• Daddy’s Gone to War


    Mallory was seated on her playroom’s window watching the rain. The afternoon was dark and dreary, reflecting the mood within the home. She coughed loudly and then turned to her Mummy, who was arranging toys about the room.
    Mummy worked swiftly, finishing her work as soon as possible. Mallory noticed her mother was making to leave and began to have a coughing fit. Mummy turned slowly and looked at Mallory with quiet exhaustion.
    “Maybe you should lay down love, come now I’ll tuck you in.”
    Mallory, excited for her mother’s attention, rushed across the room to her bed. Mummy came to the bed, tucked her daughter in and kissed her forehead. Mallory noticed how old Mummy had begun to look. Her brown hair was streaked with gray and her pretty face covered with the slightest trace of wrinkles.
    “Sleep now darling, the doctor will be here tomorrow.”
    “Yes Mummy, I will.”
    “Good.” Mummy replied distractedly. “Well, I have things to do, I’ll leave you to rest.”
    Mallory said “I love you Mummy!” But by the time she formed the words, her mother was gone. She had a way of always disappearing.

    Sometime later Mallory was awoken. She glanced around searching for the source of her waking. She suddenly found herself staring into a pair of gleaming black eyes.
    “Wanna play?”
    Mallory sighed with relief at the familiar voice. She quickly straightened herself up, hoping her fear didn’t show.
    “Of course not, I’m resting. You know I’m sick.”
    Maura sat on the edge of her bed, looking down at Mallory. Her black hair blazed in the moonlight. She wore a simple black dress with long sleeves.
    “Let’s play a trick on Mummy.”
    “No Maura, not tonight. I don’t feel good.”
    “If you don’t help me with the trick, then I’ll hurt you.”
    Mallory sighed, then accepted. “Okay, but nothing mean.”
    “Nothing mean,” Maura replied with a smile.

    The next morning Mallory woke to the bright morning’s sunlight. She heard the radio on downstairs, and knew Mummy was up. Mallory got dressed quickly and hurried down the steps. She noticed that this would be the first time in weeks that she had left the playroom. At least during the day.
    Mummy was in the den looking at a picture of Daddy in his uniform. Daddy was away at war, and Mallory hadn’t seen him in a long time. Mummy must miss him too. She looked up and noticed Mallory with surprise.
    “Your out of bed dear?”
    “Yes Mummy, I feel very good today.”
    “Oh that’s lovely darling,” Mummy said with a smile.
    Mallory realized it had been a long time since she had seen Mummy smile. But before Mallory had time to return the smile, it faded as quickly as it appeared. Mummy suddenly looked deadly serious.
    “Where are Daddy’s letters, Mallory?”
    “I don’t know.” Mallory replied too quickly.
    Mummy gazed at her skeptically, “Hmm? Well if I don’t have them, and you don’t have them. Then where are they?”
    “Why don’t you ever accuse Maura, Mummy? It’s always Maura!”
    Mallory could tell she was in for a scolding but before Mummy could begin a special news report began on the radio. Mummy became quiet.
    “We interrupt your daily programming for a Special News Report, Hitler’s War has taken a dramatic turn after-”
    The newscast was cut short as Mummy turned the dial. Then she slumped in to a nearby couch with what resolution she had left. Mallory looked up, concerned, at her mother’s sudden exhaustion.
    “What did that man mean Mum? Who is Hitler? Does Daddy know him? When is Daddy coming home Mum?”
    “Hitler is the devil, Mallory,” Mummy answered quietly and then put her head in her hands.
    Mallory knew all too well that once Mummy was like this, she’d never reach her. As she left the room, she heard Mummy begin to sob.

