Prompt and Circumstance

Appointment with a Stranger

"Nerves" (Jan. 6-8, 2017)

"Nervous love?" Mum's warm hand on my arm is good, reassuring. She looks deep into my eyes - into me; in that special way she has sometimes - like she really knows what's going on inside.

It's not always this way, you understand. No. Sometimes it's like we're from two different planets. Sometimes it's like we're setting up for World War 3. But whenever I really need her, she's always there. Like now.

My mouth feels as if I've chewed blotting paper; palms and neck all hot and sweaty. I answer, "only a bit," in a half squeaky voice, like when it broke the other year. I'm not fooling them... not Mum, nor Dad either.

Is today as rough on them as it is on me? I can't imagine how they're feeling. Not even sure how I'm feeling... except sick. Really sick. Maybe call the whole thing off, and I go home to bed? Could be coming down with something terminal. Yeh, sure Daniel, something called cowardice, maybe?

But maybe she won't even show up. Now THAT would be the perfect solution! I think... Oh hell, I don't know. I wanted this so much; needed it; couldn't be a complete person without it. Now it's nearly happening, I wish I could run away; wish I was little again and could hide my face in Mum's skirt like I used to whenever the world felt too big. God, what a wimp, what a piker. It's only my other mother. Should be cool, but it's not. It's confusing and it's weird and I'm jumpy as...

Can't I remember anything about her? Hell, I was four years old when she gave me up. You'd reckon a guy'd remember something. Sometimes I think I do, but it's really stuff Mum has told me. She's been good like that, my Mum. Queer that. Mum's not really my Mum at all. I mean, she didn't conceive me or give birth to me, or even KNOW me for four years. The 'other mother' did. And yet the other one is a stranger.

A stranger. Suddenly everything feels really threatening. Finally meet my 'real' mother... Real? I can think of a real moment I DO remember from the early days with Mum and Dad.

I was in the bath with my frog collection in with me and Mum and I were laughing and playing with them, sitting them on my bath toys like sailors on boats. And I said, "Does my real mum like frogs, too?" God, how come I remember something like this?

I can see Mum's face really clearly. Just for a moment she looked sad, but then she laughed and said, "Oh yes, I'll bet she does. But what's this real mum stuff? If she's real, that must mean I'm unreal... that I'm not really here. And if I'm not really here, who's this putting a frog on your shoulder?"

We both laughed as the frog slid a ticklish path down my back, and decided then and there that we would call 'her' my 'other mother'. Me and Mum and Dad don't like the natural label either, as that must make them unnatural parents.

"Danny?" Mum's voice sets my heart thumping hard again. "I think this is her car coming now. A red Mazda, she said. And look - yes - she's smiling and waving at us. Courage, love. Remember we love you. We're here if you need us."