Stone Angels
By tragicbeauty
- 202 reads
Your hands were so small gripping my thumb. Your eyes were so blue and
light I thought I could see right through them and look into your soul.
The doctor told me most children are born with blue eyes but don't stay
that way. No. My child has blue eyes. You were my fear. Your cries
haunted me in my sleep. You were too beautiful. You were always looking
at me, watching me, waiting for me to look at you. You were an ice
queen with eyes and skin as pale as the frost that had formed around my
heart. ~ "Have you decided what you would like to eat sir?" He looked
up at me with glassy blue eyes that seemed almost clear. His hair was
like sun filtering through leafy trees on a warm summer day. He swiped
the sun to the side of his face and almost whispered "I'll have the
chicken" He never broke eye contact with me as he spoke. As if ever
word he was saying was a separate and equally earth shattering
confession of love. I felt stupid and clumsy as I clomped away in my
heels, knowing he was watching every step I took. When I walked back,
precariously balancing his plate on top of a plastic tray, he closed a
book with a plain black cover that he had been scribbling in moments
earlier. "Anything else?" I asked him, maneuvering the plate from the
tray onto the paper place mat in front of him Again he looked at me
with a subtle ferocity that made me feel uncomfortable, but I didn't
want it to stop. When he looked at me it transformed the room into a
castle, lit by candles in sconces on the wall. There were rose petals
on the ground and incense in the air. "Just some coffee" he said. ~ We
walked through gardens thick with the scent of flowering roses and
poisonous oleanders. It felt as if the stars were shining down on us,
but the stars were shrouded from smog from the city. The garden seemed
impossibly beautiful. It was the hopeful seed in the middle of the big
apple. "Imagine what this place would be like if the city were never
built. This would be Eden." he said, looking up to the sky as if he
were looking through the smog to the stars. I wanted to see them too.
We walked past stone angels with long legs and wings open like arms
towards the starless night sky. He said I looked like them, but they
were so graceful, I felt anything but graceful still in my waitress
clothes. We walked until we were high from the solid humidity of rose
and jacaranda. We walked until the stone angels - who would look like
me if they wore short skirts and impractical shoes - seemed to follow
us as I walked with the forbidden apple of Eden. ~ My ice queen, when
you turned two you wore clear plastic shoes that squeaked on the
linoleum floor as you danced in the kitchen. I tried to stop you as you
twirled closer to the stove on which I was attempting to make lunch.
You began to lift your arms up above your head. You didn't realize it
hurt until I sprayed it with antiseptic. You screamed then. Your hands
were swollen with heat and flame and your eyes swollen with tears as
clear and pure as your two-year-old soul that had already seen horrors.
A week later, you danced again. ~ I came home from work and sat in
front of the TV until you came home from school. I was half waiting for
a phone call from him that I half knew wouldn't come. It was your first
day of school and you begged me to let you stay home. But I told you it
would be okay. You walked somberly through the door, your backpack
dragging behind you in one hand, your lunchbox in the other. You told
me the kids were so mean to you. I knew you were too beautiful. "It
will be okay." What more could I have said? ~ I went to his apartment
that same night we walked with the stone angels. It was filled with the
clean-dirt smell of paint, charcoal, and art. He told me to hold still
as he drew me as an angel with long legs and wings open like arms
towards a starless night sky. He looked in my eyes and we were in a
castle lit by candles in sconces on the wall. There were rose petals on
the floor and incense in the air. He showed me the picture and told me
I was an angel. ~ He told me he was sorry he filled me with you. He
promised he would help me raise you and take care of you, my ice queen.
But he started to fade. He told me he loved me but his voice was blank
and cold. He told me I was beautiful but he wouldn't look at me,
swollen with life. When he did look at me his eyes frightened me, they
were so void and heavy looking. Those eyes, they no longer turned the
room into a castle, they turned the room into what it was. A prison
with no windows to gaze at the hope I had lost. ~ You cried before I
told you he was dead. I remember hearing the doctor on the phone. He
sounded so tired, like it was such a pain in the ass for him to call me
and tell me the only man i had ever loved had killed himself, like it
was my fault. You were supposed to be asleep, upstairs in your room. I
heard you cry but I ignored you. All I could do was stare at the candle
in the sconce on the wall as it burned out. Your sobs turned into
frustrated cries. Why wasn't mommy coming to comfort you? I found his
book with the plain black cover; I turned to the picture of me as a
stone angel. With empty eyes I gazed down upon my own frosted soul he
had drawn for me. My blood turned to concrete. I couldn't move. My
wings, like arms, were frozen, reaching up past the starless night sky
to a man I once knew. I heard you tip-toeing down the stairs. Your
steps were so careful, you put both feet on each step before moving on
to the next. You were standing next to me with your arms, like wings
reaching up to me. I picked you up and sat you on my lap. The only tear
I had fell from my eye to the top of your head and sank into you hair,
the color of sun filtering through a leafy tree on a warm summer day.
You hugged me and said, "Its okay mommy." There we were, my ice queen
and I, like angels, no longer stone flying up to a starless night sky.
Together.
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