Chapter Three: Fixed You

There was two years in her life Mumbi remembered fondly. It was the first time since she had inhabited the planet that life was tolerable, pleasant even. It was as if the Earth had turned just right, the starts had aligned in a perfect formation, and the waves that had been perennially beating down on her home had ceased. Those years would be etched in her memory for many to come. Everything had started looking up.

When Mumbi was in her fourth year of primary school, there was an almost imperceptible, yet monumental shift in her parent's relationship. Like with most things, the change didn't happen all at once with fanfare or epiphanies. It was a slow burn, a gradual trickle towards a new normal. The shouting was the first to go. One day, Mumbi found her parents conversing in normal tones. She had to pinch herself to ensure this wasn't just a machination of her imagination. Slowly, they started to converse, to laugh, and enjoy each other's company, not just exist in each other's orbits. A few weeks in and one wouldn't be remiss in concluding they were just another regular family of three.

Then, this new reality got even more unbelievable. Three became four. At first, Mumbi had just thought her mother was gaining weight. She'd catch herself staring at her mother's growing belly, ruminating about how it was rapidly outgrowing her slender frame. Her nose had also widened, and her nostrils flared when she spoke. Her mum, sensing Mumbi's confusion and intrigue, had sat her down and told her the news.

"You're going to be a big sister!"

That was the most excitement her mother had ever allowed herself to express. It was palpable and it infected Mumbi with immediacy. She was going to have a sibling! She remembered how tightly she hugged her mum, and how quickly she'd released her soon after for fear of hurting her baby brother or sister. This new normal was simply the gift that kept giving. For the first time in her life, it felt like she was part of an actual family, not walking amidst two strangers whose disdain for each other painted every wall in their home red.

When she met her baby sister for the first time, the only thought running circles in her mind was how much she loved her. She had thought she loved baby Shiru when she did not know her, but meeting her, holding her, brought forth a love this little girl had not thought possible. They were inseparable from day one, and her baby sis lit up anytime she saw or heard Mumbi. She was the spitting image of her mother, as if someone had taken her mum's features, shrunk them, and transferred them onto her tiny, cherubic face. She was a happy baby, and she filled their home with unbridled joy. It was oozing from her father's pores, and permeating through her mother's every movement. It was a joy so transformative that it seemingly mended all the cracks in the family.

Mumbi began to look forward to spending every possible minute at home. She'd run from the steps of the school bus and up the steps to her parents' room every day after school to stare in wide-eyed admiration at those chubby cheeks, and cradle those soft little arms. Her mum had taken her three months of maternity, stretched those by a few days, then a few weeks, and it culminated with her resigning altogether to spend time with her girls. She was a whole new person. Sometimes Mumbi would catch herself feeling the stinging tinge of envy creeping in, and quickly dismiss it. After all, she wanted to spend every waking moment with Shiru, school and friends be damned. Why wouldn't her mum want to too? It wasn't like she wasn't reaping the new-found benefits of having a present mother either. She'd always get home to a snack tray thoughtfully splayed out with fruit, or biscuits, or crisps, with a juice box or milk to wash it down. Her mum got her ready every morning, cooked every meal (including whatever yummy contents filled her lunchbox), and spent the day waiting on her baby sister - despite her father's discountenance and insistence that she let their live-in help her.

She never seemed to tire, and if she did, she didn't show it. Perhaps it was her way of making amends, atoning for the ten years Mumbi had not known her, or her love. Her shoulders hunched no more, and her eyes glimmered with new hope. They all had Shiru to thank - she had given them back a wife, a mother, a friend. She had plugged a hole they didn't know how to find, filled a void that had seemed an abyss to that point. She had made them a family.

For the first year of Shiru's life, Mumbi was holding her breath. Despite the joy that she knew now, her mind never allowed her to forget what life had looked like. She was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, afraid that some cruel twist of fate would pull the rug out from under her, breaking her reverie and bringing things crashing back down. She tiptoed around this precariously perched new reality, so as not to unbalance the scales or upset the powers that be that had allowed them to have such joy. You know that feeling when things are going so well you can't help but worry that it's only a matter of time before it all goes terribly wrong? When the gods look to be endowing you with a bit too much good fortune, you start to fear the future? Mumbi was the walking, talking, embodiment of it. She made sure she was on her best behaviour, and she watched Shiru like a hawk, rationalising that as long as she was good and the baby was good, they would all be good.

Mumbi remembered a Geography lesson she had. They were learning about volcanos, and how some stayed dormant for years, but out of nowhere could erupt and bring forth unfathomable destruction. The lesson was not particularly poignant or a fable imbued with a moral lesson at the end. However, it had stuck with her - a nagging itch in her mind she couldn't quite scratch. Perhaps it was because her subconscious recognised that things on the surface may have been spick and span, but whatever had been bubbling over all those years simply didn't cease to exist. Suppressed didn't mean eliminated. It was her brain's way of preparing for her the inevitable and ultimately cataclysmic act that started a consuming spiral of unfortunate, inconceivable events their whole family would have to fight tooth and nail to claw their way out of.

In retrospect, Mumbi was glad she'd gotten those two years of joy. She only wished she had enjoyed them more before the light in her life was almost completely snuffed out.