It was as if the entire lifespan of the small steel key had been in search of this single solitary lock. The grooves glide through the pins without friction, and settled in place like lovers' interlaced fingers. The dead bolt popped with an exclamation, and Magema's heart launched with it. A creak announced the open door, and an excited hush from the house cascaded out. She hadn't noticed that the first time they'd inspected the property. The sound made her think of all the squeals to come. In an instant her mind shot to her to-do list, but before she scratched ‘lubricating the hinges,’ Magema thought better of it. That she might grow to like the security, and eventual familiarity of the imposing noise over the course of the family's next chapter in their new home.
Magema left her boots at the door. The pressure of the hardwood through her thick wool socks was comfortable and exhilarating. With a few running steps she slid past the sitting room, and looked over the bare fireplace, and empty floors. Her eyes averted away from the off putting shade of pinkish purple painted over the walls by the previous owners. The obtruding colour was enough to overwhelm her into a state of paralysis without giving her a chance to settle in, or take stock of the other changes that needed to take place.
Thoughts began to swirl, and before she let herself get pulled under into a whirlpool of angst, she twirled herself out of the room. Spinning like a ballerina she arrived at the foot of their staircase and looked upwards towards the windows tucked at the top of the vaulted ceiling. Her legs wrapped around each other and Magema corkscrewed herself downwards until she sat cross-legged in front of the first step. With her gaze locked on the pouring diaphanous light from above, she stretched backwards into its spotlight, and watched tiny dust particles pirouette through the ethereal beams and land all around her.
Blanketing the floor Magma's hair spread like a halo. Rather than continue her exploratory expedition she lay still, and took in the light. Her hands rested on her peculiar protruding stomach. As her thoughts quieted, Magema felt the tiny heartbeat within match her own.
She felt it.
She felt the space. She felt the gravity.
Able wasn't long behind, and would arrive in the next half hour. While Magema knew he might be a little jilted that she'd come in first without him, she'd needed a bit of time alone for herself. Her hand washed over her bulging bump and a wave of sweet realizations showered over her. Knowing Able and her wouldn't be starting their child's life crammed together in that compact apartment was relieving. That, despite the age of the home, they were building something together. Something new.
From the kitchen she heard the sounds of children to come. She could hear play and laughter from her future family echoing throughout the home. Kids jeering and teasing, Rosetta barking, Able groaning. Their kitchen table full, plates passed, cutlery clinking, cupboards banging. The sonics of scraped knees from outdoors, and the low end bass notes of children's bottom's bumping down the steps of the staircase like a slide, or some other sort of imagined amusement park ride. She heard the brushstrokes of a straw broom as Able swept the hardwood floors that she lounged on now.
Reluctant, she left the fantastic soundscapes, and lifted to her elbows. One hand reached for her pen and pocketbook while the other set her phone down. The songs of Sam Cooke filled the space, amplified by the emptied house's acoustics, and reverberating off the floors.
Magema's mind went to the move and all the work left to do. The purchases, painting, budgeting, and renos. Slow, she rose, and strode to the kitchen where her and Able would be preparing small feasts for their tiny family for years to come as they tried to pull themselves out from beneath the crushing new weight of their mortgage. She saw the tiles that she didn't quite love but would have to tolerate for however many decades. She wondered how long it would be before they could afford an upgrade for the stove, and change their other aging appliances.
Nerves struck and Magema bit her lower lip. She knew there would be aid from their parents, housewarming gifts from friends, helpful hands with their move, gardening, and renovations. For that, her gratitude knew no limits. Though it didn't ease the pit of stress in her stomach.
Seeking to ground herself Magema leaned her forehead upon the cool glass and spied into their new yard. She thought of the veranda an excited Able had promised to build. Late night tea under fairy lights as their children played into the evening. How the garden shed may one day grow to a little studio, a sanctuary. She could hear the sounds of a lawn mower pushed in warm Sunday sunlight and imagined the perfumes of fresh cut grass. Watched the arrival of Spring, a ballet of snowflakes, thunder, sunsets, and rain.
The tattered brass doorknob was smooth and warm in her palm as she cracked the back door open and shut. No creak twined the front entrance. With a satisfied smile Magema wondered how often she would hear that gentle thud. She pulsated the door back and forth practicing letting their sweet Rosie in and out for her bathroom breaks. While the house was small the yard stretched long with ample room for kids to play. Kickball, tag, squeaking trampoline springs, mud pies, potions, chasing dragons and fairies. She saw gardens of vegetables, and afternoons planting seeds. She watched time flash forward with holidays and birthdays, campouts under full moons.
