“Early to bed, early to rise, Norman, and the lord makes you healthy, wealthy and wise.”
The phone wrings
“Now…” She looks at her watch. "I wonder who that could be?"
“Sunday morning, who else would it be,” says Norman.
“Hello… yes… this is Norma... oh yes… yes, yes… happy to… I’m leaving soon… it is for the children after all… I have 10 chil’n myself.”
"Chil’n," said Norman.
"You're my chil’n, the last of my chil’n," said Norma almost mournfully. "My stay at home child."
"With my mother?" said Norman.
"Yes, with me, Norman, with your old mother."
Norma found love late, and children even later. And by the time she had popped out the tenth one, she was getting on in age.
"But mother," said Norman. "What if I go out in the world and find me my wife, my equal, my yin to her yang?"
"A good marriage is not a pairing of equals," says Norma. "It is not a guaranteed road to happiness, my boy."
“A good marriage is not about equals?”
“No, somebody has to be in charge.”
"It is a road, though," begs Norman.
"A good wife, is a child late in life. Better than a wife. A change of life baby, he is born to take his mother to old age, being her constant companion until she dies, so she is never alone."
"Oh mamma." Norman was exhausted by this conversation.
"It is her compensation," said Norma. "For all of the hard work she put in raising ten children."
"Compensation, for all the other children?"
"Yes," said Norma. "My compensation."
“But… what about me?”
“I’ll look after you, you will want for nothing.”
“Except a life…”
“You will have a life, a very lovely life… with me.”
“But, I might want more.”
“Like what?” said Norma. “What do you want?”
“I might want a wife…”
“Oh, sweetheart,” said Norma. “Look at your brother, Caleb, and the trouble he has had…”
“I might want children.”
“Overrated darling, overrated.”
“You had 10.”
“So, I know what I am talking about.”
“What about…”
“No more talk about it…”
“…me?”
“You don’t want to disappoint your mamma?”
“No, mamma.”
“You don’t want to be a disappointment?”
“No mamma.”
“After all the things I have done for you.”
“All the things…”
“My life has been devoted to you kids.”
“I know mamma. You have been devoted to us kids.””
“Now, be a good boy,” said Norma. “I’m stiff, I wonder if I slept funny? I need my back rubbed. Rub your mamma’s back like a good boy.”
“Yes, mamma.”
“And a bath, I’ll need a bath run when I get home.”
“Yes, mamma.”
“Before I cook you your Sunday lunch.”
“Yes, mamma. You always have a bath after Sunday lunch.”
“We have a lovely life, don’t we Norman?”
“Yes.”
There is silence.
Norma picks up her cup of tea and takes a chug. She pulls a face and puts it down again.
“Can you cut up that beef and put it on a slower simmer for a stew for lunch.”
“I get to cook Sunday lunch,” says Norman. “Welcome to my life.”
“Add the veggies once the meat…” Norma stops mid sentence, she puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head at her youngest son. “Oh Norman. Be happy. The good lord helps those who help themselves, you know.”
“No one is helping me.”
“Anyway, I told the vicar’s wife I’d be at the church soon,” said Norma. “So, I have to go get ready.”
Norman calls his brother Dylan.
“Are you going to help look after mum?”
“What time do I have, Norm. I start professional basketball this year.”
“Surely, you have some time?”
“I’m looking at overseas if this year goes well.”
Norma appears back in the kitchen. “Gotta go.” The front door opens and closes.
“Hello.”
“Oh look, Marion is here,” says Norma. “I can’t stop, I’m due at the church.” She looks at her watch. “Well, now.”
“I need to talk to you, about mum?”
“What about her?” asks Marion. “There is nothing wrong, is there?”
“Nothing wrong?” repeats Norman. “Just my life?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m stuck looking after mum,” says Norman. “Do you think you’ll be able to help some time?”
“Oh Norm, I’m raising children. I’m a mum myself. I don’t have enough time in the day as it is.”
“But it’s not fair that I take on all the responsibility.”
“You are here, Norman,” says Marion. “It’s easier for you.”
“I know you all think that…”
“Oh, I know. Of course, of course,” says Marion.
“What? Tell me. I’m open to any ideas.”
“I have to pick up Luke and be at Sam’s football club for a bbq lunch, and I don’t have time to go home, I’ll just have a shower here.”
“I can’t do anything…”
“Perhaps, brush up on your time management skills.” Marion’s voice trails off as she leaves the room.
Marion pulls her blouse over her head.
Norman reaches into the fridge and selects a white paper package.
Marion slides the white shower curtain closed and turns on the water.
Norman stands at the wood block in the kitchen and slices the beef up in anger with a large knife. The point of the knife pieces the red meat over and over.
The pot simmers on the stove.
Marion appears at the kitchen door. “See you Normo.”
“What we talked about,” says Norman.
“Gotta go,” says Marion’s voice from the front hall.
Norman picks up his phone and punches in a number. He speaks to his sister Lila.
“I’m a mum, Norman,” says Lila. “What time do I have to look after mum?”
The thing that upset Norman more than the refusal, was Lila’s annoyed tone at Norman even asking.
“You get free accommodation,” says Lila. “I wish someone would do that for me.”
“Mum would.”
Lila laughs. “Oh Norman. I’ve got to go.”
The basement was cool, it was Norman's favourite place. Norman wasn’t sure if it was real hair, or horse hair, but he liked the feel of it against his skin. The dress smelt of his mother’s perfume, which he found off putting the first time, but now, strangely, he found it comforting. He liked the way he looked in the mirror.
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