Hello, Mamma?

Courtesy Aly Hughes

(Several weeks ago, my cousin alerted me to a contest NPR was running. She said, "You are all over this!" With apologies to my dear cousin, a writer in her own right who humbles me with her belief in me, I did not complete this short story by the deadline. So, for your reading pleasure, may I present the contest entry I SHOULD have submitted!)

So many strangers have climbed down off'n that bus. Any more, I don't pay much mind. Some days, I don't even see it come or go. Only sign I see is the empty toilet paper roll I gotta change after they on down the road.

I still don't know what it was. A stirring in the breeze that kicked a tumbleweed across the front window of the diner? The fly buzzin' 'round the pie case that caught my eye and made me look that a-way? All I know is I looked up in time to see that door snap open, and there she was.

Pecos, NM

The bright lights of my concrete oasis had her feelin' with her feet so she wouldn't tumble on out. She stopped a minute, shivered against the desert cold, and folded in on herself trying to conserve her body heat. Sun was just peepin' over the horizon and hadn't melted the chill from the dawnin' day.

Shoot! I seen some hard luck cases come thru here. Shoot. Ain't nobody come off them buses ain't got some sad story to tell. Mostly, they on their way from one hard luck place to a harder one. She seemed outa place like she won't any more familiar with her circumstance than she was with her momentary surroundings.

She looked 'round uncertainly – waitin' to take her cue from the other nomads filin' off the bus. As the crowd headed toward the snack machines and bathrooms, she seemed to collect herself. She broke from the herd and headed toward my door.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

“Mornin',” I allowed as I eyed her and the pair of flies that had joined forces makin' themselves ta home. I took my dishrag and swatted the air. The flies abandoned their pie-lust and evacuated to the safety of the front windows.

“Um..ahem..I..uh.. I was wondering if I could sit for a bit?”

“Fine by me. That bus gone roll on outa here by quarter after whether you on it or not. Next one through in two days. Nearest town fifty miles. Suit yourself.” Over the years hiding away here in this corner of nowhere, I'd gotten pretty good at warning folks off if'n they got too close.

Her sigh and shoulders both sagged as she sank onto the bar stool. She'd be gone soon enough along with her worries. I don't make small talk. I left her to her own devices.

I guess she forgot I was there 'cause it seemed like she was talking to herself. “I can handle beginnings. It's endings I don't know how to do.” Her voice trailed off for a few seconds. “I wish...I wish I coulda told them I was leaving. I just didn't know how. I couldn't take it no more..ya know. It was then or never, so I just made my decision and left before I could stop myself. I guess they'll forgive me one day......”

Pecos, NM

She looked out through the plate glass windows and shrugged a limp, weary shrug. Her face knotted up to cry, but no tears came. If I had to guess, I'd say she'd cried her tears all out a long time before she staggered down off'n that bus into my hideaway. I could tell right then, she was gonna be shrugging that shrug for the rest of her life....just like me.

The sun was beginnin' to wash the sky in daylight as the passengers stopped millin' 'round and headed back to the bus. She slipped off the stool and headed back herself. Her walk told me her feet were dragging her where her heart wasn't sure she wanted to go. She stopped, turned around, and looked at me as if she was seein' me for the first time. “Sure is peaceful around here,” she says, “Take care now.”

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

The air brake let off a reluctant hiss as the bus lurched back onto the ribbon of road to nowhere. I pulled a slip of paper out of my apron pocket. The creases were so deep that it would become a jigsaw puzzle any day. I ran my fingers over the numbers. Wonder if it would ring if I dialed it? My heart dragged me over to the phone despite reluctant feet that kept asking if I was sure.

My hands shook as I dialed the numbers. My heart echoed in my ears when it rang. “Hello....Mamma? Is that you? It's me...me....yea..it's me!”

Rip Tides of Life

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

The swells were mostly absent. Every few minutes the ocean would rise just a bit but not enough to create a trough. There were no white caps as far as the eye could see. The forecast storm clouds had yet to make their appearance. Ocean breezes were just enough to cool without tossing umbrellas across the sand. I felt as tho' I had dodged a bullet. Despite the forecast, the weather failed to rob me of the last few precious hours of my stay. I had squeezed in one more date with my love, the ocean. What a perfect day.

I didn't notice the absence of the school of dolphin that daily stood sentry just off shore nor of the ever present sea gulls that usually did aerial maneuvers just above our heads. I would think of their absence later and feel as if I should have known something was amiss. My eyes were too full to see the forest for the trees, I guess.

The 3 of us scampered toward the water and dove in expecting to frolic the way we had 48 hours before. We began the rituals of ocean play. I rolled from floating on my back to my belly expecting to stand only inches from where I had begun my float. As I turned, my eyes locked with a father seated where the waves made their final lapping brushes with the shore before heading back out to sea. The distance between us changed so rapidly that I knew I was moving much faster than I should have been. I was not being pushed toward the shore. My feet felt for the ocean floor. Nothing.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

I did not panic, but I looked at my husband and son knowing I needed to leverage their height to my advantage. “Grab me!” I yelled. “Grab! ME!” I repeatedly more urgently. Their eyes widened, and their smiles faltered. The father nearer the shore looked at me with more concern. I could see him deciding if he needed to join the fray on my behalf. I continued to move away from the shore as if I had been shot out of a cannon.

