"Naomi." Mary called, her eyes were bloodshot and Naomi wondered whether she had spent the night crying.
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"Yes Mommy" Naomi whispered, anxiety clogging up her throat. She was nervous as to what her mother was about to say to her.
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"In Helslip there are unwritten rules that everyone needs to adhere by. Standards, that everyone needs to meet. Do you understand?"
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Naomi nodded gently, her eyes resting on the floor, too afraid to meet the gaze of her mother "Yes I do"she whispered in response
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"You are twenty-three years old Naomi. I had gotten married at the age of seventeen. In Helslip woman are meant to leave their parents' home and are meant to be in there matrimonial homes before the age of eighteen. And here you are, in my house, eating my food, drinking my water, breathing in the same air as your father and I at the age of twenty-three."
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"Mommy I-"
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"Shut your mouth I am speaking!" Her mother exclaimed
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"I'm sorry" she whispered, she raised her hands to her face, wiping away a lone tear. Naomi heard Mary sniff and she raised her head. Shocked to see tears in her mother's eyes "Mommy why...? Why are you crying?"
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Naomi reached over to wipe away the tears from her mother's eyes. Mary moved away from Naomi.
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Naomi flinched and slowly returned to her seat allowing the pain of rejection to slowly ease away.
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"Each and everyday I go through humiliation, just because I have no son to call my own. I am mocked and jabbed by my fellow woman. Naomi you don't know how painful it is" Naomi's mother sniffed, she roughly wiped away the tear from her eyes "You don't know how painful it is, to be the joke of the town. I am seen as worthless, as a waste of space. Please Naomi" Mary stood up from her stool and walked to Naomi, slowly she sat next to her and took Naomi's hands in hers. "Naomi, I had tried to remain silent. As the years went on I had tried my best to keep my mouth shut." Her mother sobbed, as she shook her head, her years landed on their enclosed hands, Naomi's hands ached to wipe away her tears but restrained herself "Your father had said to give you more time. But how much more time Naomi?! How much more time can I give you. People are starting to talk Naomi. People are starting to question and mock me. Please I beg of you" Mary held on tighter to Naomi's hands "Remove this shame from my face. Bring back a smile to my face. The reputation of our family rests in your hands Naomi. Please my dear remove this shame from me"
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"Mommy. I will do anything. Anything to make you happy. Anything to bring a smile to your face. Just tell me what it is that I need to do"
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Mary smiled, her face wet with her tears "Naomi you need to get married. You have to"
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Naomi's breath hitched "Wh-What do you mean? I-I can't get married."
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"Naomi, listen to me. My dear don't worry. A man had come, he's a well known man. Very wealthy and respectable. He had come to seek for your hand in marriage"
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"Mommy. Who is this man? Do I know him"
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Mary smiled through her tears, "You might have heard about him. He is Mr Reagan."
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Naomi shook her head, she gulped "I've never heard of him. I don't think we're talking about the same person. No" she shook her head "No. I refuse to believe it"
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"You know him Naomi. You do. Mr Kyle Reagan"
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Naomi's mouth widened, her eyes darted across her mother's face, for any sign of humour "You're joking. You're lying" Naomi snickered, a humourless sound filled with anger and malice "You're lying"
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Mary's smile remained on her face, but her tears did not stop pouring. She placed her palm on Naomi's cheek "My dear. I'm not lying at all. Don't worry he is a good man. He will take great care of you."
