There were three girls, Nana, Kiki, and Zuzu, living together in a small house with a large backyard. Nana was the smart one. Kiki was the pretty one and Zuzu was the dumb one.
Every day Nana went to school with books and pencils and erasers and rulers neatly packed in her backpack. Nana loved to visit the computer room, where she could sit by herself and punch in numbers and formulae. Kiki also went to school, but she didn’t read books. She liked to chat and hang out with friends.
Zuzu always stayed home and played by herself in the large backyard. Zuzu couldn’t read. Zuzu couldn’t write. Zuzu couldn’t talk. She buried things in the backyard, things that had once been alive. She buried things from Mama’s kitchen: carrots, turnips, shells, chicken bones, eggs, fish bones, ox tails, potato peels, grapes, seeds of fruits. She buried things from their living room: goldfish, plants, birds, when they stopped moving. She did not bury Kiki’s socks or her ribbons. She did not bury Nana’s books or papers. So nobody minded what she buried in the backyard. No one asked why she chose the things she did.
In spring many plants broke ground in the backyard. In summer it got crazy. Next to pumpkin vines crawling on the ground, sunflowers stood high above. Papaya and avocado turned the garden into a tropical island and died away when the first autumn wind touched the frail leaves. Baby trees were everywhere. Flowers had no sense of order. You could bump into huge watermelons with cute green stripes. Grasshoppers were jumping around and ants were marching from one place to another. Mama never bought any herbs from the store. She just had to step outside into Zuzu’s garden. Things came back in other forms. And they grew and grew like kudzu in the South. The girls ate watermelons for lunch. Mama baked pumpkin pies. Grape vines crawled up a pine tree. Everything was sweet and rich and nobody cared why. Spiders and caterpillars, which Nana did not like, were everywhere. When something stopped growing, Zuzu buried it in the garden.
One day, Zuzu buried Kiki’s white rabbit fur coat. Zuzu never buried Nana’s stuffed animals. Zuzu never buried Kiki’s dolls. Mama had to tell her not to bury fur coats. But nobody knew if she understood or not.
Nana went to the upper school. Kiki ceased to go to school. All day long Nana wrote and read and calculated. All day long Kiki chatted and chatted. All day long Zuzu stayed in her garden. At night, they ate supper together with Mama.
A peach tree Zuzu had planted long ago became very big. Birds came to the tree and made a nest. Mama bird laid eggs and the eggs became small, tiny baby birds. One day Kiki found a dead baby bird on the ground. There was no storm, no rain, no wicked bird. The baby had just dropped. Zuzu buried the dead bird near the sunflowers as usual.
Grandmother got sick and Mama left to see her. The three girls stayed home by themselves. Kiki got sick and moaned and cried. Nana was worried. Zuzu didn’t say anything. In the morning Kiki had a baby, and it was dead, with blood all over its tiny body. There was no storm, no tornado. Just warm white sunlight shining through the leaves in the garden.
Nana gave the dead baby to Zuzu. She buried it next to the kitten that had died three years ago. Then they forgot about the baby. Zuzu did not forget.
Nana left home to go to college. Kiki left home to be a movie star. Zuzu stayed home with Mama.
Nana earned a lot of degrees and went to work in the big city. She had lots of money in the bank. She invested her money everywhere. She traded bonds and stocks, and bought and sold real estate. Mama did not understand what Nana was talking about, so Nana stopped talking to Mama. Nana got married to a rich man with a boring tie and had three girls. One day she killed them all with a butcher knife. They were buried somewhere. Since Nana was rich and could hire a famous lawyer, they had her sent to a hospital. After a couple of years Nana came back to Mama’s house. She did not read or write anymore. She died without saying a word to anybody. Zuzu buried her in the backyard, next to the kitten.
Kiki earned a lot of admirers and bought jewelry, fur coats, dresses, and cars. She won a trip to Europe. She made a lot of friends there. She went to parties with her jewelry and her admirers. Kiki got married three or four times and had babies, all of which were stillborn. They were buried somewhere. After her last husband left for a young girl who looked like Kiki when she was pretty in white, Kiki got sick and came back to Mama’s house with jewelry and fur coats and dresses and cars, but without health insurance. Kiki did not look pretty anymore. Kiki did not chat anymore. She lay in her room and got sicker and sicker, and one day died without saying a word. Zuzu buried Kiki in the backyard next to the baby.
Mama was very sad. She could not eat any of the things that grew in the backyard. Mama said, “I lost the smart one, then I lost the pretty one.” Zuzu turned to Mama and opened her mouth and said, “Take it easy, Mama. I survived.”
Then Mama realized that she had never had triplets, but only one daughter.
Zuzu and Mama lived together, and the garden kept growing. Mama began to recognize what had been there all along.
Author’s note
This story comes from a time when my inner world lived in fragments. The figures are not separate people, but parts of a psyche shaped by survival. Zuzu, in her own way, held what could still grow.
Somatic Awareness 