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Authors: Hubert Selby
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Maria lay within her bandages, feeling herself breathe in and out, in and out, mommys here, mommys here….
and so passed the minutes and hours of the morning, the comings and goings, the hangings and clangings, the moaning and crying, all sitting quietly, wordlessly….
until, in time, the food cart came. The food server put Marias tray on the bedside stand and when the two women looked at her questioningly she showed them how to place the tray over the bed and how to crank up the bed so Maria could sit up and eat, But there dont be nothin much there to tell you the truth honey, jus some broth and jello…an the milk—She looked at Marias bandaged face—Guess you caint handle much anyway—she turned to the 2 women and lowered her voice, You bes be bringin much food you can from home. A person could be gettin mighty hungry they try an live on the food here—an she winked and continued distributing the trays. The woman in the bed next to Maria looked over at them, An you can believe it—toying with the food on her tray, shaking her head, wrinkling her nose, closing her eyes and sighing—If you can survive this food you can survive anythin—she smiled at them—Makes people want to leave as soon as possible—and she laughed and held her nose with one hand and picked up a piece of food with her fork. Marias mother smiled and nodded her head and told her mother that tomorrow they would bring soup for Maria and later she would go get something she would like. She and Maria looked at the soup, smelled it, looked at each other and smiled and the grandmother got up and stretched over to look at the tray, and then at them, then sat down and blessed herself and returned to praying.
Marias mother looked at her daughter for a moment, forcing herself to smile, Are you comfortable like that? Should I make you higher in the bed? Maria nodded and her mother raised the back of the bed and the woman next to her said, Raise the bottom a little too, so you wont slide down, know what I mean? She looked at the woman for a moment, then nodded, Si, si —and raised the bottom a little so Maria could sit comfortably in the bed. Her mother blessed the food and started feeding Maria, the woman in the next bed laughing, It take more than that—and Marias mother carefully fitted the spoon into Marias mouth, watching her as she swallowed, watching her eyes blink and the bandages move, What is it? Marias voice almost inaudible, vibrating with fear and pain. They say it is soup—she shrugged, I will bring something from home…tomorrow. Later I can buy what you want…ice cream you would like ice cream????—and she smiled at her daughter as she carefully raised another spoon of soup, Maria turning her head slightly, I cant eat momma…I feel bad. I know, but the soup will strengthen you…please, one more….Maria slowly turned toward her mother and opened her mouth just enough for her to get the spoon in and Maria clutched her hands as she swallowed and shook her head, No more momma…my stomach is bad—and she laid her hands on her abdomen and her mother looked at her for a moment, then put the spoon down and opened the container of milk and put the straw in, then held it close enough for Maria to put the straw in her mouth. She took a few sips of milk then leaned back and rested, once again clutching her hands into fists, her mother watching carefully, This tastes better?—smiling—Yes…but it too hurts—once again putting her hands on her abdomen. Perhaps some jello? Maybe…one minute.
Suddenly there was mumbling from across the room and a voice that was obviously upset though the words were unintelligible. The grandmother got up and walked over to the bed and spoke to the woman in Spanish who looked at her as she continued to reach toward her bed-side
and so passed the minutes and hours of the morning, the comings and goings, the hangings and clangings, the moaning and crying, all sitting quietly, wordlessly….
until, in time, the food cart came. The food server put Marias tray on the bedside stand and when the two women looked at her questioningly she showed them how to place the tray over the bed and how to crank up the bed so Maria could sit up and eat, But there dont be nothin much there to tell you the truth honey, jus some broth and jello…an the milk—She looked at Marias bandaged face—Guess you caint handle much anyway—she turned to the 2 women and lowered her voice, You bes be bringin much food you can from home. A person could be gettin mighty hungry they try an live on the food here—an she winked and continued distributing the trays. The woman in the bed next to Maria looked over at them, An you can believe it—toying with the food on her tray, shaking her head, wrinkling her nose, closing her eyes and sighing—If you can survive this food you can survive anythin—she smiled at them—Makes people want to leave as soon as possible—and she laughed and held her nose with one hand and picked up a piece of food with her fork. Marias mother smiled and nodded her head and told her mother that tomorrow they would bring soup for Maria and later she would go get something she would like. She and Maria looked at the soup, smelled it, looked at each other and smiled and the grandmother got up and stretched over to look at the tray, and then at them, then sat down and blessed herself and returned to praying.
Marias mother looked at her daughter for a moment, forcing herself to smile, Are you comfortable like that? Should I make you higher in the bed? Maria nodded and her mother raised the back of the bed and the woman next to her said, Raise the bottom a little too, so you wont slide down, know what I mean? She looked at the woman for a moment, then nodded, Si, si —and raised the bottom a little so Maria could sit comfortably in the bed. Her mother blessed the food and started feeding Maria, the woman in the next bed laughing, It take more than that—and Marias mother carefully fitted the spoon into Marias mouth, watching her as she swallowed, watching her eyes blink and the bandages move, What is it? Marias voice almost inaudible, vibrating with fear and pain. They say it is soup—she shrugged, I will bring something from home…tomorrow. Later I can buy what you want…ice cream you would like ice cream????—and she smiled at her daughter as she carefully raised another spoon of soup, Maria turning her head slightly, I cant eat momma…I feel bad. I know, but the soup will strengthen you…please, one more….Maria slowly turned toward her mother and opened her mouth just enough for her to get the spoon in and Maria clutched her hands as she swallowed and shook her head, No more momma…my stomach is bad—and she laid her hands on her abdomen and her mother looked at her for a moment, then put the spoon down and opened the container of milk and put the straw in, then held it close enough for Maria to put the straw in her mouth. She took a few sips of milk then leaned back and rested, once again clutching her hands into fists, her mother watching carefully, This tastes better?—smiling—Yes…but it too hurts—once again putting her hands on her abdomen. Perhaps some jello? Maybe…one minute.
Suddenly there was mumbling from across the room and a voice that was obviously upset though the words were unintelligible. The grandmother got up and walked over to the bed and spoke to the woman in Spanish who looked at her as she continued to reach toward her bed-side
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