#~ Cureall ~
#”No more stress or sadness for miles; you’re all smiles!”
#Comes as a twice daily injection or a chip in the arm.
“You’re not my mother.” The words fell out. I could hardly admit it to myself. She cocked her head cluelessly and it shattered my heart. She was only Mother’s shell now.
“What’s that mean, Isla?” Her voice was even higher than her usual mousy self. A side effect from the chip? She sounded nearly infant.
How could I respond?
I was sat next to strangers. Father with his band-aids and animated bites, brows raised with every sip of soda and a shimmy with a shiver of delight. Disquietingly quiet.
And then there was Kaylee. Far too young to articulate the changes she was witnessing. But I could see in her eyes a void of childlike curiosity and a numbness to what she was once so excited to come home to. She would rather feel everything alongside me.
This was a month into Mom and Dad’s decision to be “perfect parents.” Their animated behaviors were growing more distant from human. Normalcy was nearly absent beneath our roof. Rather than offering comfort, their missing pieces of life frightened us. They changed so much about themselves to give us a worse life because they were somehow convinced that we were better off.
Another month passed by and, with all of the goings-on at school — a Star Student badge, poster, and lunch celebration — Kaylee seemed unfazed by the oddities surrounding us and even masked to blend. I felt as though my purpose as an older sister was to protect her from the nonsense all around, so, after brainstorming, phone calls, and packing, I discussed a viable plan with her.
“Kaylee, I think we should stay with Grandma and Grandpa. They’ve got a bedroom in the basement and plenty for us to eat and drink. We’ll be safe there,” I explained, kneeling before her as she sat on her bed bouncing her legs. I reached out and held her tiny hands in mine.
“Ok.”
“Would that make you happy?” Tears glossed my eyes. What was happiness anymore? I would do anything to see the light even flicker in her eyes.
And then I noticed the bump beneath her skin.
I felt a pit deeper than ever in my stomach, a storm of rage edging the surface.
After I helped Kaylee gather her things and tucked her in to prepare for an early morning, I understood what must be done. I wanted my parents back. Ever-feeling Mom; easily insecure and vulnerable at her prudish image, a sentimental scrapbooker and storyteller to grieve and honor those she has lost — I knew this no more. And unabashed Dad. Though chivalrous and mighty, he has always been the first to cry at a children’s film and is especially emotional on holidays. Where was he now?
So I threw Dad’s needle in my bag and crept into their bedroom with a knife.
Mom was always a heavy sleeper. I used to rest my head on her arm when I was tired and too young to be embarrassed to openly love my parents. The only instances she couldn’t sleep are when I slept with her. She would be up all night making sure I was ok. The best mama in the world. I laid my cheek against her skin like I did when I was little, then plunged the blade under her skin for that damned chip, squeezing my eyes shut so I wouldn’t see the gore.
Dad awoke with a jolly laugh that jolted me into the moment. Mom’s eyes shot open, icy and frozen. The chip was half out. Her jaw seemed to glitch, dropping off its hinge until dislocation, then promptly closing again to her normal bite over and over and over again. That same expressionless look was glued to her. She was still even as I dug deeper to flick it out.
I held up her bloodied Cureall chip triumphantly. The whole world may have been fucking insane, but ours was ready to be truly happy again. Ready to be happy with the occasional stroke of sadness.
But it was as if the rest of my senses were disabled.
Dad was cradling his knees in bed, rocking back and forth laughing like the madman he was while blood spurted from the vein I had hit trying to save my mother.
I panicked, wrapping her arm in the blanket, but I was too late for her. I hugged her body tightly and wept over the red-soaked sheets.
“No more stress or sadness for miles; you’re all smiles!” Dad chirped like a product, dancing around the room, rejoicing.
A foolish part of me wanted to end him then and there, but I knew he wasn’t my father and I knew I have never truly wanted to hurt. So why does everything I touch turn to shit?
Kaylee was silent in the doorway. I could finally see something in her eyes again and it chilled me to the bone. Her head tilted strangely.
“Mama?” Her voice was that eerie high I remembered Mom’s being at the dinner table a mere months ago.
Kaylee crawled into the wagon hooked to my bike and held on tight to our things. I pumped my legs all the way to Grandma and Grandpa’s.
I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t move. I was awake the entire night thinking while Kaylee slept soundly on the other side of the body pillow.
The old block collapsed and I was just a chip. Nothing more than a measly crumb. The best of me went with my mother.
So maybe it’s best that I have Dad’s syringe with me.
While I’m miles away, I would much rather be smiling.