MAES 51: A Solid Presence
AN: Most people think that Brigid must have been autistic, or something similar. It’s hard to write from her perspective.
A Solid Presence
Brigid Maturin’s first clear memory was of sunlight, filtering through the curtains and the hangings on what she later knew had been her cradle. A woman was there too; Brigid later understood this woman to be her mother, Diana, or Mrs. Maturin as some called her. That realization was not as important to her as it was to other children - to Brigid, her mother was just another person.
There were several people. In addition to her mother, there were the maids, the men, and quite a lot of visitors. None of them were remotely interesting to her. Nothing interested her at all, much.
0~0
One day, a new person came. A woman. She spoke to Brigid’s mother for a long time. At first her mother seemed happy, then sad. She invited the other woman to stay with them, and the woman soon started to spend a lot of time with Brigid. Brigid learned this woman’s name was Clarissa Oakes, or Mrs. Oakes and she often spoke to Brigid of a man Brigid had never met or seen. A man named Stephen Maturin, her mother’s husband.
Brigid didn’t care much for Clarissa, or the unknown man. She didn’t care much about anything.
0~0
One day, her mother left and didn’t come back, Brigid would not have noticed, but Clarissa seemed a little worried about it.
Brigid finally found something that interested her in a deck of cards. She liked to stack them until they fell down, then she would stack them again. It wasn’t very exciting, but she liked to do it. It was the only thing she liked to do. Sometimes Clarissa would tell her do so something, or go somewhere, and she would do it. Sometimes someone would put food in front of her, and she ate whatever it was. She was never happy; she found neither joy nor interest in life.
Until one day, that began to change.
0~0
She would look back on it later as the first true day of her life, the day when something happened that she cared to think about later, and that would eventually make her very happy.
She had been sitting in a room off the long entrance hall, a carpeted room with a fire and candles. She didn’t care for the room more than any other in the house, which she had never really left all her life, but it was a place she could play with her cards without being disturbed.
Clarissa Oakes rose to answer the door. Conversation, a man’s unfamiliar voice. Footsteps, and Clarissa returned with two men and two other little girls. She murmured something to one of the men; Brigid looked at him, at all of them, but they didn’t interest her, and she turned her attention back to the cards.
But Clarissa took her by the hand and pulled gently so she had to stand up. “Come, my dear, and pay your duty to your father.” Brigid knew this meant she should bob, and did so. The man bent and Brigid stepped back; no man had ever done this before. He only kissed her forehead gently and murmured something she could not make out. Though they did not interest her in the least, Brigid had a way of telling what people were feeling, and she thought the man was in a great deal of pain. She didn’t care.
Clarissa told her the names of the other girls, who bobbed to her and smiled, but they were not interesting. Only one was of interest - the last man. Very tall, with an odd-looking mouth and kind eyes. She knew they were kind because when she’d glanced up at him as she’d glanced at the others, he had been looking straight at her with a knowing gaze, and she thought he was happy to see her. She had looked a second longer, and turned her thoughts back to her card tower.
0~0
Only the last man stayed long. He joined them at every meal, and each time he stared at her the whole while. Brigid took to looking at him for longer and longer periods. He always had that infinitely kind, knowing look in his eyes, and for the first time in her life she was presented with a puzzle that interested her enough to want to solve it. A puzzle in the form of a man. Why did he look at her the way he did? Who was he? He was not the man Clarissa said was her father. He had gone, and Brigid neither knew nor cared where. She watched him even when he was watching her, and she noticed that his hands, whatever they were doing, always seemed gentle, even when he was moving heavy furniture around for Mrs. Oakes.
One day, she had not seen him for some hours. She thought he was not in the house, and she wondered what he was doing. For the first time, she decided to go outside herself.
She knew where the front door was of course. Walking through it, unnoticed by anyone, she headed towards the stables, which she had often seen from windows but never went into. The man was there, grooming a horse and humming to himself. The horse seemed to like him, for it kept nudging him and he would pat its nose.
