Mercy's Undoing
Mercy was gone… I was barely past my third year of life… and still learning what it was to have a title. The name "Mercy" had once been "mother", but now that she was gone, I heard her referred to as Mercy as I went through my days. Dad called her Mercy only now. My grandparents called her Mercy with the same tone as they used with me when upset…
so when Daisy started calling her Mercy, Madison and I just followed the eldest's lead...
She had come into our room the night she left. Creeping in through the slit of the door where a faint yellow light shone from the hallway… she knew she would find all three of us there. In our malleable state of wonder that only children so young could have.
I wasn't supposed to be in the older girl's room; I had my own room, but my mother knew I could never make it through the night without crawling into Daisy’s bed. So we were there, sleeping with one eye open waiting for something to wake us up. And she did; her specter offering such a dark pinch to our dreams that we all woke simultaneously and searched for each other in the darkness. Daisy took my fingers before our eyes were even open.
I blinked for my eyes so that they might take to the darkness of the room. I made out Mercy, her face blotted with a ruddy, purple shade from crying.
She was holding her wrists, crying.
I rarely saw my mother cry. She walked in a wavy line to Madison's bed. I could smell something astringent and bitter on her breath that reminded me of poison... I could smell it even from Daisy's bed...
I wasn’t afraid until Madison began to cry and reach up with her pink, child palms to my Mercy’s ruddy face. Mercy allowed her to grab on to her shirt and pull her down. The both of them crying. I clung to the end of Daisy’s nightgown… and she ran her hand down the side of my head. Daisy was so mature, then … she far surpassed my mother's ability to care for us -- to give us at least the illusion of her paternal assurance.
"He pushed me…" Mercy sobbed letting her shoulders shake into Madison’s four-year old frame. Madison held her there… suddenly Maddy was the frame bearing my mother’s strange prostration.
Daisy stood and walked over to my mother. Her little girl body standing as tall as the mightiest amazon woman about to bear a great and terrible army of dark knights.... Daisy had told me that night she wanted to be an Amazon princess when she grew up.
I decided to stay still… sometimes Mercy became upset when too many people were around her, especially when upset.
Daisy put a protective hand on Mercy’s leg. "Who pushed you?" she asked like some young Sherlock Holmes. Poor Daisy was trying to solve the problem again.
I looked at my mother and felt unsettled… too young to know what it was to be aware of one’s intuition… and yet more aware then, of my conscience than in the years to come.
Mercy cried for a few moments unable to answer… she just kept on chanting this horrible fact…
"He pushed me…"
"…He pushed me…"
"He pushed me…"
Daisy turned to stare at me in bewilderment. What else were we to do? Mercy never seemed this way, and yet as the eldest of us was only just 5… should we have seen her this way?
Madison started to whimper under the weight of Mercy. "Mommy…" her voice cooed like the birds that played hopscotch in our backyard.
"Daddy pushed me…Daddy pushed mommy down the stairs." She wailed, touching Daisy on the shoulder. "Daddy pushed Mommy and hurt Mommy."
Madison began to cry, and I too felt a stab of pain in the center of my thoughts that sat behind my ribs. I didn’t even understand really what it was to push someone… and I didn’t understand why Mercy was grabbing her wrist with such a grimace on her face. My lip quivered, and I felt warm tears fall down my face… Dad never hurt us. I just sat and played with the lace that lined the end of my nightgown, trying hard to focus on the care bears printed on the comforter that surrounded me instead of the tender scene happening in front of me.
Daisy shook her head, "No…" she whispered.
Mercy nodded her head… "Yes, he did, Daisy," Mercy insisted with her swollen wrist. She was screaming now. She grabbed Daisy by the shoulders and starting thrashing her around. I found myself screaming. Daisy started to cry as well as she worked against my mother's aggression.
I just wanted it all to go away and for me to fall back asleep.
The door swung open, and my father stood in its threshold.
I heard Madison scream. Scream so loudly even Daisy covered her ears. I saw Madison abandon Mercy and jump into Daisy's bed with me. We held each other, sobbing - afraid what Dad would do.
He took a step forward and I heard a shrill scream of terror peal from my lips… Daisy was alone in the middle of the floor!
"Daisy!" I screamed.
