Border Line
Without Prejudice
It seemed like she was as mad as a cut snake. She arrived angry , 4 dirty little kids in the car. the car totalled at the front by a bounding kangaroo, smashing in the headlight and front quarter panel. Boyfriend no where to be seen and she sported a black eye. I told her she couldn't stay and she took off like a rocket. Furious and screaming obscenities at me.
All that way she had come 1,100 miles and I had told her not to. But up she came from down south and hoped to stay with me but I didn't want her there, I had no room for starters for her and 4 small kids, and she was off her dial on something, whether it was speed or madness I wasn't sure. All I saw was my Mother reincarnated, mad, injured and spewing fiflth at the world and at me.
I'd had enough of her antics, wanted to get away from that futile and dirty life. It seemed like forever that I had been running, running from a past too painful to bear, looking for another fresh start another new beginning and I was exhausted with worry. Fed up with the old life and wanted new, clean, fresh. I couldn't help but worry about the boys, the little boys she had so easily and wanted so little.
I was at work the next day and she came to front reception, I went out there when called by the receptionist, and looked at her steadily. She was with some older boys and I asked where the kids were. She was dressed as biker chick that day, chains clanking on her denim jeans, leather jacket and hair wild. She clomped away on biker boots and I heaved a sigh of relief.
But she was back the next day, dressed as Supermodel with tight colourful print dress, high heels and her hair smooth, makeup perfect. The receptionist never said a word and pretended to be reading as Mother and daughter conversed. I tried to keep her calm, she had bought the rubbish that day, in a bag. I told her to take it away and she did, once again clomping away to the hall and the lifts.
Again the next day as Surfer girl, with tight denim shorts and hippy op, casual shoes this time and long brown legs. She looked as normal as normal can be but she was not, she was nuts. I told her to come back when I finished work and she was back right on five and we talked. Nothing she said making sense. She kept saying, yeah Yeah like the man on the hair ads for balding men.
I slowed down my speech and faced her calmly as she could get agitated in an instant, a split second, a hairs breath away from screaming. She was agitated at times and others calm. I tried to reach into her and make her well again, but she pulled away from me and ran across the road into the traffic and my heart stopped for an instant. But I stayed calm and didn't follow her, just went to my car and went home.
That night she was back,
"I love him you know,", she said, even though he had given her a black eye. she had been to the Hospital and the Police but noone would help she said. I asked her where were the boys and she looked at me vaguely,
"At debbies", she said. Flints firing from her eyes waiting for me to defy her, waiting for me to say the wrong thing, the things that she didn't want to hear.
She stayed that night and as she lay on the floor her face was a death mask and I wondered how I would bear it if she died, she was all of 37 kilos and it showed in every part of her "boned out" face. She looked like a skeleton and I couldn't stand it and looked away. She insisted on going to the Train, the one she called Thomas, that was a relic that sat on the foreshore of Southport. She thought she was going mad and I was sure of it. And still the little boys were nowhere to be seen.
She returned again that night, alone, no boys, and once again she went to the train with a 17 year old boy, called daniel. She called him Daniel San, number one son. They went there to smoke and relax and sometimes she came back and others she didn't. She must have gone to Debbies house then, Daniels Foster Mum and looked in on the boys.
The boys were so little then, aged from 2 to 11. They stayed at the house of the kindly Deb as their Mum passed in and out of episodes. She insisted she had been to where I was staying before and I didn't at first beleive her. But she showed me her name written in the concrete out the front. Concrete that had been there for years. She was excited to find it and she turned to me and said,
"I told you I asn't crazy"
From that moment on she started to get better. I persuaded her to return down south and take the boys and she did. I was following within the month and I would help to look after her. And for the time being I asked my ex husband to keep an eye on her for the boys sake. he in turn rang DHS and had the boys taken off her and we then had to fight to get them back.
To be continued
It seemed like she was as mad as a cut snake. She arrived angry , 4 dirty little kids in the car. the car totalled at the front by a bounding kangaroo, smashing in the headlight and front quarter panel. Boyfriend no where to be seen and she sported a black eye. I told her she couldn't stay and she took off like a rocket. Furious and screaming obscenities at me.
All that way she had come 1,100 miles and I had told her not to. But up she came from down south and hoped to stay with me but I didn't want her there, I had no room for starters for her and 4 small kids, and she was off her dial on something, whether it was speed or madness I wasn't sure. All I saw was my Mother reincarnated, mad, injured and spewing fiflth at the world and at me.
I'd had enough of her antics, wanted to get away from that futile and dirty life. It seemed like forever that I had been running, running from a past too painful to bear, looking for another fresh start another new beginning and I was exhausted with worry. Fed up with the old life and wanted new, clean, fresh. I couldn't help but worry about the boys, the little boys she had so easily and wanted so little.
I was at work the next day and she came to front reception, I went out there when called by the receptionist, and looked at her steadily. She was with some older boys and I asked where the kids were. She was dressed as biker chick that day, chains clanking on her denim jeans, leather jacket and hair wild. She clomped away on biker boots and I heaved a sigh of relief.
But she was back the next day, dressed as Supermodel with tight colourful print dress, high heels and her hair smooth, makeup perfect. The receptionist never said a word and pretended to be reading as Mother and daughter conversed. I tried to keep her calm, she had bought the rubbish that day, in a bag. I told her to take it away and she did, once again clomping away to the hall and the lifts.
Again the next day as Surfer girl, with tight denim shorts and hippy op, casual shoes this time and long brown legs. She looked as normal as normal can be but she was not, she was nuts. I told her to come back when I finished work and she was back right on five and we talked. Nothing she said making sense. She kept saying, yeah Yeah like the man on the hair ads for balding men.
I slowed down my speech and faced her calmly as she could get agitated in an instant, a split second, a hairs breath away from screaming. She was agitated at times and others calm. I tried to reach into her and make her well again, but she pulled away from me and ran across the road into the traffic and my heart stopped for an instant. But I stayed calm and didn't follow her, just went to my car and went home.
That night she was back,
"I love him you know,", she said, even though he had given her a black eye. she had been to the Hospital and the Police but noone would help she said. I asked her where were the boys and she looked at me vaguely,
"At debbies", she said. Flints firing from her eyes waiting for me to defy her, waiting for me to say the wrong thing, the things that she didn't want to hear.
She stayed that night and as she lay on the floor her face was a death mask and I wondered how I would bear it if she died, she was all of 37 kilos and it showed in every part of her "boned out" face. She looked like a skeleton and I couldn't stand it and looked away. She insisted on going to the Train, the one she called Thomas, that was a relic that sat on the foreshore of Southport. She thought she was going mad and I was sure of it. And still the little boys were nowhere to be seen.
She returned again that night, alone, no boys, and once again she went to the train with a 17 year old boy, called daniel. She called him Daniel San, number one son. They went there to smoke and relax and sometimes she came back and others she didn't. She must have gone to Debbies house then, Daniels Foster Mum and looked in on the boys.
The boys were so little then, aged from 2 to 11. They stayed at the house of the kindly Deb as their Mum passed in and out of episodes. She insisted she had been to where I was staying before and I didn't at first beleive her. But she showed me her name written in the concrete out the front. Concrete that had been there for years. She was excited to find it and she turned to me and said,
"I told you I asn't crazy"
From that moment on she started to get better. I persuaded her to return down south and take the boys and she did. I was following within the month and I would help to look after her. And for the time being I asked my ex husband to keep an eye on her for the boys sake. he in turn rang DHS and had the boys taken off her and we then had to fight to get them back.
To be continued