A large maple arced across the yard, its shade gracing the grass. She could see the shape of an elaborate treehouse with a tire swing she'd love to build. The smell of cut wood whispered from the past, waltzing over the remembered rhythm of striking hammers beside her father when she was growing up, when she was his helping hands.
The reflections dissipated with a resounding sigh. Magema listened for bird songs that weren't there, and traced her fingers across walls that were now hers, as she walked onwards.
Small steps took her travelling through the ground floor a second time. She looked at the walls while gorgeous colours flashed over them from her mind's eye. She evaluated what was the best in the daylight, what each shade may mean to her and the children. How each mood might affect them. Soft yellows, round pasteled oranges, calming aquamarines, pale roses, gentle eggshells, beige sandalwoods.
Furniture flipped around in her imagination like acrobats. Their mismatched pieces pinwheeled through the living room. Her favourite love seat, his battered, though comfortable couch. The old coffee table in their apartment that Able had lugged around since his high school days. The result of a project he'd aced in woodshop class. She moved them mentally from one side of the room to the other with such velocity sweat threatened to permeate through her brow.
The bare walls called to her. They longed for art to come. A loving hand returned above her womb and the young mother bowed her head. Perhaps they would decorate with works the family made themselves, crafts, canvas. Flowers potted in wonky ceramics made in elementary school art classes. Visions of framed crayon drawings of stickmen, stick elephants, and dogs gave her a soft chuckle. Thoughts moved back to the furniture, of their bookshelf, and how exciting it would be to see their combined library sitting prominent and proud in the new space under fresh light.
Lost in her flow Gema moved past the door leading to their tiny basement. It was easy to ignore the small laundry room Able would undoubtedly take over with his noisy knickknacks. Returning instead to the prominent staircase Magema paused at its foot, slipped off her wool socks, hung them from the rail, and flexed her feet on the gentle grains of the landing.
Each step up raised her heartbeat. It was all so incomparable to renting, and they hadn’t even moved in yet. The sound of each footfall was as unprecedented as the scratches of their pens across the sales contract from their realtor. Those strokes so similar and yet, tangibly different from when her and Able signed their marriage certificate only a year prior. Everything unprecedented, it was a whole new chapter.
Her hand slid across the oak banister as she made the turn halfway up the stairway. The sloped wall stirred wonder again, would it be family photos or paintings that guided her upwards to bed each night?
There was one bathroom on the main floor, one to share upstairs. They’d have no en suite to protect them from their busy children. From the door she sat looking at the lonely faucet. No toothbrushes, hand towels, or soap bar to keep it company yet. The thought of the family living here with teenagers made Gema groan. Taxing thoughts of fighting over the mirror, the shower, or how little time she'd have to prepare for her clients before her work days polluted her adventure.
Magema moved from the stressful vision to the street facing bedroom, and looked down into the driveway. She walked past the other spare room to the suite at the end of the hall. They'd need more dressers and armoires. Their closet space barely enough as it was in their cramped apartment, and things hadn't gotten better in their new home.
The house was comfortable, cozy. A bunch of bedrooms, but not big ones. Any sized family would be a squeeze. Her mind went to old fairy tales, and rhymes of magick homes where uncountable amounts of people lived on top of one another in a tiny space, and she smiled. It would be ok. With love in their walls their family would flourish. Where they compromised on size they'd seized in location. The fireplace, the forest, the quiet of the neighbourhood. Not as close to downtown as Able would like, but an oasis like this was worthy of any commute.
As she entered her and Able's room she envisioned their bed tucked against the wall, balanced by nightstands, and laid back on the floor in its place. She rolled to her left side as the soothing ambience of the room washed over her. Able would spend his nights on her right, arm around her, guarding between his Gema and the door as he always did. Magema cooed as her eyes moved up to the window and she imagined the stars and moonrises to come. How the light would fade in and wake her before their alarm in early Summer mornings.
Magema's eyelashes fluttered, and from behind her eyelids she watched her and Able build their life together. When his absence became apparent she looked to her phone. Impatient for his arrival she reached her arm out behind her, searching for his hand. The now familiar creak squealed an answer, and her heart leapt a second time. She struggled upright and called to her person, yelling for him to come find her, before he could even ask where she'd wandered off to. Their eyes met as he stepped through the threshold onto the same page, and their next chapter began.
Thanks for reading! Be sure to dig deeper into the lives of the The Haés
-Mr. Write