On a street there are beautiful houses, clean exteriors, brightly painted doors and windows, manicured lawns and swept porches. Myra walks past them everyday going home from work, Myra worked in the small neighbourhood grocery store, she was new to that area, new to that city. Myra knew no one other people other than her co-workers in the store. She lived with her husband, whose change of job brought her here.
The place was nice, quiet streets, lined with tidy houses, Myra lived on the other side of the busy road, the road which divided the locality. It was a nice and clean terrace, on two levels, Myra had a patch of garden which greatly comforted her.
That evening while walking on that street with beautiful houses, Myra was on the lookout for a particular house, house number 12, she wanted to know how the house looked like!
Growing up Myra always envied the big houses, the exteriors promised a world of happy possibility inside. Myra almost imagined constant laughter, joy and celebration within these walls. She attributed big, beautiful houses to success and celebration of life!
What happened in the store today however greatly shook her faith!
It was 10 am and a happy girl strode in to the shop, she was roughly 15 years of age, medium built and had super-short, brown, wispy hair. The girl kept moving between the aisles, she kept looking back and forward and then stood still in between for a fair amount of time. It was a busy morning and the constant stream of customers kept Myra very busy. After an hour the girl was still there with a completely lost look on her face, there was a lull in the day’s business finally, Myra walked over and asked the girl, ‘Hello are you looking for something?’.
The girl smiled at her and with a watery look in her eyes said ‘Actually I don’t know…’, she trailed off.
Myra persisted ‘Do you want to buy something?’
The girl with her hands behind her back, a lucid smile replied, ‘ I was ,I was, but now I don’t know.’
Myra moved nearer to her and smelt her breath, she got nothing, somehow the girl’s answers did not make any sense, Myra wanted to know whether she was under the influence of alcohol or any drugs. The girl behaved unnaturally, she seemed calm yet her eyes were hazy and she kept shifting on her feet. Moreover she was standing inside a shop with absolutely no purpose.
Myra did not know what to do, she finally changed her questions, ‘ Are you with somebody?’
‘Yes I am …with my mother’, replied the girl.
‘What’s you name?’
‘I am Bella, what’s yours?’
‘That’s a nice name, I am Myra and I work here.’
‘Bella do you want me to call your mother?’
Myra decided that something was decidedly wrong about Bella and it was not something external, it was something internal.
‘No I am alright, I am out shopping!’
Myra probed further, ‘What are you shopping for?’
‘Oh well! I’m not sure anymore’ , saying, Bella gave a wide, toothy smile.
At that moment Myra spotted a card around Bella’s neck, it was tucked away under her cardigan.
‘Can I have a look at the card around your neck, Bella?’
Bella pulled out her card from underneath her cardigan, the card read, ‘Please call 045986345 if you see the card holder, she might be lost!’
Myra rushed to the counter and dialled the number, a lady picked up sounding extremely worried, Myra filled her in.
After hanging up Myra gave Bella a stool to sit and a juice carton to drink, it was blackcurrant, Bella’s favourite flavour. Within five minutes a well-dressed lady entered the shop with a worried look, her face washed over with relief on seeing Bella. Bella stood up on seeing her and introduced Myra to her, referring to her as her mother. Myra learnt that Bella had some form of degenerative disease, called MLD, due to which she was rapidly losing her memory and processing. Bella lived in one of the houses on that beautiful street.
Thanking Myra profusely, mother and daughter left the shop. Myra was shaken by the episode, to loose one’s memory was a trauma indeed at such a young age! Looking up the net Myra found out that Bella also had a short life span!
That day while walking back home, Myra looked up that house, house number 12, where Bella lived.
The house was a beautiful one, with decorative stone pots in the entryway, low cut arches, mowed lawns and tasteful outdoor furniture. A Jacaranda tree stood in the middle fanning out elegantly. A house that beautiful, could have such sadness within its walls was incomprehensible to Myra.
Beautiful houses not necessarily guarantee a beautiful life, people living within it is the game-changer! Bella’s condition, her mother’s sadness was so palpable to Myra that now those houses did not seem like breathing, living guarantee of a beautiful life! Thoughts swirling in her head Myra slowly headed home.
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