Chapter 6
Mrs. Anders lived on the floor above Boaz’s apartment. She was the one that had directed her to which one was his. She was the gnarled hand lady with the well decorated door. Mara slowed down and said to Cooper, “This lady is a bit fierce so behave and don’t get silly.”
“I’m never silly,” Cooper said indignantly.
As they climbed the last of the stairs the door to apartment 338 opened. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it,” said Mrs. Anders. She reached into her apartment and brought out a bucket with rags, windex, and car wash solution and handed it to them. They took them. “Let’s get to it,” she said in a no-nonsense voice.
She lead them to an older model car. Mara didn’t really know cars, but this one had a dark red color that was popular years ago. It was a four door sedan. “Get in and seat belt up. I’ll drive us to where you can wash it.”
Cooper and Mara exchanged glances. Was it safe? thought Mara. Miss Christina knows where we are and she wouldn’t put us in danger.
Mara nodded to Cooper and got in the passenger’s side and Cooper got it the back. Inside the car was scrupulously clean. The dashboard had a shine like it just been oiled.
“I did the inside this morning. You all will just need to do the outside.”
“It looks really nice,” ventured Mara.
Mrs. Anders drove them to a car wash place that had a wand that squirted water for about 10 minutes for 75 cents. She got out and organized the bucket and the rags. It took awhile because her hands couldn’t grasp things well.
“Here is how this is going to work. I put in 75 cents. You first fill the bucket,” she pointed to the empty, waiting bucket, “and then spray the car down really well until the water stops. Next, scrub the car down gently with the rags until it’s all clean then we spray it again and dry it off.” She gave them an evaluating look. “Do you understand?”
To Mara’s ears she sounded doubtful of their ability. “Yes, ma’am.” She nudged her brother.
“Yes, ma’am,” he parroted.
“All right let’s get started.” She handed the wand to Mara and she slowly fed the quarters into the machine. The force and roar of the blast surprised Mara and she almost dropped the wand. She managed to turn it toward the car. Mrs. Anders was yelling and pointing. Mara couldn’t quite hear her. She looked where she was pointing. The bucket. Oops, bucket first. She and Cooper managed to get the car cleaned to her satisfaction, but it took almost an hour and three more round of quarters. Getting back in the car Mrs. Anders said, “Try not to drip on the seats.” It was tough because the two them were pretty wet.
Once back at the Koberlyn Mrs. Anders gave them each $5. They scurried to their apartment to put on dry clothes. Cooper went back to the Brantley’s to play with Micah. Mara wanted to read her book from the library. She lay on the prickly couch in the living room. She tried to sink into her book, but it failed to capture her. Her mind drifted back to the happy lunch at the Brantley’s. Did believing in God give you that kind of happy family. That’s not what happened to Boaz and his family. Maybe they didn’t do it right. If she started believing in God would she get a happy family? Probably not because she would suck at believing. She looked up at the white ceiling. It seemed vast and empty. There was a small window that let in some weak winter sunshine. The hopeful morning was giving away to lonely, empty afternoon. She thought of her dad. She had texted with him earlier in the week. She had texted first. He was faithful to say that he loved her, but how did he love? He had asked how she was doing. She didn’t know how to tell him in text. What would her mom want her say? Did he know about the car trouble? She ended up saying, “OK. :-) Missing you.”
He texted back, “Miss you 2, little bit. Love you. Take care of Cooper. Gotta run.”
She had saved it. Proof her dad loved her. Right now on the couch it felt that her chest was slowly being compressed by the weight of the distance between her and . . . everyone. Tears started leaking out of her eyes and into her ears. She wished her mom would wake up and come in and find her crying. She might rub her back. Tell her it was going to be all right. Tell her the hard times would pass. She checked her cell phone. 3:30. Her mom wouldn’t be up for a least another hour. She was on her own.
Mara closed her eyes and imagined her family sitting around the table in Monterey eating a breakfast that her dad had used to make: omelet's and bacon. She pushed her thoughts into trying to smell the bacon. Hearing her mother high pitched laugh at something silly her brother had done She could almost hear her dad’s low rumbling chuckle beneath and she saw herself laughing amidst them. The California sun was coming in the dining room window lighting the room with yellow warmth. She could hear them. Next thing she knew she was dreaming. They were all still in the dining room, but the windows began to vibrate in their frames. Earthquake.
“Under the table,” her mother commanded as the whole room shook. Pieces of the ceiling started raining down breaking the plates and juice glasses. Her dad was in the kitchen trying to turn off the gas stove yelling at them to get under the table. Mara saw the cabinet fall from the wall and trap her dad to the floor. She tried to crawl to save him, but her mother held her leg and wouldn’t let her. Cooper rushed to help him. Ceiling parts and giant wooden beams fell on him. He didn’t move. Mara turned to tell her mother, but she was gone. The wall of the kitchen had fallen away taking her mother and Cooper with it. She was all alone. She closed her eyes and held on to the table leg. Finally the shaking stopped. She could hear voices. She tried to call to them to come help Cooper, but clouds of debris choked her. She couldn’t speak or move. Finally, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Mara, Mara.” Someone was shaking her shoulder.
She opened her eyes. Cooper was beside her. His face was scrunched into worried creases.
“Mara, are you okay?”
She was so relieved to see him. “Yes,” she mumbled rubbing her eyes, “bad dream.”
“You were whimpering like a puppy. Then you said my name.”
