I don't know how I walked or even stood straight. My body felt strangely detached. floating. Brenda, in her usual firm way, stepped in quickly. Celia beside her.
"You are?"
"I'm Brenda Taylor, and this is my sister. April," she said, nodding at me. "Mrs. Maxwell found my mother, and this is my close friend." she added. indicating Celia.
"Your mother took a considerable number of sleeping pills," he began. "As soon as she was brought in, we inserted an endotracheal tube and began to pump her stomach, but too much time had gone by. I'm afraid." he said with as much emotion as someone saying one of the lights in the hallway had blown out. Because of that, none of us really reacted. We stared at him in expectation of another sentence. He looked at all of us and then asked. "Was there a history of attempted suicide?"
"No," Brenda replied.
"I'm sorry." he said, finally showing some human emotion, if only in an automated form. "We did all we could. She expired about twenty minutes ago."
"Like a parking meter?" Brenda retorted. Celia moved closer to her instantly and took her arm. She knew how she would be. "So, what's the fine?"
"Excuse me?" the doctor said.
"Are you saving Mrs. Taylor has died?" Celia asked him.
"Yes, I am. I'm sorry." he said. He actually looked a bit frightened and shifted his weight, "I can have one of the hospital counselors here
immediately," he added, looking toward the doorway.
"Where is she?" Brenda demanded. "Where's my mother?"
"She's still in room three," he replied obediently. "There's so much happening at the moment, we're terribly behind. and..."
Brenda pivoted and then. with Celia hanging on, marched out of the room. I looked at the doctor and then at Mrs. Maxwell, who was crying openly now. Then I followed Brenda and Celia out and down the hallway to room three. where Mama lay on a gurney, her eyes closed. There was still enough color in her face for her to look as if she were just sleeping.
He made a mistake, I thought. They've all made a terrible error. Mama's just asleep. She'll wake up any moment and wonder were she is and how she got here. We'll all laugh about it.
Brenda stood looking down at her and then slowly raised her hand and put it gently on Mama's forehead, as if she were checking for a fever. Celia stood beside her, her head down.
"Mama?" I said. It came out of me like a burp. I didn't even think to say it.
Celia moved to put her arm around my shoulders, and we three stood there silently gazing at my mother, who had drifted off and out of this life, away from the sadness and disappointment, out of the reach of Bad Luck forever, perhaps in hopes of meeting Daddy in a place where he was no longer Mr. Hyde, where he was young and handsome and happy. The two of them would be as they were, and death would be defeated. At the moment. I could think only of joining her. How easy she had made it seem.
Brenda leaned in and kissed Mama's check. She said. 'Goodbye, Mama. Sleep in peace."
And then, that body of mine that had been going from soft mush to hard numb muscle returned to mush, and my legs gave way. In fact. I felt as if my torso were sinking through them. I sat on the floor before I went dark.
I woke up in another examination room. A nurse was standing over me, checking my blood pressure and pulse. She smiled at me when my eyes opened, then turned and nodded at Brenda.
"She'll be fine," she said.
I'll be fine? You mean, because I have blood pressure and a pulse, I'll be fine? My whole life will be perfect now? My mother died. I fainted and woke up, and that's it? I'm .fine?
Brenda read my thoughts and didn't smile or even thank the nurse.
"We've got to go home now. April." she said. "There are things to do. I want to see if I can reach Uncle Palaver. too. C'mon," she urged, helping me sit up.
The room spun and then settled down. I stepped off the gurney, and Celia rushed to take my other arm.
"Let s just get out of here as fast as we can," Brenda told her.
It was as though we were making some sort of escape, escape from the reality of Mama's expiring as the doctor had said, escape from the eyes and the looks of all the medical personnel who knew what terrible thing had occurred. People in the waiting room looked up at us. thinking I was the one who had been brought to the emergency room.
"Where's Mrs. Maxwell?" I asked.
"She had her husband come get her," Brenda said. "She said she'll be at our house later."
"How long was I unconscious?"
"Not long." Celia said.