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"How can you say this to me? That man is old enough to be my grandfather! He has four wives already. You want your daughter to be someone's fifth wife." Naomi's mouth remained open in shock "How?!" She exclaimed, tears blurring her vision. She stood up in a pit of rage. And gazed down at her mother "You want me to be his fifth wife, how can you wish that upon me. You are supposed to be my mother! You are supposed to wish for my happiness"
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"I am doing this for your own good Naomi. You are twenty three years old. Where have you seen a twenty three year old woman staying in her parents home. Naomi! Sasha, is only twenty one years of age and she had gotten through so much humiliation and mockery because she had not gotten married. What more do you think they say about you"
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"Don't lie to me! Don't even try to manipulate me! The town's people love me. They have never gossiped about me behind my back"
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Mary stood up, her hand rested on the couch arm for support "Naomi. I am your mother. I am older than you, what I can see sitting on a bench, you can never see even if you climbed the highest mountain. People have faces, people have colours. I've been on this earth much longer than you have. I know you don't see it, but I do. These people criticise the ground you walk on Naomi. They despise you. They despise me. They despise your father. They despise this family. Naomi we are hated. We have nothing, you can see it for yourself. Our fridge is empty. Our cupboards are empty. Who had you seen come to knock on our door to offer help. Who had you seen come to offer us a bag of groceries. Just a little bag of sugar or a little bag of salt. Or even a handful of rice. Nobody. Nobody at all. Naomi in this whole town we are own our owns. We need to fend for ourselves."
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"Mama Theresa tries to help. But you always chase her away"
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Mary chuckled softly and shook her head "Naomi. Theresa has problems of her own. She is a shadow of herself. Her husband has turned her into a punching bag because of her inability to have children. He defiles their matrimonial bed every single day. Is that the person you want seek help from, someone who can't even help herself"
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Naomi sighed "I hardly know this man in question. I've never never met him. He has four wives for heaven's sake! I want to get married for love mammy! Not because of some stupid standards of society"
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"Love? What do you know about love? Tell me! What in a bloody plums name do you know of love, you ungrateful wench. Love will not put food on your plate. Love will not put shelter over your head. Love will not cloth you. Do you understand me!"
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"I don't want to get married to him. I won't get married to him. I am not going to marry someone old enough to be called my grandfather."
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The door snapped open and Naomi's face dropped. Ice cold fear crawled up her spine as her eyes landed on the man at the door. She gulped as the tension in the air thickened.
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"What's all the commotion about." Naomi's father's eyes landed on Mary, his gaze unwavering.
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Mary lowered her head "I was just speaking to her."
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"Well that's over now. He is downstairs waiting for her" Joseph's eyes moved from his wives face to Naomi. She flinched under his intense gaze "I want the both of you down there in the next two minutes. Mary clean her up."
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"Daddy" Naomi called. Mary's eyes widened.
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"Naomi shut up" Mary warned
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Naomi ignored her mother's warnings and persisted. "I don't want to get married to Mr Reagan. Please. Don't let them do this to me."
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Joseph's brow rose "Excuse me?" He muttered, his voice rough and strained. He took a step towards Naomi "What did you say?!"
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Mary took a step inbetween them "Joseph I'll handle her. Just go downstairs and speak to Mr Reagan. Please"
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"Dad please. I'm begging you. Mr Reagan is old enough to be your father. How can you allow your daughter get married to your father. That's ridiculous"
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"Pardon me" Joseph whispered
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"Joseph don't listen to her. Go downstairs"
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"Move away from me woman!" Joseph exclaimed pushing Mary out of his way. Mary stumbled to the ground.
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"Dad I beg of you, don't let this happen-"
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"Shut your mouth! Shut that hole in your face!" Joseph exclaimed his gaze unwavering "I've tried my best to be kind and understanding towards you but you've crossed the line young lady. I'm done with your tantrums. You have no say in this. You are getting married and that is that!"
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Naomi took a step forward interceding for herself "But-"
Joseph's eyes transformed into the deep hue of blood, a chilling reflection of the anger consuming him. The veins on his temples pulsed like serpentine rivers, a macabre dance etched across his strained flesh. A single step forward closed the ominous distance between him and Naomi.
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His fingers, like vengeful claws, closed around her delicate throat, ruthlessly snatching away the air from her lungs. "I'm sick and tired of you, you ungrateful little--"
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The rest of his venomous words faded into an indistinct echo as Naomi teetered on the brink of consciousness. She felt herself floating in a relentless arena of darkness, the bones in her throat succumbing to the cruel pressure, shattering beneath his relentless grip.