“I was dreaming of smothering you with a pillow.”
Cooper looked crestfallen, “Really?”
“No, don’t be a baby. Why did you wake me up?”
“Did you see who brought the present? We got another one. It was here when I got back.”
Mara sat up. “What is it?”
“I didn’t open it yet,” Cooper replied, “We should wait for mom.”
“She won’t be up for awhile. I can’t wait.”
“But it’s for all of us. We should wait and open it together—the three of us.”
We are three now. Even Cooper knew it. Suddenly she did have a strong urge to smother Cooper with a pillow or just hurt him. She grabbed the bag from him and pushed him so hard he fell down to the floor.
“Ow!” he yelled, “give that back. It’s not time yet.”
She held it out of his reach, “It not time yet,” she repeated in a mocking baby voice. “I always do what mom says. Everyone likes me. I have friends.” She set the gift bag into an incautious swing on her finger tips. It was heavy and there was a clinking sound from inside.
“Careful! You’ll drop it!”
“Careful,” Mara replied, “You’ll wake mom.”
“Mara,” Cooper lunged for the bag. Mara stepped out of his way.
“Oh, baby Cooper can’t reach the widdle bag. Is he going to cry?”
“No!” he shouted, “And I’m not a baby!” He lunged again for the bag. Mara whisked it once again out of his reach. “Why are you being so mean?” There were tears standing in his eyes. They made Mara angrier. At that moment Cooper tackled her and the gift bag flew from her fingers, sailing into the bedroom door where it crashed. There was the sound of something breaking.
The door burst open. Their mom was in old t-shirt of their father’s. Her hair was wrecked from sleeping. “What the hell?” she yelled. She looked down at the two of them on the floor. “Cooper, get off your sister.”
“It wasn’t me. She started it.”
“Well, I’m finishing it,” their mom threatened.
“That’s not fair . . .” Cooper started.
Their mom reached down to pick up the gift bag. “What’s this?” she started to say when the bottom fell out and the remains of three mugs and a bag of hot chocolate mix hit the floor again. The mugs broke into more pieces and the bag hit the floor and exploded sending a choking cloud of powered chocolate into the air and mostly on their mom’s legs and feet. It was epic.
No one said anything for several seconds. Years later Mara would think if only we could have laughed. It would have made all the difference. What happened was their mom went berserk. Screaming shattering words like, “Stupid brats. Aren’t things hard enough without you adding to it. Grow up.” She slapped Cooper for making the mess and then slapped Mara for trying to defend him.
“We want to go live with dad,” Mara yelled through her angry tears.
“He doesn’t want you,” their mom shot back, “When were we ever enough for him, Mara? When did he ever choose us over what he wanted to do? Which was drink himself stupid.”
It ended with their mom commanding, “Clean this up. I have to ready for work.” She went into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Cooper and Mara started cleaning with all the animation of zombies. The chocolate powder was in the carpet mixed in with mug shards.
“Do you want to get the vacuum while I pick up the big pieces,” Mara asked Cooper.
Cooper nodded. He didn’t look at her at all. His head down, he went to the living room closet to get their ancient vacuum. Mara got a plastic grocery sack and carefully picked up bits of mug. In the mess was a folded piece of paper:
Day 7 -
2 Cor 1:3-5 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.
I hope this hot chocolate not only warms your heart, but also gives you warm family memories together. The comfort hot chocolate gives isn’t equal to the comfort God can give us in our suffering. Christmas celebrates him coming as a baby, but he came to give us life and share in our sufferings. May Jesus comfort you in your sorrows this Christmas.
Your Secret Friend.
“Can I see?” Cooper asked. He read the note. He face grew fierce with anger. He started ripping it apart by the fistfuls like he was tearing the paper limb from limb. “God doesn’t care about us. He doesn’t care.” His voice was a hoarse whisper.
It made Mara cry again. Cooper was the hopeful one. Mara picked up the pieces of paper and put them in trash bag with the cups. Cooper stabbed the plug into the wall and began to savagely push the vacuum over the mess. Mara wanted to tell him to slow down, but he was too mad. Their mom came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and stomped past them into the bedroom. “Mara, you’ll have to open a can of spaghetti or something for dinner. I don’t have time,” she called over her shoulder.
“Yes, Mom.” She went into the kitchen and looked in the cupboard. Canned spaghetti. Gross. Her mom came out of bedroom in her uniform and her hair in a wet mess on top of her head.
“Will you two manage not kill each other while I’m gone?”
Cooper nodded and looked at Mara. She gave him a sad smile and nodded back.
“Good. I’m off tomorrow night, so maybe. . .” Their mom’s exhausted face gave a twist. She started crying. Cooper and Mara rushed to hug her glad for the chance to do something good.
“It will be okay, Mom,” Mara said as she stroked her back.
“Yeah, Mom,” Cooper piped up, “Were really sorry. We’ll be good.”
“I know, I know,” their mom kissed them on the head. She gave them a final squeeze. “I need to get the bus.” She was halfway out the door when she stopped and said, “It will be okay.” She gave them a final forced smile then left.
Mara made dinner. They ate it in front of the TV basking in its numbing comfort. Around 11 they cleaned the kitchen and went to bed. They interacted slowly, cautiously afraid to do anything that might increase the pain. Mara’s last thought as she fell asleep was did her dad really not want her? What was so wrong that her own dad didn’t want her?
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