A Handful of Pixie Dust (Sequel to The Art of Survival), chapter 2
Bethan pounded out of her college and down the steps calling, "See ya around, girls" half-absently over her shoulder to her classmates. She raced to her car, opened the door and climbed in. Shutting the door, she sighed a quick sigh of relief that she was going to be on time picking Nia up today. She placed her art equipment on the back seat and smiled at it.
When Bethan had Nia, she was convinced she would have to give up her dreams of studying art in college and then going on to do a degree in university. For a while, she actually did. She'd taken nearly four years off to look after Nia but, after those four years on stand-by, Bethan realised to look after Nia she'd have to get a proper job not just one helping out at Adeline on the weekend. With that in mind, she enrolled in college and it was something she was yet to regret.
Bethan's mind flicked back onto the present and she found herself driving steadily towards her mum's house. It was a daily chore she hated doing and yet she had to do it twice a day. "For Nia's sake." she murmured to herself. Nia finished school at half past three and Bethan didn't finish college until four o'clock so it was up to her mum to look after Nia until she got there.
Bethan's mother, Mandy couldn't comprehend Bethan's reasons for keeping Nia or for spending so much time with Green Day. Then again, Mandy couldn't comprehend Bethan at all. She couldn't understand why Bethan would want to "waste" so much time "mindlessly" drawing. It wasn't a career. It was a lazy habit. Artists never made anything out of themselves. Why couldn't Bethan study to be an accountant or something?
"Because that's not me." Bethan told the road. She looked down at her hands and saw they were becoming bleaching with the strength she was clasping onto the steering wheel with. "Great," Bethan sighed. "I'm not even there yet and I'm already raving. Good start, Pixie."
As Bethan pulled into her mother's driveway, she paused to take a few deep breaths to steady her rage. All she had to do was go in, get Nia and leave. No long haul conversations. No arguments. Just Nia and home. Simple.
Walking to her mother's front door, Bethan knew it wouldn't be that easy. She rang the doorbell and took a few more pacifying breaths. The door opened to reveal her alter ego.
Mandy stood in the doorway wearing a pink vest and a pair of jeans that fitted her figure perfectly. She moved her bleached hair out of her eyes with a manicured hand and fixed Bethan with her blue eyes. Her rouged lips tightened at her daughter's green checked trousers and black Sex Pistols vest. "Hello, Bethan." she greeted in a starched tone.
"Hey, Mum." Bethan replied, stepping into the house. She looked around at the house she had grown up in, expecting it to seep with memories but they had been erased when her dad died when she was twelve. Now the house was crammed with artefacts of a lonely woman who was trying to seek solace in a prejudiced society. "Is Nia ready?" Bethan asked dragging herself out of her thoughts.
"She's out in the back garden playing." Mandy answered in the same tone as before.
"OK." Bethan said, walking through the house to the kitchen. As she reached it, Nia's excited rolls of laughter drifted to her ears and she paused at the window to watch her baby. Nia was racing around the garden with a vivid gleam in her eyes and an ecstatic glow blazing on her cheeks. Her hair streamed out behind her in the wind and she let it flow as free as her imagination.
"That child should have a father figure in her life." Mandy said, looking over Bethan's shoulder to the garden.
Bethan rolled her eyes. "She has three," she argued. "And her name's Nia."
"You call them father figures?" Mandy scoffed. "They're hardly role models to Nia, are they? I don't know why you spend your time with them. All they do is drink and smoke weed."
Bethan's knuckles turned white as she clutched onto the windowsill in rampant fury. She took a deep breath trying to absorb the cold air to combat her emotions. She released it in one gasp without feeling its benefits. "That's not true." she said, quietly.
"Yes, it is," Mandy insisted. "That's all punks do."
Bethan bit her lip until she tasted a metallic tint on her tongue. As her blood trickled into her mouth, it painted her vision red and she spun around to face her mother. "Where did you hear that? One of your prejudiced friends?"
"They are not prejudiced." Mandy snapped.
"Yes they are! You haven't even met Green Day and yet you're judging them!"
"I wouldn't want to meet them." Mandy told Bethan, turning away from the conversation.
"So what gives you the right to judge them?" Bethan asked, her blood turning to steam in her veins.
"I just know they are a bad influence on my grand daughter."
"Coming from someone who didn't even want me to keep her, this concern's a bit delayed." Bethan spat back coldly.
"What are you trying to say?" Mandy asked, turning back to face Bethan.
Bethan took another deep breath. "I'm saying that you're not perfect yourself."
"What?" Mandy asked.
"You heard," Bethan said, turning away to look at Nia. "You were never perfect yourself. You just pretended you were." Watching Nia playing, Bethan shook her head slowly.
"What do you mean? I was a perfectly good mother to you!" Mandy exclaimed, marching over to Bethan.
Not flinching from her mother's fevered breath on her neck, Bethan simply said, "When you were around."
"I was always around." Mandy replied quickly.
"No you weren't," Bethan argued. "You were always at some tea party, some social gathering. If it wasn't for dad I don't know what would have happened to me."
"That's not true! And anyway, what about you? You're never there for Nia anymore." Mandy told Bethan.
