Words in Chaos

A weird but far too familiar smell hit her. Immediately followed by her son’s exclamation.

“Mom! Ella pooped again!”

No, not now. We are on our way out. Maybe she’s sick. No, please don’t be sick.

“Mama! Mama! It’s disgusting!”

Rushing over with her jeans still not buttoned, Martha tied her hair and looked at her already ready-to-go-out daughter. Bundled up in her winter jacket and her beanie almost covering her eyes, she looked up at her mother. There was an expression of relief, shame and discomfort on her face. Martha had to work hard not to let her frustration out on the two-year-old.

Potty training. I’m running behind. I really need to …

“Mommy?”

There was no time to think about the potty training now. If they wanted to make it out of the house on time, so she could drop off Leon at school and then Ella at daycare before heading to her shift at the petrol station, she needed to act quickly.

“Leon, double-check that you have everything packed for today. Lunchbox? Water bottle? Pencil case?”

“I already checked 5000 times.”

It was a grumble but Martha understood her son’s frustration. From Monday to Friday there was no morning which wasn’t chaotic. Of course only when she had the kids. As far as she knew when her ex-husband was in charge of the morning routine everything went smoothly without a hiccup. The kids would arrive on time, well dressed and prepared for their day.

The jacket’s zipper was stuck and by now her daughter’s discomfort was making her squirm, which made the task of getting her out of the jacket even worse.

“Ella, dear, just a second. We’ll clean you up in no time.”

Trying to sound gentle, not showing her impatience and frustration took every ounce of self-control she had left this morning.

I haven’t even brushed my teeth. Is there still gum in the car?

“Leon, you can go to the car. Here are the keys. Please bring Ella’s backpack as well.”

“It’s always me. You always only …”

“Leon, please. We’ll be late for school.”

If she'd had any doubts, he was his father's son, the expression on his face would have cleared them immediately. He just looked like Steven the last few years of their marriage – a mixture of disappointment, impatience and exasperation. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would have doubted that a six-year-old could make himself look like a forty-year-old working in finance.

Finally, the jacket was off. Martha threw the beanie in the corner and removed the boots which were fortunately only a warm version of wellingtons. No need to struggle through tying or opening shoelaces. Having removed several layers, the smell was even more pungent now and despite having dealt with so many diapers over the past years it still made her gag.

What did she eat?! We really need to start potty-training.

Despite the layers now everything went quickly and to her surprise Ella didn’t struggle but played along. Wiping her daughter’s bottom, tying and throwing away the soiled diapers and wet wipes went by in a flash.

“Ella, dear, mommy is going to wash her hands. Put on your shoes and the beanie, ok?”

Maybe her daughter sensed that her mother was on the edge of bursting into tears or she just wanted to show that she was a competent toddler, but she strutted out of the bathroom while Martha washed her hands and finally got the chance to button her jeans.

“Miss Alberton, we have talked about this so many times. Ella is the only one in the group who still can’t use the potty properly. There is only so much we can provide. If she doesn’t …”

“I know, Teacher Sandra, I know. We are really practicing a lot these days at home.”

Not looking at her daughter while she lied to the kindergarten teacher Martha felt like her stomach was filled with stones. Looking at the other woman’s expression, she knew that she wasn’t a good liar but the teacher was too busy to point it out.

“There are good books about potty-training as well. Picture books. Maybe that would encourage Ella to …”

“We will look at them. I’m sure you can find them in the library, right?”

“I will write down a few titles. It’s good that you go to the library with your kids. Not many parents these days manage to do so.”

Somehow the mention of the library had brought her back into Teacher Sandra’s good graces and Martha could feel her face heat up. She hadn't been to the library since 2nd grade and didn't even know the town had one.

“Well, I try my best.”

It was almost a whisper, her eyes downcast hoping that only she could feel the heat in her face and it wasn’t visible.

“Well, that’s already quite commendable. Come on now, Ella. Say bye to mama.”

