Swimming in Circles

            by Simone Kertesz

 

“Myrtle dear, it’s your turn today.” Mother said non-chalantly.

            “Oh goodie!” Myrtle said enthusiastically

As Myrtle approached, I felt a warm feeling spill over me, I loved her so much and she loved me just the same. I liked to think that we had the healthiest relationship in the Dawson household. Myrtle was my best friend, she spoke to me like a human being and she let me do the talking for once, and actually listened. Mom, Dad and Chandler either ignored me, spoke only about themselves, or occasionally endeared me with an “Aw Goldie I love you” or “You’re the only one who listens to my problems, and really understands.” Of course the role of the family confidant, which I unwillingly became, was a secret kept within the plastered walls of our beautiful apartment on the Upper East Side.  If discovered by the judgmental outside world, our family would have undoubtedly been dubbed unhealthy and dysfunctional. Of course we were, but I for one was good at keeping secrets.

“ Hi Goldieeeeeee, I miiiiiiised yoooooouuuuuuu, “ Myrtle drawled.

“ I missed you too, it’s been ages since we’ve spoken.”

“ Are you hungry, Goldie? Cause I sure am, Mom says that Esmeralda is making quesadillas for dinner! Mom and Dad won’t be here of course so it’s just you, me and Chandler.”

“ I’m not a fan of quesadillas, and I think that Chandler is going to be ‘studying’ with Brita tonight.”

“Myrtle!” Mom said abrasively, “I already told you once that Chandler will not be joining us for dinner. It is imperative that you listen to the important facts that I tell you at the breakfast table each morning, because if you don’t our daily routine, which is in a constant state of flux, will undoubtedly be executed poorly.  And that my dear is not acceptable in the Dawson household.” Mom said sternly

Myrtle looked up at mother, and blinked her big, brown, glossy eyes in confusion.

“Just get your lunch pale from Esmeralda, and Charles will take you to school.”

Esmeralda and Charles were necessities in our chaotic household. Esmeralda, a beautiful Siberian woman, had come to New York to make a career for herself as a model. She had raven black hair that waved delicately. Her eyes were celery green that contrasted in all the best ways against her mocha skin.  Her success had been dismal despite her beauty so, to avoid destitution, she accepted a career as a full time nanny. This job entailed all the expected: cooking, cleaning and taking care of us.  Everyone loved her, except mother of course.

 

            A loud thumping noise followed by a quick shuffle woke me up from my afternoon nap. As the door burst open two figures fell obtrusively through the door way. Chandler with Brita on top of him of course.

“Baby, look what you made me do.” Brita said as she pushed herself away from him and pulled down her argyle skirt. Chandler only laughed and pulled her back on top of him. They started making out furiously.

            “Chandler… Chandler… CHANDLER! I’M IN THE ROOM!” Of course he didn’t hear.

“Baby, stop it, we’re in your door way, if anyone sees us they’ll think I’m a little tart,” Brita wined as she tried to escape Chandler’s arms.

“You’re my little tart.” Chandler said suavely.

“Baby, you’re so silly.”

“ I’m silly for you.”

“Aw Baby…” Brita grabbed Chandler’s face passionately, yet again they started to suck face with wild fever. They began to stumble around the room like cartoon characters. Two people moving as one unit, crashing against bookcases and falling on couches.

“CHANDLER I’M IN THE ROOM!” I yelled. Suddenly the tornado of Chandler and Brita that was sweeping through the living room was coming in my direction. 

“Guys watch out! WATCH OUT! WATCH…”

“Brita! Be careful you almost ran into Goldie for god sake!” Chandler yelled.

“Oh my god Chandler, stop freaking out! Your so weird.”

“Just because I love Goldie I’m suddenly weird?”

“YEAH! She’s just a stupid…”

“Don’t say that Brita! Goldie is part of my family! Are you calling my family stupid?”

“No! I just think its weird how you love Goldie more than me!” Brita cried hysterically.

 

            It had been three weeks since Chandler had brought Brita to the house and the chaos of mother’s jealousy and fathers longing had resulted in lack of household order. My bowl had not been cleaned in weeks; I began to fade behind transparent green allege. I could hardly see anything.

