The things we hide from ourselves

(An excerpt from a story soon to be published)

I sifted through the jewels that I had with me – earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings, and pendants, and remembered the moments when my mother handed them to me. I particularly remember her giving me an antique cross of St. Benedict as a gift when I was thirty-five. I remember because she pulled me closer to her and whispered: “All that you need to say is, ‘Get thee behind me, Satan.’” That was the very first time I heard her utter the name “Satan” in all the years I have known her.


Then memories stopped because the pain had begun to grow on my back and run down to my hips. My belly had also begun to hurt, and the hunger began. I felt cold sweat on my forehead and my hands felt clammy and my feet felt moist, even when they were placed on the area rug where my chair stood. My head had now started to hurt. At first it felt like a drill was going through my right eye, and then the right part of my head started to hurt. It hurt so much that it felt like it was actually shrinking, and then I could not see clearly out of my right eye.

I staggered up and noticed that my nightgown was damp with sweat and I took it off and wiped myself with a towel. My breathing had become shallow because of the deepening and spreading pain. I gripped the edge of the dresser and gritted my teeth. I managed to get to the bathroom sink and uncap a bottle of mineral water and take great gulps from it, and from where I stood, clutching my stomach, I suddenly noticed something – the corner of a dark-colored, very ornate tapestry behind the door, under an hollow alcove, hidden behind a chest of drawers topped by a rather tall potted plant. I found it odd.

I put the plant on the floor and moved the chest aside. It was quite hard to do because of the pain in my back, hips, and stomach, but slowly, the tapestry emerged. The tapestry was so rich with color and marvelous patterns, and yet it was hidden from view in such a way that people would miss it, even with the alcove light on. Well, my husband and I were the only ones using the bathroom, so why would I cover that tapestry? It was too beautiful to hide. And then something dawned on me.

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