Oracle in the Mist. Linda Maree Malcolm
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scattered throughout her house you’ll see there’s always this sad look in her eyes. And she’s often looking to the spot beside her as if there’s someone missing. There’s another strange thing too. She gave birth to my mother when she was 50. We’re talking about the 1960s when people just didn’t do that kind of thing. Can you imagine? Daphne’s parents were in their early 60s when she was my age. Mum didn’t like growing up with elderly parents and as an only child. She left as soon as she finished high school and rarely came back home until now, that is. And of course there’s my father. Who on earth knows who that even was. It could have been an Italian waiter in Rome or a French artist in Paris or an English policeman in London …” Now it was David’s turn to be embarrassed. He swallowed loudly and said, “Hang on; go back a bit … who’s Daphne?”
“Oh, she’s my mum,” Bobby replied and he frowned at her. Then she realised what she had just said.
“Oh yes, I call her Daphne. I only call her Mum when we’re around older people. It’s too difficult for them to understand because they are a different generation to us.”
Bobby stopped talking. She suddenly realised that she had probably given away too many family secrets and to someone she had only just met, too. She remembered what the Social Etiquette book that she had borrowed from the library had said: “One should always remember that we do not air our dirty laundry in public. A lady is expert at keeping confidences and speaking only of light and simple subjects.” Thank goodness I don’t have to worry about all of that in this day and age, she thought to herself. Still, family secrets should be kept within family and not for the first time she regretted that she had no idea of these things. Luckily for her David had a way of making her feel relaxed and she felt she could trust him.
“So okay … how is it that you don’t know who your father is?” He was blinking rather heavily and Bobby could see that he was having trouble grasping her very unconventional lifestyle.
“Oh well, that’s because Daphne smoked a lot of pot and did all of those hippy things, you know, and well … she packed a lot of living into those 20 or so years after she left home and before she had me and so I guess she just doesn’t really remember.” Oh my God, Bobby thought to herself, I just did it again. I’ve just described my mother as if she was some kind of immoral floozy. She watched as David screwed up his face and then remembering himself he put on a phoney smile as if all of this was quite all right with him.
“Right,” was all he seemed able to say as he scratched his head and rubbed his eyes in a nervous fashion. For the first time since meeting, Bobby noticed David was speechless.
“She’s a really great person though. I’ll have to introduce you to her one day,” she added weakly, regretting how hideously honest she was with everyone and preparing herself for being judged on her mother’s lifestyle, yet again.
They sat in silence. It was a long, uncomfortable silence. She could almost hear the cogs turning over in his head. Bobby was about to leave. She asked for the article back. She wouldn’t sit with someone who would judge her mother without even really knowing her. Daphne was a wonderful person. Everyone who met her loved her instantly. She may have made some poor choices when she was younger but they seemed to only add to her great personality, not take away from it, or at least that was what Bobby thought anyway.
“You know, it’s just occurred to me that we have had a similar thing happen in our families,” David broke the silence almost in a whisper. “You see, my father was 67 when I was conceived which is quite old no matter what the year is. The thing is that he always looks so much younger than he actually is. Right now for example, he’s still practising medicine full time and going about the place like an energetic 35 year old. People are always commenting on it and asking him for his secret … it’s almost as if that whole incident back in the 1930s somehow put these relatives of ours into some kind of time warp and … well, who knows how it really happened? I would love to find out, wouldn’t you?” Bobby agreed with him, saying, “Yes, I am very curious and would also love to know more.”
“Well,” he said at last, “aren’t we a pair? Just think, the two of us meeting up like this, both of us having distant connections with this whole thing. What are the odds?” He smiled at her.
“I know,” she answered, “but Daphne says there is no such thing as a coincidence. Everything happens for a reason. It’s just a matter of figuring out what it is. I’ve also heard my mother say that people come into your life for a reason, a season or for life. And she uses big words like synchronicity and serendipity all the time. I think I know what she means …” Now it was her turn to stare at him.
“Yes … right, well, I hadn’t really actually thought of it that way … but it’s an unusual way of looking at things and, um …” David was stammering out his reply when right then they heard his mother call to him.
Then Bobby heard the librarian say to David’s mother, in a shrill voice: “Please say hello to the doctor for me, Mrs Game.”
“Shall do,” answered David’s mother and right at that moment Bobby realised that she had been talking to the local GP’s son. They stood up for David to leave.
“May I?” he asked, holding his arms out towards her. For a moment Bobby thought he was going to hug her and she drew back. For some reason he had that offended look on his face again. She wasn’t sure what he had meant, or what to do, so she offered him her hand for a good strong hand shake and said, “Yes you may,” and then shook his hand vigorously. He looked disappointed.
“Would you like to see the tree with me?” he asked, still whispering. “We could meet there tomorrow, say at about 9am?”
“That should be all right,” she said, mentally going through her schedule for the following day before realising that unravelling this mystery was now her most important priority. As she waved David goodbye, Bobby wondered at her total lack of feeling toward him when they had touched just now. She wasn’t attracted to him in ‘that kind of way’, which she was always hearing about but he did seem like a great person to know and she did have a special feeling that she couldn’t work out just yet. Her instincts told her though that in one way or another she would probably know him for a very long time, if not for life.
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