Taming The Lockwood

Twenty One

Number 8, Peachwood Avenue looked just as it did a couple of years ago. From the end of the street, my eyes easily find my childhood home and I follow my childlike footprints to the front gate, treading in such a way to avoid the cracks on the pavement. It was a mental game I had conjured up for my own entertainment where stepping on the cracks would lead to bad luck. What were once giant leaps to avoid them were now dainty steps, too small for me to pick up a mediocre pace.

Thankfully, I had lost Elijah somewhere  at Harrison Station in the middle of platform 9 and 10. Yes, quite literally. Now there's more of a spring in my step to know I had managed to undermine Gabriel's right hand man.

My childhood home was placed in a rather sketchy part of town, though the street name was extremely unfitting. I hadn't had the best of upbringings, it was modest and general, perhaps a little on the poorer side, but my mother and I managed to get through without my father. At one point, my mother had to work three jobs on minimum wage as a cleaner, dinner lady, and retail worker just to make ends meet which meant I would hardly see her once a week, let alone daily.

I was forever in awe of my mother's hardworking nature- enduring a combination of poorly paid and unpaid labour, a lack of sleep, all combined with a bratty child must've been exhausting.

It wasn't until she was offered a promotion alongside a paid degree, both of which she gratefully accepted that she was able to quit her other jobs and focus her attention on one. Her health which had experienced a large decline improved considerably; she put on more healthy weight and her once sunken smile brought joy to my world again.

But my mother never moved, considering her increase of wealth. I'd always wondered why, settling on the idea she was too humble to want to move away, or perhaps the memories were too precious for her to part with. In that case, a smaller part of me assumed it was my father's involvement which played a role.

Now, she's been through a couple of promotions from working as a departmental manager to a more regional based manager and the pride that filled my heart for her was unimaginable. She was my role model and more.

"You didn't tell me you were coming! It's been so long." She murmurs, an excited expression glazing her face. She's opened the door before I am given the opportunity to knock and she watches me, grinning from ear to ear. I bet it was time for her daily dose of people-watching by the sofa.

"I just missed you." A guilty feeling nibbles at my conscience and I vow to stay for the rest of the weekend, "And you know how busy work gets." I roll my eyes, a grin on my face.

The comment brings images of Gabriel to mind and I squash them frustratedly. I'm equally distracted by my mother's wobbly lip and I speak out.

"Mama."

"Oh darling." She draws me into a hug, just as I barrel into her arms and she lets out a grunt.

"You're so thin, what's happened to you?" She whispers in my ear, concerned, and my arms wrap around her waist while I go to bury my face in her hair, inhaling the comforting scent of her perfume. It's tinged with a citrusy flavour and the smell is so nostalgic, it brings tears to the surface of my eyes. "Oh mama." I sniffle, overwhelmed by everything.

She rubs my back with gentle affection and we stay in the same position for a couple of minutes. Once the tears are under control, I pull away and blot my eyes with the corner of the t - shirt I'm wearing. She holds me at arm's length and inspects me, her eyes surveying the state of me. "Mum!" I groan out and she laughs out, letting go of my figure. It's only then I realise the clothes I'm wearing are Gabriel's and I make a move to head inside, knowing full well my mother is going to ask about the owner of the garments.