My 2 testosterone units started to close the gap and quickly realized it would take more work than they thought. Realization dawned as they felt the undertow grab them as well. I was swimming toward them without making any headway. I thought about those pools they advertise as drop in replacements for home spas. The ones where you can swim in place till you are a size 5 again. I wondered if a situation such as mine is what led some engineer to envision the set up. Funny the things you think when you are too afraid to feel the fear.

Two sets of larger hands grasped mine and pulled me toward the shore. I felt shifting sands beneath my feet and knew if I gave even an inch, the same tide would hurtle me away from land again. Our play became less frolic and more tentative posturing. We understood the power hidden below that lake-like facade. Safe tho' it had seemed, the tide was playing a game below the glassy surface of the water. For the uninitiated, the game would quickly become risky if not downright dangerous. I was a little more shaken than I let on. My love, the sea, had almost betrayed me.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Later, after the storms had broken loose in earnest, we made our way back to the mainland. The tide had come in. The tidal marshes were lush and green. Darkness was coming. The coastal pines stood in formation as if guarding the secrets of the estuary they inhabited. We commented on how spooky. If you believed in 'haints' these coastal byways were not where you wanted to troubleshoot a broken down car. Shivers tried to erupt along my spine.

I stared out into the growing darkness and thought how much my watery trap reminded me of the monster in the shadows and the havoc he has wrecked on our lives. I thought about the re-wedding. In those blissful days of reconciliation, I had frolicked while failing to realize the hidden power the monster still possessed below the surface of our lives. After all, the monster had been revealed. What could that shadowy presence do to us anymore? Ignorance is bliss till you are not ignorant anymore.

In the weeks following the ceremony, a nagging sense began to work at me. Call it an undertow in life if you will. I'd be lost in laughter and anticipation only to look up and see something I could not quite put my finger on. Distance. Wariness. An ill-at-ease look as if he was somehow feeling cornered. Not quite deer in the headlights but something close. Finally, I went to the counselor who had resided over the re-wedding trying to make sense out of the tensions below the surface. One set of tensions, it seemed, had been replaced with another.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

The reassurances were well intended but did nothing to quell the rising uneasiness. Some unknown tide, whose force I didn't understand, seemed determined to draw us apart as surely as the rip tide had tried to carry me out to sea. Again, I rearranged the puzzle pieces of our lives. I had them all. Of that I was sure. I just couldn't figure out how to make them fit. Our play became less carefree frolic and more tentative posturing.

It would take almost 5 years before I learned the term 'surrogate abuser' and learned what that hidden force had meant in our lives. I always felt its presence and had even pointed out its existence. My insistence that I was 'not the enemy' had always drawn puzzling responses. At last I knew why. No matter how my spouse intended to relate to me, the hidden force was the dictator of his heart. His heart whispered that no matter what I did to prove my devotion, I was really the enemy. I could not be trusted with his safety. Sadly, life dynamics being what they are, he was as puzzled by his reactions, and more clueless, than was I. Perhaps had that reality not been true, I might have endured the locust years with more resilience than I had. I'll never know.

I am sure that we were robbed of a foundation we deserved. It didn't matter how Christian we were nor how we structured our lives around those principles. You can't fight a battle if you don't know the enemy territory your foe inhabits. So, we were, in many ways, like Don Quixote slashing at imaginary foes dressed as windmills. It's no wonder that the 2^nd tidal wave that hit our lives left us shattered and unable to connect. It's no wonder that I began to ask myself who I really wanted to be when I grew up. Is it any wonder that I began to doubt my commitment to the good God whose cheerleader I had always delighted in being? Or rather, I began to doubt his commitment to me.

Does the God of the wind and waves have a good plan to repair the damage that was done to us before I even knew we existed? I hope so because I am trying to write my way back to him. Unexpectedly just this week, my eyes strayed over to that forbidden corner of our family room – my bookcase. For the 1^st time in over 3 years, I have been able to run my fingers along the spines. Wonder of wonders! I discovered a book by Elizabeth George along with companion study text that I have never opened. I must have purchased it just before I broke my leg. I picked it up and leafed thru the pages. Not quite ready to embrace it yet but able to envision doing so. I'm writing my way back to God. Maybe I've made some progress? 

 

Oh...there you are! I've been looking for you! What took you so long? Welcome home, fraidy cat. I'm so glad you are here. If you are looking for a dose of sanctimony, you've stopped at the wrong place. This corner of cyberspace is for hurting hearts who've lost their way. In this safe place, we have more questions than answers. We've learned it's ok not to offer the knee-jerk, well rehearsed answers that we've been fed since kindergarten Sunday School class. We know it is ok to wordlessly fall into step while you walk thru the sense of loss and mourning that you feel. Won't you come back again and bring a friend? Love you long and strong. 

Isaiah 54:4
Do not fear, for you will not be ashamed; Neither be disgraced, for you will not be put to shame; For you will forget the shame of your youth, And will not remember the reproach of your widowhood anymore.