Rain Tree Crow - Pocket Full Of Change

...

Lennie.

Or, if I could say right on her face... Mom.

Thinking about it, she sure is beautiful, on the way daddy speaks of her. Even with that belly, huge by now, prominently becoming the detail that hides the small ones, like those purple eyes, or that silver hair, wrapped like a ponytail with an orange ribbon, akin to the one tied into that tail, and my tail as well.

Geez... Why do I feel this way? Can't I just tell how I feel? How 'I' feel... I had been calling her 'Lennie', yet what does that ever mean? A sort of mockery? Why only now did I come to realize such?

Argh... I can't even grim these teeth without she noticing them with those eyes. I need those eyes to notice me, somehow. Yet, I want her to notice my words too. Not those words, but... I am speechless of words I never had the time to tell. Some I don't even know yet. 'Lennie', As much as I, stands quiet, briefly to say so. I can see whenever a question may come in, to be uttered by those lips. Mouth, I mean. Those lips are for daddy, and only. A mouth belongs to anyone else; however, am I anyone else to her? Of course not.

— So it was you who had been knocking the door before, Jack? – She asked. I agreed with a nod, and a look on her face.

— Yeah. Are you deaf? – Maybe I could have said 'yes' instead, but I couldn't. I don't know why, or maybe I do know. I already know why. At least, I made a signal for Lennie, proving that I was alive, even in the most offensive way. I had a reason to be upset.

— I was not expecting you'd come, Jack. I was taking a bath and it took a hard time to find a dress that fit in the wardrobe. – Lennie said, and now I feel awful. – I guess I can trust your scent, after all. – She said, looking into another direction, to the kitchen, instead of a straight look into my face, like before. Her nose sniffed, or maybe she just breathed, as usual.

— Why did it take you so long to open the door? Are you that fat? – I said, without thinking about my words. They just came out of my dirty mouth.

— Jack… – And Lennie stared at me with cold eyes. So cold I feel the rain freezing me.

— Lennie, you left me waiting. Oh… I'm sorry. – I feel like an idiot. That's why I knocked on the door, in the first place. But, speaking about how I said it... I said it on a desperate way, on a way I did needed to know why that door hadn't been opened yet, unlike how I do used to not bother, to not give a damn about anything, but I said just because I felt the need to do it so, like now, but I never sounded that... soft by now? There may be another word that means the same, but better.

— I had been busy, Jack. – Lennie just said, quickly as she noticed Fratley, glanced at him, and turned his head to the kitchen. Also, she scratched that nose, carefully due to the size of those nails, and with the same hand, and nails, she scratched the back of her neck, until that head had been turned to the kitchen, same instant that same hand ended up laying above that stomach, all done after another. So busy that she didn't even look at me... Well, she did. For an instant.

— Sniff, sniff... What a wonderful smell! – Said Fratley, who had been sniffing with that nose of his. I didn't even notice, until I turned my head to his, like Lennie did, and still is doing, to the kitchen's direction, which is just the opposite direction of Fratley's, whose direction is near the kailyard of my house.

— Boy, that's only hot water and salt. I haven't prepared anything yet. – Lennie giggled.

That face had been kept on same way, looking at the kitchen's direction, except for a brief turn taken by those eyes, after those ears heard of Fratley's voice, and words of praise, who suggested that her cooking skills were amazing enough; that the food about to be prepared, as it seemed to be, tasted good even before they went inside that bowl. Lennie left a smile as well. A smile unlike her turn, who only lasted briefly. Though, she remained a bit worried, like before, even with that smile. How easy it is to make someone smile, don't you think, Jack? No, I don't.

— I wonder what shall be prepared for lunch... – I said, and also wondered. Given that there was nothing, anything being cooked inside that bowl, I guess Lennie was worried about what she needed to cook, in the first place. Or if I would be punished for calling Lennie fat and deaf.

— The usual, Jack – ...Vegetables once again. Punishment for you.

I know, and Lennie knows. I may not like them, but as Fratley said, I'll try to chew them with my teeth, without letting my tongue touch a single leaf. Lennie didn't even look at me, not even a bit. At least, she heard me, but ears can hear anyone, looking through or not. Once again, I saw that look on her face.

It was like Lennie did know what to do next, yet she didn't want to, or had been worried about it. I know Lennie is truly worried not because of her expressions, but the way she acts… Her arms may not be crossed upon that chest, but at least, there's an arm there, and how often she puts that same arm there.

My brother, who is below that arm, that chest, is a reason for Lennie to be worried about. Not that she is worried because of my brother and only. She is also worried about me as well. I know she is, always has been. This morning, the morning of yesterday, the day before yesterday... so many days. I've had this feeling before, but I just rejected it. I threw it away, yet I want them back. But there's time to do many things, and less time to do all things.

Now it seems to be lunch time, yet there's no such lunch at the table, but hot water, and a bit of salt, where food used to be prepared. Still it is prepared in the same way, to be later served on the same dishes. Well, only two had been served above the table. But today, it seems there'll be three dishes, or so that the kid's stomach hurled, even if I couldn't hear of such, but Lennie sure did hear it.

