In this scene, the excitement of the past weeks comes to a climax. Karen and Mama both cry, but their love carries them through the difficult moment.

Scene 9: Tears of Frustration, Tears of Change

Halfway across the gravel lot, she and Pegasus met Mama. She dismounted and had the Chevy door open before Mama could stop.

Hopping in, she started to say, “Hi!” but stopped.

“Mama, you’re crying! What’s wrong?”

“Krana Layala, how many times do I have to tell you not to open the car door when the vehicle is moving? You want to hop out before I can stop, and now you’re hopping in before I can stop. One of these days, you’re going to get hurt, and then whose fault will it be? What will your Grandfather Max and Grandmother Annie say? Who will they blame? ‘You never took good care of Karen, did you Katie?’ That’s what they’ll say. And how am I going to reply with my little girl back in the hospital, maybe in another coma? Please!”

Karen sat silently, and then cried, too. Mama rarely yelled at her. When she did, it meant things were serious.

Kitten was happy about finding the stable for Pegasus. She was happy about him coming alive, though her heart was still broken about the carousel closing. She was happy about moving close to him. She was sad about leaving the home that she and Mama had shared for many years. Waves of feeling rose up and overwhelmed her. She looked to her mother and sobbed.

Mama turned off the engine and sat up very straight. Tears had turned her foundation makeup into mud. The tears stopped. Taking a thin, silk handkerchief from her purse, she looked into the mirror on the car’s sun visor and carefully wiped off the streaks of makeup.

After taking a deep breath, she put her arms around Karen and said, “I get weak sometimes, my dear, so please forgive my yelling at you. After you left to walk over here, I was sitting in the car, all alone. I watched you walk away, practically running, and using both legs. I thought about how you almost died after I let that doctor give you the shot, when you were a baby. You couldn’t stand up, much less walk for so long, and here you are running and riding horses, too. I broke down and cried, but then it was time to drive over here and get you, and I couldn’t stop crying for joy. I try to be the Rock of Gibraltar, but I’m not it. I’m not much of a rock. And I’m sorry I yelled at you, but please don’t get in and out of the car when it’s moving. That’s only for stuntmen in movies. It’s not for little girls, even if they are growing up fast. Okay?”

©2021, Karen Lynn-Chlup. All rights reserved.