"Mama died?" I asked. I had to hear it again, to hear it from them. to know it wasn't just a nightmare and there was absolutely no mistake.
"Yes, April," Brenda said. "Mama died."
They put me in the rear seat. and I lay back. Celia drove, and Brenda sat up front just staring at the dashboard.
"Are you all right?" Celia asked.
Brenda nodded. "Let's go home." she said.
We drove off. and I thought. Oh no, oh no, we're going home and Mama won't be there. We can't leave her behind. It put a panic in me.
"We can't leave Mama back there!" I cried.
"She won't be there long," Brenda said. "We'll follow the directions Daddy left long ago for what to do in the event of their deaths. My father was Mr. Efficiency," she told Celia.
"Sometimes, especially at times like this, you can't help but be grateful for that."
"No," Brenda said. "I don't agree. I'd rather muddle through it all, suffer through every step."
"Like pounding nails into yourself? Who's blaming herself now, Brenda?"
Brenda was quiet. Then she turned away and looked out the side window. "I knew it last night," she said.
"How?"
"When April told me she had called her Mrs. Panda. I knew it was coming, but I didn't do anything. I should have gotten into the car and driven home, but all I could think about was that damn game and our victory."
"Brenda, you're not making sense."
"I am." She turned and looked back at me. "You know I am." I looked down.
"Go on, say it. April. Say it!" she screamed. I starred to cry.
"Brenda, please don't do this." Celia said.
She looked at Celia and then turned around. "You're right. It's stupid to have regrets. You play your best, and that's the end of it. Home team loses, period, end of sentence."
For the rest of the way, we drove home in silence.
I went to my room immediately to lie down. Brenda started to make calls from Daddy's office. and Celia fixed something for us all to eat. Every once in a while, even though I was lying quietly. I felt my heart begin to race as though the reality came into my body in jolts and traveled with electric speed through my veins and bones until it reached my heart.
I heard the phone ringing. A few minutes later, it rang again.
Celia came to my door. "Come have some tea or coffee and a sandwich or something. April."
"I'm not hungry."
"I know, but you should eat. anyway. You need to keep up your strength. You don't want to faint again, and there's a great deal left to do."
I thought about that. It was just starting to sink into my brain, which was probably like quicksand by now. What sank in wasn't just the reality of Mama being one but also the questions that came along with it.
What would happen to me? Where would I go? What would happen to Brenda's college career and her athletic career? Who would take care of us
financially? Was all that still in place?
Was it selfish to wonder about these things? A part of me thought so and kept me from bringing any of it up when I went out and joined them in the dining room. Brenda sat sipping coffee and nibbling on a scoop of tuna salad and some crackers. I looked at my plate and sank into my seat. Celia brought in some ice water in a pitcher and her own plate.
"Were you able to locate your uncle?" she asked Brenda.
I looked up with expectation. Yes. Uncle Palaver, How we needed him now.
"
My mother had his itinerary on the desk. He's in a place called Beaumont. Texas. Someone from the theater went to his mobile home and got him to call me." She looked at me. "You know what he said when I told him what had happened?"
I shook my head.
"He said Destiny predicted it. He said she has clairvoyant powers. Can you imagine?" she asked Celia. "Talking about things like that at this time?"
"He was just in shock. People say strange things," Celia said. "I guess."
"Is he coming here?" I asked.
"He's on his way. He has to make connections through Dallas. He called back to say he would be in Memphis early in the morning and would rent a car. He should be here before eight."
She toyed with her tuna a moment and then rose.
"I've got to call the funeral home and the minister," she said, but the phone rang before she could return to the office, and it was the minister. Reverend Hastings, who had already heard. Apparently, all the clergy had a direct line to the hospital emergency room and the morgue. I listened vaguely, still dazed. as Brenda discussed the arrangements.
Celia listened, too, but with that soft, small smile on her lips. "She's so strong," she said shaking her head and looking toward the kitchen. "Like a thick tree trunk in the wind. unmovable. But later." she added, turning back to me. later..."
