The Cobra Game

     

When I want to remember something happy, I remember our "cobra game" best - Gabriella's (or Gaby as she is called) and mine.  

    Gaby, all of three years old, would start coming from one end of the house.  

    I was supposed to act like a stupid and complacent person, loitering in the sofa.  All the while, I would be going on an incessant, on-the-spot commentary.  So, it runs like this:  

    "I am sitting in my house.  It is very peaceful.  Sunny."  I am sipping my tea. " (I might actually be sipping Aneta's green tea while speaking). I keep improvising these dialogues for each game.  

    I might add as if talking to myself:  "There is nothing to worry!  All's well with me and the world..." or something like that.  

`    Then, Gaby will appear  from the next room.  I have to pretend I am seeing something suspicious coming from very far away.  Sometimes, I make up a landscape filled with hills and trees and treacherous corners.  Sometimes it is a view from very far, where Gaby is appearing like a dot, coming closer and closer, like the inevitability of destiny.  

    Of course, the fun for me, and Gaby, lies in my incessant commentary:  "Oh, what is that thing crawling towards the house?  I can't see it well..."  By now, I am screwing my eyes to see better and acting it out.  Gaby is mirroring my excitement by coming very fast towards me.  I will continue the dialogue by again, pretending complacence even at face of danger.  I might say things like:  "I hope it is nothing dangerous.  Maybe a dog.  Maybe a bird...nothing to worry."  

    By now, Gaby's face will be all flush with the excitement of the game.  Its a hunt for her.  Now, she would be coming with speed, seriously drawing herself forward.  

    By the time she reaches me, I will act totally surprised and cry out:  "Oh, it is a cobra!  It is going to bite me.  Somebody save me!"  

    By now, Gaby would be so excited, and she would be aiming to touch my face all the while gnashing her teeth, more like a dog than a cobra (but who cares?).  Once she touches me, I have to die, supposedly with a snake bite.  

    I am her reward, her hunt. And, I happily die for her.  

    This is our own little "cobra game."  We restart the game, the moment I "die" with the cobtra bite.  We play it again, and again and yet again.  Never tiring, never ending it, in an endless loop of love.