Marcie and Mamma

Marcie and Mamma

It was the smell that woke her up; the stench of ammonia and vitamins that assaulted her nose like it was mad at her. And perhaps it was. When Marcie gained full awareness she was surprised at how white and clean Hell looked. After a moment Marcie found there was a certain irony to it.

“Of course Hell would be a hospital.” Her laugh was rusty and sounded unused. Next to her was some grey mush that was either meant to be eaten or seal cracks in the ceiling. “Yep this is hell.”

It was then that Mamma decided to enter, followed by Papa and Lucy. 

“Definitely hell.”

Mamma can’t just walk in; she has to make an entrance. It’s said she was born like that. Instead of getting delivered and crying like a normal infant, she crashed into the world silent: I’m here, deal with it.

Papa is roughly the same age as Mamma, minus a few hours. Its likely Papa was born  in order to restore balance to the universe. He, for as long as Marcie could remember, looked as if a pile of old sticks suddenly decided to get up and walk around.

Mama on the other hand was round, angry and a constant blur.

Their neighbor Debbie Hensfeild, known universally as “The Hen” due to her hooked beak, once stated that a woman as large as Mama shouldn’t be able to move like she did- something about physics.

Mama told her that Debbie has a very small world that includes her house and everything she can see through her window.

When Mama talks like that Marcie nods her head and pretends to listen. If she really agreed with everything Mamma said, she imagined she would hate every person on this earth except Mama.

Debbie also couldn’t understand why Papa didn’t have more broken bones. Surely he was never allowed on top. Marcie, being eight at the time laughed at the image of her parents making a human pyramid. She suggested that more people should join them because, of course, two people weren’t enough. And Mrs. Hensfield would certainly be welcome. It was then that she had the treat of seeing The Hen struck silent with horror. Unfortunately it was the first and last time that miracle happened.

“Why do you do this to me?”  Mama’s first words would be about what Marcie had done to her. No words of love or caring; just indignant anger. It was expected. But did she really have to act so hurt?  Of course it was known throughout the town that Mama took some perverse pleasure in blaming people; especially men; specifically Papa.

The Great Revelation of 2001 was that all wars, since the beginning of time, were indeed Papa’s fault. Papa would stand silent during these rampages in all his stick like glory. Occasionally he would attempt an “I’m sorry.”

It was decided early on in Marcie's family that this was the safest response and so they all stuck with it.

“Sorry Mama.” Maybe if she pressed the red button a team of nurses would rush in and tell her family that they were bad for her health. That would be nice. She eyed Lucy suspiciously as the girl began to edge towards the IV drip.

Lucy was thirteen and six years her junior. Marcie affectionately referred to her as “The Do-Over Child.” It was a nick-name that earned her a lecture whenever spoken. Lucy, a precocious little thing, always responded with that same tight lipped smirk. The girl deserved to be slapped up-side the head.

“Gross. This can hardly be called food.” Lucy was now poking her gray cafeteria stuff with a fork. Hopefully the food would get annoyed and retaliate, but Marcie didn’t think it likely. And who uses the word “hardly” anymore? Not thirteen year old's, that’s for damn sure.

Mama never one to be ignored was slowly turning purple. Marcie decided not to ask if the color should be called plum or mulberry. God, she would kill for some good food.

“Don’t ignore me young lady? How could you do this to yourself?” Guess the doctor told them it wasn’t an accident. “Are you an idiot or do you just want the attention? Do you know what these last few days have been like while you were out? It’s been hell, that’s what it’s been like. I’ve had to deal with incompetent doctors and uppity nurses. You’re lucky I came to see you at all! What did you think you were doing?”

I was thinking I wanted to die.

“I’m sorry Mama. It won’t happen again.” The pattern on the ceiling was becoming more and more fascinating. Was that a banana?

“You damn right it won’t happen again. When you get out of here you’re coming home. My eyes are gonna be on you like a tattoo Marcie. I just can’t believe you would do this to me.” Mamma walked closer to the bed to make eye contact. Her wispy short hair looked as if it was caught in an electrical storm. Her small eyes held a deep anger and behind that fear. Mama had been afraid for her. The realization froze Marcie in place. Fear was an emotion not acknowledged in the Spencer house-hold.

“Okay Mama.” Marcie tried to sound timid and compliant. The concession seemed to deflate her. Mama breathed out a long sigh and seemed very much like a tired woman at the end of her rope.

“Well alright then. We’ll let you get some rest. You look awful.” And with that pleasantry, Mama exited stage left.

Papa stepped forward and patted her hand awkwardly. “I’m glad you’re okay Marcie-bear.” Papa gave her a small smile and followed his wife out the door. The only person left was Lucy who was staring at her with a frown.

“Why did you really do it Marcie?”

