Piece and Quiet

Crowds of people always make Tiffany anxious. She could get on perfectly fine with two, three, even four people. As soon as there became five in any given setting she’d surely notice. Her first instinct would be to leave immediately. God forbid other people would arrive and make the number go up. She’d be on the verge of a panic attack for sure. Such a troublesome way to live one’s life. She, now in hospice care at the tender age of 87, lies in bed wondering if there will be a crowd of people at her funeral. Yes, even the prospects of many people being around her when she is dead makes her anxious. Because of her condition, Tiffany’s life has been, umm, let’s just say stunted. No diners, parties, weddings, church services, or any other setting where a crowd of people would be. Living life in a major city with some prestigious career was out of the question for her too. Poor Tiffany never found love. There was no marriage, no children, and as she all alone with pen and paper in hand writes down her desire to have only three people at her funeral, there were no grandchildren either. Oh, she made it three to be on the safe side. You know how these things never go according to plan. There may be a misunderstanding and one extra person shows up. She’d be ok with four people, but more than that would be absolutely unacceptable! Ahh, the required dotting of I’s and crossing of T’s that goes into one’s preparations for transitioning to the afterlife. Tiffany had her priorities in order. She knew what mattered and what didn’t. Just as she had lived the last 77 years of her life avoiding crowds, she was making sure that her death would be no different. Of course, Tiffany wasn’t always this way. Who can say for sure who or what was to blame for the way she became? She obviously made her choice. Others aren’t so certain that the crowd was to blame though. All that is certain is that it all had to do with that bright summer day that was her tenth birthday, the party her mother was giving her, and of course a nice small piece of her mothers’ chocolate cake.

Tiffany and her three years younger brother Thomas just loved their mother’s chocolate cake. That was about the only thing they had in common. You see, she was always bold, loud, outspoken, and yes believe it or not, loved crowds. Thomas was shy, quiet, and mouse-like. Back then, he was the one that hated crowds. In fact, she had begged her mom to have the party against his wishes. He was afraid he would be beaten up by the mean boys that would surely be there. Tiffany didn’t really care though. She was more interested in the celebration in her honor, the many gifts all the people would give her, and yes her mom’s chocolate cake.

Another thing Tiffany and Thomas differed on was their relationship with their parents. Tiffany loved her mom and especially loved her dad. She could do no wrong in his eyes and she just ate that up. Thomas on the other hand, had a big problem with their dad.

“You need to toughen up boy!” or

“I’m going to make a man out of you if it kills me!”

Is what his father would often say. Those weren’t just empty words. He would make him do excruciating work around the house, yell at him for showing any kind of emotion, and beat on him to show him what pain was all about. Thomas wasn’t fond of their mom on the account of her never coming to his aid. Her philosophy seemed to be…’Boys will be boys’. She didn’t even want to hear it whenever Thomas came to her with his feelings about his father. She’d just send him away yelling.

“Get out of my face Thomas! I don’t want to hear any of it!”

He’d often be in tears but it didn’t seem matter. Because of that, Thomas always considered her to be on their father’s side. She later confessed that she didn’t agree with the way her husband treated Thomas, but felt it was not her place to step in to do anything about it. But it was too little too late as far as Thomas was concerned.

Tiffany never cared enough to stand up for Thomas either. She was too wrapped up in her own affairs. Thomas gave her a pass because, unlike their mother, she would let him talk to her about it. She’d be playing with her make up, thinking about boys, reading a book, or engaged in some other activity totally ignoring him the whole time. He didn’t seem to mind. He’d be talking away just spilling his guts to her. She was told about how he was bullied on a daily basis and how his father’s licks would leave bruises on his frail body. He confessed to how he, at times, was unable to determine which bruises were from his father and which were from the bullies. There were select few times where he would confess his deepest darkest feelings to her. He’d say awful things like how he wanted to take his father’s gun from the top shelf, where he kept it, and stop the bullying once and for all. She’d usually put an end to that sort of talk right away.

“Thomas! Now I don’t want to ever hear you say anything like that again now you hear me!”

Then she’d go on back to painting her fingernails or whatever activity she was really engaged in. He’d just move on to talk more about his contempt for their parents or the bullies he was always attempting to avoid.

