The Secret World of Maya Alexander

Chapter 5

Jackie was accompanied by a small bunch of droopy bluebells bobbing in her hand and her youngest daughter Alice. Haunted by the terrified look of helplessness in her mum's eyes all those years ago when Maya had gone missing,  Alice had insisted on accompanying her mum.

Maya remained still in her bed. Posed like a doll in a stiff upright position. Unlike a doll, her eyes had not sprung obediently open as soon she had been yanked into her 'awake' posture.

Her ears were open though. Sharp sounds lunged around amidst the vacant dark.

Doors.
Voices.
Kettle.
Whispers.
Raised voices.
Stairs.
Closer.
Door.
People.
Window.

Birdsong.

Air.

Breathe.

Maya gasped. Her eyes unbolted, searching to fill the void with that sweet song. Fresh air reached into the room to raise her from her bed.

'I told you she was resting peacefully! Look you've startled her coming in here unannounced and opening that window. It's cold out there and those birds will keep her awake!' June scolded her daughter in law's mother, oblivious to the higher ranking bestowed upon Jackie as actual birth mother of the convalescent.

'She needs to be awake!' The taller and more slender woman scolded back. 'She needs to hear the birds and feel the cold air! She needs to know she is here and that we are here with her.'

June did not altogether understand what Jackie was trying to say. It was probably some kind of psychobabble. Maybe that's where Maya had got her career ideas from. But she realised she had been out-manoeuvred. Unable to respond, she maintained her position as mother in charge and asserted. 'I will make a nice warm cuppa! If we must have that window open in March, at least let me warm her up with some tea!' And with that she left the bedroom.

Alice remained in the doorway, patiently allowing time and space to unfold, unlike her elder counterparts, who were behaving as though they were participating in a mothering competition and waking Maya was the prize.

It meant so much to Jackie to be there and prove herself. Yet despite her good intentions, she felt uncomfortable with the helpless feelings that her middle daughter bestowed upon her from time to time.  She had not yet approached her daughter's bedside. Alice glared at her. More discomfort.

Jackie finally hurried to Maya's side. Her daughter's stare did not move from the open window. Jackie took her hand. It was cold. Maybe June had been right about the chill in the air.

She lifted the now drooping bluebells, too long out of the earth and in need of rain to replenish them, and placed them in front of Maya's glassy eyes. 'Look Maya! Would you believe that Alice made me stop off on the dual carriageway to pick these for you! I told her I was sure it was illegal!'

'Bluebells in March! I'm not sure whether it's legal, but it's not natural that's for sure,' June scoffed, as she returned with a teapot and mugs on a tray.

Nature's watery scent whispered beneath Maya's nose. Her senses awakened. The neat bright blue-violet petals tickled her nostrils.

Unaware of the subtle rousing power of the bluebells, long since torn from the happy blue field which carpeted the side of the dual carriageway, Jackie ripped them back and waved them towards her youngest daughter. 'Alice, be a love and put them in some water. They're half dead after our journey, maybe some water will liven them up for when Maya has woken up a bit more?'

This time, more instinctively, she returned her attention to Maya. 'Maa-yaa,' she called softly in a sing-song voice that she used to use when Maya was small.

Maya's vacant eyes had returned to the window. They had fixed upon something that no one else could see. A blackbird stopped its work building an untidy cup shaped home of twigs and grasses and called to Maya with an elegant mellow flute like song. He delivered his melody. Perfectly punctuated with pause and vibration. The beautiful ditty, soothed like a lullaby in the busy emptiness of her mind. A soft rattling quality announced its ending, hushing its audience, before suddenly taking flight.

Maya's eyes filled with fear. They darted desperately. Hunting down the vanishing.

A tear fell. It fell for the loss of the blackbird and its beautiful song; for the loss of the vibrant bluebells and their fresh scent promising Spring. She felt loss. And she cried.

'It's okay to cry Maya,' Jackie whispered to her daughter. 'It's okay to feel.' She squeezed her daughter's hand, willing her to feel.

A warm tear landed upon their locked fingers. Then another. Again. More tears from her daughter's eyes. An uneasy relief pushed itself from Jackie's chest as she embraced her daughter's sadness. She held her tightly and  rocked her gently.

'Everything is going to be okay. Everything will be okay.' Jackie chanted to Maya and to herself and out beyond the blackbird's nest too.

Warm tears running down her face, Maya began to stir. The warmth of her mother next to her, the sing song promise like a prayer, her own moist face. Summoning all of her strength, Maya willed her arms into movement. Raising them. Reaching out. Finally, holding on to her mother. Not letting go. And she cried. She cried for all that was lost.