    By noon Mallory had begun to lose her color and retired to bed. The doctor arrived not long after and Mallory waited patiently for him to make his way up the stairs. Mallory had never been afraid of the doctor, as many children her age were, in fact she enjoyed his company. He reminded her of a grandfather she had always wished for.
    Mummy followed Dr. Harcourt as he quietly entered the playroom. Dr. Harcourt gave Mallory a goofy smile, making her giggle.
    “Mallory doll, I hear you’ve been feeling better lately, is that so?”
    “Yes Mr. Harcourt sir. I even played downstairs a little today!”
    “Ah, well isn’t that lovely dear! How about we have a little check up to see how things are going now, okay?”
    Mallory nodded, used to the exams. She had been having them regularly for a few months now. She explained her frequent dizziness and cough. He listened carefully to each word, and checked her tonsils and nostrils. After about a fifteen minutes, Dr. Harcourt rose from his chair turning to Mummy.
    “Well, Mrs. Monroe I do believe Mallory is improving. Would you like to talk further in the hall?”
    “Of course doctor. Mallory how about you try and get some rest and I’ll bring your supper up in a short while, okay dear?”
    “Yes Mummy, but wait sir, do you know what I have yet?”
    Dr Harcourt’s eyes twinkled as he replied simply, “A sickness, poppet.”
    Before Mallory could further question her ailment the doctor and her mother walked quickly out of the room. Mallory laid staring at the ceiling for a few seconds wondering why she wasn’t told details about her illness. She crept to her door and tried to overhear their conversation. From where she was she could only catch snatches of the quiet talk.
    “-illusions, Mrs. Monroe.”
    “What can I…alone-”
    “Wait…traumatic…still very young.”
    Mallory listened as her mother began to sob loudly. Dr. Harcourt said quietly, “There, there Mrs. Monroe. We’re in a war, and it’s bad all over.”

    That night Mallory sat playing with her dollhouse. She had slept nearly all day and was feeling restless. Maura sat beside her, and they both were heavily entranced in their make believe land.
    “Maura, the daddy can’t come home yet! He went off to war, and wars take a long time.”
    Maura laid the doll down and picked up the mother. She used her one good hand, knowing it was a rule she wasn’t allowed to show the other. She placed the mother doll in the den.
    “Happy now? Our doll family is sad and boring.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Well, the daddy’s gone and all the mum does is cry,” Maura smiled. “That leaves the sister doll to mischief.”
    “Oh Maura! It’s always tricks with you! Why can’t the sister doll be nice?”
    “Because Miss Goody-Goody, if the girl doll is nice and did nothing but stay quiet, I’d bet the mum would forget she even existed.”

    That night as Maura and Mallory were off to their tricks, Mallory glanced in the hall mirror. She realized she looked very much like her father. She saw that her blond hair was exactly the same color as his, and their eyes a matching shade of blue. Noticing these similarities Mallory began to feel a heavy pain in her chest, and nearly lost her breath. But before she could form a single tear, Maura was pulling her down the hallway. Mallory noticed with disgust that she was being pulled with Maura’s deformed hand.

    The next morning Mallory woke to Mummy screaming. “How could you? How could you?” She kept repeating the phrase. Mallory sat up and snuck down the hall to her mother. Mummy was quietly crying in Daddy’s study, holding cut and distorted pictures. She swiveled back to face her daughter. “Why Mallory? Why?”
    “Maura told me to do it Mummy…”
    “Oh Maura this and Maura that! Mallory you are far too old for imaginary friends!”
    Mallory looked at her mother in shock. “Mummy…I…”
    “Don’t try to pretend you don’t live in some warped fantasy world! Stop living these illusions Mallory! Can’t you see your killing me?”
    “Illusions Mummy?” Tears began to flow from Mallory’s eyes.
    “Yes Mallory illusions! Your not sick, you never were! You made it all up after Daddy’s funeral. And this monster you’ve formed. What do you call it, Maura? Well that’s not real either. The only truth in this house is the truth of the horrible things you’ve done. You’ve ruined all we have left of Daddy. And I’m tired of playing your games. You liar!”

    That night as Mallory laid in bed remembering Daddy’s death, realizing she never was sick, and forcing herself to face how strange she really was, a figure began to appear. Maura was floating directly above her bed, her deformed hand like a claw and her eyes glowing red. “Wanna play Mallory?” She spat, a mischievous smile forming.