Allison looked at Vicky then at the ivory dress her grandmother made her which lay neatly draped over the side of the hope chest. She wished Vicky could have worn it. It wasn’t the baptism her grandmother had envisioned for her, but still if she existed somewhere in the outer realms of time she had to be smiling upon this scene. Despite everything, Vicky looked pretty in the purple gown and robe that Allison got her. Her hair was not done and she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on, yet an inner radiance lit up her eyes and her skin, making her face glow with a beauty that naturally comes to the truly joyful. In that moment she was beautiful again.
Father Mudd removed the plastic lid and straw from the Styrofoam cup and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. Then with eyes closed and right hand raised, he mouthed what appeared to be a silent prayer of blessing over the cup of water. He opened his eyes and traced the sign of the cross with his right hand over the cup. He then opened a small book that read “Rites of Baptism” on the front and began the ceremony.
“Dear sister,” Father Mudd said to Vicky. “You have asked to be baptized because you wish to have eternal life. This is eternal life: to know the one, true God and Jesus Christ, whom he has sent. This is the faith of Christians. Do you acknowledge this?”
“I do,” Vicky replied.
A series of promises soon followed; first from Vicky to live the teachings of Christ and to actively learn more about those teachings upon recovering her strength. Then it came time for the godparents and witnesses to make their promises.
“You have heard Vicky’s promise,” Father Mudd continued the solemn words of the ritual, now directing his attention to Allison and Sally. “As her godparents do you promise to remind her of it and to help her to learn the teaching of Christ, to take part in the life of our community, and to bear witness as a true Christian?”
“I do,” Allison and Sally replied.
“And will the rest of you, who have witnessed this promise, assist her in fulfilling it?” Father Mudd addressed the question to Bobby, Tim, Alex, and Minnie.
The replies came back in various forms of the affirmative; a somewhat frightened but serious “yes” from Alex; a solemn “we will” in perfect unison from Bobby and Tim; and a “uh-hmm, amen, yes Jesus, praise Jesus” from the still swaying Minnie.
“How you feeling, Vicky?” Father Mudd asked softly with deepest concern. “Are you still up for that gospel reading? If you’re getting tired we can cut to the chase.”
Vicky smiled a slow fragile smile and bade Father Mudd to proceed with the gospel reading. Allison noticed she did look suddenly pale and tired, perhaps from all the visitors and all the emotion of the ceremony.
“Vicky chose this reading herself,” Father Mudd continued as he opened an old beat up bible which belonged to Minnie and read the parable of the Prodigal Son.
Prayers continued: Prayers for the godparents; for the family and friends (which Allison realized were those standing around Vicky in that very room); prayers for an increase in faith, prayers for eternal life and salvation, for forgiveness of sin, for Vicky’s restoration of health, and for unity of all the baptized. Then Vicky was asked a series of questions regarding rejection of Satan and belief in Jesus Christ. Vicky responded a solemn “I do” to each question. At last it was time.
Vicky scooted to the edge of her chair so she could bend down more easily. Alex assisted Father Mudd by holding the bedpan just under Vicky’s chin. Father Mudd then spoke the words of baptism.
“Vicky, I baptize you in the name of the Father,” the priest poured some water from the styrofoam cup over Vicky’s head as she leaned down over the bedpan. Vicky shuddered a little. It could’ve been from the coldness of the water or it could’ve been something emotional, perhaps even supernatural.
“And of the Son,” Father Mudd said pouring a little more water over her head. “And of the Holy Spirit,” were the concluding words as Father poured the remainder of the water over Vicky’s head.
Allison couldn’t see Vicky’s face because she was leaning forward and her long hair hung down, covering it, but it seemed in that moment that Vicky’s body posture had assumed more than just a forward lean to facilitate the pouring of water over her head. It had become a bow of reverence and Allison felt sure that if she could have seen her face at that moment it would have shone.
