Jan 02, 2012 11:38
THE MEME NEEDS ARCHIVISTS!GUIDELINES
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G had a relatively happy and safe childhood. He had a really cool daddy who played games with him and gave him new toys and an awesome Auntie Rose who cooked yummy food and told him bedtime stories. It perhaps wasn’t as exciting as slaying a dragon or practising a new spell but he didn’t mind. Much. At least he knew that the other boys in the neighbourhood were in the same boat as he was.
The first time his world faltered came in the form of a patiently asked question on the first day of school.
“What does G stand for dear?”
G didn’t understand the first time Mrs Williams asked the question nor the second or the third. By that time his teacher was giving soft reassurance, mistakenly taking his blank confusion for panicked horror. “It’s alright sweetheart, just a silly little mistake the office made, I’m sure your mummy or daddy is going to sort this all out.”
G smiled uncertainly and soon enough, Mrs Williams moved on to talk with the whole class but he couldn’t for the life of him, understand what had just happened.
Why had she asked about his mummy? He knew that everybody else had at least one mummy and daddy. Sometimes, they even had more than one pair. He had a mummy too; saw her in photos next to Daddy but it was different, because she was never actually there. He had a daddy and an Auntie Rose instead. Other boys had mummies to nag at them but he had Auntie Rose who did none of that bad, boring stuff and all of the good. He had always thought it was because he was a good boy who never needed a mummy to shout out at him but…
What if it was the opposite? What if Mummy wasn’t there because he was bad? So bad that she wouldn’t even meet him?
G’s increasing worry made him glance around and his eyes were suddenly caught on the various nametags written in bold, colourful paint. He realised with sudden clarity just how small and easily forgotten it was on the large expanse of white paper, how different it was compared to others, and felt terror wash over him.
If it was because he was bad that Mummy wasn’t there, then it was alright, because G knew he could fix that and become good, like he had with Daddy and Auntie Rose. But what if it was because he was different? Because he was weird? G couldn’t fix weirdness. Everybody knew that once you got it, it was for life - just like getting cooties from girls.
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He calmed down when she told Mrs Williams ‘G’ was a perfectly normal name. He didn’t really like Mrs Williams and thought she needed a telling off from her own mummy about being rude.
The first thing he did when the teacher left and they were heading home was ask, “Everybody else has a mummy. Where's mine?”
Auntie Rose had nearly tripped before she got herself together. “I think, G that that is a question you need to ask your daddy okay sweetie?”
G bit his lip. “It’s not because I’m bad is it?”
“Of course not sweetheart!” Auntie Rose’s next words came out a bit choked. “She’d be here if she could be but she can’t, no matter how much she wishes for it.”
“Not even on a falling star?”
“Not even then.”
G leaned in to impart a great secret and whispered, “Will she still want to even if I’m…weird?”
“There’s nothing wrong with being special G.” Her words were firm. “Who told you that?”
“No one.” He muttered. “It’s just…my name is so…short compared to others.”
“‘G’ is an awesome, really cool and special name. You want to know a secret?” G nodded eagerly. “Your mum is the one who gave you your name.” G looked awed and Auntie Rose nodded decisively. “That’s why your mummy loves you very much, no matter how bad you’ve been and she is always proud of you, even when she can’t be here.”
When his dad returned, G asked him about Mummy and he sighed but gently told him the story about his mum. He was sad that she was never going to visit or bake a cake with Auntie Rose on his birthday but it didn’t matter. She had given him the best present ever anyway, nothing could beat a name that was his, and his alone.
That night he fell asleep to the sound of Auntie Rose’s voice as she told a story about his mum and dreamed about his whole family having a picnic together on the clouds with angels flying around them.
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