She woke up tired and thirsty. But then, she always did. The bright morning sun shone through the curtains, bathing her room in shades of gold. Lucy always loved the morning. It gave her a feeling of excitement and anticipation for the day stretching out before her. She got up sleepily, rubbed her eyes and headed to the kitchen, where the warm smell of frying bacon and coffee wafted towards her. But the sweet aroma was all she could enjoy. She was not allowed to eat all the delicious things most children of her age could eat.
Many a time, she had thrown tantrums over the food that was denied to her. On such occasions, she would run up to her father, who would take her into his lap and soothe her. He would sing her favorite song for her- a curious little piece called 'Song Of The Return'. But there always was a sad look in his eyes that she could not comprehend and which she hated to see. She was not a stranger to this expression. She had seen it in her mother’s face and the faces of her teachers when they looked at her. And she never liked it.
Lucy drank the spare amount of coffee that her mother had set out for her and the bits of toast which was so few that it made her crave for more. It was always water that she was forced to drink. While all children brought a bottle of water to school, she had to bring three of them to keep herself from dehydrating. But she was too young to understand and most of her questions remained unanswered.
As she sat on the small stool by the dining table, she watched her mother packing her things for her. In the past few months, her parents were being unusually kind to her. ‘Spoiling’ was the word. She was old enough to know it, and she wondered what she had done to merit it.
Last night, her mother had read to her stories about angels and fairies that would come and take away the good and innocent to the land of the Lord. Lucy was fascinated by these stories and would beg for more at the end of each one.
“Of course, you’re not really going away.” her mother used to say, more to herself than to Lucy. “It’s just a return to your true home”.
She used to tell her that one day, she would also be fetched by the fairies and that she could play in the vast gardens of the Heavens and eat with kings in magnificent palaces. Lucy would then dream about fairies and boast about them to her mother. Every night, when she put her to sleep, she would say “Good night, Lucy. Say hello to the fairies for me”.
She kissed her father goodbye and walked beside her mother to their car which was her mode of transport to school and back. Just as they neared the car, Lucy involuntarily ducked and peered under the car. A year ago, when she was six years old, she had found a baby rabbit under their car, squealing feebly. If she had not seen it, it would have died a horrible death under the wheel. Ever since, Lucy had developed the habit of looking under cars, just in case there was a baby rabbit under it.
Right then, she discovered no rabbit but only saw countless pipes and tubes covering the underside of the car. It reminded her of the hospital – the unnaturally clean rooms, the white beds and of course, the tubes and pipes and good lord- the syringe! Lucy was deathly afraid of injections, as were most children of her age. She could never really forget the experience.
You see, Lucy had been in the hospital more times than all the children in her class put together. She could not remember when all of it began. Every other week, she would feel a dreadful pain inside her stomach and she would black out. Hours later, she would wake up in a room in the hospital- a 'ward' it was called. She did not know what that meant and nobody bothered to explain.
The doctor was the only reason that made Lucy’s existence in the hospital possible. He always smelled of cardamom and cloves, just like her father and just like her father, he would console her at the most painful of moments. And he never had the sad look in his face. Maybe it had something to do with being a doctor or maybe it was just because he hid it well. Lucy’s young mind could never dwell on things like that. So she just let it wander.
She stared through the car’s windows as her mother drove it through the busy streets. Lucy loved to feel the cold (although dusty) wind on her face and she was often dragged back onto the seat and reprimanded for it. Now, her mother just pulled her gently back and set her face hard at the road. She looked as if she was about to scold her, but just choked, as if hiding a sob, and continued her stare into the stretch of road ahead. It drove Lucy mad when this happened. She was glad that her mother had not shouted at her. But the silence was more painful. What had she done to deserve such treatment?
By the time she reached school, she was fuming. She kissed her mother on the cheek, although with an awful glare on her face and hurried to her classroom. Her mother waited until she reached the classroom, waved a final goodbye, reversed and drove away.
For Lucy, a day that began badly, always progressed and ended badly. Her bad mood affected her performance and led her into a whole lot more of trouble that she would have had on a normal day.
That day, during music class (by far Lucy’s favorite), they were taught the lyrics of ‘Song of the Return’. Lucy, of course, knew it off by heart and the class soothed her nerves and anger. The sweet melody calmed her and she made the most of it. With each word she sung, she felt a little better. Certain tunes bring back memories of the past more than others. This was exactly the case for Lucy. The song reminded her of all the things she loved or had loved. Her parents, going to church on Sunday mornings, the baby rabbit, the doctor…
But after the music class, things started to go downhill. She got into a fight with a boy for the mere reason that he had accidentally brushed his hand against hers. Lucy was an unusually withdrawn person, even for a seven year old. Two minutes later, she was being lectured by her teacher, although in a strange and gentle voice. Lucy looked up at her teacher and saw what she expected to see. An expression of sympathy and what was it? Was it grief, or anxiety? Lucy was sick and tired of it. The teacher was looking at her as if - as if...
It was at this point that she felt the terrible pain again. She groaned and fell to the floor in a dead faint. This time, before she woke up, Lucy experienced a vast array of sensations and emotions. Her feelings of guilt for being angry with her mother intermingled with the frustration of being treated like a baby and left her feeling strangely blank. A number of voices and shapes threw themselves at her. She remembered her father’s sweet voice, the smell of him and the ways he took her in his lap and sang to her. Her eyes were closed, but through the darkness, she saw a billion vibrant spots of colors. Circles of red, violet and blue were super-imposed on each other and she could see vague faces and dreams.
The physical pain suddenly lessened and a feeling of numbness came over her. All the colors and dreams disappeared and she slowly came to. She opened her eyes. Though her vision was foggy, she recognized the hospital room. There was the familiar smell of the pillows, or was it the doctor, for there was a smiling face above her. Lucy instantly recognized the neat white rows of teeth and the round glasses. She tried to get up but the doctor gently put her back.
“Easy there, now. Don’t get up. You’re tired” he said.
Lucy felt about herself and found that she was once again attached to a lot of tubes and bottles, but the number seemed larger now. Her vision cleared and the doctor’s smile seemed more strained now.
“Your parents are on their way” he said, “Don’t worry.”
Lucy was not worried. She was content in the doctor’s company, although she wished her mother and father would hurry. She had wanted to see them the moment she had lost consciousness. She did not notice the humming of the machine beside her grow louder, but the doctor did. His smile vanished completely and within minutes, there were a score of people swarming around the room hurriedly. She lost sight of the doctor. All these months, and she had not asked his name. No matter, she would when she woke up. What was the hurry, she wondered. She was not going anywhere, was she?
Lucy hated it when her mother made a fuss over her. And she hated it even more when the nurses did it. The pain in her tummy returned with full strength, but instead of feeling anything, her vision started fading. The darkness thickened, as if someone had just dimmed the lights in the room. She felt as if she was falling away from the bed, as if she was leaving everything behind. As if someone was fetching her away.
Then, in the semi-darkness, she saw the foggy outline of a strange figure gliding smoothly towards her. As it approached, she knew they had come. The fairies had come, just like in the stories to take her away. From nowhere, or everywhere, she thought she could hear a faint melody. It grew louder, reverberating all around her and she remembered her mother’s words:
“Of course, you’re not really going away. It’s just a return to your true home.”