(aka Bike) Part 1896 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad
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I read an article in the Guardian about the importance of being Mary. Apparently, some girls who play the Virgin Mary in school plays go on to become top career women. She also mentioned that some boys might also have played the part. How true that was, some of us also went on to become top career women. Well, okay, maybe top is an exaggeration, but the career woman bit isn’t–least not in my case.
It made me smile thinking back to the experience of wearing the blue headscarf–yes, mine had been blue as well. Something to do with the blue sky apparently, wow, talk about superiority symbolism?
So you see, all my problems stem back to that moment of being picked to star in the nativity play, from being dragged about on the back of that bloody donkey to arguing with the Angel Gabriel, not to mention the three wise monkeys, I mean men.
“What are you smiling at?” demanded Simon.
“I was just thinking about something.”
“I told you that’s dangerous.”
“Only for men.” I threw back at him.
“Oh that’s okay then. What were you thinking about?”
“The nativity play when I was in the reception class at infant’s school.”
“Don’t tell me, you played the Angel Gabriel.”
“No,” I smirked.
“Not the Angel Catherine?”
“Nope.”
“A wise man?”
“Nope.”
“Joseph?”
“Do I look like a Joseph?”
“Alright, so you shaved your beard off? It was Jesus, wasn’t it, and you’ve shaved your beard off?”
“Baby Jesus didn’t have a beard.” I shook my head in disbelief.
“Oh yeah, um–Herod?”
“Si, since when does King Herod appear in nativity plays?”
“Knowing you, about twenty four years ago.”
“No–there was no King Herod in our nativity play.”
“The innkeeper–or his barmaid–that’s it, a barmaid.”
“Simon, we’re talking five year olds.”
“Okay, a milk maid?”
“No–think back to when you were five years old.”
“Um–I want a bicycle or a Scalectric or a football, Santa.”
I slapped him on the arm, “Behave, now who else was at the nativity?”
“Well, I went to a prep school, so we had two stockbrokers, a neonatal nurse and an obstetrician as well as the three wise men.”
“You’re joking,” I gasped.
“Of course I am. Okay, a shepherd?” I shook my head. “Not one of the sheep?”
I glowered at him, “I have never been one of the sheep.”
“Ah, a clue, you were a goat,” he said with a sort of confidence I was about to undermine.
“No, I wasn’t any sort of animal.”
“Damn, that means the Easter bunny is out as well then.”
“This is the Christmas Story, Simon,” I scolded.
“Well, I’m running out of characters–I suppose the Dormouse or the White Rabbit is out too?”
“Yes, you twit.”
“I can’t think of anyone else–you weren’t God, were you?”
“No I wasn’t. What does nativity mean?”
“Something to do with birth–um–a midwife?”
“No, there isn’t one in the traditional scene.”
“I don’t know.”
“What d’you need for a birth scene?”
“Um, lots of hot water and towels?”
“What?” Who was this man impersonating my husband?
“Well that’s what they do in the films.”
Shook my head. “Simon, think carefully, what two people do you need for a birth scene?”
“Um–a baby.”
“Yes, and where does the baby come from?” This was like pulling teeth.
“Um–Marks and Spencer–no, Mothercare.”
“You what?” I almost shrieked at him.
“The mother,” he squeaked.
“Yes, finally. So who do we have at The Nativity?”
“Baby Jesus,” he said blushing.
“Yes.”
“But you said you weren’t the baby.”
“I did, so who does that leave?”
“Um, Joseph?”
“NO–Jesus Christ,” I swore.
“I said him.”
“NO–His Bloody MOTHER,” I said very loudly.
“Mrs Jesus?”
I slapped my head, “Who?”
“Um–his mother–um the virgin woman...”
“What, Lady Branson–Sir Richard’s wife?”
“Yeah–no, that Mary woman.”
“Which Mary woman?”
“Oh shit–oh yeah–the Virgin Mary.”
I nodded and clapped him.
“You played the Virgin Mary?”
“Blessed Virgin Mary,” I said copying Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean.
“You played the Blessed Virgin Mary?”
“Yes.”
He looked at me strangely then smiled, “That explains a few things.”
“Like what?” I demanded.
“You being such a natural mother.Anyone who could raise God should have no problems with mortal children.”
“You what?”
“Well, she wouldn’t would she?”
“It was a stage role, for God’s sake.”
He fell about laughing, “Oh yes, very funny.”
“What was?” I had no idea why he was laughing.”
“What you said.”
“What did I say?” he’d lost me completely.
“A stage role for God’s sake–it was, wasn’t it?”
I repeated this a few times before I saw what he was talking about and shook my head. I’d forgotten what this was all about it had gone on so long, and I felt irritable rather than warm and nostalgic.