Powerless and drained, her arms lay limp at her sides, a feeble surrender to the brutality unfolding. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, landing on her mother sprawled on the ground. Panic etched across her mother's eyes.
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The door creaked open, a sliver of salvation slicing through the stifling tension. A figure entered, their voice a thunderous command, "Stop!" It echoed, a desperate plea wrapped in urgent authority.
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Joseph, momentarily unshackled from his rage, released his vice-like grip on Naomi's throat.
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Gasping for air, she crumpled to the ground, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and relief. The room, once a battlefield, now held the aftermath of the struggle in suspended silence.
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Mary got up from the ground and rushed to Naomi's side "Are you... Are you ok?"
Naomi's wide eyes mirrored the shock and disbelief of surviving a brush with darkness, she was oblivious to her mothers presence beside her. Her trembling hands clutched at her throat, as if trying to reclaim the stolen breath. The air hung heavy with the weight of emotions—fear, gratitude, and a lingering uncertainty.
Slowly, she raised her head to set eyes on her savior, and there in the threshold stood an elderly man. A stick rested in his grip, his head filled with strands of gray hair. His face was wrinkly and tired. Their gazes met, and she immediately regretted it. She shut her eyes tightly, wishing that when she opened them, she would be somewhere else or that this would just end up being a bad dream.
"Mr. Kyle Reagan, I apologize that you've met us this way. You've caught me in the middle of trying to discipline my daughter," Joseph chuckled, but the tension in the room did not allow anyone else to share in his humor.
"You do know that I can arrest you for laying your hands on my soon-to-be bride?"
"I know that, sir. I apologize."
Mr. Reagan's disdainful gaze left Joseph and landed on Naomi. Slowly, he walked up to her, his stick clicking on the ground with every step. His strides were uneven as if a stifling pain rested in his bones.
Mary aided Naomi in standing up. Mr. Reagan reached out for Naomi, but she remained firm in her spot. Her mother jabbed Naomi's hand and placed it in Mr. Reagan's palms.Helpless, Naomi allowed her hand to rest in his.
Mr. Reagan's fingers caressed her skin. His hands were bony, warm, but they disgusted her. She fought the urge to crawl away; bile rose in her chest, but she shut her eyes and steadied her breath.
"She's perfect," he whispered, his eyes resting on Naomi's. She removed her gaze from him. "A shy one?" He snickered. "No problem at all." Mr. Reagan turned to Joseph. "I will come in two days' time to collect her. I want her prepared, and I hope you will not lay your hands on her because I will not hesitate to throw you into jail."
"Yes, sir. She belongs to you. I wouldn't dare lay a hand on her," Joseph said. Mr. Reagan nodded sharply.
"Good," he turned to Naomi, his pale wrinkled lips curved into a smile. "I can't wait for you to be my bride," he murmured. Slowly, he raised her hands to his lips and placed a kiss on them.
Naomi shrieked away, snatching her hands from him. "Stay away from me!" Naomi warned.
"Naomi!" Joseph exclaimed, taking a dangerous step towards her.
Mr. Reagan raised a hand, and Joseph halted in his tracks. "Do not. When she becomes mine, I will discipline her in my own way," his eyes seemed to hold a threat, and Naomi's heart raced at the possibility of what he could do to her.
Mr. Reagan turned to Joseph, dug his hands into his pockets, and when they came out, a bundle of cash was in his grip. Mary gasped at the amount of money he had taken out. Mr. Reagan placed the bundle of cash in Joseph's palms. Joseph's jaw dropped to the ground, and his eyes widened. "This is nothing. Expect more from me in the near future."
"Thank you so much, sir. We really appreciate it," Mary said.
Mr. Reagan nodded, and after sparing Naomi with one more gaze, he walked out of the room. Her parents followed behind him. Mary shut the door behind them, not even sparing Naomi a glance.
The sound of an engine rumbled beneath them, and a car drove off. She heard the front door open and shut, and the joyous screams of her parents downstairs filled the room, echoing against the walls. Naomi crumpled to the ground; a tear crawled slowly down her face.
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Her fate was no longer in her hands.
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