Short Story  

Too late a change of heart

by Jeannette Cabraal

Michael reclined on the easy chair in the verandah in a pensive mood. That nip in the air gave that inexplicable feeling of the season. Within there was the clamour and bustle of the house being spruced up for Christmas.

But his thoughts went to November when he was present at the All Souls Day mass at the cemetery this year, on the insistence of his wife who visited the grave of a close relation of hers who had passed away recently.

The cemetery was one garden of flowers and glowing candles, dispelling the gloom of the lowering clouds. The zeal, the fervour with which people stood at the graves of their beloved ones in worshipful prayer was touching.

So was the sermon preached by the priest about the uselessness of ostentatious funerals after the parents have been neglected and dumped in Elders' Homes to die a pauper's death. That had struck his conscience. Ever since then his thoughts had been of his mother stacked away in a home for the aged so that they would be rid of the burden of caring for her.

His wife Marie walked up to him. "A penny for your thoughts" she quipped. Then he broached the subject that had been nagging him ever since that November morn.

"I was wondering, couldn't we bring my mother home this Christmas? She has been away in that Home for the past three years." A look of displeasure passed over Marie's face but she merely said, "Let's see" and walked away.

Burden

Later she discussed with Michael what a burden she would be during the season. As if they didn't have enough to worry them over the arrangements for Christmas and the functions for the season.

The children's friends would be coming for parties, they'll have so many visitors, mother would be so much in the way. They would have to devote a servant to her.

All the innumerable irritations that would arise. She would walk around the house touching and dirtying the walls. She stopped short and gave in, when she saw that kind of a look on her husband's face. "Oh, alright" she said, "If you really want to, we'll, bring her on Christmas Eve and take her back on the day after Christmas.

It won't do to have her here for the New Year with the 31st night party." He was relieved and gave in. After all it was a great thing that she had agreed even to this extent.

Aii was ready on Christmas Eve. The house had taken on a glamorous look, Crisp curtains fluttering in the breeze, a beautifully decorated and illuminated Christmas Tree, a crib in a corner, carols playing in the background, the aroma of a gourmand feast.

The mother's room had been arranged close to the servants' quarters where they could always have an eye on her. Michael and Marie were ready at last to welcome the mother. They drove over to the Home, the road to which was rather unfamiliar now. They turned into the drive. The run in charge was walking around accompanying a feeble old woman. From within came the strains of "Do they know it's Christmas time at all." The nun stopped in her tracks as they approached and inquired about their mother, expressing a wish to take her home for the season. The nun's face was overcast. It took on a grim expression. "You promised your mother when you dumped her here that you would come back the next day but you vanished without leaving a trace. Every single day she would run to the gate expecting you saying "My son is coming! My son is coming!"

She became demented with the obsession. It was pathetic! She died a couple of months ago.