Godmother Night

by Rachel Pollack

  It took all of Kate’s will to stop herself from screaming the moment she saw Melissa. Beautiful Melissa, serene Melissa. Cut, and battered, burned, and smashed, all wrapped up in wires and tubes and tape. No screaming, Kate thought. No screaming. She had work to do.

  And the first thing she needed to do was get rid of the nurse who stood watching Kate as if she’d come to steal the body. The nurse said, “You can only stay a couple of minutes, I’m afraid. If you like, you can come look again in half an hour. There’s a family waiting room at the end of the hall.”

  “Leave,” Kate said.

  “What?”

  “I need a few minutes alone with her.”

  The woman smirked. “That’s hardly possible. Perhaps you don’t understand, but this woman is in extremely critical condition. She needs twenty-four-hour monitoring.”

  “I will let you know if I need you.”

  “If you need me—” She glanced down at Kate’s black bag. “Are you a doctor? Because if you are it makes no difference. I am not leaving my patient.”

  “I’m better than a doctor.”

  The nurse rolled her eyes. “Yes, and I’m sure you’re better than God too. Nevertheless, Ms.—” She made it a question.

  “Cohen. Kate Cohen.”

  The woman’s mouth fell open. Just like in the stories. “Oh my God,” she said finally. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe it. I’m Caroline Mayberry.” Kate only looked at her. “Marsha Mayberry’s granddaughter?”

  Kate nodded. Marsha Mayberry. She was one of the first, Kate remembered. When the power—the trick—still amazed her even more than it did her clients. She said, “Ms. Mayberry—”

  “Caroline.”

  “Caroline. Please. I need to—”

  “Of course,” the nurse said. “Of course.” To Kate’s surprise the woman hugged her. “Good luck,” she said. At the door, she looked back nervously. “If anything—if you need me—”

  “I promise I’ll call you the moment anything happens.”

  Caroline Mayberry nodded. She looked about to cry as she closed the door.

  Finally, Kate thought, as she rushed over to the metal chair beside the bed. She should get right to it, she knew, find out the worst right away. But she couldn’t bear to take her eyes off Melissa. Very carefully, she took Melissa’s hand. One of the few places without even a bruise, its soft delicacy looked unreal attached to such a ruined body. Melissa stroked the palm with her fingertips. “Hi, bee stinger,” she said. “It’s me. I love you, Melissa.”

  The puffed cut eyes opened a crack. In a drugged whisper, Melissa said, “Did you bring the snakes? I think I need them.” And then the eyes closed again and the hand went limp.

  “Melissa!” Kate said. About to scream, she looked at the monitors and saw that nothing had changed. It was just the dope, she told herself. That’s all. From experience, Kate knew that an accident, with all its blood and broken pieces, could look a lot worse than it really was. So she could still allow herself to hope as she closed her eyes in preparation for the terrible moment of looking.

  She didn’t want to open her eyes ever again, but she did so only a second after closing them. “Godmother,” she said, and the absence of any resonance of hope flattened her voice.

  “Hello, Kate.” She hadn’t come as a phantom this time. Instead, she stood in her body in the small space between the wall and the head of the bed, with her hands resting on the bright steel railing. She wore a fitted jacket of lavender silk over a long flounced skirt. Like the night she’d given Kate the gift, she wore no hat, but allowed her red hair, so much finer than Kate’s, to spread across her shoulders. “I’m very sorry,” she said.

  Kate didn’t try to answer. Instead, she started yanking and dragging at the corner of the bed. If she could just turn it around quickly enough…But it was no use. Mother Night reached her in two steps and before Kate could even move the bed a few degrees out of line, her godmother had taken hold of her hand in a grip impossible to break even though Kate’s whole body shook with the effort. “That won’t help,” Mother Night said. “All you will do is tear her loose from her life support. I don’t think you want to do that.”

  “Life support?” Kate said. “What the goddamn hell is that going to do?” But even as she stood up, it occurred to her that the necessity of stopping her had moved Mother Night to the foot of the bed.

