Wake up, Maggie, wake up! The little girl cried out to her mother; loud enough to be heard but not to shock. She climbed on the windowsill and opened the blinds to deliver her message. We’ll miss the bus and be late for school again if you don’t.
Oh-h-h, her mother groaned, tossing a forearm over her eyes. Who opened the shades?
They don’t want me coming to school alone anymore and the doorman says he’s not a babysitter. The child jumped down from the sill. I’ve eaten my breakfast and made coffee for you. She stood beside her mother’s bed, looking more over than at her. Maggie didn’t move.
There’s too much sun! Why is the light so loud? Oh-h-h…Her mother groaned again, but this time it sounded more human. He walks people’s dogs for God’s sake, why can’t the doorman take you to school? Lots of words; Maggie was coming-to at last. The child ran from the room, and returning with a mug of coffee steadied carefully in both hands, she tried not to push it at her mother too fast.
Light can’t be noisy Maggie; it’s bright. You’re just all mixed up since you got in from your party this morning. She held the mug out. Smell how good it is. I’ll help you get dressed if you’ll sit up. Oh Maggie, please.
Her mother opened one eye and looked at the mug. You’re a good girl, she muttered. I don’t need my clothes. Just bring me a raincoat and some shoes; and sun glasses. I need protection.
They made the school bus that day; just barely. But there were plenty of days they didn’t.
Four years later, when she’d passed her tenth birthday and she wasn’t so little anymore (though she was never very big), she could go places on her own without people asking how she got there and who brought her. She worried about Maggie when she had to leave home before her mother was awake. She thought about her during the day, but she got busy with friends and school work; so sometimes she forgot to do the shopping on the way home, which meant she went hungry or ate Cheerios for dinner. Maggie never seemed to notice much before she got ready for her evening parties or a date; which was good. She didn’t want her mother worrying about her; that would only make Maggie feel bad about herself.
There was a fight between her grandparents and Maggie one night when she was supposed to be doing her homework. She listened to it sitting on the floor behind the door. She knew Maggie was hurt without seeing her. What kind of a freak are you, her grandmother shrieked at Maggie. Do you think because you live on Park Avenue it isn’t abuse?
If you only had a husband…a man to take care of you both… she heard her grandfather mutter. He made it sound like it was Maggie’s fault she didn’t.
The way you took care of Mother and me? From behind the door, it sounded like Maggie was strangling. Men don’t take care of women; it’s the other way around; and I can handle life alone with my daughter just fine. I’m better than the hired strangers who raised me.
You can’t handle anything, least of all life and your daughter! Her grandmother was yelling louder than ever. I’ve a mind to report you to the authorities.
Leave us alone, Maggie commanded. We don’t need anyone; least of all you, Mother. You’re much too late.
Oh, Maggie… she heard her grandfather breathe out in a sigh. Maggie, Maggie, Maggie…she could tell he was shaking his head in disappointment; giving up hope for Maggie.
Then I just don’t care anymore. Do what you want. You’re on your own. That declaration from her grandmother would upset Maggie most of all, she knew.
Please don’t not care, she whispered to the air behind the door. Please!
That was the last time she saw her grandmother in their apartment on Park Avenue when Maggie was home, though she still went out to the zoo with both grandparents, and sometimes the Planetarium or even the skating rink. She wished she could bring them back home with her for Maggie’s sake, or tell Maggie they’d always care, really. But of course she couldn’t. She wasn’t supposed to eavesdrop and most of all she understood she wasn’t supposed to understand. She tried to make up for that fight all the time in the years that followed, in any way she could.
Now, here she was, a grown woman with a husband who said he loved her and two small children who seemed happy. He promised to take care of her in sickness and in health and the children promised to be good. They had a roof over their heads and plenty to eat and wear and share, but she was scared nonetheless; scared all the time. Cancer had stolen Maggie and she didn’t know how she was going to survive without her. Where was her mother when she needed her most? She might not need a man to take care of her but she did need her mother. Everybody needs a mother, no matter who they are. But she didn’t have one anymore, so now, who was she?
Oh Maggie…
By Sidney S. Stark