Looking at her daughter, she managed to smile. When her daughter’s small arms wrapped around Martha, she felt an all too familiar stinging in her eyes. After blinking a few times, the tears were pushed back. She gave her daughter a few kisses on her rosy cheeks before rushing to the car which was still standing in front of the kindergarten warning lights flashing. The traffic police were called regularly to ensure parents like Martha didn't block the road. There had been two accidents that almost hurt children being dropped off or picked up.

They just shouldn’t have built it here. Who builds a daycare directly at a main road?

With these thoughts she switched off the signal lights, buckled up her seatbelt and joined the morning traffic in the direction of her workplace. Just then the radio DJ announced the time before the news and to her surprise if there wasn’t an accident she would arrive at work on time today.

The time dragged on and Martha had to stifle a yawn. Peter was out talking to the truck driver managing the petrol delivery. As Martha had been working at the petrol station only for around a year she didn’t have to deal with the truck drivers. The regular deliveries for the store were also usually handled by either Peter or his son Sorben. Due to the delivery there was no customer at the station and Martha looked around to find something to do.

Appear busy, otherwise Peter will tell me again that I’m actually not needed.

There was a constant threat looming over her head that Peter might let her go on a whim. Due to her status as a single mother, it had been difficult to find work in the first place. The job center had only reluctantly helped her. With a shudder Martha thought about those dragging conversations with several different counselors at the center. Steven had always told her how worthless she was. When she mentioned looking for a job, he'd been against it. Over and over again she had tried to escape his grasp and then she had gotten pregnant with Leon.

Wiping the coffee station with a damp towel she wondered if it would have been different if her parents had been more supportive. They had supported Steven’s decisions and put him on a pedestal the moment they met him.

Rubbing vigorously on a spot which was perfectly clean she looked up when a blast of cold air hit her. With the gust of air heavily laden with the smell of petrol came in Peter the truck driver in tow.

Ah, it’s Irvin today.

While the men talked about the rising petrol prizes as well some standard grumbly comments about the current political situation Martha tried to appear busy to not earn her boss’s scorn. Sorting through some of the receipts and making sure that there wasn’t a speck of dust on the cashier she eventually saw two cars arrive at the pumps outside. This was the cue for Irvin to finish his conversation and with a curt nod and wave in her direction Martha and her boss were left alone in the small kiosk.

“It’s the four and the seven. Make sure to double check Misses Hartwig’s money.”

Misses Hartwig was almost eighty years old but was convinced that driving her small rickety car around town was her God-given right. This wouldn’t have been a problem if she hadn’t been responsible for most of the traffic accidents which happened in town. At the same time, Martha had heard her say that she would only hand in her driver’s license over her dead body.

The way she’s driving that will be sooner rather than later.

The moment she had finished the thought the old lady entered the kiosk.

“Good morning, Misses Hartwig. How are you?”

A polite smile plastered on her face Martha looked in the grey woman’s direction, hoping that there wouldn’t be any issues with her today. Peter was right to warn her about the old lady again. It wasn’t just her way of driving which made her hard to deal with.

Please be in a good mood today.

Checking the screen, she saw that the small car hadn’t gotten the full tank filled up.

Maybe her pension has run out. It is the end of the month.

“Well, as good as it can be, my dear. The Four, please.”

As she reached the counter a whiff of heavily sweet perfume mixed with a strange combination of body odor and a light smell of urine hit Martha’s nose. This time it was the artificial smell which almost had her gag. So she focused on the cashier and announced the amount which Misses Hartwig had to know about.

“Bloody expensive these days. Might have to sell good old Louie to keep driving. But then I wouldn’t have anything to drive around.”

A cheeky smile flashed over the old wrinkly face and for a moment Martha was surprised how the face of such an aged person could look as mischievous as a six-year-old. There was a polite reply and to her surprise Misses Hartwig handed her a credit card instead of cash.

“Don’t need to look surprised, dear. Even a dinosaur has to go with the time. My Olli gave it to me.”

“Oh. Of course.”

Martha didn’t care who Olli was and why that person would give Misses Hartwig a credit card.

“Ah, wait. He asked me to buy a newspaper. Which one was it?”

“The newspapers are over there. Maybe you remember when you have a look.”