Later what? I wondered. but I didn't ask. I could only imagine what that meant. Brenda would break down and cry on her shoulder? Or rant and rave and need to be calmed? Would she be more like me and maybe faint?
I rose and walked down the hallway to Mama's bedroom. Her bed was still unmade, of course, and the pillow still had the impression of her head. I went to the bed and sat and stared at the pillow. I saw a strand of her hair and carefully plucked it off the pillow, holding it in my hands. It was a part of Mama. Her DNA was in this, her physical identity. I wrapped it around my finger and kissed it.
Brenda came to the doorway. She didn't ask me what I was doing or why I was in there.
"Celia and I are going to the funeral parlor. April. We have to choose a coffin."
"I should go. too." I said. standing.
"It's not necessary. I think it would be better for you to rest."
Ceila's going, I thought. Why is that necessary and not my going? Brenda hadn't even hugged me yet. She hadn't cried with me or held my hand. If anything, at this moment, she reminded me of Daddy when he had become Mr. Hyde.
"I could go," I said through trembling lips.
"It's very unpleasant. April. I can't take doing this and caring for you at the same time," she replied, almost snapping at me. "Just stay here and, if you want, answer the phone. As people find out, they'll be calling. The funeral will be on Tuesday at ten A.M. at the church. We're not going to entertain anyone after the internment. I'll announce some charity or something where people can make donations in Mama's memory. Probably the cancer society, where we had them donate for Daddy's memory. We'll be home as soon as we're finished.'" she concluded, and left.
I heard them walk out the front door. They closed it softly, but to me, it sounded Eke a gunshot echoing through the house. Being alone was never frightening to me. but I felt myself sink into a panic. Death. Bad Luck, all of it had been and was probably still in the house. It gave me the chills to think about it. My teeth actually clicked. I hurried out of Mama's bedroom, went to my own, and crawled under the covers. I wanted to pull them over my head. Sleep, at least, was an escape. The phone rang often. but I didn't answer it. I was drifting, and even though I heard it, the ringing sounded way off in the distance, easy to ignore.
I did hear Brenda and Celia return. Brenda didn't stop to talk to me. I heard her go directly to her bedroom and close the door. A few moments later. Celia did stop to look in on me. I opened my eyes.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"No," I said in a small voice, and closed my eyes.
I heard Brenda's door open and close again, and then all was quiet. The phone rang and rang a number of times after that. It grew very dark, and finally. Brenda and Celia emerged and began putting on lights and preparing dinner. Celia came back to my room to tell me I should get up, maybe take a shower, and come to dinner. The minister was going to visit us in about an hour. and Brenda expected he might have something to eat with us as well. Shortly after that. Mrs. Maxwell arrived with a pot of her homemade stew and an apple pie. She had been working on food since she had returned from the hospital. She sat with us for a while and was there when the minister arrived.
Brenda listened to him talk to us about God's will, the end of Mama's painful journey, the blessings she had provided for us, the need for us to be strong. She was staring at him with such indifference she made me nervous. It was finally Celia who carried on some conversation. He didn't eat much with us: he discussed the arrangements again, and left. Brenda was unusually quiet. I thought. Her silence frightened me because she looked as if she were holding an explosion under a lid within herself.
"I'm going to bed," she announced, and left us.
"It's all really first hitting her," Celia explained. "She'll be better in the morning."
I helped her clean up. Every once in a while. I found myself looking for Mama, expecting her to appear in a doorway, or expecting to hear her voice. Celia talked about her own mother's death and how she had dealt with it.
"I wasn't in a situation much unlike your own," she told me. "It's impossible to make any sense of it at the time. Even now. when I think back. I find it hard to believe. Don't worry," she said, putting her arm around me. "We'll be here for you. We'll always be here for you,"
How could that be? I wondered. They were college students. What would Brenda do? Where would I go? I couldn't live alone here in the house. Again. I felt terribly selfish for even having these thoughts at this time. My mind should be only on poor Mama and not myself. Feeling exhausted again. I excused myself and went to bed.