Daisy stared up at Dad and protectively threw her arms out to cover Mercy, who had let Daisy go with surprise.
My dear, dear father looked so confused....
so when Daisy started calling her Mercy, Madison and I just followed the eldest's lead...
She had come into our room the night she left. Creeping in through the slit of the door where a faint yellow light shone from the hallway… she knew she would find all three of us there. In our malleable state of wonder that only children so young could have.
I wasn't supposed to be in the older girl's room; I had my own room, but my mother knew I could never make it through the night without crawling into Daisy’s bed. So we were there, sleeping with one eye open waiting for something to wake us up. And she did; her specter offering such a dark pinch to our dreams that we all woke simultaneously and searched for each other in the darkness. Daisy took my fingers before our eyes were even open.
I blinked for my eyes so that they might take to the darkness of the room. I made out Mercy, her face blotted with a ruddy, purple shade from crying.
She was holding her wrists, crying.
I rarely saw my mother cry. She walked in a wavy line to Madison's bed. I could smell something astringent and bitter on her breath that reminded me of poison... I could smell it even from Daisy's bed...
I wasn’t afraid until Madison began to cry and reach up with her pink, child palms to my Mercy’s ruddy face. Mercy allowed her to grab on to her shirt and pull her down. The both of them crying. I clung to the end of Daisy’s nightgown… and she ran her hand down the side of my head. Daisy was so mature, then … she far surpassed my mother's ability to care for us -- to give us at least the illusion of her paternal assurance.
"He pushed me…" Mercy sobbed letting her shoulders shake into Madison’s four-year old frame. Madison held her there… suddenly Maddy was the frame bearing my mother’s strange prostration.
Daisy stood and walked over to my mother. Her little girl body standing as tall as the mightiest amazon woman about to bear a great and terrible army of dark knights.... Daisy had told me that night she wanted to be an Amazon princess when she grew up.
I decided to stay still… sometimes Mercy became upset when too many people were around her, especially when upset.
Daisy put a protective hand on Mercy’s leg. "Who pushed you?" she asked like some young Sherlock Holmes. Poor Daisy was trying to solve the problem again.
I looked at my mother and felt unsettled… too young to know what it was to be aware of one’s intuition… and yet more aware then, of my conscience than in the years to come.
Mercy cried for a few moments unable to answer… she just kept on chanting this horrible fact…
"He pushed me…"
"…He pushed me…"
"He pushed me…"
Daisy turned to stare at me in bewilderment. What else were we to do? Mercy never seemed this way, and yet as the eldest of us was only just 5… should we have seen her this way?
Madison started to whimper under the weight of Mercy. "Mommy…" her voice cooed like the birds that played hopscotch in our backyard.
"Daddy pushed me…Daddy pushed mommy down the stairs." She wailed, touching Daisy on the shoulder. "Daddy pushed Mommy and hurt Mommy."
Madison began to cry, and I too felt a stab of pain in the center of my thoughts that sat behind my ribs. I didn’t even understand really what it was to push someone… and I didn’t understand why Mercy was grabbing her wrist with such a grimace on her face. My lip quivered, and I felt warm tears fall down my face… Dad never hurt us. I just sat and played with the lace that lined the end of my nightgown, trying hard to focus on the care bears printed on the comforter that surrounded me instead of the tender scene happening in front of me.
Daisy shook her head, "No…" she whispered.
Mercy nodded her head… "Yes, he did, Daisy," Mercy insisted with her swollen wrist. She was screaming now. She grabbed Daisy by the shoulders and starting thrashing her around. I found myself screaming. Daisy started to cry as well as she worked against my mother's aggression.
I just wanted it all to go away and for me to fall back asleep.
The door swung open, and my father stood in its threshold.
I heard Madison scream. Scream so loudly even Daisy covered her ears. I saw Madison abandon Mercy and jump into Daisy's bed with me. We held each other, sobbing - afraid what Dad would do.
He took a step forward and I heard a shrill scream of terror peal from my lips… Daisy was alone in the middle of the floor!
"Daisy!" I screamed.
Daisy stared up at Dad and protectively threw her arms out to cover Mercy, who had let Daisy go with surprise.
My dear, dear father looked so confused....