"Yeah but the difference is I'm doing this for Nia. You were doing all that for yourself." After a pause, Bethan turned to her mother and looked in her frozen eyes. "Thanks for minding Nia for me." She walked to the back door and called, "Nia, baby. Come on, we're going home."
When Bethan had Nia, she was convinced she would have to give up her dreams of studying art in college and then going on to do a degree in university. For a while, she actually did. She'd taken nearly four years off to look after Nia but, after those four years on stand-by, Bethan realised to look after Nia she'd have to get a proper job not just one helping out at Adeline on the weekend. With that in mind, she enrolled in college and it was something she was yet to regret.
Bethan's mind flicked back onto the present and she found herself driving steadily towards her mum's house. It was a daily chore she hated doing and yet she had to do it twice a day. "For Nia's sake." she murmured to herself. Nia finished school at half past three and Bethan didn't finish college until four o'clock so it was up to her mum to look after Nia until she got there.
Bethan's mother, Mandy couldn't comprehend Bethan's reasons for keeping Nia or for spending so much time with Green Day. Then again, Mandy couldn't comprehend Bethan at all. She couldn't understand why Bethan would want to "waste" so much time "mindlessly" drawing. It wasn't a career. It was a lazy habit. Artists never made anything out of themselves. Why couldn't Bethan study to be an accountant or something?
"Because that's not me." Bethan told the road. She looked down at her hands and saw they were becoming bleaching with the strength she was clasping onto the steering wheel with. "Great," Bethan sighed. "I'm not even there yet and I'm already raving. Good start, Pixie."
As Bethan pulled into her mother's driveway, she paused to take a few deep breaths to steady her rage. All she had to do was go in, get Nia and leave. No long haul conversations. No arguments. Just Nia and home. Simple.
Walking to her mother's front door, Bethan knew it wouldn't be that easy. She rang the doorbell and took a few more pacifying breaths. The door opened to reveal her alter ego.
Mandy stood in the doorway wearing a pink vest and a pair of jeans that fitted her figure perfectly. She moved her bleached hair out of her eyes with a manicured hand and fixed Bethan with her blue eyes. Her rouged lips tightened at her daughter's green checked trousers and black Sex Pistols vest. "Hello, Bethan." she greeted in a starched tone.
"Hey, Mum." Bethan replied, stepping into the house. She looked around at the house she had grown up in, expecting it to seep with memories but they had been erased when her dad died when she was twelve. Now the house was crammed with artefacts of a lonely woman who was trying to seek solace in a prejudiced society. "Is Nia ready?" Bethan asked dragging herself out of her thoughts.
"She's out in the back garden playing." Mandy answered in the same tone as before.
"OK." Bethan said, walking through the house to the kitchen. As she reached it, Nia's excited rolls of laughter drifted to her ears and she paused at the window to watch her baby. Nia was racing around the garden with a vivid gleam in her eyes and an ecstatic glow blazing on her cheeks. Her hair streamed out behind her in the wind and she let it flow as free as her imagination.
"That child should have a father figure in her life." Mandy said, looking over Bethan's shoulder to the garden.
Bethan rolled her eyes. "She has three," she argued. "And her name's Nia."
"You call them father figures?" Mandy scoffed. "They're hardly role models to Nia, are they? I don't know why you spend your time with them. All they do is drink and smoke weed."
Bethan's knuckles turned white as she clutched onto the windowsill in rampant fury. She took a deep breath trying to absorb the cold air to combat her emotions. She released it in one gasp without feeling its benefits. "That's not true." she said, quietly.
"Yes, it is," Mandy insisted. "That's all punks do."
Bethan bit her lip until she tasted a metallic tint on her tongue. As her blood trickled into her mouth, it painted her vision red and she spun around to face her mother. "Where did you hear that? One of your prejudiced friends?"
"They are not prejudiced." Mandy snapped.
"Yes they are! You haven't even met Green Day and yet you're judging them!"
"I wouldn't want to meet them." Mandy told Bethan, turning away from the conversation.
"So what gives you the right to judge them?" Bethan asked, her blood turning to steam in her veins.
"I just know they are a bad influence on my grand daughter."
"Coming from someone who didn't even want me to keep her, this concern's a bit delayed." Bethan spat back coldly.
"What are you trying to say?" Mandy asked, turning back to face Bethan.
Bethan took another deep breath. "I'm saying that you're not perfect yourself."
"What?" Mandy asked.
"You heard," Bethan said, turning away to look at Nia. "You were never perfect yourself. You just pretended you were." Watching Nia playing, Bethan shook her head slowly.
"What do you mean? I was a perfectly good mother to you!" Mandy exclaimed, marching over to Bethan.
Not flinching from her mother's fevered breath on her neck, Bethan simply said, "When you were around."
"I was always around." Mandy replied quickly.
"No you weren't," Bethan argued. "You were always at some tea party, some social gathering. If it wasn't for dad I don't know what would have happened to me."
"That's not true! And anyway, what about you? You're never there for Nia anymore." Mandy told Bethan.
"Yeah but the difference is I'm doing this for Nia. You were doing all that for yourself." After a pause, Bethan turned to her mother and looked in her frozen eyes. "Thanks for minding Nia for me." She walked to the back door and called, "Nia, baby. Come on, we're going home."