Since Lennie knows about Fratley's mother, the same goes for Dan's mother, she allowed him to share a dish, and a seat as well, for later. So we, myself included Fratley, came inside that house, crossing between Lennie's legs, who, like the door, had opened it to allow us to get inside. He just ate pancakes and wants more? Gee…

I didn't have any reason to run, unlike Fratley, who already reserved a seat for him. Funny though, because I am an only child, and yet, there are like five, six chairs, each one with four legs, waiting for someone to sit at them, and by these someones, now it remains only two of us, each one with six legs in total, counting my little brother. Before, there were once three of us, each one with six legs in total; I hope daddy didn't lose a leg, or an arm, for good. By the way, I already sat into all of these chairs, Fratley.

It was raining outside, as usually had been for an eternity, but who else to care, other than those who had been there? Though, this house is under the rain as well. Only the ceiling gets soaked, as we stand in there, drying up, or trying to do so. The wind also dries the clothes hanging into that line outside, although in the end, they all get soaked anyway, like those vegetables, and fruits hanging in that kailyard, where Lennie soon will be, to collect pieces of our lunch.

Now I do know why she had been so worried. Lennie thought that I wouldn't come back, or maybe she thought that I would, but then, what would I do next? Ask her about any kind of food? Did I ever ask her that I wanted a bit of watercress to be served anyway? I guess I didn't. Not even now.

An empty basket is lying above this table, as are forks, knives, spoons, dishes and our hands. That basket used to be filled in by any kind of vegetables, or leaves belonging to them. Leaves of cabbages, roots of carrots, stems of potatoes, fruits of tomatoes, tiny cherries, seeds of beans... a variety of food served on a single dish, which had been all empty by now, like that basket. Lennie also noticed it, and as she came near us, near the table, I raised that basket, so I could deliver it to her hands.

— Thank you. – She said. I think I deserved way more than a mere 'thank you', seeing how Lennie stood in that same position. She didn't even turn her back so she could hold that same basket on her arm. I recall she once said that her back hurted, or maybe she didn't ever said it after all.

I saw her back hurt, back that day, and today as well. As if that chest, and that back weren't enough, Lennie's ankles were a bit swollen, but a bit had been enough for me to notice them, on both feet. So, Lennie couldn't turn her back, because of how painful it was to do so, and those bubble feets must be painful as well, although she keeps standing anyway.

I follow Lennie, to where she goes, the kailyard outside this house, because she doesn't seem to be okay. Never had she been kind of 'okay', but 'fine' instead. Or so she insists, and still does, even without words, that she is fine. Fratley stood on that same chair, knowing that Lennie wasn't alright as well. He looked at me, as if he had been saying 'your turn' with those eyes. Fratley had no idea of what to do next, other than put a piece of food into that mouth, who stood quiet, unlike that stomach only Lennie could hear, like any other of her kind. She's a kind of mother. My mother.

If I could, at least, find a way to say that, on her face. Of all the things I said to her, none of them had ever sounded like this word. Yes, this word. So near to me, yet faraway, yet so close. I wished that I could be near Lennie, like that basket, but also that I could be more than what that basket does for Lennie. To be holded by those arms, and also to hold the same arm with my own.

From the front door, a few steps, I came to where she is, and so we stood on the same soil, same position. Speaking of position, Lennie only stands on that position, like a statue does, but she isn't dead yet to turn into one. Although she is already gray, like they all seem to be, like a dead does seem to be.

Besides the rain, I felt a tiny strand of hair falling upon me. A white strand, belonging to that same white hair. That thing fell like a leaf, once again, into me. Atop my nose, to later fall into the ground... Like how a tree does when Autumn comes, because Lennie isn't bald like a tree in winter, like many trees by now, though the white in the ground slowly starts to come in when winter comes.

The rain seems colder than usual, yet I do feel a kind of warmth, and aching of the same level as well. I can't even speak to Lennie... It's like there's a mirror between us, and I am the bird who cannot see them. I know it, because a bird once had gotten his head beaten into my bedroom's window. If I had left that window open, maybe that bird wouldn't have died that day.

However, there is no such mirror on the ground beneath my feet, Lennie's feet. As I said, she can't even turn that back, without feeling that pain, unlike how I do keep crouched, digging in the dirt with these tiny claws, of tiny hands, to find some potatoes, carrots, any kind of onion, to be put into that basket. I can also take some okras and lettuce, cabbages, tomatoes, those kinds that I do not even have the need to dig to find and take them to that basket. But they are unreachable for Lennie as well. She does keep watching me, and these actions of mine, in the same position as before. No kind of 'thank you' had been uttered this time, because Lennie, as much as I, went speechless as well.

I know I have the touch, and I had been wanting some contact all this time. I know I'll be served a good lunch, because the same had been made by a good mother like you. If, at least, I could say that to you, instead of looking at you, and thinking that I once had said that to you once upon a lifetime.