A jingling of keys sounded as father tiredly opened the door. His salt and pepper hair fell lightly in front of his eyes. He was fifty-six years old but had the physique of a younger man. He was quiet and always pre occupied. Mother and Father had been married for twenty years. When they first met Mother was a young and ambitious intern working at the Colperts and Associates law firm where Father was a first-year associate. Father remembered Mother as being beautiful and vivacious with long, straight chestnut hair and perfect freckles. He didn’t know to act around her. He would fumble on his words when she brought him his mail and after five months of gawking he finally asked her out to dinner. From that point on they became inseparable and got married six months later. They had Chandler after five years of marriage and then both their careers took off. Fourteen years later Myrtle was born, she was what you call a mistake.  Mother and Father’s jobs consumed them; so a few months after Myrtle was born Esmeralda was hired.

Mother and Father’s problems started long before Esmeralda came a long, but now Father had an excuse. There was a wall that had been built between them. Their jobs consumed every morsel of their being. Father had missed Chandler’s last three birthdays and been on a plane to Los Angeles when Myrtle was born.

Father tossed his camel hair coat onto the couch and shuffled to the kitchen where he expected to see the only thing that brought a smile to his face. But to his dismay an imposter was standing in her place.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“I know. You never expect to see me. Or should I say, want to see me. But no doubt you were expecting someone else weren’t you?” Mother threw on her unused William and Sonoma apron and fumbled around the drawer that was full of pots and pans she had never touched.

“Jessica what are you doing?” Father asked.

“I’m cooking dinner. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Why isn’t Esmeralda cooking? In fact where is she?”

Mother threw her head back and chuckled ironically, “You know we have been married for twenty years and you have never once looked at me the way you look at her.” The anger in her voice began to simmer in his ear drums.

“Were not talking about this right now.” Father said coldly.

“Of course we aren’t, but I do need to talk to you about something else.” Mother squinted her eyes and tried to hold back the devilish smile that was crawling up her face. Mother was good at playing games.

“What?”

“Well Goldie’s bowl has been completely overlooked, allege is growing everywhere.” It was true my bowl hadn’t been cleaned for weeks. Everything was becoming blurry. It was so unlike the Dawson’s, even Myrtle seemed preoccupied.

“Jessica, Goldie is a damn goldfish we get a new one every three week! It’s unhealthy how you and the kids get attached like this.”

“Your one to talk Frank, I’ve heard your late night confessionals.”

It was true Father would talk to me at ungodly hours of the night. He would tell me of his desire for Esmeralda and his frustration with the constant rejection she fed to him. He would tell me his sadness of loosing Mother to her work. Father told stories of how they first met and fell in love and how it had all disappeared. It was sad.

“Okay Jessica we’ll get the damn bowl clean, Esmeralda can do it.”

“You see there’s the problem.” Mother said cat like.

“What problem? There is no problem?”

“Oh yes there is. You see I don’t let people that I can’t trust clean my Goldie’s bowl, and since I can’t trust that Siberian tramp I had to…” Mother hesitated, “Let her go.”

The pink tint that blushed fathers cheeks was suddenly sucked out and replaced by transparency. His face crumbled with the weight of the strongest wall in Jericho. She was gone. He could not react, if he did, Mother would finally have proof, and he refused to give her that satisfaction. Another stifled feeling, another unrequited desire, one more secret would be added to the hefty collection that haunted the Dawson household.

As weeks past a new nanny was hired. You might think mother would have learned by this time to hire someone fat and ugly but she always mysteriously preferred the beautiful slender type. This time was no exception. Laura was tall and thin; she had strawberry blonde hair and creamy skin. Father resumed his tireless infatuation and Mother’s jealousy began to stir. Chandler continued to bring a string of “serious” girls over to the house. Myrtle continued to be three years old and lovely and I continued to watch. As the days passed the glass that was my telescope into the world became blurrier and blurrier and finally I could only see green. All that was left was to swim in circles.