She wanted him to look at her, but she did not want to speak to him. She only ever tried speaking when she was alone, for she never had anything to say to anybody. She walked up to him and grasped the leg of his breeches in one hand.
He looked down at her and smiled; that now quite familiar, kind smile, and she felt one corner of her mouth rise a little in return.
He pointed to the horse and said “Horse.” And she knew that was what he said, though it was not the same word Clarissa used.
“Horse,” she repeated, using this new word for the animal, which lowered its great head and nudged her for a pat. She raised her hand and touched its nose, as she sometimes touched the head of the dog. The horse snorted against her palm and the sensation was so very odd that she huffed out a breath in a way she never had before, but which reminded her of when Clarissa or one of the other women laughed. It was not quite like it, but it reminded her of it all the same.
0~0
The witch came two days later.
At least, Brigid thought she was a witch. Clarissa had sometimes read her stories in the evening, and a few of those stories were about witches - horrible women who shrieked and scared people and did wicked things.
Clarissa had been trying to play with her in the toy room, but Brigid was not interested in the balls, the hoops or the dolls. She wanted to go out with the horses again, but she knew the man was not there, and she did not want to go without him. The maid came to tell Clarissa that someone was there to see her. Clarissa went out and left Brigid there. What Clarissa said to the witch Brigid did not know, nor would she have cared except she heard footsteps on the stairs and the door flew open to reveal the most horrible old woman Brigid had ever seen.
The witch immediately walked up to her, shrieking and shaking her finger. Brigid could not tell what the witch was shrieking about; she was too frightened by the woman’s manner. Eventually, she realized the witch was telling her to talk, to behave like other children, and do all sorts of other things that Brigid had never cared to do in her life, or the most horrible things would happen to her. She sensed that this was a very bad, very wicked woman.
Clarissa appeared at the door, with the groom and one of the maids. She spoke sharply to the witch and pointed to the door. The witch began shrieking at Clarissa, but moved to the door as she did. Clarissa looked at Brigid in worry; Brigid looked back, feeling her lip begin to tremble and a strange feeling in her eyes.
When the witch had gone, the man appeared at the door; Brigid thought he looked angry, but as soon as his gaze fell on her, the kind look returned. Without saying a word he crossed to Brigid, bent down and picked her up, settling her against his shoulder and patting her back, murmuring to her in that strange way of speaking. She didn’t know what he was saying, and she didn’t care. Not because it didn’t interest her, but because it didn’t matter. All she cared about was that it made her feel better.
She liked this man, she decided abruptly, and raised her arms to wrap them around his neck. He kissed the top of her head, and began walking back and forth across the room with her, singing gently. His seemed a more solid presence than that of any other person, and his voice reminded her of her music box.
0~0
Padeen began playing games with her. She did not quite grasp all that he meant, for he still spoke in that strange way, but gradually she began to understand him, and even speak to him in the same way. He was the only person she had ever cared to speak to, and he seemed very happy every time she did, encouraging her. He often praised her, often kissed her cheek or her hands, and she liked the way his whiskers sometimes tickled.
Her father came back briefly, a few weeks after he had left. She did not care to speak to him, and he still did not interest her until dinner the first night he was there. He spoke to Padeen in the same way Padeen always spoke to her, and her eyes darted to him. For the first time she really looked at him.
She saw a small, pale man with dark hair and eyes the color of a mirror. He looked back at her with a terrible sadness in his eyes, though it did not seem to be quite as great as the sadness she had sensed in him the only other time she had been in his presence. It was clear Padeen liked him, though, and he could speak in the same musical way Padeen did.
Yes, she thought she might be quite happy with him as a father. If only he would smile at her, too.
0~0
The third time her father visited, Brigid was outside walking in the grounds with Padeen. They rounded the house to see a chaise and four waiting. Brigid had never been so happy to see one of these vehicles before. It must be a grand visitor, must it not? she asked Padeen.
They rushed into the house to tell Clarissa of the chaise, and their visitor. She had already exclaimed “Horses!” when she realized their visitor was already there, seated at the table.
