I was born in an instant. I was born in a hot flash. I was born because my papa was lonely. Somewhere from the light or the dark, I don't know which, I came alive.
My eyes snapped open just as my papa was slicing at a hunk of wood, talking to himself about what a beautiful "marnet" it was going to become for "the bambenose". I don't know what a "marnet" is, but from the way he smiled, it must have been something good.
He stood there slicing, slicing, with little bits of the wood flying everywhere around him. I just sat, watching him, smiling. Above his head were little hanging people. They didn't talk like my papa did and I wondered if maybe I could play with them. I tried to walk off of the table I was sitting on top of, but I couldn't control my body and I landed below, making a loud noise and causing my papa to stop his slicing.
He turned his head around and yelled out, asking who was there, but I couldn't answer him and say "It's me, papa" because I had landed face first. When I didn't say anything, he went back to his slicing and I tried to get up. It wasn't easy because my body felt so stiff but I managed to push myself to my feet which, looking down, were small wobbly brown things--not like my papa's which were big and white. I hoped that after my papa saw me, he would get me better feet.
I tottered over, saying "Papa, here I am! Here I am, Papa!" and hugged his legs, looking up at him, knowing he would laugh out loud and scoop me up.
But something else happened. The tool he had been using to slice, dropped from his hands and he stared at me, his mouth open and his eyes popping out. I was waiting for him to pick me up, but instead, he started screaming and clutching his chest. He kept shouting, "il lavoro del diavolo! il lavoro del diavolo!" over and over again before he fell down, with his eyes staring up and his mouth open.
I didn't know what to do. Had I said something bad?
I walked over to him, a little bit better than before (my body was getting easier to move), and tapped him.
"Papa? Papa? Wake up. I'm sorry that I made you mad" I said.
I stood there, tapping and poking him for a while until it had turned black outside, but he still wouldn't move.
When I had been brought was just a moment ago. But then I started wondering about the who and the where. What kind of reason was there to come alive for papa if he wasn't going to be there to BE my papa? I knew I had no answers for these questions and maybe my head would've been too dense to understand the answers if I'd been given them. So I sat there for hours, curling up my stiff knees the best I could, staring up at the ceiling at the little dangling feet of the hanging people. Smiles were frozen on their faces. I really wished one of them would've talked to me, letting me know when everything would be better again, when papa would wake up. I was there until the morning, waiting for one of them to speak to me, hoping they would be my friends, but it was just me, silent papa, and the blackness that took over the small dusty room.
I stopped trying to move him after a few hours went by. Papa had gone to another place. Maybe it was the place I had come from or the one I was going to end up, I didn't know. But I knew that I needed help.
I felt a sadness in me because all of this happened because I accidentally did something terrible to my papa. I hadn't meant it. I loved him, but maybe he didn't feel the same way about me and that's why he had gone from this place of wood and dust and strange hanging people who just smiled and grinned at me without answering my questions.
I put my hand that I knew somehow was his handiwork, on his pale face, but I didn't feel anything, no sensation on my fingers.
"Goodbye Papa" I said, 'I'm going to meet others like you. I hope they won't all fall down and leave me. I need a place to belong, I hope you understand. Sleep well."
The door of the little room was cracked open and I squeezed through. It was very different on the outside and looking up into the blackness I saw a shiny white circle that one day many days later, I overheard someone call the moon. Down at my feet were little yellow flowers standing straight up. My sadness went away and I started giggling, grabbing a few. It was all so pretty and I was so amazed by everything that I didn't even hear the furry creature come up behind me until I heard its panting. I turned around and looked into its shaggy face with a pink tongue hanging out of it. Thinking at the time that this was maybe one of the "bambenose" I heard my papa talk about, I reached out to touch it, but suddenly its sharp teeth sank into my arm, taking a chunk out of it. I looked in confusion at my arm and at its furry face. "Why did you do that?" I asked. It didn't answer, though--just spat it out and ran off. I started feeling sad again. It didn't like me like my papa didn't like me.
I went on, walking, looking for a place where I could meet more people who I could ask questions about the beauty and the wonder of all that was around me and why I had come alive, but everything was dark and there wasn't anybody around.
I sighed and decided to wait for the next day. I sat down in a large, green corner and patiently waited for the people to come out. The next day, another big round thing came up in the sky, which unlike the moon, was orange and I later heard, was called the sun. I peeked out from behind and saw lots of people moving around--big ones like my papa and ones with long hair holding the hands of even smaller people. The even smaller people I really couldn't stop staring at. They were kind of like me, but their bodies were white and softer than mine. Were they the bambenose? I saw that they were being picked up, like I had wanted from my papa, hugged and given brightly colored things to eat. The big people and long-haired people holding their hands didn't scream at them, but talked to them real nice, and gave them kisses on their faces. I started thinking about my papa again and wondered if I should go back and promise to be extra good to make up for the terrible thing I had done that had caused him to fall down and go away. Maybe, just maybe, he would wake up!
I was about to turn back when I saw a person with long black hair up ahead, sitting down on the grass. The long-haired person had a small, really TINY person that sucked at its chest. I watched, amazed, and got closer and closer, until I was standing right in front of them. The long-haired person was looking down at the tiny person, touching its head and smiling. I stood there, not saying anything, for a little while longer, until I couldn't stop myself from asking "Why are you doing that?" The long-haired person lifted its head, still smiling, but when seeing me, shouted, their eyes wide and popped, then began screaming things at me that didn't sound too nice until other people, both big and smaller ones, came running towards us.
"Hello. I was just born last night. Can you tell me where I am and maybe where I can get new feet?" I asked.
They didn't answer me, but like my papa, started screaming, "il lavoro del diavolo!" at me and the big ones, with their red faces curled up, began kicking at and stomping on me.
I was very frightened because bits of me were chipping and flying off of my body and they would not stop.
One of the big people dropped me and before I could get stomped again, I ran as quickly as my wobbly feet could go and I kept running until I couldn't hear the people screaming at me anymore. I found another spot in another green place far away from all of them and I curled up, looking at all the damage done to me. They had taken a lot off of my body and there were holes and little chunks missing. I still didn't feel anything on the outside, but there was a strong feeling moving up inside, where nobody could see or know about me. I felt like the only one of its kind in all of the land around me, and it didn't feel good. I felt alone. It only became worse when I looked down and saw that one of my legs was dangling, about to break off. I snapped the whole piece off and threw it aside and tilted my head back, looking up at that "moon", which had appeared again. I can't sleep like my papa so I just looked up until the sun came back, big, bright and reliable. I began to consider the moon and the sun as friends of a kind. They gave me warmth and cool and were beautiful to see. And best of all, they didn't yell at me or break my body. Of course, they didn't say anything at all but they were still comforting.
I wished that I could have understood what I was doing that was bad and made the people shout and get red. If only I had known what bad thing I was doing, what the purpose of coming alive was all about, my papa wouldn't have gotten mad at me and fell down, and he could have picked me up, smiling and happy like I had wanted him to be.
Ever since my birth day, I stay away from all of the people because they scare me. I get around okay with one leg and hop from one place to another, sometimes still peeking out of my corners at all of them, hearing them talk, laugh, and picking up new words. They all look so happy. Like I want to look. I miss my papa and it's been a long time since I've seen him, but I finally understand that he's gone forever and there is no going back.
The thought has occurred to me that I might not ever get new feet.
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