A GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP
Maya Khankhoje
They were looking at the doll house, their noses stuck to the foggy window pane. Charles was standing right beside them, shaking his head. I tried to speak, but no sound came from my throat, so I decided to go to them, to explain to them that I was trapped in the doll house and the reason they couldn’t see me was because the lights were out. I told my body to move, but it refused to budge. Strange, because I was not asleep. How could I be asleep! I clearly remember how I walked around the living room and tried to move the furniture around, but something wasn’t right. There was something wrong in the living room. I made an inventory of the furniture, it was all there, down to the horrid pink plastic rug that we had bought in a garage sale just after we got married. When I had tried to move the furniture around, I realized someone had already moved it. I tripped and hurt my knee. It still hurts. I know I am not asleep. Why can’t I move my body then? Where am I? Ah, yes, in the doll house in the garden. Funny, I don’t remember our apartment in Montreal having a garden. No, we can’t have a garden because we live on the third floor. Did we move to the ground floor? When did that happen? I don’t remember.
Why aren’t they coming to me? Ah, yes, how stupid of me, the French window is locked! Charles, for heaven’s sake, why don’t you open the door so the girls can come see me! How annoying can you get! Can’t you see that I am locked up in this doll house and you have to come fetch me! Charles, listen, you either open up the door or I’ll scream! Can’t you hear me! Let me shriek so you can hear me loud and clear! Ever since you took up with that stupid Pauline your brain has turned to mush. And look at you! What kind of a father are you! Letting the girls stand right there in their thin nighties and no housecoat. And look at their feet, no slippers. Go put something on them. Or better still, get them back to bed. By the way, why are the three of you up to? Shouldn’t you be in bed? Look at me, I’m not sleeping, I’m cleaning up the doll house that Uncle Bill gave me for my birthday last year when I turned seven. "Seven years old and with a house of her own," is what Uncle Bill said when he gave me the house and turned on the little lights. What do you mean, you’ve never met Uncle Bill? But of course, you couldn’t have, because he died just before I went to high school. He died right in our house, after eating a heavy dinner and his heart burst with all the digesting and mummy says that’s why you should never to bed on a full stomach.
Where are the lights in the doll house? How come they don’t work? How come the garden is dark? Turn the lights on, Charles, do something. Come fetch me, why have you all locked me up in here, I am not crazy, you are the one who’s crazy with your male menopause and all that fawning by those silly students of yours has gone to your head. Jean, Marianne, I can’t move, come get mummy please. No, I am not crazy, who says I’m crazy! OK, yes, maybe I am crazy, but it is your father who drove me crazy and now you are taking his side and blaming it on me.
So you think that locking me up in this doll house is going to take care of your life, Charles? Well, you’ve got it all wrong, my dear, all wrong. You aren’t so young yourself, you know. Your hairline is receding and your paunch is showing and besides, you’ve missed the boat. You are not going to get the tenure you were expecting, you know. Not with all this publish or perish nonsense in the universities. Where is Marianne? Why is she crying? Who is shrieking? What a horrible noise, shut the window, stop, stop . . .
"Nana, Nana, wake up, please, Nana, you are having a bad dream".
"Marianne, is that you?"
"No, Nana, don’t you know me? I’m Mary, mummy went to the store, she’ll be back soon".
"Where is Charles?"
"Poor Nana, don’t you remember? Popa had a heart attack and they buried him just yesterday and you and mummy and Aunt Jean put some flowers on his coffin. You were crying and crying so much that the doctor gave you some medicine so you could have a good night’s sleep. That’s exactly what he said. Don’t cry, Nana, why don’t you come and play with me in the doll house? I’m so sad, Popa had promised to fix the lights."
THE END