Everyone else was up but I stayed in bed. I did not want to face another day of school. School instilled fear in me. Fear of making a mistake and being hit by the teachers, fear of being away from my mother; fear of being away from home. I hated to put on my scratchy, starched school uniform. The white shirt and the blue skirt coveralls were the costume of the oppressed. Every weekend Mammy painstakingly washed all of our uniforms, hung them to dry and ironed on Sunday night so we would have clean uniforms on Monday morning. I hated the white shirt with the crisp inside pocket and the blue skirt with the wide accordion pleats. I could never keep my socks up so I would use rubber bands at the top of my calves where I would stretch the knee socks as far as it would go. I would the carefully fold over the top of the socks so that the rubber bands did not show and they would keep my socks high up on my calves until I ran or they slowly slipped down around my ankles.
This morning I rebelled and decided that I simply would not get out of bed. One by one my sisters came upstairs to get me up. “Get up; you’re going to be late for school”. I decided then that I was going to be sick. “My leg hurts and I can’t get up” At this Mammy came to check on me. She made me get out of bed and I carefully hobbled around the bedroom. My left leg was bent and I refused to touch it to the floor. I was carried downstairs and made to sit on the kitchen table while Mammy inspected my leg. The other kids were quickly fed and hurried off to school. I overheard my Mother in a worried voice tell my older sisters that this “would be the 6th case in the village this year” I slowly understood what this meant. Polio was slowly taking its grip on some of the local children and parents lived in fear that it would invade their home. One of the symptoms, unbeknownst to me, was paralysis of the leg. I had picked the perfect ailment to cause fear and worry at home.
I sat on the kitchen table carefully watching my mother. She had taken the broom and was sweeping the breakfast crumbs off the kitchen floor. As she swept the tears slowly rolled down her cheeks and she silently cried. I was beside myself with guilt. I couldn’t believe how worried I had made her. How could I tell her that it was all a pretense to get a day off from school? It would be better, I thought, if I really did have Polio than to admit lying and confessing to causing needless turmoil.
I sent a strong, silent prayer to God. I prayed and prayed that I would really have Polio, right then, that second so I would not be lying to my mother. I continued praying for a few minutes then I tested my leg. To my dismay it was still as healthy as when I had woken up that morning. How I agonized what to do. My mother was about to get dressed and call for a taxi to take us to the hospital. How was I going to keep up the façade to a bunch of doctors? I would be found out immediately. Plus, we didn’t have any extra money so the taxi fare would cause further distress to the family. I focused on God and prayed even harder for Polio but still the leg confounded me with its vigor and good health. I prayed so hard that I felt the veins in my temples bulging with prayer and still there was no illness. I had to do something immediately and the miracle from God was not materializing. The longer I perpetuated this charade the harder it was going to be to admit the truth.
Finally, I decided that I had to cease the deception and take the spanking that was due to me. I started crying and from the kitchen table I called, “Mammy, I have something to tell you.” She came over to me and as we both cried I said in a low voice,”I really don’t’ have polio, I was only lying to stay home from school” and I sobbed hysterically with shame. Then, the real miracle occurred, my mother stopped crying and started laughing and hugging me. She was too relieved to be angry. I escaped the licks that I was expecting. I spent my ill-gotten day off from school running around on my two good legs playing with a stray puppy in the backyard. Life was good again.
unbecomingjane 