Norma

What's Wrong With Norman | Taylor Swift and The Civil Wars - Safe & Sound

   Norma was required to pull out all the stops if it meant protecting her family.

   She went to where she knew he would be waiting, and pounced on him like a lioness in the pursuit of prey.

   At first he seemed intrigued, concerned, even. Then, as she continued, his stance was more defensive. He tensed up, and opened his mouth to warn her that he was on duty.

   Norma took note of this, and continued on, insisting that she had to talk about this to someone. The wary-eyed woman almost forced urgency into her voice; perhaps it would be better to talk somewhere else anyways.

   He finally asked her to come over for dinner, and she accepted. Norma left his vehicle, satisfied and smiling about her luck.

   As she shut the door to his car, she suddenly wondered if this might be a trap.

   Norma shook the feeling off. It didn't matter now; she was going to Deputy Shelby's house to find out if he had the belt, and if he didn't have it, she would further her hand by convincing him to get it for her.

   If only it had been so easy.

   Her mind was already hounding her with negative thoughts. She didn't exactly like using herself as a peg in these kinds of games, but this was for the best. This would protect her and Norman.

   She walked up the stone steps to her house. Norman was sitting at the top, his hands knit together in a ball. "Where are you going?"

   "I'm going to put on my face. I'm having dinner with Shelby."

   "Why?"

   "Because, Norman, he knows."

   She dolled herself up. Curled her hair. Put on a little blush and a little lipstick, wore something that was somewhat revealing. And yet, bile came up in her throat as she did so. It was the pattern she had followed her whole life. With Caleb. With John and with Sam, and now with those that threatened to break the perfect, protective wall she had built around her children.

   I have to do this. For myself. For Norman. If the belt disappears, there's no evidence. The case of Keith Summers is buried. Everyone walks free.

   

Norma appeared at Shelby's door with a sickly-sweet smile plastered across her face.

   "Why, don't you look nice."

   "Thank you," she replied in a nearly reluctant way.

   Here goes.

   "Come in. Can I take your coat?"

   "Oh, thank you," she said, sounding surprised. Got to be polite, she thought to herself.

   He offered a drink, and she accepted, tousling her hair when he turned away. Norma leaned herself up against his bookself. Shelby turned to hand her a drink, and she joined him with careful, light steps. Got to be graceful, she thought, all while smiling and thanking him.

   "What's going on?" she finally asked him outright.

   "Well...I need you to tell me about the belt."

   "What belt?" she asked, trying again to play dumb.

   "Don't do that," he chided in a calm tone. "We've gotta be honest with each other. So please tell me, why did your son have Keith Summer's belt?"

   All else fails, turn on the tears.   

   "That Romero-- he's got it out for me," she mumbled, her lips trembling.

   "Romero never saw it. I found it, I took it."

   She glanced back at him, relieved.

   "I'm gonna take care of you, Norma Bates. So don't you worry, everything is gonna be fine."

   And, although the very idea of intimacy with this man scared her, she let him kiss her.

   Norma came home to a fuzzy TV and an empty couch.

   She tried tip-toeing to her room, yet quickly found that it was of no use, as Norman was laying in her bed. Norma rubbed his back and whispered gently in his ear, yet he still seemed to wake with a start.

   "Mother?"

   "You have to go to bed. Everything's okay for now?"

   "What does that mean?" he asked.

   "Zack has the belt. He hid it, and he seems to want to help us."

   "Help us?"

   "Norman, please, I'm tired-- If anyone had ever told me everything I would've gone through today I never would've believed it. I feel safe, so don't worry."

   "This is a bad idea."

   "What?"

   "Letting him use you."

   Norma shook her head. "I'm not gonna have this discussion with you."

   "What if he makes you do things you don't want to do?"

   Her voice stung with indignation, "What do you want me to say? Norman, why would you keep that thing, why?" she asked, moving to sit on the bed beside him. "I don't understand and I want to."

   "I keep momentos--"

   "But those were from good things, Norman. This-- this was horrible, this was violent. I was sexually assaulted and I killed a man. Why would you ever, ever in a million years, why would you want to keep a momento of that?" her gaze had drifted towards the ceiling now; the light of her eyes was filled with confusion and bitterness with every word she spoke.

   Norma wanted to feel safe. She wanted so badly to feel safe that she clung to her own son, unknowing of the antagonistic creature that was forming behind his blank gaze.

   She wanted him to feel safe, and the only way she knew how was to keep clinging.

   Norma fell asleep with the comfort of knowing that her son was nearby. They would always protect each other, of that she was sure. In the end, whatever she endured didn't matter, because her baby boy would be safe.

   Tears formed in her eyes. Her eyelids grew heavy. And yet, her mind told her it was okay. He was here. He would never hurt her. He would keep her safe. Norma melted into the sheets, thinking of her son. Her breathing steadied. Her eyes closed, and for the first time in a long time, they closed without the imaginary threat of impending doom.

   Stay hidden. Deceive them. Stay safe. Keep him close. Stay safe.