Bribe

Children grow up. Children become independent. And more than anything, they begin to want. To hold desires for things that aren’t given to them. Even though Mommy knows best...

“Mommy, when can I go to school?”

A chill went down my spine. I knew. I had always known. Such a time was fast approaching. I stared at Devin, who was just shy of being able to go to Kindergarten. It was natural that he was curious.

After all, I saw the stares as he looked out the window of our passing car. The brief moments when he could see other people about, the outside world. Not long before, he would point and think not much of them. But now, he constantly wondered.

Who are they?

Can I play with them?

Why do we keep away?

Why do we never talk to them?

As much as we had adapted to a remote life of little contact, there was always something that needed to be done in person. Even if one’s job was done completely at home, there were errands to run, groceries to pick up, and necessities to restock. Devin’s toys didn’t always magically show up on the front porch. Especially, if it was a location as far from the city as here.

But I had done as much as possible to fill our home with everything a child ever needed: rickety bookshelves crammed with books from people whose children had outgrown; a nursery of toys, aged but nonetheless well-loved; a kitchen filled with a mother’s spice and decorated with crafts done in togetherness. Devin had everything that could possibly draw his eyes into endless moments of joy. A life filled with moments of Devin and me.

But inevitably, there would come a time when Devin realized that we were not like other families. That he couldn’t just go out and play with other children and be normal. Our situation wouldn’t allow for it.

“Honey… I don’t think we can make that work. But you know what? We can make a school and do everything we need right here. I’ll be the teacher, and we can get some textbooks, learn in class, and-”

“But Mommy, what about friends?”

A look of confusion was plastered upon his face. It was clear from his picture books that it wasn’t school if there weren’t others sitting next to him – making conversation, showing off their interests, and doing things together.

“Mommy is your friend, aren’t I?”

My reply was met with puffed out cheeks. Obviously, he wasn’t thrilled about my answer. That culminated into a fight, as he just couldn’t see the reasons for it otherwise. School was not home. School was somewhere else. A place separate from home where he could be with someone other than Mommy. His expression was the same as when he felt bored of something. Like he was bored of me.

I felt hurt.

I felt betrayed.

I didn’t ever want to let him go.

Our situation wouldn’t allow for something normal like that to happen. If it had, then I wouldn’t have fled the hospital with him in my arms. I wouldn’t have completely disregarded the doctors, telling me that my child would never live a normal life anyways.

We were in hiding for a reason. I couldn’t let others find out. They and their ways of tracking us. Medical records, residency documents, and identification – all of those had been forged with the utmost care. It was given that interacting with other people carelessly was a no-no.

Because of that, going to school was out of the question. I couldn’t let others see Devin. I couldn’t let them think too carefully about why we were here. And most of all… I simply didn’t want to let him out of my sight.

Not knowing what else to do, I simply hugged Devin and apologized. Giving any number of excuses I could think of to somewhat satisfy his young mind, offering alternative after alternative to change topics, and finally… giving him treats that he normally didn’t get.

That was all I could do to stem the desire that had slowly built up, his desire to interact with anyone other than myself. He was getting to the age where Mommy wasn’t everything in his world.

Eyes that couldn’t be shielded for much longer. Curiosity that no longer flickered from one shiny moment to the next. And a voice that became more defiant with each passing week.

Having one’s boundaries contested by even one more person felt like a heavy cloud upon my thoughts. That was why I could no longer stand being with anyone else. Because more and more, things spiraled out of control.

Like the angry cries of a child misunderstanding, it felt like my hold on life continued to slip away. And with that, I would be left out in the cold once again, shivering and with no one beside me.

That is why I wouldn’t allow for it…

Because Devin was my whole world. He had been for these past four years. He would be for many more. And I would do everything to keep it that way.

I didn’t want to feel alone. Nor cold. The flame of his little body was made just for me.

I continued to hold him, his sniffles at not getting what he wanted slowly dying down. He was content for the time being, promises of extra sweets and staying up to watch cartoons still an effective form of bribery.

But what of tomorrow? Or next week? At what point would his childish desires mature into a sense of purpose? And at what moment would he see beyond all the lies?

Hopefully, not soon.

I could only pray, and plan accordingly.