The Treasure Trove

This entry is part 9 of 17 in the series Issue XII: Spring 2013 Prose

By Suzanne Lapka

The family nuclear, extended, warring, loving, exasperating, and all-encompassing. I operate in this massive body. I am a cog in this pulsating contraption. I pirouette and sashay. I genuflect, rise, then collapse and dream.

This overpowering unit stretches me, bringing me knowledge, philosophy, and love. The best, a sticky, wet kiss, and as I enter a bear hug around my knees Amelia chirps, “what did you bring me?” My suitcase is filled with treasures. A pop-up Peter Pan book worthy of a gallery show, robots, legos, dolls, watercolors, jewelry, chocolate (Hershey’s and Belgium), baels, clothes, diaries, trucks, transformers, and gold dollars.

These gifts for adults and children in this magical valise on wheels. Each present is especially chosen. If it’s your birthday (three in May), expensive and unique.

I shop, regift nd create. This lure, clearance sale and coupons. I lug this suitcase everywhere. I vow each time to come “all by myself” but I don’t want to miss those sloppy kisses and glowing smiles.

Each family member wants something more. They have their own agenda. I am asked to advise, mediate, a lullaby on financial support. Do I cosign a second load? Why am I the only one with a perfect credit score? Is there no one else to go to? Everyone is tapped out with second mortgages and second jobs.

I am so caught up in the machine. I must attend to my own needs first. I suffer from some of these demands. Let the machine purr in neutral. I must, I must shore up my forces for body and spirit.

I pull in the corners, planting myself in the middle of my bed, my oasis. Surrounded by a book pads and chocolate. No phone, no mail, and no makeup. Hot shower, massager pushing on my lower back, and shoulders. Television, warm tomato soup, fresh tulips and music to dream with.

This cog has a support. They wine and dine me, trips to the theater and East Hampton; and Yarmouth. There is a reciprocity. There is an unending love that permeates my being. All the circular motion courses through me, pushing this massive engine. The switch is on full force.


Issue Navigation<< Hunger, Greed & Freedom: An Immigrant’s Story | This is Our Party >>