  Some smirk of satisfaction must have shown on her face because her godmother shook her head, saying, “Kate, darling Kate, do you really think it makes a difference where you position me?”

  “But you said—”

  “I gave you a way of knowing. A way to speak for me to people I service.”

  Service, Kate thought. Is that what you call it? But she only said, “You’re lying. What about Willie? What about her father? If it doesn’t make any difference, why did it work for him? Why won’t you do the same thing for her that you did for her bastard of a father?”

  “Sweet Kate—”

  “Don’t you call me that.”

  “I changed Mr. Evans because of you. Because you wanted it so desperately.”

  “And I don’t want this? I don’t want this? This is Melissa.” She took a step backward as a thought struck fire in her. “If it doesn’t work, why did you tell me not to do it again?”

  Kate’s godmother looked at her so sadly that Kate would have slapped her if she could have imagined such a thing was possible. “That wasn’t just a command. It was a warning. Did you think you could change the way something is meant to happen without pulling on the possibilities for something else? Did you think you could open a locked door without the wind slamming shut another door in return?”

  Kate shook her head. “Wait a minute. No. No, you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.” Mother Night didn’t answer. “Goddamn it! Don’t you tell me that I made this happen.” Again no answer. Kate wanted to grab her godmother and slam her back against the wall. She took a breath. No. No, no, no. She had to think, to think. Even if she could do such a thing, if she could attack Mother Night, what would it accomplish? This was about Melissa, she told herself. Melissa. Not Kate’s anger, or her fear, or the trick her godmother had played on her, all the tricks, on her and everyone Kate had loved throughout all of her life. This was about Melissa. Fight, she thought. She had to fight for Melissa in any way she possibly could.

  “Take someone else,” she said. “If someone’s door has to slam shut, slam someone else’s.”

  “I’m sorry. That is not the way it works.”

  “The way it works! You’re the way it works. If it weren’t for you, none of us would have to go through this at all. Don’t you think I know that?”

  Her godmother tried to reach out and touch her face, but Kate snapped her head away. “Poor Kate,” Mother Night said. “You think you understand it all, but you do not. Do you really believe that I invented death? Why, Kate? Why would I do that?” Now it was Kate’s turn to say nothing. Her godmother said, “The mysteries of the body, of each person’s body and the body of the world, will not give way as easily as you think. Not to me any more than to you. I have not come here to hurt you, Kate. Not you. Not ever. I only do what needs to be done. There are purposes which no one can break. No one, Kate, least of all me. And lines which no one can cut.”

  “Goddamn it, then take back Willie. Do you think I care about him? If something has to crash, why can’t you crash his plane?”

  “And all the other people on board? What about them?”

  “Then give him a heart attack. Or crash the plane and make everyone else have a miraculous escape. Let the newspapers write it up as a sad irony. Daughter recovers from crash, famous father dies on way to see her. I don’t care. I don’t care. I just want Melissa.”

  “I’m sorry. When you pushed me to spare her father you took a step that cannot be withdrawn.”

  “That’s not fair,” Kate said. “You didn’t tell me. You didn’t warn me. You’re making me pay a price I nev
er knew existed.”

  “I have no more choice in all of this than you do.”

  “Why? Why? Because the rules are the goddamn rules? Change the rules. I’m your goddaughter.”

  Mother Night shook her head. “Darling Kate. Even for you I cannot change what cannot be changed.”

  “I don’t believe you. What are these lines you can’t cut? Bloodlines? Lines between relatives? Then why does it have to be a daughter? What about a brother or a sister? And if you spared Willie by taking his daughter, why can’t you spare Melissa by taking her mother?” Mother Night didn’t answer. “Do you know what I think? I think you’re punishing me. Because I defied you. Or because I didn’t show enough appreciation. I was your pet meat and I forgot to sit up and hold out my fucking paws. You set this whole thing up just to put me in my place.”

