The Weight of Water by Sarah Crossan Read Free Book Online

on stage at
    The Grand Theatre.
     
    She is so bold
    I imagine she is capable of anything.
     
    So I tell her the truth.
     
    She shuts off the music,
    Sits on the bed and twists her
    Hands in her lap.
     
    I see she is seething,
    But her mouth stays still
    While I tell her everything
               Except who found Tata.
    And then she says,
    ‘You should have told me sooner.
    Do you think Mama is an idiot?
    This woman must think Mama is an idiot.
    Tata thinks Mama is an idiot too.
    It’s Tata and Kasienka now,
    Isn’t it?’
     
    I want to tell her that it will
    Never be Tata and Kasienka –
    It’s true, Tata doesn’t want her,
    But he doesn’t want me either.
     
    Mama is up and out the door
    Before I can defend myself,
    Before I can beg her to stay,
    Before I can say ‘I love you
     
    The Most.’

Guilty
     
    We are playing Scrabble,
    Staring at plastic squares and
    Pretending to practise our English,
    Permitting Polish and Swahili,
    When Mama returns.
     
    We know where she’s been because
    Her face is swollen,
    And she cannot speak.
     
    Kanoro stands and moves to the door,
    But Mama puts a hand out to stop him.
     
    Stay.
     
    ‘Stay,’ I say,
    Holding on to Kanoro’s shirt tail.
     
    He brews Mama a drink
    With something in it to help her play
    Scrabble without wheezing.
     
    Mama can’t look at me,
    Even when I set down a long word.
    I am glad Kanoro is here.
    I wouldn’t have known
    What to do with Mama
    When she came home
    All mixed up,
    Like the letters in the Scrabble bag,
    Carrying with her a terrible sadness
    And showing it off so
    Unashamedly.

Motherless
     
    Mama is so angry with me.
    White,
    Light,
    Silent anger.
     
    She cooks my meals,
    Washes my clothes,
    Sleeps next to me at night.
     
    But Mama slams the pots
    so I can hear her anger,
    And burns the stews
    so I can smell it,
     
    And she avoids my eyes;
    Not an easy thing to do
    When we live together
    In one room.
     
    She looks at me sometimes.
     
    Sometimes I catch her looking.
     
    And when I do
    She turns away –
    Slowly,
    Deliberately.
               Enraged.
     
    When I tell her I made
    The swim team
    She still won’t look.
     
    She won’t look at me when I sit
    Opposite her at dinner
    Trying not to spill anything,
    Even eating the onions.
     
    She won’t look at me
    In bed at night,
    And if we accidentally touch,
    She shakes me off like
    She’s been bitten,
    Like I’m poison.
     
    So now I’m feeling too
    Brittle to look at her.
     
    Instead I stare at the
    Hem of her dress,
    Or a clip in her hair,
    Or the rings on her fingers
    When we speak.
     
    And it all makes me feel
    Like going swimming.

Desperation
     
    It is
    Not my fault
    Tata doesn’t
    Love you
    Any more.
     
    Can I say that to her?

Hope
     
    Someone was cruel to Mama at work.
    ‘Sorry,’ I say.
    Mama sniffs.
     
    And now she wants to go home.
    ‘To Gdańsk?’ I ask.
    She nods.
     
    She hasn’t showered in days.
    ‘Really?’ I ask.
    She nods again.
     
    ‘When?’ I ask.
    Mama shrugs
     
    Then puts her head into her hands and weeps.

Split
     
    There are many Kasienkas now.
     
    She has split into pieces and
    Scattered herself about like fallen fruit
    Beneath a leafless tree.
     
    One Kasienka is Mama’s girl –
    The Kasienka who chews quietly
    And sleeps with a teddy bear in her arms.
    She is muted and hidden and
    Wants nothing more than to run to Tata –
    To form a real family again.
     
    Another Kasienka is Tata’s pilgrim,
    The tight-lipped teenage Kasienka.
    She is frightening and moody.
     
    She is also William’s Cassie,
    Shy-eyed and broad-backed –
    A swimmer, but a girl before anything else:
    A girlfriend with a mouth and breasts.
     
    Cassie belongs to Clair too,
    She smells of cabbage and fear.
    She is a dumb, defiant victim.
    But she is easily demolished.
     
    If only I knew Kasienka’s Kasienka:
     
    When I search for myself in the bathroom mirror
    I cannot find her at all.
     
    When I am alone
    I do not know who I