It was an empty question. Her sister knew why. In fact Lucy was the one and only person she had told her secret. It was probably selfish of her, but Marcie somehow knew Lucy could handle it.

“Come here squirt.” When Lucy reached her side Marcie took her face in her hands. “I want you to know that I love you no matter how annoying you are. Just remember that, whatever happens. Kay?”

Lucy nodded solemnly, knocking a tear free to run down the sides of her cheek.

“Is it really all that painful?” She looked like she really wanted to know and so Marcie was honest with her.

“It really is.”

Lucy took that in and nodded her head.She closed the door on her way out cutting off Mamma’s complaints on the color of the hospital’s hallways.

Marcie spent the next hour watching dust motes play tag in a shaft of sunlight that broke free of the curtains. Sometimes the shapes and shadows in the rays of light reminded her of Mamma and herself running in circles. One of these days Marcie believed she’d just drop from exhaustion. Funny, she smirked, maybe that’s what’s already happened.



Time in the hospital was a fresh breath after living in the Spencer household with Mamma. So of course, Mamma had to visit every day. She hated the two hours Mamma took.  They were full of guilt, complaints, and apologies. Of course Marcie was the one who felt guilty and apologized. Mamma was the one who complained.

One day she woke up to Mamma’s voice screaming down the hall.

“How dare you mop this floor when visitors are walking though here!”

“But one of our patients made a mess out here. We had to clean it up, Mrs. Spencer.” The panicked voice of one of the nursing staff answered her. Marcie felt slightly sorry for whoever it was, but only slightly.

“Did you know I almost slipped walking through here!? I could have broken my hip or my neck  and died or worse!” What was worse than dying, Marcie didn’t know, but no one was brave enough to point that out to Mamma.

Another voice answered her. “Ma’am, the floor has signs all around cautioning everyone that it’s wet.”

Mamma barreled right on as if no one had spoken. “I should sue just on principle.”

How does one sue on principle, Marcie wondered. She didn’t know and took a sip from the glass next to her.

Mama continued, “But since I’m a forgiving person,” Marcie nearly choked on her water, “I’m willing to overlook this if you can get your act together.”

The same voice answered her.  “Yes, ma’am, we are sorry for causing you any stress.”

Marcie decided then and there that if Mamma ever died and wasn’t accepted into heaven, she’d still get in through sheer determination. God must have been scared when he created her and realized what he’d done.

After a week of visits from Mamma, Marcie knew what to expect. Yet on her second week Marcie woke up to Mamma’s face looming above her bed. Normally, it would be an invasion of space and Marcie would have to count to ten in order to not shout at the woman. But this time, something was wrong with Mamma’s face. It took Marcie a while to figure it out and when she did she wasn’t sure if she should be scared or relieved. Mamma had been crying. It was her eyes that gave it away. They were wet and bloodshot, and there something terribly vulnerable there. Something that was open, and touchable. But as soon as Mamma realized Marcie was awake, the look flashed away. All that was left was pure Mamma- slightly angry with a proud tilt to her chin.

“What are you looking at? You’re supposed to be asleep. Were you watching mamma. You know how rude that is.” It seemed Mamma was trying to get angry and could only barely get there.

Marcie decided, that she had had enough.

‘Why do you do it mamma?”

Mamma turned a glare worthy of melting steel at Marcie, but  she stood strong. It didn’t matter who was laying on the bed sick and dying right now, she was in charge.

“Why can’t you show that you love me? Is it that hard? “ Marcie’s voice cracked at the end.

Mamma stared at her for a moment in apparent shock.

“Why would you say that to me? Do you want to hurt me? Is that it? Your upset about being here so you wish to hurt me. And that’s why you did it, isn’t it?” Mamma seemed to have made that decision and that was now reality no matter what anyone else said.

I did it because I wanted it to end on my terms.

Marcie’s secret was on her lips begging to be spoken, but she swallowed it back. She wanted Mamma to know. She really did. She wanted to watch Mamma’s face when she explained about the tumor in her head. She wanted to see her eyes as she told her what the doctors had said last week; that Marcie had five months, maybe less. But the words wouldn’t come. She hoped the desperation was apparent in her eyes.

Marcie just watched Mamma, searching for something, but came up with nothing like always. Ever since she was a child, looking at Mamma’s face never gave her anything but disappointment .The woman was an unbreachable fortress.

“Yeah that’s it Mamma’. I’m just upset and tired.” Marcie felt the prickling behind her eyes that signaled tears but knew she wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t.

“Well then, get some more rest” Mamma looked at her a bit longer as if trying to figure out a puzzle and then swiftly turned and left the room.

The silence that followed was cold.

Mamma must have loved Marcie in her own way but Marcie couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t enough; nowhere near enough.

“Maybe,” Marcie whispered to Mamma’s receding back, “maybe when it’s all over, you’ll care.”