The Firefly Field Theory

|3| You're Going To Hurt Yourself: Part II

Hello! How are you today?

I see you're back again! so this means you must be interested, huh? where is the comment section you say? Well just scroll down to the end of the story and there you are! Do drop a VOTE and COMMENT if you like the story so far.

Also this chapter is dedicated to a really talented girl with an awesome username! because her comments make me smile:) Thankyou!

Read On!

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PART II:

 “I’m fine”, she says. I hear her fumble with her luggage. Maybe even this answer is rhetorical. She is obviously not fine.

 I hear the door shut and mom makes occasional grunting sounds as she rolls her carry-on over the carpet in the living room. I don't know why she bothers to shut the door, this has to be the third trip her luggage is getting from her room to the living room. And something tells me soon she will expect me to do the same for my stuff. As if it is absolutely essential to pack and unpack and pack and unpack until you have memorized the exact contents of your stuff.

 I grab a spoon and start beating the coffee just to look busy. Mom walks into the kitchen and makes no eye contact with me, instead she nervously looks around like she has never been here before. Like this is the Master Chef kitchen and I am Gordon Ramsay. I haven't seen her so frazzled before. The color drained from her face, her hands replaced by jiggling strands of licorice and her nervous laughter when she pulls one of the chairs out and it collides with her taking her by surprise.

 I know everything she is doing is making the right light in my brain flash again and again, with a computerized sound saying ‘WARNING APPROACH WITH CAUTION’

 But I can’t bear to watch her, she is going to hurt herself.

 “Mom do you want some coffee?” I ask, attempt number one to stop her from freaking out.

 “Huh? What honey?” she asks finally looking at me.

 'WARNING APPROACH WITH CAUTION’ the ringing goes on.

 “Coffee? Want some?” attempt number two.

 She thinks about this for a moment and then says “No, honey you already know I am not a coffee person.” She even manages to smile.

 Good. That is good. She remembers she is not a coffee person and how to smile, even though she may have lost the part of her brain which knows how to pull a chair without hurting herself.

 She gets up and walks over to the stove preparing to make tea for herself I guess. But she just stands there.

 ‘WARNING APPROACH WITH CAUTION’

 I take the time to sit down on the chair farthest from the kitchen range and from where I can keep an eye on her without getting too close. She is still not moving, just standing there. As an attempt number three I start beating up the coffee and sugar mix on full speed making the spoon clank with more ferocity then I ever have and God forbid ever will.

 Faster.

 Nothing

 Faster.

 Nothing.is.happening, attempt number four, ”Can you believe it!”

 She snaps her head and turns around startled.

 “What?”

 “I said can you believe we are actually going to meet dad after so long?” I raise my voice an octave higher on the loud as well as merry scale. And then just for a moment I see her. My mom. Somewhere in that bundle of agitated nerves is the timid girl who blushes just a little. Who smiles the most adorable smile as her eyelids flutter and she is at loss of words. She is in there, she will be okay. Maybe somewhere inside me, I am in there. The me that is really happy to go back home again. But at the moment that me is hidden. And maybe all the things that are hidden are there and not. So maybe I am happy to finally meet dad and I am not happy to finally meet dad. And the answers are with the hidden me. But nobody has ever bothered to ask the hidden me or even look for it like I tried looking for moms’.