Tea Time
Pauline Ramsey
Death - what a strange and entrancin’ word. When I am alone, I try to understand why such a small word could mean so much to an entire world’s population. Go ahead – count the letters, only five that I can see. Let me just get comfortable now in my favorite flower patterned chair so that I may sip on my afternoon tea. I’ve always found chamomile to be quite sooth, even during the roughest parts of the day. Afternoon tea – what a delicious way to relax, don’t you agree?
Dear me, now what was I sayin’? Oh yes! I remember now, you’ll have to forgive me for I get a bit muddled sometimes. I was talkin’ about death wasn’t I? Yes, yes of course I was. It truly is a fascinatin’ thing to encounter when one lives as long as I have. Did I mention I am 94 years young? I don’t look a day over sixty, do I? Drinkin’ tea certainly helps with the agin’ process, I find it quite helpful when calmin’ your nerves and lowerin’ stress.
Anyway, where was I? I keep losin’ my train of thought. That’s right, as I was sayin’, I have seen plenty of people come and go durin’ my lifetime. My parents died when I was very young, I couldn’t have been much older than twelve. My father was a coal miner and was lost to my brother and I when the shaft collapsed. It took them three weeks before they could dig him and the other workers out. My mother died a few months later, people speculated that she died of a broken heart. I think that I agree with them.
When my mother and father were buried in Coalwood cemetery (it was named after the very thing our town mined), after their deaths my aunt Sophia came to collect my brother and I. I didn’t much care for the woman for she was a nasty old biddy with a terrible temper. Her punishments were harsh whenever we disobeyed her, she would whip us but good, I tell you. One day I accidentally broke one of her china plates, when she got a hold of me I couldn’t sit for a week and that’s not exaggeratin’!
We lived with Sophia until we were a rightful age and soon thereafter we laid the foundation down for our own lives. Three years after my brother John moved out of her old and dingy house, she died of a massive heart attack. I’ll tell you a secret, come closer. I was so happy when I learned that she was dead! I was thrilled to know that I no longer had to deal with her comin’ and callin’ on me when she knew she was not welcomed in my home. I was glad because I wouldn’t haven’t to listen to her bicker and complain about how my parents were so selfish for leavin’ her saddled with two “unruly” children. I wanted to tongue lash her but I always bit back the words. Thank the good Lord she’s gone!
My goodness! It sure is a nice day out here, come sit down with me and enjoy a cup of tea. There you are dear, you’ll be right as rain in no time. Help yourself to a biscuit, please I insist. It isn’t a proper teatime without a biscuit, now is it? That’s a good dear.
Now, where was I? You’re right - I was talking about aunt Sophia. John and I attended her funeral service and I’ll tell you one thing, that awful woman didn’t have a single friend there and we were the only family members she had left. Even Father Jordan didn’t give a damn about that woman and he’s a priest! He’s supposed to care about everyone, but I suppose that even he couldn’t muster up fake tears for her. What a wretched woman.
On with the story, shall we? Years after Sophia’s passin’ I married a man called Elias. He certainly was a piece of work, that man. How so? Well I’ll tell you, he spent all his free time boozin’, gamblin’ and chasin’ after women when I was at home takin’ care of his house and his children. Now Elias wasn’t all-bad of course. No one was except aunt Sophia that is. I believe that there is goodness in everyone, even if they don’t show it often. He had his carin’ side, sometimes he would bring me presents and flowers to try and hide the fact that he was after that harlot Jennifer down at the pub earlier that night. She had all of the town’s husbands after her, what a tramp she was! But what can I really say except, “Men will be men.”
Elias worked in the coalmines, just as my father did before he died. Every night I prayed that he’d return home safely. He was safe all right, but not home with wife and children. I often caught myself wondering how many women he had taken or if he fathered any bastard children. Sometimes I’d get riled up just thinkin’ about it!
The years dragged on and Elias kept up with his dirty deeds. He was a rotten scoundrel but from some unknown reason, even to me, I loved him. He was the father of my children and at that time, divorce was unheard of it. There was no such thing, you don’t know how lucky you young people are these days with all the advancements this society has made since then.
I’d go out shoppin’ for household necessities and I’d hear rumors flyin’ about town that he was fatherin’ illegitimate children and dippin’ his stick into dirty pools, if you know what I mean. When I heard this kind of nasty talk, I’d just hold my head high and ignored that incessant chatterin’. One thing I learned from Sophia, cryin’ about your problems never solved a thing. I used to tell my children the same thing when they were young. They learned early on that no one is gonna help you but yourself. It does seem a bit harsh but it did make them grow up to be independent adults.
Back to Elias now, I suppose. Every single night that man came home drunker than a skunk, I’d be up all night worried about him and he’d come in staggerin’ all about and messin’ up my nice tidy house. He was a jackass but I loved that man so much that it hurt. As soon as he lay down on our bed, sure enough, he’d pass right out and I’d be sittin’ there stewin in my own juices.
What’s that? Did I ever leave him, you ask? No my dear, I never left him. I never even got the chance. Why you ask? Well about thirty years ago or so, he was murdered. At least that’s what the police think. They told me that he was jumped by a small thin figure while he was leavin’ the pub one night. They found blood in the alley behind the bar, yet they didn’t find him. To this day they still haven’t recovered his body. My poor sweet Elias, I do miss him terribly. I miss him most durin’ teatime.
How come? Why my Elias personally made this tea, it’s all I have left of him. You think it’s wonderful tea do you? How thoughtful of you, you’re quite a darlin’. Sure there’s a secret ingredient, but I can’t spoil that now can I? It wouldn’t be as special if I told you what it was, now would it? Now go ahead and drink your tea, it certainly is the best way to relax.
