Mumbles and muttering…
I catch snippets of Martha talking hurriedly to herself. Chatting away, I turn my head quickly. ‘What are you talking about? Probing and invasive. ‘Nothing’ she mumbles. It reminds me of when I was a teenager, muttering under my breath and being caught out, my parents invasive, what was I saying? Nothing important. Now as I hear her talk and talk and talk I insist with the same insistence my parents once had, I demand to know what she is talking about.
Nothing.. She grows angry that I want to know her secrets. She keeps them as guarded as possible from me, she mutters under breath, glancing up to check if I am watching. When I turn my head she stops talking, as if she has been caught in a lie. I turn back and from the corner of my eye I see her lips move, the words are falling from her soundless mouth as she tries to keep her conversation a secret.
I leave the space we are in, trapped in a car I tune out, I don’t want to listen to her chatter anymore, but something in me still wants to know her secrets, I turn the radio up to distract myself. Martha covers her ears. Her chatter becomes faster, more urgent, she is glancing up at me. I turn the music off, making a big deal of the action. She is relieved, it was too noisy she couldn’t hear herself talk. I grab for her hand and will her to squeeze back, I will her to know who I am, that I am of her blood. She quickly pulls her hand back, frantic in her talking.
We have arrived at my destination, Martha out of the car and inside quickly. Glad to be home I sense as checks her belongings, all there. She sits on her bed and I lean against the door frame, “Are you ok Mum?” She looks up and her smile is wide and bright, it is beaming and sunshiney and I bask in its warmth “mmmm.” She sighs
I make her a cup of tea and bring her something to eat, she sits in the chair she usually sits in, she looks content, satisfied. I look at her and give thanks, at last she knows she is home.