The lazy fingers of night stretched across the low Southern sky, scratching a trail of darker blue, sprinkled with stars like glitter on that March night sky in 1987. A lone figure sat behind a typewriter in the house across the property from her parents. Pecking away in a manner that best describes the ‘Columbus Method of Typing’ of seek, land and conquer. Diligently she sat, working on the next great American novel that would most likely never be read, much less published.
Positioning the cigarette that hung slightly tilted from the side of her mouth with her left hand, she than grabbed up her large calico, Gretchen, with her right hand in an effect to get her off the table where she had began hogging the light that had been shining from the black brass lamp with the scene of Mount Fuji etched into it. Her red hair held back with a bandanna and a generous helping of clay mineral mask on her face and the Preperation H around her eyes.
Making herself a large mug of coffee, she then sat down behind the typewriter and began again.
A strange new wind had slowly begun to blow in from the bay, a strange new warm wind that only the animals of the wild could sense. Rabbits, Opossums, Deer, and all the birds stopped in their tracks, stopped fluttering in their nests, stuck their heads from their burrows and listened, every one.
In the meantime, she had tired of sitting up so long, as she was recovering from what had been ‘charted’ as a serious injury and could only sit up for two hours at a time. She opted to and did, lie on the big soft couch, not long afterwards she had fell asleep. She began dreaming the dreams of successful writing. For in her dreams she was the best, not some flunky golf course worker. Not anymore.
She felt a tug on her shoulder. A soft voice like unto a whisper in her ear. Her eyes opened, or so she thought they had. She smiled, for the face smiling down at her was her own mama’s. But mama had changed. Something about her was different and she just couldn’t say just what it was, but, it was not normal.
Silver strands replaced the gray that had streaked her hair and there was a sparkle in her blue eyes that wasn’t there before and as her mama opened her mouth to speak, her own mind was screaming, “Wake up!! This ain’t real!”…and her Mama spoke with a gentleness that she could only remember her speaking like that when her children were hurt, sick or scared.
Her mama sat down in the rocker-recliner next to the couch, looked at her and said, “I’m going home!”
She thought to herself, ‘Okay, but you only live across the yard’. At that moment her mama smiled and said, “No, I’m going home!” The longest second in the world was taking it’s own sweet time getting there. The silence was eerie and she remembered she had locked all the doors. “How did you get in here?” was what she wanted to ask, and yet the only thing her mouth would come up with was, “But.” Her mama smiled on. Until for some reason or other she began to talk. What to do with her stuff, the estate, who to contact, as in the executor and the lawyer, how to handle the funeral, and on and on.
She could not believe what she was hearing. Her mind was screaming really loud now, ‘wake up’! All she could do was look at her mama. The gray and yellow striped flannel gown she had been wearing when she had been over earlier to visit with her mom and dad, was slowly becoming wet as tears of frustration and fear welled up in her eyes, ran down her cheeks and fell onto it.
Her mama stood up, bent over, and kissed her cheek. Brushing away the tears with one hand, she reached out with the other to hold her mama’s hand, if for only one last time, her mama had already reached for it, yet, it went through. Rising slowly from the couch she made to hug and kiss her when what had appeared to be her mama turned into a fine cloud and her arms went through and met as if she were merely hugging air.
At this time her mama had re-materialized, but, she was no longer wearing the old white flowered flannel nightgown, she was now clad in a heavenly silver silk-satin gown. She smiled at her youngest and with a tear of joy kissed her cheek once more and said, “Baby, I’m going home. Take care of your father, ‘cause he’s really gonna need ya.”
And with a wave of her left hand she turned, reached down and gave the old cat a long smooth stroke down from her head to the tip of her tail as the cat weaved circles in and between her ankles, passed through the door and floated on the porch as a huge beautiful gold and silver escalator-looking thing came down from the heavens and her mama stepped on. Without any further words or motions, she had risen effortlessly into the sky until she was gone.
She watched from the porch as the heavenly escalator vanished with her mama. Standing there, disbelief was only one of the emotions tearing at her now. She stumbled back to the couch like something from a bad sci-fi movie, shook her head, trying to shake back some minute chance of reality. “No!” She kept saying, louder and again until she could herself screaming.
Her body wracked with deep grieving sobs, she made to control it, at least long enough to call over to her parent’s house just to make sure. Her eyes coming fully open, her mind clearing, she pushed the buttons that made the magical connection.
“Hello?”, her dad answered the phone in his sleepy three O’clock in the morning voice. “Check mom now, and make sure she’s breathing, I’ll explain it later. Now!” She could hear her dad gently waking her mama up and finally her mama’s voice rang clear like unto a bell in the grand old South, sweet and clear, and without any further words she threw on her robe and hobbled, waddled and stumbled her way over to their house to see for herself.
The relief she experienced was more then mere words could ever express, for as she entered the front door and was making a trail for the back bedroom where they slept, they were up and meeting her in the hall. With tears of intense joy and relief she hugged them both. Breaking down from time to time to sob shamelessly at the mere thought of losing the only two people that meant that much to her. They talked until way into the dawn, and at five O’clock she had to go back to her own house, for now she could truly rest.