Brigid felt suddenly nervous on seeing her father, Padeen had told her much of him, and she had gradually come to admire this good and kind man so warmly described. She had also come to realize that the terrible sadness she had sensed from him was because of her, and she felt sorry for making him feel it.
Padeen took her gently by the hand, and led her to her father, who was watching her with what seemed to be a muted joy in his eyes, ready to break out at any moment. She greeted him and raised her face, hoping to see him smile.
He did - a trembling smile that nonetheless lit his careworn face. He bent to her and kissed her forehead and each cheek. Speaking in the more musical of the two ways of speaking she knew, he murmured, “God and Mary and Patrick be with you, my daughter…”
0~0
Traveling up on the chaise with Padeen was the greatest joy of her life, soon to be surpassed by others. Brigid thought that if only she had been allowed the chance to see this great wide world that must have always been there, she would have been far more interested in things.
But nothing she had ever seen nor would ever see could compare with her first glimpse of the ocean, and her first voyage upon it, sailing with her father and all these kind men who smiled at her. Not the least of whom was her father. He often took her upon his lap and spoke to her, telling her of this place called Spain she would be living in for a while. His smile turned sad when he said that he would be with her again as soon as may be, but that may not be for a good long time, and she would wrap her arms around his neck and kiss his face - which tickled more than Padeen - and his smile would turn happy, and he would kiss her face and murmur that she was his dear child, his little angel, and he loved her much.
Like Padeen, his was a solid presence, and she was interested in him. More, she loved him, and she knew she loved him because it made her chest hurt when he seemed sad, and she always wished to see him happy.
She thought he was happy when he bid good-bye to them, and the carriage moved away from the dock, for he smiled and waved as she and Clarissa waved their handkerchiefs until he was out of sight. But Clarissa said he seemed very sad to her.
“Why is Papa sad?” she asked.
“I could see it on his face. He hates parting from you, my dear. Even though he is happy that you will be safe here.”
Brigid sat back in the seat, and wondered how a person could be sad and happy at the same time.
A Solid Presence
Brigid Maturin’s first clear memory was of sunlight, filtering through the curtains and the hangings on what she later knew had been her cradle. A woman was there too; Brigid later understood this woman to be her mother, Diana, or Mrs. Maturin as some called her. That realization was not as important to her as it was to other children - to Brigid, her mother was just another person.
There were several people. In addition to her mother, there were the maids, the men, and quite a lot of visitors. None of them were remotely interesting to her. Nothing interested her at all, much.
0~0
One day, a new person came. A woman. She spoke to Brigid’s mother for a long time. At first her mother seemed happy, then sad. She invited the other woman to stay with them, and the woman soon started to spend a lot of time with Brigid. Brigid learned this woman’s name was Clarissa Oakes, or Mrs. Oakes and she often spoke to Brigid of a man Brigid had never met or seen. A man named Stephen Maturin, her mother’s husband.
Brigid didn’t care much for Clarissa, or the unknown man. She didn’t care much about anything.
0~0
One day, her mother left and didn’t come back, Brigid would not have noticed, but Clarissa seemed a little worried about it.
Brigid finally found something that interested her in a deck of cards. She liked to stack them until they fell down, then she would stack them again. It wasn’t very exciting, but she liked to do it. It was the only thing she liked to do. Sometimes Clarissa would tell her do so something, or go somewhere, and she would do it. Sometimes someone would put food in front of her, and she ate whatever it was. She was never happy; she found neither joy nor interest in life.
Until one day, that began to change.
0~0
She would look back on it later as the first true day of her life, the day when something happened that she cared to think about later, and that would eventually make her very happy.
She had been sitting in a room off the long entrance hall, a carpeted room with a fire and candles. She didn’t care for the room more than any other in the house, which she had never really left all her life, but it was a place she could play with her cards without being disturbed.
