Remember Me

A mirror stands at the back of the room supported by the wall. The room is dimly lit with a projector in the middle and a white canvas on the opposite wall of the mirror. A door opens creakily. A man in a dark hood and a dark cloak walks into the room and attaches a laptop to the projector. As he switches the laptop on a portrait reflection of another man comes in into view in the mirror. 

“I was able to edit the video because there are parts that I felt were a bit irrelevant. I felt there are parts you needed to see.”

“All right. Thank you. Please start the video.”

The man in the dark hood presses the spacebar button on the laptop’s keyboard and a video starts. It has no title, but it starts with a woman standing on the podium. She is crying as she is giving her speech.

“My son. I loved you so much…Why did you leave me? What am I supposed to do without you?”

She straightens herself out, wipes her tears with her handkerchief and looks into the crowd.

“I gave birth to George on the 5^th day of May 1973. At that time he was underweight and we…”

She pauses. It seems she is trying to remember the story.

“I am sorry. As he grew up, he was a happy boy. Actually, very naughty. I remember one day he told the butcher I had sent him to get ‘mutura’ then said I will pay in the evening. When I came home the butcher stopped me and I had to pay, but when I confronted him he gave me and I.O.U and said he will pay me when he gets a job. I laughed so hard I forgot to punish him. Despite his naughtiness, he helped people around the estate and was loved by everybody.”

“He grew up, went to the university, graduated, started working, quit to start his own business and became a millionaire before he was 35. This was before…”

She pauses. Looks at the crowd again. Clearly, she is becoming angry.

“This was before he met a witch.”

There are gasps in the crowd. Another woman rises up from the front.

“Who is a witch?  How dare you? YOU UGLY WOMAN!”

“Who are you calling ugly? Just because you have hid your face through your makeup doesn’t hide the fact that you are an ogre.”

“Ha! Who talks about ogres these day? You ancient woman. Go to hell.”

“That’s where you will go you witch.”

They go after each other’s throats, but are stopped by an intervening crowd. Mama George is helped back to the podium and she continues with her speech.

“As I was saying, this witch (pointing at the witch) stole my son from me. She was always after his money and killed him so that she could take it all. Now, I have nothing. No money and my son is gone.”

“Listen to you. Instead of eulogizing your son, you are asking for his money. What a mother’s love.”

“Shut your mouth before I come there and spank you like the spoilt brat you are.”

“Come baby come.”

They go after each other’s throats again, but the crowd moves swifter and saves the day again.  Mama George composes herself after realizing this crowd is too strong for her. She goes back to the podium, takes a look at the crowd, and starts crying again.

“Now I have no son. Taken away from me. I haven’t eaten in days. I am suffering at home. I have to borrow money from my neighbors in order to survive.”

“It is clear that the only thing that you are missing from your son is his money.”

“Ignoring the rumblings of an ogre, I want to say I miss my son. I have a collection tin going around. Please donate generously, so that my son’s mother can eat. Thank you.”

She goes to sit down where she finds comforting arms to usher her back to the seat. The crowd starts mumbling as the ‘witch’ takes the podium.

“First of all, I am not a witch. My name is Stephanie. I am a human being, and in no way related to an ogre. I have worked all my life and I met George when I had also made my millions. I was the one who supported him as he started his business. I was the one who supported him when his business fell and he fell into depression. That useless man was sleeping around, drinking and just sleeping on the couch from dusk to dawn.”

“He left me with the responsibility of feeding OUR children, paying OUR bills, and taking care of HIS mother. Now here she is slandering my name in front of my children, HER grandchildren. You would think a woman her age would be wise and look at the crowd she is talking to. Instead she is opening her old toothless gums to talk nonsense.”

“Turn it off. I don’t want to watch anymore.” The man in the mirror has seen enough. He asks himself whether that is how he is going to be remembered. A money-bags son? A useless husband? Is nobody going to remember him for his love, hard work and dedication? He always thought people heaped praises on the dead. It was going to be an after-life of regret and neglect.