I was an elephant

Thump.

I didn’t open my eyes yet. I knew that the two books I had read the night before had fallen on the floor.  I felt different. I had felt different yesterday before falling asleep.  Living in a summer scheduless time and moving to countryside had been tough. The doctors would have suspected a malfunction of machines had they observed my brain activity in the summer. They wouldn’t have received any readings on the screen. In the winter the same brain would have overheated the machines, causing short circuits. Adjusting to no goals, no pressure, and detaching myself from a virtual world had slowed my brain to almost stillness. Last night had been different. After a chapter from Kate DiCamillo’s The Magician’s Elephant and a story from Haruki Murakami’s The Elephant Vanishes, I had felt a sting in the frontal lobe. It sent shivers down my spine. Yet it wasn’t strong enough to keep me awake or make me analyze anything.

Thump. I put my feet on the floor and sat on the bed.  I felt heavy. I slowly opened my eyes. I stared at the reflection on the window. Oh, I wish I had read about giraffes last night. I would have loved to see tall legs and wide deep brown eyes. I saw grey wrinkled skin, enormous ears, and a long trunk. I wasn’t sure what to do with the trunk. I tried throwing it over my shoulder, but it slid back. “Accept who you are,” I said out loud. I was an elephant.

With trepidation I stepped to the porch. My mom, sister, aunts, and daughters didn’t scream nor run off. They smiled and continued their chat. Familiar faces around the table updated me with the life of distant relatives. The breakfast table with pancakes on flowery plates and milk in the red dotted cups looked pinteresting.   The air was filled with tweets of birds. I passed the words and logged in to the garden.

I was an elephant. May-be I had been an elephant all my life I just hadn’t realized it. I wasn’t sure whether I was there or not. It had happened before. I was the elephant that ran across the basketball court and nobody noticed me. Of course everyone had seen the gorilla. May be not at first, but certainly later when pointed to it. Nobody had ever seen me.

For the rest of the day I stood in the garden. Everyone else was busy. My sister mowed the lawn around me.  She winked. My aunts weeded the vegetable patch. They waved. My daughters planted some flowers. They came close to let my ears fan them.  My mom peeled the potatoes. She passed me and patted my neck. They knew. I was an elephant. I wasn’t the hard working kind. I was the vain who liked performing in front of others.  But I didn’t have my glittery headband nor pink tutu, so I stood still. No applause for me.

Dishes. That’s what they gave me. There is no truth to the saying about an elephant in a china shop. I proved to be the just right elephant for the dishwashing job. I was marvelous.  I used my trunk skillfully and delicately. I didn’t break a bowl, a plate, a cup, nor a saucer.  I got the applause. They put a floral wreath on my head and danced around me.

When my husband arrived in the evening, he wasn’t shocked either. I was an elephant - a divine being. Never anger the goddess had always been his motto. I loved being worshipped. 

Thump.