A for April fools or “Aujourd’hui”: the second and last part
April 1st, 2020 :
“This isn’t a prank, is it”
“No, It’s not”
Ons, my younger sister, was looking me deadly serious in the eye after she had told me that she suspects mom to be pregnant. I couldn’t decide which reaction I should go for. I was happy, of course, but a sense of dread lingered in the back of my head that didn’t stop growing up.
The last kid she bore into this world was my youngest brother, it was her fourth C section, and it was a very painful one. She couldn’t stand properly on her legs for 2 weeks.
Throughout her last pregnancy, we have been worried and scared of what the outcome of that surgery may be. We’ve been very anxious since each repeat C-section is generally more complicated and carries more risk than the last.
That is why, when we couldn’t joke about having a fifth sibling. That wish may take my mother’s life.
“She was supposed to have her period, like, 2 weeks ago, and I’ve seen an unused pregnancy test laying around in her cabinet. And you know your mom, she doesn’t get a pregnancy test if she isn’t 100% sure”
“Didn’t she opted for contraception measures before ?”
“She did, actually. She obstructed her canals but you know.. God’s will”
She tried to resist laughter. I thought she was so nervous that she can’t help it but laugh. She told me that she already told that overreactive sister of ours, to which I frowned saying that she would mess things up and that she should’ve told me first. She insisted that I try to get my mom to talk.
Nervousness got the most out of me. I couldn’t ask my mother — who by the way looked very tired at that time — if she was pregnant. I wanted to opt for a simple expression of worry as my sister suggested and yet, I couldn’t utter a simple “Mom, you look tired, are you okay?” , “You look pale, is everything alright?” , “Is there something you wanna tell us”, all I did was nervous laughing, along with both my sisters.
Dread, however, was building up inside me. I’m starting to believe the fact that my mom is indeed pregnant, and the thought that there is a possibility that I might lose her grew even stronger.
Nasty memories of strong feelings I had before surfaced in my head and haunted my night.
Tomorrow I’ll work the courage to gather my sisters and talk to Dad and her. We will tell her that we know, that we support every decision she that we will be by her side, through thick and thin.
The next day started pretty rough. I couldn’t get too much sleep, I couldn’t focus on my online studies, I got scolded for not doing my assignment: It sucked. This quarantine lifestyle was starting to get on my nerves. Later that day, I went to Ons to tell her the plan: we all meet in the living room and we bring this subject. We shouldn’t beat around the bush any longer. We should talk it over so she can feel surrounded by her children.
“Oh haven’t I told you already? It was April fools”
It was what?
I didn’t realize what face I was wearing upon hearing this, but by the look of dread and regret on my sister’s face, it was a terrifying one.
“Hey don’t look at me like that! It was your mother’s idea”
My mother tricked me? My mother, the one that I always loved and trusted, betrayed me? She knows I don’t do jokes, that I struggle to understand the humor behind deceiving the other, she should know this better than anyone!
She should’ve known that.
A mixture of rage and disappointment filled my insides. I couldn’t see, nor hear right. My sister’s makeshift of excuses became white noise, as I went towards the one who orchestrated this idiotic play, the one I was so afraid to lose, the one who toyed with my feelings.
As I faced her and my dad, I started telling her about that story from when I thought I’d lose her. She felt genuine discomfort as I conferred to her that memory that I’ve been keeping to myself for years. And as I reached its conclusion and moving along to voice my revolt of her action, my tone rose, my eyes welled up with tears and by the end, I couldn’t stop slurring my words as I broke into the ugly crying.
I hurried to my room and shut everyone’s out. I couldn’t stop crying as I got angrier and more saddened. Feeling betrayed, feeling fooled, feeling hurt and heartbroken, I cried my eyes out. I denied my mom’s constant knocking on the door and her hopeless demands to talk it over with me.
I hate April fools. I really hate it.
I hate how I can’t take jokes. I hate that it makes me feel like a fool and I hate the fact that I can’t wrap my heads around that concept of making jokes and that I can’t for the love of me figure out how to make one without being offensive.
I’m well aware that going through Life while I’m that gullible and naive won’t be an easy ride, that I can’t achieve my dreams if I can’t get over this barrier that I’ve created.
I can’t go on like this. I wish I could but I can’t.
And I couldn’t go on hating my mother, even though I wanted to punish her badly for her prank. So I opened the door and hugged her tight.
I hugged her tightly for an eternity.
I was but a kid, hugging his mother because he was afraid he’d lost his mother.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry I didn’t think that it would go that way, I..”
“I don’t want to hear a word”
I calmed down, I’m between her arms once again and I feel safe once again. My worries were washed away, my self-loathing thoughts disappeared and my mind was clear again.
I was still debating whether I should forgive her or not before I held up the thought. She is here. She won’t go anywhere.
She played with my hair like she was always used to do, as I slowly regained myself and cried less and less.
“You were afraid to lose me, were you?”
“How many moms do you think I have?” I replied.
She revealed to me how the idea came to her and how she talked both of the girls in. She said that she really wanted to add some fun at home since everyone is bored and depressed from the quarantine COVID-19 forced on us. She didn’t expect it to go wrong and she promised that she won’t prank me ever again.
I stopped crying, probably because my eyes tear reservoir or whatever they name it went empty. I didn’t want my family to get gloomier because of me. I already made the mood go down when I reacted heavily moments later. Even my 8-year-old brother cried as he heard my weeping. It sure is nice to know he saw his 21-year-old brother throwing a tantrum.
But deep inside, I didn’t want her to make that promise. I wanted to have fun pranking and getting pranked, to accept being a fool and not to worry about my self-image, to tune the seriousness down a little bit.
I hope I get to love April fools one day.