Alex handed Father Mudd a towel he had draped over his arm and he began to blot Vicky’s damp hair with it. She sat up and all could see she was smiling as tears streamed down her face. She took the towel which Father Mudd had placed over her shoulders used it to wipe her damp face. “This is what I call a dish towel crying jag,” Vicky said. “Though I’ve never had one from tears of joy before.”
Father Mudd placed his hand on her shoulder and asked, “Are you all right?”
Vicky nodded in response and a chuckle of shared happiness and release rippled through the small band of witnesses as little Minnie continued swaying proclaiming, “Amen. Praise you Lord Jesus. Thank you Jesus.”
“God our Father has freed you from your sins, has given you a new birth and made you his daughter in Christ. Soon, God willing, you will receive the fullness of the Holy Spirit through confirmation and will approach the altar of God to share the food of life at the table of his sacrifice. In his spirit of that adoption which you have received today, join us now in praying as our Lord himself taught us.” Father Mudd spoke the concluding words of the ceremony then all gathered joined hands and said the Lord’s Prayer together.
*****
It was one of those warm days that mercifully got inserted somehow at the end of January, reminding all winter sufferers that spring would eventually come. The sunshine was such a relief from the dreary grey days preceding it; days not cold enough for snow, just cold rain and occasional sleet, enough to send a damp chill into one’s bones. Allison was more vulnerable to the cold and the grey sunless sky than she used to be; so this sudden burst of warmth and sunshine which allowed her to get out her sunglasses and toss her coat on the passengers seat (without having to put the loathsome thing on) was a delight more welcome than an unexpected check in the mail. And she really didn’t care if global warming was the cause of it all. It was good to be alive today and she was thankful; thankful for so many things that were clearer, less obscured on a day like today. Even the irritating and distracting could be seen as gifts; for life viewed in the possibility of their absence seemed colorless and bleak. She thought of her renewed friendship with Vicky, sometimes both irritating and distracting, but mostly a gift that had caused her to toss the downside of it all joyfully aside, like the heavy winter coat on the seat next to her.
“What a gift! What a gift!” She said the words out loud and smiled like a half-crazed lunatic. “Gift! Where’s Vicky’s gift?” she asked herself, knowing it must be on the seat next to her, buried beneath her winter coat. She threw the coat off the seat onto the floor and there was Vicky’s birthday gift wrapped in sapphire blue foil paper with a silver bow bound about it, and Allison had to laugh at her own silly fragile self that had to check everything twice, that had to be in control.
She pulled close to the curb and parked in front of the half-way house where Vicky now lived. It was a dilapidated old frame structure, badly in need of repair and a fresh coat of paint. As she walked toward the house she noticed several layers of shingles missing from the roof, perhaps from some previous storm damage, and she wondered how long it had been that way.
Vicky greeted Allison in the foyer with a hug.
“Happy birthday,” Allison said presenting her with the gift.
“I can’t believe you remembered the date after all these years,” Vicky said, overcome with surprise and joy.
“So I got it right?” asked Allison.
“Right on the dot. You gotta quit this girl. Well, at least you don’t get to walk away empty handed today. I finally finished your Christmas present. A month late but you know me. I always was late at everything, including growing up. Thank you,” she
said with another hug. “I’m gonna wait to open it ‘til we get upstairs to my room. That-a-way I can give you your gift too. But first I’m gonna give you the grand tour.
“This is it, Allie. Chrysalis half-way house for women,” Vicky said as they walked through the foyer and entered the old living room which now served as a Common Room, and was currently buzzing with life. “We’re half-way home, aren’t we girls!” Vicky said to some of the women who occupied the room, smoking cigarettes, folding laundry, watching television, working on a jigsaw puzzle. They all responded to Vicky with small gestures of camaraderie which signified a common bond.
Vicky introduced Allison to several of the residents. Everyone she encountered wore layered clothing to stave off the perpetual chill which resulted from poor insulation. It seemed colder in here than outside and Allison suddenly wished she had her winter coat with her. Vicky continued her tour of the downstairs. The place was kept clean and tidy enough, still everywhere were signs of deterioration. The kitchen walls were stained with what appeared to be water damage. Allison’s mind immediately went to work, organizing a board and fund-raisers though she said nothing about this internal scheming to Vicky. She just followed her from room to room… thinking.
