Lessons for a little girl

Clutching Drooper the floppy stuffed dog and her box of Chinese Chequers, the little girl dashed out of the house onto the front porch. The old family driver sat dozing in his chair. She shook his arm till he opened one bleary eye. She rattled the marbles in the Chinese Chequers box and asked him to play with her. But the sleepy old driver didn't want to play Chinese Chequers. He wanted to rest till it was time for him to drive Mummy somewhere.

The little girl played alone.

The next day, the little girl took Barbie and Ken and ran to the maid. But the maid didn't want to set up a mini rock concert for Barbie and Ken. The maid had to cook lunch after cleaning the living room.

The little girl played alone.

The next day, the little girl pressed her ear against Mummy's room door. She heard the sound of the TV inside Mummy's room. She quietly crept away. Mummy wouldn't want to play while watching her movies.

The little girl played alone.

Then one day, the little girl spotted tiny Susan. Tiny Susan ran about unsteadily on her chubby little legs and was excitedly clambouring after the fat sausage-dog that padded around the yard. Tiny Susan stumbled, landed flat on her tummy, picked herself up with a giggle and ran after the dog again. The little girl clutched the fence grills that separated her from tiny Susan and watched with bright eyes. Tiny Susan's mummy came over and smiled at the little girl. "Would you like to come over play with Susan?" The little girl's heart leapt with excitement, but she didn't dare do any more than smile back shyly.

That evening, the little girl asked Mummy if she could go over the fence and play with tiny Susan. Mummy got angry and said no. The little girl asked why. Mummy got angrier and the little girl didn't dare to ask why again.

The next day, Mummy went out. The little girl stood clutching the fence grills again, watching tiny Susan run around, chasing an errant ball this time. Tiny Susan's mummy came by again and asked, "Won't you come play with Susan?" The little girl looked towards the gate - if Mummy came home now, she'd see her in tiny Susan's yard from the driveway. But if she asked the maid to help her look out for Mummy, she wouldn't get caught. So that's what she did.

And so the little girl slipped between the fence grills to play with tiny Susan. They chased after the ball, giggling all the way. They teased the fat sausage-dog, shrieking with laughter all the way. The little girl tickled tiny Susan, both of them beside themselves with delight.

And then, the little girl saw Mummy's car pulling into the driveway. The maid pointed out to the little girl, somewhat too late, that Mummy had reached home. Mummy got out of the car and glared at the little girl. Mummy commanded the little girl back through the fence and marched her into the house. The little girl listened to Mummy and walked up the stairs. Halfway up the stairs, she turned around, and there was Mummy behind her, a frightening, menacing, angry grimace-smile on Mummy's face, Mummy's eyes bulging fiercely. She went into Mummy's room as Mummy said to.

She fetched the cane from the cupboard like Mummy told her to. She gave the cane to Mummy like she was told to. She then pulled down her own pants and bent over as Mummy told her to, trembling in fear.

Twack! Twack! Twack! "You dare to cry?!" TWACK! TWACK! TWACK! TWACK!

The little girl learnt a valuable lesson that day. She learnt never to reach out to people - that would only lead to pain. She learnt that the only way out of loneliness was more loneliness - she should never try. She learnt that to venture was to get punished - risks were never meant to be taken. She also learnt that it was normal for a mummy to begin the torture of punishment long before the cane ever touches the skin - a long, withering look, dreadful anticipation and the prolonged agony of bringing about your own pain are essential parts of life as a younger. She learnt never to trust someone else to help her watch her back - no one is trustworthy enough to save you pain.

The little girl learnt a lot of things from Mummy.

I'm afraid the tale of the little girl above is a historical representation, with some slight poetic license inserted for more efficient narrative. But the events and essence of it are entirely true. I can even still see the exact expression she had walking up the stairs behind me, the one that turned my blood cold.