Pursuit of happiness

Don't you hate it when you get caught in an argument you have nothing to do with? An argument between one person you barely know and someone who you don't know at all. That's how my interview started.

Okay, not technically started, I went to Mrs Bee's house, those sides of Kianda school. Got lost quite a few times too. Her direction giving skills were seriously lacking if you ask me. If I followed her directions to the letter, I'd be in Peru, waiting for her at a gas station.

 Anyway I get to her beautiful home and she offers me an assortment of food and drinks, all lined up on her dining table. Enough food to feed a family of camels.

When I mention that and ask if she was having a party before I got there, she just laughs and says no, she didn't know what I would like so she got variety. Her laugh, by the by, makes me feel like I'm the best comedian in the world. Well until her house help says something to her and she laughs the same laugh. Then I know she makes everyone feel like that.

She fusses over me until I pick out a few things and we just sit there by the food making small talk. She tells me she has a son about my age and we would get along.

"You don't drink or do those drugs for young people, do you?" She asks me all serious and like she's about to get the red slippers out if I say yes.

 I say no and she smiles big and says how I would be a good influence on her son. I'm about to slyly direct her towards the story for today, the story her daughter told me about, when a young man comes bursting through shouting on the phone.

"No Shee, I have to" he ends his call looking livid and directs his anger filled eyes to Mrs Bee.

"Why did you do it?! Do you know how much trouble I'm in?"

Mrs Bee moves to stand up then sit then stand up, as she says
"Well, I'm sorry but Sharon thinks.."

"I don't care what Shee thinks, you're punishing me out of some rumours!" His voice inching higher and higher, and Mrs Bee's stays,ever so calm, like her previous statement wasn't just cut off by this strange young man,

"Those were not rumours, I saw for myself, you had..."

"And I explained it to you! They weren't mine! You just want to support Shee and her lies about me! You're My Mum! And you want to believe Shee over me! She's not even flesh and blood!"

Mrs Bee rears back like she's just been slapped and then is when I think he sees me sitting there witnessing all this. He Clears his throat then tells me

"Excuse us, my mother and I need to talk"

I'm wondering where one goes when they have been excused in a house they're a guest in. I stand thinking if I should go outside, or go to the next room, or just go home and call this interview a bust.

Mrs Bee tells me to sit, then her son  tells me to go. And I'm caught in that awkward sit-stand position for a few seconds. Mrs Bee finally looses her cool and barks at me to sit (Mrs Bee,you really did bark) which I do looking down at the food before me.
She turns to me and says

" Meet my son Les, he's the one I was just telling you about. He's going to sit and have a snack and be quiet or he will go so that I can finish my interview. Now what were you going to ask my dear?"

Les looks at his mother realising he has been dismissed, drops a few f-bombs and leaves with as much vigour as he came in with.

"Umm, well" I sip my juice which also tastes like it just saw and heard all that I just saw and heard. And I realize I didn't turn off the recorder.

Mrs Bee apologizes and dabs at the corner of her eye, the side close to the bridge of her elegant tiny nose. She says sorry again and tells me to wait in her back yard she'll be with me soon. I'm guessing she's gone to dry her tears but I pretend I don't see that she's crying.

I find my way to her backyard which looks like a dream, short even green grass, a big sturdy mango tree, a swing set with blue painted wood as the seats, and a rocking chair facing all this.

I go to the swing set wondering if they only come in even numbers and sit. The childish part of me wants to swing to the highest height I can reach then jump down to prove that I still got it. But my adulting side takes over and I wait.

Playing back the conversation Les just had with his mother, I wonder what his full name is. I wonder how my mum would react if I cussed in front of her. Then I stop wondering because I know, she would whoop my butt so hard, all of my future generations would be born with a dull ache on their behinds, as residual effect. Kidding, I don't know what she would do now that I'm older.

Mrs Bee practically sneaks up on me during all these thoughts and sits on the other swing so when I turn I'm so shocked I almost fall backwards. And she shoots out her arm to steady me.
She quiet for a while, then she speaks,
"When you came, I thought you looked too young to tell my story to, but I still wanted to. Now, I think I'll tell you a different story, if you're up for it." I nod.

" Les was born after many many failed years of trying to have children. He was our screw driver."

She sees the confused look in my face and answers my unasked question.

"Screw drivers tighten up loose screws. Dan, my husband thinks we would have lost a few screws without Les. We would be made crazy by our fears and feelings of inadequacy. Also people talked, Dan's parents thought I was useless. What is a woman if she can't bear children.

We already had a child though. We adopted Shee, Sharon. She was the one who contacted you. Then Les was born a few years later.

About this time last year, he started taking drugs. I think it was last year. I don't know for sure. Two weeks ago we stopped putting money into his account. That's what he was shouting about when he came. But Dan and I won't support him while he fails his semesters and uses his money to drink and smoke bhangi. I don't know what kind of trouble he's in though, maybe he owes money"

"What year is he in?" I ask

"4th year, Literature major. I was so proud he was following in his father's footsteps. But now, his steps look nothing like Dan's." She tells me looking sadly at her big fantastic house. I look at it.

"You have a lovely home"

"Riches can't solve everything, remember that. Sometimes, it even seems that money and happiness are inversely proportional. As money increases, happiness decreases. But only if you aren't careful. So hold on to the happiness you have now. Fight to be happy. It should never be an afterthought."

My phone buzzes and I know I should get going. I tell her, and she walks me to her door. As she opens it, I ask her
"Do you think you'll ever be on good terms again? Will he ever see things from your perspective?"

"I don't need him to see my point of view, I want him to find it in himself to do better, to be better. The other day he said such mean words to me and his sister. We only want the best for him, but he's wearing down my patience. His father is the more patient one, I give up easily. But I miss him. He's the funniest silliest most joyful child when he's himself."

I thank her and she gives me a hug, takes my hands in hers and says
" When you come next, we will strive to put some meat into these bony hands eh?"

I laugh, because that's what I do when I don't know what to say, and say goodbye.
I get to the gate and find her son waiting.

" How did my mother justify not giving me any money?" He asks

" Your mum thinks you're the funniest silliest most joyful kid. Don't be the guy who misses out on his family" I say as I walk away. And just for good measure I turn back and echo his mother's advice "Fight to be happy."