“I know it ain’t exactly Camelot, or at least Camelot in its hey-day, but it’s our castle for now. Right girls!” Vicky said as they passed again through the Common Room.
“Some castle! We need a new flippin’ moat!” said one of the residents with a throaty chuckle.
“And I’ll bet you’re queen of the castle,” Allison said to Vicky.
“Naw, I don’t want to be queen anymore. Just let me be one of them little pages that gets to carry the king’s train and I’ll be satisfied. As long as I’m well enough to help out that’s all that matters. I tell you, Allison, I’m so grateful for my recovery, my health. I almost feel human again.”
“You’re amazing Vicky!”
“It ain’t just me; we’re all amazing. Look how everything was designed to work, the human body and all. I been reading up on medical conditions and stuff, you know ‘cause of my liver and all. Did you know the human body has this miraculous ability to heal itself, even from serious illness. Of course a lot of it has to do with your attitude.”
“I believe that. Who knows, you might not need that new liver after all. The old one might just be repairing itself.”
“I don’t know about that. The doctor’s warned me not to get too over confident, you know, take it easy. ‘Course I was never one for that. I’m trying to learn though.”
“I bet some of those doctors are eating their words now. Remember when they discharged you from the hospital, how that doctor and social worker were recommending you get on disability and move in with Bobby.”
“Yeah, and they said if I got too sick for Bobby to take care of they’d have to stick me in an institution. That made me wanna get better fast!”
“Look at you! You’re proving them all wrong,” Allison said remembering how sorrowful she felt upon Vicky’s discharge when the social worker proclaimed that under close medical supervision, Chrysalis half-way house would be a way-station only until they could assess where to go from there. “They said this place would be your way-station and indeed it is; your way-station to a new and better life. Not the life of an invalid.”
“I believe that with all my heart,” Vicky said somewhat reflectively.
“C’mon, let me show you my room,” she said with a sudden shift of mood as she motioned toward the stairs.
They made their way up the creaking old staircase which sounded as if it might crumble under their feet. When they reached the top, Allison noticed Vicky was terribly winded. She figured that was to be expected with all the years of smoking and abuse to the body.
Once upstairs Vicky opened the door to a small room; just large enough for the two neatly made twin beds, the small night stand separating them, and the chest of drawers in the corner. “I got a roommate but she’s not here right now. She just got a job so we’re all real happy for her. She’ll be moving on soon.”
“And so will you,” Allison said.
“Yep, so will I. Have a seat,” Vicky said, motioning to the corner of the bed. Allison sat down and Vicky sat down next to her.
“Last time we talked you mentioned you were looking for something part-time so you could start back to school. Is that still the plan?” Allison asked.
“It’s still my plan,” Vicky said.
“You seem unsure,” Allison said in response to Vicky’s cryptic statement.
“No, not unsure, just…open I guess. In case my Higher Power has something else planned for me.”
“Like what?” Allison asked.
“I don’t know,” was all Vicky said with a nonchalant shrug and a faraway look. There was a moment of silence. Away from the hub-bub of activity on the main floor and all the distractions, Allison could see that Vicky was tired. Perhaps it was just Vicky’s way, to hide it from all the others, but here alone in her room with her defenses down, it showed readily.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, just kinda battle weary I guess. Over two months clean and sober and in some ways I never felt better, but in other ways I feel lousy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. It’s like I’m aware of how I feel, both the good and the bad, and I just ain’t used to dealing with the bad parts. Does that make any sense?”
“It makes perfect sense.”