Clarissa Oakes rose to answer the door. Conversation, a man’s unfamiliar voice. Footsteps, and Clarissa returned with two men and two other little girls. She murmured something to one of the men; Brigid looked at him, at all of them, but they didn’t interest her, and she turned her attention back to the cards.
But Clarissa took her by the hand and pulled gently so she had to stand up. “Come, my dear, and pay your duty to your father.” Brigid knew this meant she should bob, and did so. The man bent and Brigid stepped back; no man had ever done this before. He only kissed her forehead gently and murmured something she could not make out. Though they did not interest her in the least, Brigid had a way of telling what people were feeling, and she thought the man was in a great deal of pain. She didn’t care.
Clarissa told her the names of the other girls, who bobbed to her and smiled, but they were not interesting. Only one was of interest - the last man. Very tall, with an odd-looking mouth and kind eyes. She knew they were kind because when she’d glanced up at him as she’d glanced at the others, he had been looking straight at her with a knowing gaze, and she thought he was happy to see her. She had looked a second longer, and turned her thoughts back to her card tower.
0~0
Only the last man stayed long. He joined them at every meal, and each time he stared at her the whole while. Brigid took to looking at him for longer and longer periods. He always had that infinitely kind, knowing look in his eyes, and for the first time in her life she was presented with a puzzle that interested her enough to want to solve it. A puzzle in the form of a man. Why did he look at her the way he did? Who was he? He was not the man Clarissa said was her father. He had gone, and Brigid neither knew nor cared where. She watched him even when he was watching her, and she noticed that his hands, whatever they were doing, always seemed gentle, even when he was moving heavy furniture around for Mrs. Oakes.
One day, she had not seen him for some hours. She thought he was not in the house, and she wondered what he was doing. For the first time, she decided to go outside herself.
She knew where the front door was of course. Walking through it, unnoticed by anyone, she headed towards the stables, which she had often seen from windows but never went into. The man was there, grooming a horse and humming to himself. The horse seemed to like him, for it kept nudging him and he would pat its nose.
She wanted him to look at her, but she did not want to speak to him. She only ever tried speaking when she was alone, for she never had anything to say to anybody. She walked up to him and grasped the leg of his breeches in one hand.
He looked down at her and smiled; that now quite familiar, kind smile, and she felt one corner of her mouth rise a little in return.
He pointed to the horse and said “Horse.” And she knew that was what he said, though it was not the same word Clarissa used.
“Horse,” she repeated, using this new word for the animal, which lowered its great head and nudged her for a pat. She raised her hand and touched its nose, as she sometimes touched the head of the dog. The horse snorted against her palm and the sensation was so very odd that she huffed out a breath in a way she never had before, but which reminded her of when Clarissa or one of the other women laughed. It was not quite like it, but it reminded her of it all the same.
0~0
The witch came two days later.
At least, Brigid thought she was a witch. Clarissa had sometimes read her stories in the evening, and a few of those stories were about witches - horrible women who shrieked and scared people and did wicked things.
Clarissa had been trying to play with her in the toy room, but Brigid was not interested in the balls, the hoops or the dolls. She wanted to go out with the horses again, but she knew the man was not there, and she did not want to go without him. The maid came to tell Clarissa that someone was there to see her. Clarissa went out and left Brigid there. What Clarissa said to the witch Brigid did not know, nor would she have cared except she heard footsteps on the stairs and the door flew open to reveal the most horrible old woman Brigid had ever seen.
The witch immediately walked up to her, shrieking and shaking her finger. Brigid could not tell what the witch was shrieking about; she was too frightened by the woman’s manner. Eventually, she realized the witch was telling her to talk, to behave like other children, and do all sorts of other things that Brigid had never cared to do in her life, or the most horrible things would happen to her. She sensed that this was a very bad, very wicked woman.
Clarissa appeared at the door, with the groom and one of the maids. She spoke sharply to the witch and pointed to the door. The witch began shrieking at Clarissa, but moved to the door as she did. Clarissa looked at Brigid in worry; Brigid looked back, feeling her lip begin to tremble and a strange feeling in her eyes.