I didn't think I'd be able to do it, but my body fooled me. and I fell into a very deep and long sleep, not waking up again until I heard the doorbell ringing and Brenda's footsteps in the hallway. I sat up, saw it was a little past eight in the morning, and slipped my feet into my slippers. I threw on my robe and went to the door. The moment I heard Uncle Palaver's voice, I rushed out. too. He was standing in the entryway. hugging Brenda. Celia was off to the right. They were both in their robes as well.
He saw me coming and held out his right arm so that he could hold the both of us at the same time. I rushed in to hold him as well_ and the three of us stood there.
"You poor kids," he said. "What a time, what a time. I feel so bad that I wasn't here for her."
"She would have chased you out. Uncle Palaver," Brenda said, pulling away and wiping her eyes. "You know that."
He nodded and looked at me. Brenda went for his suitcase, but he insisted he'd carry it himself to the guest room. It was then that Brenda finally realized she hadn't introduced Celia.
"I've heard so much about you," she told him. "I'm so sorry our meeting each other has to be under these circumstances."
"Yes." he said. and went to the bedroom.
Celia rushed off to start breakfast. and Brenda and I went to dress.
At breakfast. Celia recapped all the events as they had occurred. Before she was finished, the phone began to ring,
Mrs. Maxwell was bringing over more food. Our attorney called to talk with Brenda. And those women who had been Mama's friends before she had retreated from society began to call as well, all offering their condolences. The news was really spreading quickly now.
People began to arrive. Uncle Palaver was wonderful when it came to handling all that. Most everyone brought something to eat, as well as flowers and candy. Soon the house was taken over by Mrs. Maxwell and some of the other neighbors. I wandered about, accepting sympathies, listening to advice and expressions of hope, collecting kisses like someone in a church with a plate for charity.
The day seemed never to end. Whenever there was a dry spell
, an empty moment. I felt the weight of the fatigue in my body. I dozed off a few times, once in Daddy's office on his leather settee. Unbeknown to me. Celia and Brenda had sat down to have a serious conversation about me and what we would all do. They weren't troubled by feelings of guilt for doing so. as I was After everyone left the house, the four of us settled down in the living room. and Brenda began.
"I've been speaking with Mr. Weiss, our attorney, who has been in charge of our financial affairs ever since Daddy left us,' she began. "He agrees with me that we should put the house up for sale immediately. We'll sell all the furniture with it. All we need to pack are our personal things. I've already contacted the Salvation Army to come and get Mama's clothes and Daddy's as well."
I looked at Uncle Palaver, who sat staring down at the floor. He seemed so much younger and unsophisticated. It was as if the death of his sister had driven him back to being a little boy again. Brenda was the one in control, the older one, the wiser one at the moment, and that disappointed me. I had hoped and dreamed he would come flying into our home and lives with all sorts of magical ideas that would ease the burdens, the pain, and the worry.
"Mama's clothes?"
"Celia and I have talked about everything, April. and Uncle Palaver agrees with us."
"Why didn't anyone talk with me?"
"That's what we're doing now."
"I meant before."
"You weren't in any sort of condition to talk about these things. April. Don't make a big deal of it."
I pressed my lips together and sat back.
"Anyway. Celia has called a cousin of hers who owns a house in Memphis that he rents. It's fully furnished. It's in a nice neighborhood near the Memphis Country Club, an area known as the Historic District, and it's not far from a good high school. You'll have your car, so you can drive to school every day."
"I'll go to school in Memphis?"
"Of course in Memphis," she replied quickly. "Where else would I mean?"
"You mean. I'd go live with you and Celia in Memphis?"
She shook her head and looked at Celia, who smiled softly and closed her eyes and opened them. Brenda softened.
"Look, April. I'm old enough to be your guardian, legal guardian. thank goodness, or some government agency might come waltzing in here and butting in on our lives. I don't expect any of our disinterested relatives to come and offer to take you in to live with them. and I can't think of any you'd want to live with. Half of them have sent regrets, and only two cousins have indicated they'll be at the funeral tomorrow. This is the best solution. right. Uncle Palaver?'"
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