Darla

Sarah's eyes widened first, her already white skin paled and took on a waxen sheen. From
across the table Meridith could see the blue green veins spidering in motion across her daughter's forehead. Her slate grey eyes darkened and changed to slits as her surprised look took form into one of anger. The girl's small fingers trembled turning pink with force as she clenched the fork tighter letting its mound of perched corn rain haphazardly back down onto the plate. She lifted her gaze to peer directly into her mother's and stabbed the fork full force into the aged oak table, the loud hollow thump filling the heavy silence.  She sat back and crossed her arms conveying a defiance Meridith was now becoming accustomed to whenever Darla was mentioned.

"No!  I'm not doing it mama. I'm not. I'll wash the dishes, I'll clear the table, anything else. Spank me of you want to, I'm not doing it."

Meredith kept her eyes glued to the face of her daughter wondering where the anger came from. She had been raised with sisters, being second from the top she often had to bathe and care for the younger ones but had never bubbled anger like molten lava at the tasks. She waited, keeping her gaze focused intently on the girls, waiting.

Finally Sarah looked down, her focus on her hands, a whisper of a word "sorry" escaping from her pale pursed lips.  It hung in the air for a moment, and settled between them making the universe lighter again.

Meridith rose from the table, her chair screeching in protest on the wooden slat flooring, her shoes clicking their way towards the sulking girl trapped between being a child and bordering adulthood. She bent over the gangly pre-teen, smelling the sweat and earth of a days ending with a small hint of sour fear.

"Thank you. Just put Darla to bed. That's all. I'll go in and read her a story when I'm done in here. It's not so bad is it? Being a big sister, helping your old mom out?"

Meredith's lips lingered on the damp salty forehead of her oldest daughter. The ringlet like curls framing her small face swayed to the puffs of air escaping her nose as she prolonged the moment for just an extra tick of the clock.

Sarah pulled her fork from the table and lay it in her plate.  Her eyes drifting to the darkened bedroom, her shoulders lifting and becoming rigid. "She smells Momma, and she scares me."  The words were soft and desperate and Meridith cocked her head to catch them, like trying to catch a whisper from far away.

"You smell too, when it gets close to bath time. And don't you be scared of your sister for goodness sake. She's small but she loves big. She just has her own way is all. Just put her to bed Sarah, I'm not asking you for anything I wouldn't do myself."

The small lamp in the bedroom clicked and Meridith turned and began to clear the dishes from the table. Scraping bits of uneaten food into the bin, running the hot water until her hands screamed in protest. She too dreaded the night although she'd never admit it. Like shadows, her fears stretched and grew with the hours. Noises and worries piling up like the bits of food making a pile so big it threatened to run over and crush her.

When the dragging and thumping stopped coming from the bedroom she wiped the dishes dry and put them in neat stacks inside the cupboard where wind rushed out of the cracks, cool against her skin that had been heated by the waters steam. She inhaled the smell of pine and sap and decaying leaves and closed her eyes, letting her fingers wander over the smooth cool ceramic of the blue patterned China.

She wiped the table, pausing to place her fingers over the four small holes from the fork. I'll remember, she thought, because of these holes I'll remember. It's easier that way, to remember by seeing and feeling like a pathway.

She hummed as she walked into the bedroom, the dim yellow light from the lamp causing her shadow to appear before her body.  Sarah lay in the far bed, covered head to toe, pressed against the wall as if she were willing herself to break out. The rise and fall uneven and jagged, as if the arm of the devil wait just above her blanket fortress waiting to snatch her life.

Meridith sighed. Remembering when the three of them huddled together giggling over stories of princesses and pixies, dreaming of far off places and winning battles by swatting pillows at invisible beasts over gumball rings.

She sat carefully on the edge of Darla's bed. Gently snuggling her large frame next to the tiny one upon the lumpy mattress.  She smoothed the hair away from Darla's face and smiled at the big blue eyes staring above. 

"You feel cold Darla, do you need another blanket?"

She tucked the edges of the frayed quilt around her and wiggled closer. The scent of the fall leaves raising to her nose. As always, Darla, quiet Darla, stayed still, her tiny white teeth catching rays of moonlight off her smile.

Meredith lay her cheek against her daughter's soft golden downy hair, breathing in the fresh mint stuffed beneath the pillowcase.

"It's time for your story Darla, it's your favorite. The one about the girl who wanted the moon." 

She read the words animated, her left hand resting upon the bird like ribs of her youngest. Every so often, stopping to check for the slow rise and fall of sleep to come.

When the story was over she placed the book upon the stand. She gently placed her dry lips upon Darla's, the quickened movement causing her to snag her bottom lip on the shinning white teeth glinting in the light.  She tasted blood, warm and tin flavored like water from a rusty bucket on a summer day.  She reached up with surprise at the sting, and pulled back her pointer finger to examine to dot of crimson.  Impulsively, she placed it upon the girl's own small lips, giving her a look of rosey tint.  With her right hand she grabbed the pair of quarters from the end table drawer. She kissed each one, before rubbing them clean on the front of her soft cotton shirt.

She lifted her now shaking fingers, and softly closed those big blue eyes, the drying skin creaking in defiance. She placed the quarters in place. One for the left, careful not to catch those butterfly eyelashes that curled so gently toward heaven. And one for the right, which clinked as it slid too quickly against the hardened globe.  Tomorrow, i'll remember to moisten them tomorrow. 

She tucked the tiny arms close to the body with just a bit of force and pulled the covers firmly before anchoring them beneath to hold the her like a hug through the night. As she quietly got up from the bed she brushed her shirt, humming to drown the thumps of the fat white maggots as they clinked to the floor and squirm for cover between the wooden floor slats.

"We have to change your bedding tomorrow Darla. It's been a few days, I'm sorry. Tomorrow when you're in the rocker I'll change it all. Mommy will fix it like new. You'll be happier in a cleaner bed."

Meredith reaches for the lamp, her fingers feeling the warmth of the bulb, her hands fumbling to find the button as Sarah cries "don't turn it off, please I need the light."

Her hand retracts, as if scorched. "Ok baby, I'll leave it on, sweet dreams angel. Go to sleep. Maybe you and Darla can dream together."

Sarah's body curls tightly into a ball, her sniffles barely audible beneath the mountain of covers.

Meridith's shoes click and echo through the silence as she makes her way to the doorway. It's the perfect moment. The girls are safe and tucked, the stillness of night hangs heavy and all is still and quiet. She knows in the morning she will find Sarah sleeping in the great room, her bones protruding and bits of blue from the bruises of the hard wooden floor.

Sisters, she thinks, as she relaxes beneath the cool sheets of her bed, someday all they'll have will be each other and they'll laugh about these rivalry days. As she closes her eyes she hears the patter of bare feet slapping against the floor.

She leans back until she feels the support of a firm frame beside her.  Daniel, her rock, so steady and still in the bed.  He's always been there for her, except once, the night they had their only fight, the time he tried to take sweet Darla away claiming her deep sleep was forever.  But that was their only moment of disagreement in all these years, it ended with one quick swish of a knife and was never brought up again.  He's been the perfect husband since.  Still, and silent, and the perfect companion for Darla on days she has to venture out.

Meridith closed her eyes, inhaling the musky sent of her husband and finding comfort.  She lay her head across his forearm wiggling herself until she lay upon the smooth worn spaces in the bony plates which glistened in the moonlight.  Peace, and quiet and a perfect little family, almost. She would have to tackle Sarah's defiance soon, but it wasn't something she couldn't handle.

Tamoja. 1,602 words.
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