On the day of her tenth birthday party though, there was no such talk. They each hovered around the kitchen like vultures around a wounded animal as their mother worked on her cake. They talked about how good it would be and how they didn’t want to share any of it with the would be guest as they began to arrive. Pretty soon there was a large crowd there. This was the biggest birthday party they had ever had or been too. It must’ve been at least thirty kids there along with their parents. There were so many loud kids and grownups around that their mother ordered all the kids outside of the packed house.

“All of y’all children go on outside and play in the sun. As soon as all the food is ready we’ll call y’all in to eat and have cake!”

The kids put on huge smiles for the cake part as they all dashed outside to play. It didn’t take long before the sun forced them all to play under the shaded carport attached to the house. They didn’t seem to mind though. They were having the time of their lives. Especially Tiffany. She was the center of attention and she enjoyed every single moment of it. This would be the last time she would ever happily revel in such a large space with such a large crowd. Such a stark contrast between the way she lived the rest of her years after that day. She has since only known peace and quiet whereas under that carport it was anything but. It was so loud that she would have to yell in order for the person standing next to her to hear what she was saying and vice versa. And it seemed like they all were attempting to talk to her at the same exact time. Oh, how she loved it! With a humongous smile, she would pivot from one kid to the next to hear what they each had to say.

Then she received a tap on the shoulder. She, still smiling, looked over and then down. The smile went away. It was Thomas. He looked a little upset. He spoke but she could not hear him.

“What?”

She leaned over to him. He spoke again, but she heard nothing.

“What is it now Thomas?!?!”

Another one of her friends began talking to her. Thomas spoke again. She still didn’t hear him. Then the door opened to the house. Her mom leaned out with a pan and a wooden spoon and beats the pan to get their attention.

“Alright kids! Come and get some food and cake!”

Tiffany’s eyes lit up. She immediately turned to her friends and screamed in excitement.

“Cake! Cake! Cake!” They all began to yell as they hurried inside the house.

Once inside, Tiffany quickly searched and found the cake. It had been placed on the kitchen table. As children overcrowded the kitchen, she desperately made her way over to it. She looked up at her mom who was also standing beside the table.

“Mom! Can I have cake first please! Please! Please!”

Her mom looked unsure.

“Come on mom, it’s my tenth birthday after all!”

Her mom looked at her and perked her lip out as she contemplated. Tiffany put on a puppy dog face.

“Alright, alright. It is your tenth birthday after all.”

Tiffany cheered and celebrated with a celebratory dance.

“But only a small slice since you’ve yet to eat.”

Her mom grabbed a plate and a knife and cut a small piece of the cake. She put it on the plate, grabbed a fork, and placed it all in front of her. Without hesitation, Tiffany took the fork, grabbed a bite of the cake and stuffed it in her mouth. She closed her eyes as her taste buds began to register the flavor from the moist sweet cake.

Pow!

The loudest sound she had ever heard. It turned out to be the loudest sound she had ever felt. She knew right away. Her father was not at the party. There was only one other person that loved her moms’ chocolate cake as much as she did, and he was not by her side. She all of a sudden realized that she was all that he had, and she had not been there for him. Instead, she was wrapped up in the party. She was consumed by the crowd. Her heart immediately sank and at that very abrupt point the party was over. It would never reconvene ever again for her.

Now still laying on her death bed, she reaches once more for that pen and paper. Better make it two, she thinks as she scribbles through the number three she had written. She writes the number two just above it. Looking content, she places the writing material down on the bed next to her and lays alone in silence.

For her, the crowd was to blame and she spent the rest of her life making sure that they never hurt her again. Others are not so sure. Maybe it was peoples’ reluctance to step in and help. Perhaps the stressful circumstances were responsible. Some think it wasn’t just one thing, but a number of factors coming together all at once in an overwhelming way. There are some who say that there is nothing anyone could have done. That no one can stop such a thing from happening once the mind is all made up. What they all seem to say is that there’s nothing left to do but pick up the pieces of one’s own life and do the best you can to move on.

Tiffany never picked up the pieces. The pieces of herself that made up who she was were lost along with her brother on that day. Her life left in the rear-view mirror as she continued on just being alive. She, never again finding it within herself to have another single slice of her mothers’ beloved chocolate cake. If only she had just taken one more teensy-weensy little bite. Oh, what could have been.