  Suddenly angry, Mother Night took a step toward Kate, who needed all her nerve not to jump back. “Your place? Your place? I gave you a place wider than any living being walking upon this Earth. I showed you how to see, and to understand. Do you take that as worthless? Do you consider my gifts empty? You above all women should know the truth of what we do and what we cannot do.”

  “I know that I want Melissa. I know that more than I’ve ever known anything in my life. Why won’t you listen to me? How the hell else can I say it?”

  With her eyes fixed on Kate, Mother Night stretched out an arm to point a finger at Melissa. “No!” Kate shouted, and would have leaped at the arm to knock it down, except that when she looked at Melissa her lover was sleeping peacefully, with all her circle of machine mothers whispering the reports of her continued existence.

  “This woman,” Mother Night said. “She means more to you than everything I’ve given you?”

  “Yes,” Kate said immediately. And then, “Wait a minute. Is that what this is about? Jealousy? Are you…You’re so jealous of my love for Melissa—for someone else—goddamn it. I don’t believe this. You can’t just push her aside, can you? Like you did with Laurie. That won’t work anymore. You can’t lure me away with all your glorious spectacles. You can’t just keep me isolated from everyone who isn’t dead. Finally I’ve found someone who matters more to me than my magnificent godmother. And you can’t stand it. So you’re just going to take her. Just like that. Because I had the nerve to love somebody else, some weak pathetic human, more than I loved you.”

  Without moving, Mother Night said, “My motives and desires do not matter now. Nor do yours. I have asked you a question and you must answer me. Think. Words have power. Do you value Melissa more than the gifts I have given and promised you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Kate, I am not just talking about my benevolence. I swore an oath to protect you and teach you. Do you consider my promises meaningless that you would give them up so easily?”

  “There’s nothing easy about it. If you want to help me, then give me Melissa.”

  “I ask you one more time: You will choose her above everything else? Think.”

  Kate said, “I don’t need to think. I know.”

  Mother Night lowered her arm. For a long moment she simply stared at Kate, who did her best not to look away. All at once, sadness filled Kate’s godmother, driving everything else out of her body. Kate thought how she could see in Mother Night’s eyes all of the pain she must have witnessed in her incalculably long life. For just a moment, Kate wanted to get down on her knees and wrap her arms around her godmother’s waist.

  “Good,” Mother Night said. “Come with me.” She began to move toward the door.

  “What?” Kate said. “Wait a minute. I can’t leave. I’m staying here with Melissa.”

  “Oh, Kate,” Mother Night said. “Shall I take you by the hand and pull you after me? Or do you think you could resist that as well?” Feeling like a child refusing to go with Mommy, Kate folded her arms. Mother Night said, “Come. Leave the bottles of tincture and come with me.”

  The shock of hope almost knocked Kate to the floor. Leave the bottles? It was going to work. Godmother had given Melissa back to her. Without thinking, she walked over to the bed. Not sitting down, she touched the side of Melissa’s face. “Stinger?” she said. “I’ve got to go for a little bit. I’ll be back as soon as I can. And Willie and Jason should be here soon. It’s going to be all right, darling. It’s really going to be okay.” Stepping back, she watched Melissa breathe. The professional in her noticed the easier movement of the chest and she thought how already Melissa was starting to change. She turned her head to look at her godmother. “Thank you,” she said. Mother Night nodded. “Okay,” Kate said. “Let’s go.”

  When they left the room they found Caroline Mayberry nervously hovering by the door. When she saw Mother Night she shook her head in amazement. “Kate?” she said. “Ms. Cohen? Who is—I didn’t see anyone go in. I was standing right here.”

  Kate said, “Caroline Mayberry, this is Mother Night. She’s the person who saved your grandmother.”

  Caroline squinted at Mother Night, who inclined her head toward her. Looking at Kate again, Caroline said, “I don’t understand. Is she your partner?”

  Kate said, “No. Melissa Evans is my partner. Caroline, I need you to do something for me. Inside, you’ll find two brown bottles containing an herbal tincture. Ms. Evans—your patient—needs to take three drops of this tincture, three times a day, in water, for three days. Three days, three drops, three times a day. Have you got that?”

