“Are you able to eat?” I asked. “Can you keep anything down?”
“Popsicles,” she blurted. “But you know what would be a real treat?” she asked.
“Tell me,” I insisted.
“How about one of your famous tuna melts?”
“Heavy on the cheddar?” I asked. “Pickle juice in the tuna?”
She held up her emaciated hand and pointed her index finger at me. “Exactly like that.”
“Coming up, Mom,” I agreed. “How about we sit out on the patio too. Can you do that?”
“Can you lift a hundred pounds?” she asked.
I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “You ain’t no hundred pounds, missy,” I teased. I stood again and flexed my arms. “And besides, I’m stronger than the last time you saw me.”
“I can see that and I’m happy you’re here, son.”
“Me too, Mom. You and I are gonna have some fun. How about that?” I asked.
“I can’t wait,” she said, giggling like a schoolgirl. Yes, my darling mother was still in that battered body. We had some time left and I planned on spending as much of it with her and absorbing her passion. I could use an infusion of passion and love. That was who my mother was. Whether in this universe or any other she may eventually dwell in.
CHAPTER NINE: Mike
The days passed slowly as Mom and I rediscovered our bond. I was an only child and a bit of a momma’s boy growing up. Mom doted on her boys, as she called Dad and me, and we shared a close relationship even after I grew into a man. When my father died our relationship shifted slightly. I was almost seventeen when dad passed, basically a man, and I chose to pick up most of Dad’s household responsibilities.
Mom and I were a team as we navigated life without him. She still led the way and I supported her however I could. I felt protective of and worried about her loss and what that meant for her future. In typical fashion, she was a rock and guided us through the first year of grief. She wasn’t the kind to hide feelings and sometimes I didn’t like sharing mine, but she always pulled me out of my funk. I not only loved my mother, but I respected her as well. Deeply.
“These smell stronger this year,” I complained, holding a shriveled marigold bud in my hand and sniffing it. “Twice as bad as I remember.”
Mom was in a padded wheelchair wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets. The date was August 10thand the weather was stifling. She claimed to enjoy watching me as I puttered around the backyard and the patio, picking up duties she would normally have been doing this time of the year.
“Extra powerful on purpose,” she corrected. “When you’re inviting spirits in you need the strongest essence you can get.”
“And what about those,” I asked, pointing at her rose bushes to encourage her to keep up the banter.
She squinted her eyes, struggling to cover them with a hand as she surveyed where I was pointing. “Those are for me. I still like beautiful smelling things even if we’re summoning the dead over here.”
I decided to humor her. The fact was, I was reading her parallel universes book and some of the content was causing me to reconsider what she’s been saying for years. “Who are we summoning exactly? You know, just in case I want a vote on who we invite over.”
“I’m not joking,” she stated. “We can truly affect changes in our destiny,” she added.
I sat my clippers down and walked across the patio to position her out of the sun. “Okay, give me an example,” I said. “But hang on while I get us a popsicle.”
“Grape,” she ordered, choosing her favorite. I’d purchased the Pedialyte brand that included electrolytes and B vitamins. She hadn’t mentioned the change to the healthier brand so I figured they tasted good, plus I could make sure she stayed hydrated.
I came back from the kitchen with two opened popsicles, and handed her one. “Perfect with the sun,” she said. “I’ll call this lunch.”
“The hell you will,” I instantly responded. “We’re having a cucumber salad in a bit.”
“Wow,” she teased. “Busting out all my faves these days.”
“Hush and give me an example of changing destiny before I lose interest.”
“Okay, but don’t act all surprised and weirded out when I tell you what I’m up to.”
I pulled a patio chair closer to her, laughing at her use of the wordsweirded out. “So, you think I’m tooweirded outby your ideas, do ya?”