“I’m going to make a cuppa–want one?”
“Yeah, okay,” he said and followed me out to the kitchen. I switched on the kettle and he asked, “Did you really play the Virgin Mary in the school nativity?”
“Yes I did,” I snapped at him.
“Okay, okay–I believe you. It’s just I thought you were...”
“I was a boy in those days, or living as one.”
“That’s what confused me.”
No, Si, your brain confused you. “Oh did it?” I asked indifferently as I made the tea.
“Yeah, so how come you played the part–I thought junior schools were co-ed?”
“It was, but Mollie–whatever her name was–went sick with smallpox or venereal disease and I had to step in at the last moment.”
“Didn’t they have any other girls in the school?”
“Apart from me, you mean?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, avoiding my ire.
“Loads but none of them knew the lines.”
“So how come you did?”
“I started out as one of the shepherds and I just learnt all the lines and positions, none of the others did–ergo–I was Mary.”
“Did your parent’s not come to the play?”
“Yep, my mother noticed immediately, but Dad didn’t until she told him a bit later on. The school had to creep round her for a few weeks after that. I thought it was great, and according to the teacher in charge of the play, Mrs Murphy, I think it was, told me I saved the day. About the first time I ever received a genuine compliment. I nearly burst my shirt front with pride.”
“You were wearing a shirt under the costume?”
“No, I was wearing a dress with a long skirt and the wimple thing, all in blue.”
“I thought blue was a very difficult colour to make in those days and very expensive, so Mary as a carpenter’s wife wouldn’t have been able to afford it, would she?”
He had a point, until chemical dyes were invented, blue was expensive. “I suspect that was a bit of symbolism from a later era.”
“Oh okay. I’ll bet you were a cracking Mary–what did your dad say?”
“As it wasn’t my idea, he couldn’t say anything much at all but he told them on no account was I to do such a thing again.”
“But you said he didn’t recognise you?”
“He didn’t. He wasn’t looking for me as Mary. He was looking for me as a shepherd, because that’s what he thought I played.”
Simon sipped his tea and shook his head. “So, you were an actress back in infants school–no wonder Lady Macbeth was such a success–it’s in your genes–it must be.”
I shrugged–I wasn’t wearing jeans.
Comments
Oh, Simon!
Very occasionally he has a flash of inspiration / intellect, but more often than not when engaged in a conversation with Cathy about almost anything other than his specialist subject (money and the uses thereof), he can be a little dim. OK, so you wouldn't normally expect a boy to play the BVM, but come on, this is Cathy we're speaking about, and she'd hardly recount tales of a Nativity playing a typical male role, so that just leaves the angels (including Gabriel[le]), an animal (usually reserved for the youngest - nursery/reception) or the prima donna role, which, given the fact that particular play above all others is the one that's embedded in her memory, is probably the most likely character...
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
Why Do I think that Simon
was being intentionally dense to tease the Virgin Cathy?
May Your Light Forever Shine
Some do believe...
Some do believe that Jesus Christ was God due to a bit of shameless manipulation of the first part of the book of John. Myself, I think it was nonsense.
G
Oh, my...
What makes me think Simon wasn't quite as "dense" as he let on... Some of those guesses were quite stretches, even for him.
The puns were, as usual, top form.
Thank you,
Annette
Simon? Dense?
I really don't think so. I believe he was teasing Catherine about the entire episode! He knew who Charley played in the nativity! And I think Cathy knew he knew, and was teasing him right back. I suspect the evening episode in bed would be quite interesting, but we don't go there, do we? Never have before anyway, so why start now?
You two felines are getting quite adept at spinning puns! Scritch,Scratch, and Rubbie Rubbie!
Don't let someone else talk you out of your dreams. How can we have dreams come true, if we have no dreams?
Katrina Gayle "Stormy" Storm
Cathy
as they say, needs to learn to take a joke, even if Si does over-do them sometimes. She needs to unwrap a bit and let herself laugh, instead of playing thick. Other than that, she's learning slowly how to be an imperfect human. But it is fun to read.
I don't care what anybody says
It was a fun conversation. Yes, Simon was putting her on.
Thanks, Ang
Much Love,
Valerie R
Fun to read these interchanges now and then
Shows a strong relationship between Cathy and Simon even though they sometimes have their differences. Love the comic relief episodes as much as the drama. Thanks!
Well, Yes...
Okay we all know Simon can be or seem to be a little dense at times, But we musn't forget the job he holds, Yes i know its his dads bank, But Henry is nothing other than an astute businessman and if Simon was as bad as he sometimes appears to be then you can be pretty sure he would be looking for work very quickly, Seems to me that any problem Simon has is more about his love of schoolboy humour than stupidity... Long may it continue it certainly makes for a good laugh..
Kirri