The Doctor's Therapist

The small kitchen was dark. The pot on the stove has a sour smell.The whole place stinks of foul smell.Ann knew the smell. The stew has spoilt. Her mother sat on the low stool by the window. She was holding her head in her hands. Her shoulder was shaking. She was crying quietly. "Mother, what is it?" Ann asked. Her mother did not look up. "I did not sell anything today. Not one fruit. I sat in the market from morning till evening. People passed and passed. They looked and went away,no one patronized me. Now we have no money for food." Ann moved closer. She touched her mother's shoulder. "Mother ,please do not cry like this. Your head will hurt you." "How do we feed tonight? If you don't eat tonight, the ulcer will come back again, remember what the doctor said “ do not starve for too long. Her voice was weak. "I will go and ask Mrs Dorathy next door. Maybe she can give us small rice." "No, Mom," Ann said quickly. Her voice became firm. "Please, do not go there." Her mother looked up at her, surprised. "Why?" "Because I know how she talks, Mom. If you go there today, tomorrow the whole street will hear that we slept with hunger. I do not want that shame for you." Her mother started crying again. "So what do we do now? The stew is spoilt. It stinks. We cannot eat it." Ann went to the pot. She opened the lid. The smell was strong. The oil on top has changed color. She looked at it for a long time. Her thoughts were deep. In her mind, she was thinking: We have suffered before. This is not the first time. When my father left us, we ate dry bread for three days. My belly did not complain then. Why will it complain now? Food is food. Pride does not fill a stomach. She turned to her mother. "Mama, bring two plates. We will eat this stew." Her mother stood up, shocked. "Ann! Are you okay? That stew is spoilt. It will make us sick." "It is not too bad, Mum. It is still manageable. If I heat it very well, it will be okay," Ann said. "I do not mind eating it. My belly does not gossip about what it feeds on neither will it go outside to tell people what we ate tonight. It only wants to be full. Let us fill it." Her mother was looking at her daughter as if she did not know her. "Ann, you are too young to be talking like this." "I am not too young, Mom. I am twenty-four. I see what you go through. I see how you borrow and toil all day to pay. You put in so much effort to grow your small fruit business,yet you barely sales. The truth is, the rich find it hard to patronize the poor, they assume your fruits are bad. I see it every day, but it's well" Ann pulled her mother to sit down again. She held her mother's hands. "Mama, listen to me. Do not worry about today's poor sales. Poor sales today doesn't mean that tomorrow will be same, tomorrow will be better. Sometimes the market is like that. Tomorrow, people may come and buy everything. That is how trading is." "But what if they do not come tomorrow again?" her mother asked, tears still in her eyes. "Then we will try again next tomorrow," Ann said, and she smiled a little. "Mom, I have made up my mind. I will look for a better job. A proper job. Not just cleaning. I will look for a work that can pay me well. When I make money, I will support your business. I will give you money to change to a business or we package the fruit business to look have more standards. Big, fine goods that rich people in London will want to buy." Her mother wiped her eyes. "You will do that for me?" "Yes, Mom. You suffered for me. Now let me suffer a little for you. That is how it should be. So stop crying. Heat this stew well, add small water pepper and salt, and let us eat. Tomorrow will be better. I promise you." Her mother did not say anything again. She just stood up slowly, went to the stove, and lit the fire to heat the spoiled stew. The kitchen was still dark, but Ann's words had brought a light into it. The fire was small but it was doing its work. The pot of stew on the stove was making a soft bubbling sound. Mrs Christie stirred it slowly. She added a little water, pepper ,spice,salt and small leaf she brought from the market. Then covered it again and allows it to heat well. The smell was still a little sour, but the heat was making it better. The kitchen was warm now. After some minutes, her mother brought down the pot. She brought out two old plates and the small rice that were left from the morning. She served the food. Her hands were shaking a little. Her mind was still thinking about the market and the poor sales. "Food is ready," she said quietly. Ann sat on the floor mat. She looked up and saw her mother's tired face. She saw the worry in her mother's eyes. She knew what her mother was thinking. She knew the food was bad . That thought was hurting her more than hunger. Ann took her plate,sat comfortably and ate with the most happy smile. “Thank you mom,it tastes better now. In her mind, Ann was enveloped in fast thought. The taste was truly sour. It was not sweet at all. She could barely swallow it but she managed. Her belly turned upside. But her heart told her something else. Her heart said, if you show your face, your mother will start crying again. If you say it is bad, she will feel like a failure. She already feels bad about sales. Do not add more pain. Make her feel relaxed. Make her believe it turned out great . So Ann chewed it. She swallowed it. Then she smiled. A big smile. "Mom! This is still nice o," Ann said loudly. "You heated it very well. The sour taste is gone. It tastes like fresh stew now. You are a good cook, Mom." Her mother looked at her, not sure. "Are you sure, Ann? Are you just saying that so I will not worry?" "No, Mom. I am serious," Ann said. She took another piece quickly to show her. "See? It is nice. If it was bad, would I eat it like this? My belly is happy now." Her mother watched her eat. Slowly, the worry on her face started to go down a little. She sat down and started to eat her own food too. She ate slowly at first, then faster. Ann wanted her mother to feel even more relaxed. She wanted her mother to laugh. She remembered a challenge on t****k and i********:. She cleaned her hands and brought out her old phone. "Mama, let me do something," she said. "What are you doing?" her mother asked. "Just watch." Ann opened her camera. She put it on video. She held the plate close to her face and started to record herself eating with so much joy, like a rich girl eating in a big five star restaurant. She started talking to the camera, laughing. "Hi guys! Come and enjoy this delicacy with me! Look at this wonderful food! My mom makes the best meals in the whole of London! Oh my God, this stew is so sweet! Come and eat! If you have not tasted my mother's food, you have not eaten good food before!" She was making funny sounds. "Mmm! Mmm! So delicious!" Her mother was watching her. At first she was confused. Then she started to smile. Then the smile became a laugh. A real laugh. She could not help it. "Ann! Stop that! You will put us on the internet!" her mother said, laughing and covering her mouth. "You this girl, you are not serious!" Ann was still recording. "Mom, come and say hi to my fans! They want to see the best cook!" "No, no, remove me. I am not fine," her mother said, but she was still smiling. Her eyes that were full of tears before were now full of light. For the first time that night, the house felt happy. Ann stopped the video and played it back. They both watched it and laughed again. The mother shook her head. "You are a drama queen," she said. "And you are the drama queen's mother," Ann replied. They were still laughing when a sound cut them. It was a phone ringing. It was not Ann's phone. It was her mother's old small phone on the table. It was ringing loudly. Both of them kept quiet. Her mother looked at the phone. Then she looked at the window. It was dark outside. It was already night. "Who can be calling me by this time of the night?" she said. Her voice was worried again. "Who could be calling me by this time? Maybe it is a customer? Or maybe something bad happened?" Ann also looked at the phone. The phone was still ringing. "Mama, pick it," Ann said quietly. "Maybe it is good news." Her mother wiped her hands on her wrapper. Her hands were shaking again. She reached for the phone slowly to answer the call.