Pointing in the corner next to the hard liquor there was a bunch of different magazines and newspapers stuffed in an old and creaky metal rack.

“Mind to come along? I didn’t bring my glasses.”

With this simple question Martha could feel cold sweat break out over her body. There was no reason to refuse as the other customer was still busy outside. But it was obvious why Misses Hartwig would need her help.

No, I can’t. Where is Peter when you need him?!

But her boss wasn’t around and her body moved automatically to the request of the old lady. Standing in front of the rack Misses Hartwig turned it with her bony hand which was covered in age spots. There was still a faint creaking sound, but Martha had oiled it a few days ago and for a second she was quite proud of herself for doing so.

“Read it, dear. My Olli told me about a headline. Something to do with … Ah, I don’t remember. Just read.”

Martha’s throat felt like she hadn’t drunk in days. There was no saliva to wet her lips or her throat. Her tongue felt awfully large in her mouth and there was an all too familiar tightness in her chest when she tried to breathe in.

“What’s wrong dear? Do you also need glasses?”

“No, no. I just … I …”

With a shaky breath Martha looked at the first newspaper. Reading the headlines in her mind over and over again until she felt like she could open her mouth and produce the sounds. Hearing her shaking high-pitched voice made her stomach clench and when Misses Hartwig shook her head and pointed at the next paper, Martha could feel the sweat on her forehead.

Keep going. She’ll let it go as soon as she has her paper.

It was sheer torture forming the sounds in her mouth and saying them out loud. Words which were not unfamiliar but looked strange. Felt even stranger coming out of her mouth. Becoming like tiny stones first filling her brain and then getting bigger as soon as they entered her mouth. So heavy and bulky. Almost like a physical presence. Getting them out of her mouth was a relief and at the same time mentally exhausting. Time crawled by as painfully slowly as the words which left Martha’s mouth. There was no end to it. Misses Hartwig kept asking for more. The letters started to lose their shape. Forming weird black blotches on the greyish paper. The stones kept getting bigger and bigger. In the end it was the other customer at pump number seven who ended the torment and Martha fled back to the cashier.

Martha stared at the paper Ella’s teacher had given her and then at the book which Leon had proudly put on her lap. It was just before their bedtime. Both children were washed, had brushed their teeth and were in their pajamas. Usually, they played a simple game before Martha would sing some lullabies. But today Leon had been really eager and talked about a surprise.

She sat on the worn-out carpet floor in the bedroom she shared with her children. Both kids were sitting next to her, waiting for their evening routine to unfold. Leon had placed the purple book on her legs. Immediately today’s interaction with Misses Hartwig washed over her and Martha had to fight hard not to let the discomfort show on her face. But apparently, she couldn’t hide her moods in front of her kids.

“Mommy? Are you sad?”

Ella’s careful question and her warm body next to her made it more difficult to hold back the tears stinging in her eyes.

You need to be strong. It’s just a book. Let’s …

“Miss Simon said we can read together. But I can read it alone! I wanna show you!”

Martha almost felt ashamed of how relieved she felt when her son explained his idea. She wasn’t supposed to read. He would read. Breathing became easier immediately and the smile she gave him was filled with pride and sincerity.

“Oh, so you are ready to read for Ella and me? Do you even know all the letters?”

“I can do it! Ella, you know it, right?!”

Ella immediately agreed, nodding fiercely at her side. There was so much confidence in the boy’s voice that Martha gave in to the sudden urge to hug him.

Sure, you can do that! Be confident.

“But … maybe …”

The hesitation made her release him from the hug and doubt was written all over his face. Martha knew this feeling all too well. Looking at the book in her hand, seeing the eager expression in her daughter’s face and then the hesitation in Leon’s eyes, she made a decision.

“How about we read it together. You’ll read a bit. I’ll read a bit. And Ella can try it too.”

“No, Ella is still a baby. She can’t read!”

“I can. Mommy. I can read, too!”

The spell was broken. Martha couldn’t hold back a small chuckle and tickled both kids a little before settling down again. Not only did Leon have his confidence back, but Martha felt an unknown confidence too. Pulling her kids close, pushing away all thoughts about words and chaos, she opened the book.