  Caroline glanced down the hall, as if afraid someone might be listening. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I don’t think—I’m not allowed to give anything unless a doctor prescribes it. Not even an aspirin.”

  Kate sighed. “Of course. Then will you do something for me? Ms. Evans’s father—William Evans—will arrive soon, along with a man named Jason Haverwell. If I don’t get back before they get here, will you make sure they get the brown bottles? If you can, give them to Jason. Do you understand?” Caroline nodded. “Good. I knew I could count on you.” Kate took a deep breath against the tears trying to take over her body.

  Once more she looked at the door to her lover’s room. It was all she could do to keep herself from running in and trying to barricade the door shut behind her. “Goodbye,” she whispered. “I really love you.”

  She and Mother Night walked down the hall.

  Four

  The Candle That Burned through the Day

  Instead of taking the elevator, Mother Night led Kate to a narrow stairway at the end of the floor. Neither of them spoke as they marched down, floor after floor. Beyond the stairwell, Kate could hear the murmur of voices, the thump of doors slamming shut, the chimes of doctors’ codes on the loudspeakers.

  At the bottom of the stairs they came to a street door. Even before Mother Night held it open for her, Kate felt a blast of heat strong enough to give a red tinge to the gray metal. And even though Kate held herself back when the door opened, the dry heat fastened itself to her chest, making it hard to breathe. “Come,” Mother Night said, holding the door for her. “It’s just candles.” Kate held back for a moment, then stepped into the sunlight.

  She found herself standing at the edge of a parking lot behind the hospital. Filled with cars and even buses, the lot seemed to go on and on, with every spot taken, as if everyone had come for visiting hours all at once. Beyond the cars on one side rose a round hill with old trees, forming a sort of small park, but everywhere else the lot continued as far as Kate could see. And everywhere, on the roofs and the hoods of the cars and buses and ambulances, on the branches of the trees, on the blacktop lanes and the sidewalks, on the dividing lines between the cars, on the reserved signs for doctors and disabled people, everywhere Kate looked she saw candles. Some burned on plates or small clay holders, others dripped their wax into glasses or directly onto the roofs of the cars. They were all sizes and colors, some long and thin, burning with a tight elegant flame, others shorter but thicker and sloppier, burning hotly and dripping lips of wax all over their bodie
s. There were candles as ephemeral as the birthday candles of little children, and others that looked strong enough to burn for weeks. At any particular moment, candles, hundreds of them, would flicker out, while at the same time others seemed to ignite all by themselves, so that in the midst of this great field of fire, individual flames appeared to leap from one place to the next.

  “Do you know what these are?” Mother Night said.

  Kate was holding her hands up in front of her face. She didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to know. She wanted to run back inside and hold Melissa in her arms. But even if she thought she could move fast enough, she knew she would find the door locked. And something else. After all this time, she discovered a pride at being Mother Night’s goddaughter. She didn’t want her godmother to think she hadn’t learned anything.

  “Yes,” she said. “I think I do. They’re lives, aren’t they? They’re people’s lives.”

  Her godmother nodded. “Each one burns for the length of somebody’s moment between birth and death. Look.” She pointed to the nearest car, a blue hatchback whose entire roof and hood was filled with candles, all of different sizes. “Do you see the short ones, already beginning to sputter out? These are the old and the sick.” Even as Kate watched, a flame in the middle of a lake of wax flickered once, twice, then vanished, leaving only a faint plume of gray smoke that dissolved into the fiery air.

  “And do you see the others?” Mother Night said. “The long bright ones? They burn for the young, who believe that their fire will go on forever. But look.” She pointed to one of the little candles, with only enough wax to burn for a few minutes. “These are the ones born in sickness. And these—” She pointed to a line on the blacktop where a whole row of candles had tipped over and spilled their wax, which had grown cold and hard. “These are the people lost in violence.”