggs, sausages, rashers, and heavily buttered toast. His da came down an hour later and followed his son's example.
“I don’t get a chance to cook for other people much these days,” Sheila said, patting Stephen on the shoulder.
“You’re a star Sheila, ” muttered Stephens Da.
“We’re going to visit your mam today,” Sheila said.
“Why isn’t she here?”
“Your Mam’s in th-” Stephens da started.
She’s just a bit busy is all,” Sheila said.
“Right, yeah,” his da said.
“You can just say that she doesn’t want to see me.”
“Don’t be talking like that Stephen.” Sheila sad.
Sheila moved to the other room to take a phone call. Stephen could still faintly hear her.
“Right. Have they told you when? Ok, no worries. We’ll be fine - don’t worry about it.”
Stephens da looked at him.
“You were alright yesterday, weren’t you? I didn’t mean to leave you on your own like that.”
“Thanks for coming back.”
“Sheila’s the one to be thanking, she’s been awfully good to us.”
Sheila came back into the room, the phone held up to her ear.
“Stephen, your mam is on the phone.”
Stephen grabbed the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, dear, how are you?
“Where are you?”
“I-I’m just a bit busy at the moment”
“But I’m coming to see you later, right?”
“No. I’m afraid I can’t do today, but soon ok, dear?”
Stephen threw the phone, and minuscule shards of glass exploded across the floor. He didn't understand how she could do this to him; he was used to Will disappointing him, but his mam never did. His sadness had hardened to anger.
“Stephen!” Sheila shouted.
She picked up the phone.
“He’s just a bit emotional, you know how he gets, alright, ye ye ye, see you soon.”
“She doesn’t want to see me, does she?” Stephen said.
“She’ll see you as soon as she can. She loves you very much, you know that, right?”
This time- when he buried his head in her blouse- he found that he didn’t hate the smell so much.
*
Stephen awoke in the middle of the night. He heard his Da and Sheila talking downstairs and fell back asleep easily. Sheila woke him the next morning.
“Your da was very kind to let me stay the night last night, Stephen,” she said as they were going down the stairs. “He slept on the sofa, of course.”
Stephen noticed three things at breakfast that morning: his Da had burned the bejaysus out of the sausages, there were no sheets or pillows on the sofa in the sitting room, and the stale smell that had hung around his da had disappeared. His da seemed brighter than usual, and was clean-shaven for once.
Later, when playing with his toys, Stephen used a different Barbie. His mam- the original Barbie- was busy. He placed the doll on the windowsill. Whichever soldier could fight his way up the sofa and onto the windowsill would marry her. It was a hard-fought battle, and sixteen soldiers lost their lives on their way up the first cushion. Two more fell down a bottomless pit (the side of the sofa), fated to never return. Now, there were just five left, Will included. Stephen hadn’t planned this one out as he had the last, so he wasn’t sure who would survive. The five soldiers trekked through a jungle (two potted plants), and three were lost forever amongst the trees. Faced with strong winds (the fan), the two left were buffeted off a cliff and were surely going to perish. But no, the Barbie had stretched out a hand to pull one to safety. It was Will. Stephen decided it would be ok for Will to marry this new girl; the other Barbie clearly wouldn't care. Once again, a marriage was held atop the mantelpiece, and once again the chewed-up soldier acted as the priest.
Three days later, they went to visit his mam. Stephen hadn’t wanted to go, but Sheila convinced him to.
“She doesn't want to see me.”
“She’s been asking about you every day.”
“Then why hasn’t she come back? She hasn't even let me see her.”
Sheila drove them there, with Stephen's da in the passenger seat and Stephen in the back. They drove up for what seemed like hours and ended up outside a large grey pebble-dashed building. Stephen and his da waited in the car, as Sheila went in. She returned a few minutes later and told them to follow her. They entered through a metal door. The room was just as grey as the building outside.
A woman was sitting at a foldable table, her face gaunt and her hair in a frizzy halo. She was wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt. Stephen barely recognised her as his mother.
“I’ve missed you so much.” She said.
Stephen looked from his mam to Sheila. Sheila seemed to be nodding at him to speak, so he did.
“Hi Mam.”
Sheila and Will left the room.
“How's Gerald.”
“He's grand.”
“Is Sheila taking care of you? Your da has never been much use.”
“She's been great actually.”
“I hope you've been nice to her.”
Stephen’s Mam was surprised to learn that his da had cooked him breakfast that morning.
“When did he start pulling his weight?”
“He’s been different recently.”
“Since I left?”
“Since Sheila came.”
“Oh really? I hope she’s not replacing me!”
She laughed. Stephen didn’t.
“It’s been nice to have someone who actually cares about us.”
“Oh, Stephen, of course I care about you.”
He noticed something white sticking out of his mam's sleeve, but she pulled her t-shirt down before he could ask what it was. She clasped a hand around her wrist.
“Why did you leave then? Did you even want to see me? You didn't even want me to visit you.”
“I’ll always want to see you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Do you promise you won’t leave again?”
“I won’t let you leave my sight from now on. I’ll even follow you into the bathroom. It’ll probably end up being quite annoying, actually.”
“I’m sorry Mam,” he said as he hugged her, and tears came to his eyes.
She still smelled faintly of lavender, which only made him cry even more. She held him tight, her heartbeat against his ear.
Years later, Stephen would learn that she had attempted to commit suicide.
Sheila and Will were waiting for him outside. They were leaning against the car, their shoulders barely touching each other. Stephen went home and sat in the sitting room, his toy wedding still set up on the mantlepiece. He could hear Sheila and Will laughing about something in the kitchen. He ripped the toys down and tore them apart, limb from limb.
