Isha
“Isha, Isha, come along, we’ll miss it” Grandfather called as he hobbled down the wonky back steeps. “I’m coming Grandfather, wait for me” Isha called, her wavy brown hair pulled back by the wind as she raced to catch up with the shadow of the old man as it swayed to and fro, descending down the sloping paddock towards the tall slightly slumped weeping willow in the distance.
“Hurry Isha” Grandfather called as he watched the small figure stumble down the hill towards him. “Have I missed it? Oh Grandfather, please tell me I haven’t missed it” Isha sobbed as she frantically scanned the Grey horizon. “No Isha, watch carefully” Grandfather whispered as he hugged the tiny shaking body to his own. Isha strained her eyes and as if it were magic the sky suddenly lit up, wonderful shades of Orange and Reds threw themselves upon the grey canvas before them. “Mummy” Isha sobbed quietly as she watched the colours dance before her. “Gloria” Grandfather coughed, his arms pulling Isha closer, stoking her hair with his free hand.
Isha looked up at her grandfathers creased face, her eyes wet with tears and her smile forced. “Mummy” she choked, watching the colours slowly fade as the grey returned. “Come on long Isha, it’s time for bed” Grandfather stuttered as he turned and started swaying up the hill.
Isha remained rooted to the spot, her eyes snapped shut. “Bring them back mummy, bring your daughter the colours” she cried. “Isha, Please, come along” Grandfather called once again, he was standing on the deck, looking older than Isha had even seen him. She was seven now, her mother would be 32, so how old does that make grandfather? “I’m Coming” she called up the hill to the frail old man. It was getting darker, the grey was quickly shifting to black and the tiny holes in the sky were appearing, as if they were watching. Isha shivered as she looked up at the large darkening sky above her. Life is so short.
***
“Isha, Darling are you coming?” a soft voice called, breaking Isha from her day dream. “Yeah, ok” she gulped “Bye Mum, Bye Grandfather” she whispered, a few stray tears falling to her checks.
“You ok Honey?” Mrs James asked as she draped her arm around Isha’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine” she sniffed, forcing a smile. “Well that’s my girl, how about we go grab some ice cream and head for the park” Mrs James suggested, her straight blonde hair whipping around her face.
Isha just shrugged as she settled into the back seat of the black convertible, Mrs James smiled into the mirror as she slid her glasses up her nose and revved the car. Isha sat back in her seat and pushed one of Symone’s toys around with her feet, it looked so out of place in the tidy car, Mrs James must not have noticed it as she cleaned her car. Isha smiled as she thought of Symone, when Mrs James adopted Isha two years ago she also adopted a little girl, only a few months old with a crop of blonde hair and deep brown eyes. Mrs James named her Symone after her great aunty and together they packed the two girls few positions and left the social workers biting their dust.
Isha was thankful Mrs James had adopted her, and she loved having a baby sister, but she was forever crying for her grandfather who had not lived to see her turn ten, he had wanted that, said double figures were a big deal and the Isha could have anything she wanted, all she said she wanted was her Grandfather, but she never got it. That’s why Mrs James agreed to the monthly visits to the old house, she knew Isha was hurting and it wouldn’t do her any more harm to watch the sun set once every month.
“Mother” Isha struggled; it always hurt to call another person that after she had been to the house. “Yes my darling” Mrs James smiled, “Why do some people get the raw end of the deal and others get everything they want?” she asked quizzing, Mrs James pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned around so she was facing Isha, “if you are referring to the fact that some people see life in black and white and others see it in colour it is because the good lord decided that some people were special enough to have a different point of view, so to speak, you my dear are just one of those special people” Mrs James trailed off.
Isha smiled, and this time it wasn’t forced. “Now get that skinny butt into the front seat” Mrs James laughed, patting the seat beside her. Isha scrambled over the seat and let her eyes wander all over the car, she had never been in the front seat, Mrs James had always said she wanted to have her babies safely tucked away behind her, no mater what car they were in, which Isha had always though was pretty silly considering three of her four cars had no seat belts in the back. “Buckle up baby and hold on for the ride” Mrs James screeched as she pulled back into the line of traffic and headed for home.