“Like I still wanna drink. I still got this restless feeling, like I gotta grab hold of something to fix it. Then I realize it’s a drink I want and I realize I can’t go back there, or should I say I won’t go back there, and I just feel sad. Sad and tired. Then I get to thinking about something else maybe, like a man or a big piece of chocolate cake, maybe the whole darn cake, and I think, no, that ain’t it either. Then I think what if I just sat here with nothin’; nothin’ at all but this empty ache inside my gut that’s always been there. And then I realize that’s the solution. That’s the answer to the problem right there. Because that’s where I find him–my Higher Power. That’s where God is–at the bottom of that empty ache. And I’m not afraid no more, I mean any more, because I’m not alone. He’s walking me through it, just for today. Just for today. Like they say in the program, ‘This too shall pass’.”
“Wow! No wonder you’re so tired. That’s a lot to think about.”
“Yeah, this new way of living is such a change for me. I guess that’s why I’m so tired.
“Let’s open our presents,” Vicky said with a sudden change of focus. She quickly hopped up from the bed and in one swift movement grabbed a gift bag off the chest of drawers. “You have to open yours first seein’ as how it’s a Christmas present and should have been delivered to you a month ago.”
Out of the bag Allison pulled the knit scarf Vicky had begun so long ago when her grandmother taught her to knit; the very one that sat in the hope chest for so long. It was a bright splash of Vicky’s favorite autumn colors; gold and burgundy, orange, and brown. Upon examining it Allison discovered it was completed to perfection. She could scarcely tell where she had left off so many years ago and started up again. The card read “I hope this gift brings you warmth and joy and reminds you of me. I know how you hate the cold.”
“It’s beautiful, Vicky. And you made it with your own hands. Thank you.” Allison said taking a hold of Vicky’s hands and squeezing them as a gesture of friendship. They were icy cold.
“Yeah, wouldn’t you know it would warm up on the day I give it to you.”
“Might be too warm to wear it outside but it’s sure not in here,” Allison said securing the scarf around her neck.
“Guess you noticed it’s a little chilly around this place. I think they used toilet paper for insulation.”
“Even you’re cold,” Allison said, squeezing Vicky’s cold hand again. “When that happens, you know it’s cold.”
“For sure.”
“Okay, so
now it’s your turn,” Allison said handing Vicky her gift. “I’ll give you a little hint; my gift is also hand made but not by me, which is lucky for you since I have absolutely no artistic ability whatsoever.”
“You got my curiosity up,” Vicky said shaking the gift as she held it to her ear.
“Careful, don’t shake it too hard.”
“Must be somethin’ fragile.”
“Go ahead, open it.”
Vicky opened the gift the way she opened all her presents–like a kid on Christmas morning, never carefully undoing the taped corners like how Allison did, like how most of the refined adults Allison knew did. She ripped away without order or reason in her excited anticipation, until at last she freed the prize from its paper prison. She pulled a colorful stained glass cross from the debris of wrapping paper and held it up to the light with a gasp. “Wow, this is so cool! Where did you get it?”
“Right here in Lamasco– Gott’s Stained Glass. One of Lamasco’s oldest businesses. You know, you’ve seen the place I’m sure.”
“The one by the river front.”
“That’s the one.”
“It must’ve cost you a fortune.”
“Not too bad. I got connections. Or should I say Sally has connections.
“That Sally!”
“I didn’t know if you could hang anything on your walls here, but when you mentioned you had a window in your room I thought ‘a-ha’. See, it’s got this little suction thingy on the back. You can stick it on your window.”
“Cool,” Vicky said rising from the bed with just enough strain and effort to make her labored breathing more noticeable.
“Are you okay?” Allison asked.
“Fine,” Vicky said dismissively but Allison noticed she was terribly pale. She walked over to the small window that looked out over the dilapidated downtown neighborhood with its run-down, old buildings and signs of deterioration all around. “I just need your keen eye here,” Vicky said placing the stained glass cross towards the top center of the window. Allison directed her until it was perfectly centered and even. She helped Vicky affix the plastic suction cup to the glass window. When they were finished they stood back and marveled at this splash of color which so overshadowed the dismal grey landscape of neglect and despair just outside that window.
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