When the witch had gone, the man appeared at the door; Brigid thought he looked angry, but as soon as his gaze fell on her, the kind look returned. Without saying a word he crossed to Brigid, bent down and picked her up, settling her against his shoulder and patting her back, murmuring to her in that strange way of speaking. She didn’t know what he was saying, and she didn’t care. Not because it didn’t interest her, but because it didn’t matter. All she cared about was that it made her feel better.
She liked this man, she decided abruptly, and raised her arms to wrap them around his neck. He kissed the top of her head, and began walking back and forth across the room with her, singing gently. His seemed a more solid presence than that of any other person, and his voice reminded her of her music box.
0~0
Padeen began playing games with her. She did not quite grasp all that he meant, for he still spoke in that strange way, but gradually she began to understand him, and even speak to him in the same way. He was the only person she had ever cared to speak to, and he seemed very happy every time she did, encouraging her. He often praised her, often kissed her cheek or her hands, and she liked the way his whiskers sometimes tickled.
Her father came back briefly, a few weeks after he had left. She did not care to speak to him, and he still did not interest her until dinner the first night he was there. He spoke to Padeen in the same way Padeen always spoke to her, and her eyes darted to him. For the first time she really looked at him.
She saw a small, pale man with dark hair and eyes the color of a mirror. He looked back at her with a terrible sadness in his eyes, though it did not seem to be quite as great as the sadness she had sensed in him the only other time she had been in his presence. It was clear Padeen liked him, though, and he could speak in the same musical way Padeen did.
Yes, she thought she might be quite happy with him as a father. If only he would smile at her, too.
0~0
The third time her father visited, Brigid was outside walking in the grounds with Padeen. They rounded the house to see a chaise and four waiting. Brigid had never been so happy to see one of these vehicles before. It must be a grand visitor, must it not? she asked Padeen.
They rushed into the house to tell Clarissa of the chaise, and their visitor. She had already exclaimed “Horses!” when she realized their visitor was already there, seated at the table.
Brigid felt suddenly nervous on seeing her father, Padeen had told her much of him, and she had gradually come to admire this good and kind man so warmly described. She had also come to realize that the terrible sadness she had sensed from him was because of her, and she felt sorry for making him feel it.
Padeen took her gently by the hand, and led her to her father, who was watching her with what seemed to be a muted joy in his eyes, ready to break out at any moment. She greeted him and raised her face, hoping to see him smile.
He did - a trembling smile that nonetheless lit his careworn face. He bent to her and kissed her forehead and each cheek. Speaking in the more musical of the two ways of speaking she knew, he murmured, “God and Mary and Patrick be with you, my daughter…”
0~0
Traveling up on the chaise with Padeen was the greatest joy of her life, soon to be surpassed by others. Brigid thought that if only she had been allowed the chance to see this great wide world that must have always been there, she would have been far more interested in things.
But nothing she had ever seen nor would ever see could compare with her first glimpse of the ocean, and her first voyage upon it, sailing with her father and all these kind men who smiled at her. Not the least of whom was her father. He often took her upon his lap and spoke to her, telling her of this place called Spain she would be living in for a while. His smile turned sad when he said that he would be with her again as soon as may be, but that may not be for a good long time, and she would wrap her arms around his neck and kiss his face - which tickled more than Padeen - and his smile would turn happy, and he would kiss her face and murmur that she was his dear child, his little angel, and he loved her much.
Like Padeen, his was a solid presence, and she was interested in him. More, she loved him, and she knew she loved him because it made her chest hurt when he seemed sad, and she always wished to see him happy.
She thought he was happy when he bid good-bye to them, and the carriage moved away from the dock, for he smiled and waved as she and Clarissa waved their handkerchiefs until he was out of sight. But Clarissa said he seemed very sad to her.
“Why is Papa sad?” she asked.
“I could see it on his face. He hates parting from you, my dear. Even though he is happy that you will be safe here.”
Brigid sat back in the seat, and wondered how a person could be sad and happy at the same time.