The Real Aunt Molly
My Aunt Molly is the kindest, sweetest person on earth. She may not be the cleverest woman in the world, but I love her a lot. However, a strange thing happened to Aunt Molly and now we don't know what to do.
It all started when her husband. Uncle Dalton, died. Well, I called him Uncle Dalton but she always called him 'Dally'. He was my mothers only brother. Aunt Molly really loved him, we all knew that.
Life had been quite difficult for Aunt Molly when she was a child. She was poor and her parents had died early on. She was left to look after herself. She had never learned to read properly and left school at an early age. But she was always cheerful and honest and never complained about the hard work she did to earn her living. She worked as a cleaner wherever there was work to do. She liked cleaning because she didn't have to make any difficult decisions. Aunt Molly didn't like making decisions. Perhaps she wasn't used to it. I don't know. But everybody liked her and she was never out of work.
She met Uncle Dalton when she was working as a cleaner at the bus station. He was a bus driver and it was when he had just finished for the day that he first saw her cleaning the station office. He fell in love with her as soon as he saw her. It was the same for Aunt Molly. As soon as their eyes met it was love for both of them. He soon grew to love her gentleness and she loved his kind heart and willingness to make decisions.
They got married two weeks later.
A year after that she gave birth to twin boys. They were my cousins and their names were Winston and Clement. I was born in the same year two months later. I was called Rufus. I still am. Anyway, Uncle Dalton got a better job at the bus station soon afterwards, and they bought a house near us.
Aunt Molly and Uncle Dalton had a happy marriage. Uncle Dalton earned the money and Aunt Molly cooked, cleaned and made the house a wonderful home for her dear Dally and the boys.
It would not be quite right to say that Aunt Molly actually ran the house. In fact, all the big decisions were left to Uncle Dalton. But she made sure that everything went smoothly. Everybody was happy. I was happy, too, because I liked to play with my cousins. I also looked forward to the delicious home-made biscuits Aunt Molly always gave me.
My cousins and I were five years old when Uncle Dalton was run over by a bus at the station. It was an accident. Uncle Dalton didn't know what hit him and he was killed immediately. Well, I suppose he guessed it was a bus, but I don't think he had much time to think it over, if you see what I mean. Anyway, he was dead.
In a way, once Uncle Dalton had died, I think a part of Aunt Molly died too. She was still a hard worker and remained a good mother to Winston and Clement. Indeed, the routine of running the house was something she no longer needed any help with. My parents and Uncle Dalton's parents — my grandparents — all helped Aunt Molly with the decision making. But the cheerfulness that we had come to expect from her had gone. It was as if all her cheerfulness had died with Uncle Dalton, her 'dear Dally'. She got some money from the bus company because Uncle Dalton had been killed at work. At least she didn't have to leave the twins in order to earn money.
Life continued.
The twins grew into fine boys. But by the time they were fourteen they wanted to see a bit more of the world outside their comfortable home. Both of them were bright and interested in the world outside. Especially Winston. They were beginning to get bored with life at home with all its safe routines.
That's where the trouble really began. Aunt Molly had not really changed since their father's death. She had not even learned to read properly. She never went out and had no outside interests. She spent what free time she had listening to the radio or watching the television, especially game shows.
The boys, though they loved their mother, wanted to decide more things for themselves. And like me, they wanted to go out more. Aunt Molly, however, just wanted to stay at home all the time. The boys never went out much with their mother - whenever they did go out, it was with me and my parents or with our grandparents. Aunt Molly always stayed at home.
It was Winston who thought of taking their mother to the theatre on her next birthday. She would be thirty-nine. The boys planned it all out carefully with the help of the rest of the family. We were all there, my parents and my grandparents.
'I don’t think Mum would like to see a Shakespeare play or anything like that,' said Clement. 'But I'm sure that going to see something would do her good!'
'You're right,' said Gran. 1 think your mother should go to see something she would enjoy. It would make a nice change for her. Something like those shows she likes on the television.'
'Gran, you're brilliant!' said Winston. 'What about that show on the television with that hypnotist guy . . . the