“So are we still up for ice cream or are you itching to see that sister of yours?” Mrs James asked as the pair sat waiting at the lights. “Why can’t Sym have Ice Cream too? We could pick up a tub and take it home, it will be heaps cheaper and that way we can be home just in time for the footy!” Isha boomed, she knew it was Mrs James plan all along, but she just loved voicing it. “Footy it is” Mrs James laughed, her eyes twinkling. Isha laughed too, but deep down inside she was hurting, she wished she could see the real colour of Mrs James eyes, People always tried to explain them to her but gave up, saying they were to beautiful for words.
Isha had always though that’s what attracted the men; they came in flocks, herds, and stampedes! Mrs James would go through a “I’m sorry my daughters are my main priority stage” then she would hurtle into a stage Isha had nicknamed the “Hormone crazed teen sage” where Mrs James would struggle to find the names of her own children and could never bring herself to tell men she had been married and was now divorced. “A divorcee with kids never looks good my darling” She had explained over dinner once.
Isha turned towards the window, people were always accusing her of daydreaming, but she couldn’t help it, she got swept away with a thought and it would never stop, leaping from one subject to another and secretly Isha enjoyed it, it was her own little escape that she could tap into, any time, day or night.
Isha was on top of the world, she loved it when Mrs James was home; it was really great, they were a family, Mrs James, Isha and Symone. Really something, they never stopped laughing, its just when Mrs James was on business trips or in one of her hormone crazed moods that Isha really started Missing her family, Not really Mrs James which made her feel guilty but her mother and Grandfather, she would try and conjure up there images in her head, describe them to Rebecca, her closest friend who would sketch them, Rebecca’s a great artist, she could bring anything to life with her pencil.
But Now Isha found it harder; her mother’s soft looks were being replaced by Mrs James sharp but magnificent face.
Maybe it was a good thing, but Isha wasn’t quite sure, was she meant to forget about the past, her Heidi like life, living in the hills with her Grandfather. She defiantly had a better life now, she knew she had gone skyrocketing from the bottom of the food chain to living in a house that looks like a page out of a glossy magazine, and she was living her dream but was it really that good if her real flesh and blood couldn’t enjoy it to?
Isha shook her head, why was she always doing that? Of coarse it was a good thing, she was a normal teenage girl, she was 14 and had her whole life ahead of her and now it was going to be greater that she could ever imagine, two story houses, flash cars, so many clothes that they didn’t all fit in her wardrobe and everything at the tips of her fingers, no more hardships, no more things just out of reach or worrying about how Grandfather was going to pay for food that week or the power the next.
Before Isha Knew it Mrs James was pulling up to the two story white house that always seemed to tower over Isha, as if it knew she was not meant to be living in it, that she didn’t fit right.
“What about the Ice Cream?” Isha suddenly remembered. “We have some in the freezer, Mark loves his Ice Cream and a Woman should always keep his man Happy” Mrs James replied with a smile. Even if it is man 99? Isha thought, she didn’t know how Mrs James could jump from one bloke to another, it must be so exhausting, learning new habits, living through the same things she did with the last man “sure I’ll come to dinner at your parents house”, “I though we were to old for formality but I’ll still come to dinner at your Mothers”, “I’d love to try your Fathers spaghetti” it was never different, Mrs James running around trying to please whoever she had decided was worth the effort for that week but Isha had always thought Mrs James didn’t have much taste at all, she seemed to pick freeloaders, the men who would stick around for a couple of days, eat out of the fridge, watch T.V like he lived there and maybe even borrow a few dollars here or there and within a week he would be gone.
Isha opened the door and headed inside without a word, she hated thinking about Men, it reminded her of her Grandfather too much. “Ishy, Ishy” Symone giggled as toddled over towards the door.
“Hey Sym” Isha cooed back, sweeping her ever growing sister into her arms. “Sam wrang” Symone spat, her Little-kid-lisp slowly fading as she grew. “Did he?” Isha asked quizzing, touching Symone’s nose lightly. “Yup” Symone smiled proudly but Isha knew there conversation was over, Mrs James was heading towards them and Symone leapt from Isha’s arms and raced towards her.
“Mummy, Mummy” Symone cried as she danced around Mrs James’s legs. “Well hello My pumpkin, what have you been doing today?” She asked but Isha didn’t hear the reply, she was already day dreaming about Sam, Why had he rung?
