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Monday, October 15, 2012

Emma - Now What?

by Liz Zuercher


Since James died I’ve been thinking a lot about my father.  He had his whole world turned upside down, too, when Mama died so young.  I keep trying to draw comparisons between his situation and mine, to learn how to handle this mess I’m in.  But I’m having trouble seeing the similarities when it comes right down to it. 

Here’s the only thing I can see that our experiences have in common:  we lost our spouses way too early, way before we should have.  After that, there’s only a world of difference.

Daddy had Mama for eighteen years, which seems like a long time but pales in comparison with the forty-five years James and I were together.  That’s if you count from when I was fourteen and first laid eyes on him at the lake that summer.  Forty-five years together, almost forty of those as husband and wife.  A few weeks before James died we were talking about how to celebrate our fortieth wedding anniversary the following August.  James thought we should make a big deal of it, because I’d also be turning sixty a month later.

“It’s a double milestone, Emma,” James said.  “We have to do something special, something out of character for us – a grand adventure.  Let’s shake things up a little bit.”

“But I like things the way they are,” I said.  I didn’t want to shake things up.  Why would I, when I had everything I’d ever wanted?

“But don’t you think we could stand to expand our horizons?” he said.  “The kids are all grown up and on their own.  Isn’t it time for us to kick up our heels?”

“We could have a big party,” I suggested without much conviction.

“I had something else in mind,” he said with that little silly grin of his, the one he always had on Christmas morning when I was about to open my present from him.

“Uh oh,” I said. “We’re in trouble now.  What is it?”

“I think I’ll keep it a secret for a while, but promise me you won’t say no when I tell you what it is,” he said.

“Just tell me now,” I said, getting a little impatient.  The last time James orchestrated a surprise was for my fiftieth birthday and we all ended up at the Elks Lodge dancing to a polka band.  I admit it was memorable, but I was understandably nervous about letting James plan a grand adventure.

“I need to do some research first,” he said.  “When I’ve got all the details, I’ll tell you all about it.  Promise you’ll say yes, though, no matter what it is.”

“What if I hate the idea?” I said, always the cautious one.

“I promise you won’t hate it.  You have to promise you’ll say yes.”

“Okay,” I said.  “As long as it doesn’t involve a polka band.”

“Deal!” he said with one of his big deep belly laughs.  “You’ll see.  You’ll love it!”

He looked so happy that day, as full of fun and life and love as the day I first met him.  I remember thinking how lucky I was to have such a man love me and care for me and be my partner in life.

I keep replaying that conversation in my mind, and I get really angry with James for not telling me his plan that day.  Why did he have to keep it a secret?  Now I’ll never know how we would have celebrated our years together.  It’s totally irrational and maybe a little maudlin, but I would love to be able to imagine us expanding our horizons together, as he’d put it.  I feel like he cheated me of that, and it makes me damned mad.

I wonder if Daddy was ever angry with Mama after she died.  He probably didn’t have time to be angry when he had a houseful of kids to take care of.  That’s another difference between our situations, Daddy’s and mine.  He had a family to raise, a company to run, responsibilities to keep him occupied.  He had me to help with the kids.  He had Aunt Sissy and Grandma Hilda   What do I have?  A big empty house all to myself.  Nothing but empty rooms and too much time to remember when all these rooms were alive with my family.

Another thing.  As awful as it was, Daddy had two years to get used to the idea of losing Mama.  By the time she died, we were all relieved that she didn’t have to suffer any more.  That didn’t make it any less painful for Daddy, I’m sure, but he knew what was coming.  He had time to think about it and plan for it. 

I was slapped in the face with James’s death.  One minute he was there, everything like normal.  He was grabbing his water bottle from the fridge, swatting me on the behind and saying, “See ya in a bit, kiddo,” as he left for his nightly run.  I remember the kitchen screen door smacking shut as he left.  I remember thinking, why can’t he ever just close the screen door instead of letting it slam like that?  I remember being annoyed because the pork chops were drying out and the zucchini was getting soggy and he still wasn’t back yet.  In the next minute came the frantic ring of the doorbell and our neighbor, Mark, saying things I didn’t understand.  I remember short word bursts, like gunshots:  James.  Collapsed.  Paramedics.  Hospital.  Then somehow I was sitting beside a hospital bed where James lay hooked up to all sorts of equipment.  I signed away his organs with one hand while I clenched his hand with the other, as if I could keep him with me that way.  I remember Louie wrapping her arm around me and guiding me out of the hospital, driving me home and putting me to bed.  And all of a sudden I was alone.

It occurs to me that it doesn’t make sense to compare Daddy’s experience with mine.  Death is death, after all.  The circumstances might be different, but the end result is the same.  The ones left behind have to figure out how to deal with their loss, each in his own way.  Daddy made it through and so will I somehow.

One day shortly before my father died, he and I were watching one of his real life detective shows, and out of the blue he said he didn’t know what came next.  Thinking he had only lost the thread of his day’s activities, I said that dinner came next.  I went on to tell him what we were having for dinner. 

He was shaking his head as I talked and I said, “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

He said, “I know dinner’s next today, but I meant what’s the next part of my life?  Where do I go from here?”

I didn’t know what to say.  I mumbled something about how we just need to take it a day at a time and enjoy each day, find pleasure in the little things.  I knew that wasn’t what he was talking about, but I didn’t have any more answers than he had.

What does come next?  Maybe Louie’s a better one to answer that question, what with all the studying she’s done of metaphysical issues.  I don’t know what comes next, but Daddy knows now.  And Mama and James.  They all have the answer to that question now.

As for me, I still have some living to do, and I have to figure out how to do it by myself.  My “what’s next” isn’t a metaphysical question.  It’s a question for this world, this life, and it’s got me stumped.  I find myself repeating what I told Daddy – one day at a time – but it doesn’t seem like enough.  I need to shake things up. 

Today I decided to bite the bullet and go through the box of James’s stuff his secretary brought from the office a couple of weeks ago.  I came across a thick travel brochure describing cruises to Southeast Asia, the South Pacific and Australia.  In richly colored glossy photographs, happy people explored exotic sights, relaxed at sea and ate gourmet meals.  I leafed through it, only glancing at the different trips, until I came upon a page with a yellow sticky note that said, “James, this is the one I suggest.”  It was called the Grand Exploration, a 28-day cruise from Hong Kong to Sydney, Australia.  There was not a polka band in sight.

I got myself a glass of wine and curled up in James’s easy chair with the brochure.  As I studied the itinerary for the Grand Exploration, I could hear James’s voice in my head saying, “Say yes, Emma.  Promise you’ll say yes.”

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Spiritually Uplifting Spirits

(Another installment in the ongoing story of Georgie, Kate, Looey, and Emma, our four-part novel. This is a first draft.)

by Susan Matthewson

Kate, Looey, and I had been trying everything we knew for weeks to lift Emma’s spirits, but it took a spitting, furious squirrel, a pitcher of “lemonade,” and a tipsy Methodist minister to raise her out of her despair over James’s unexpected death three months ago.

Who knew that a minor domestic disaster would finally drag Emma out of her deep-seated grief and heartbreak and set her on the path to, if not total recovery, then a more measured mourning period? 

Of course, I had no idea that the day would turn out like it did when Emma called in a panic yesterday. 

I’d barely said hello before Emma interrupted.

“Oh, my God, Georgie, that squirrel that’s been residing in our attic, running up and down and wreaking havoc  finally got itself caught in the trap James put up there the day before he died. The damn thing is banging on the cage and rattling it and I’m going crazy. I’m scared to death to go up there by myself, but I can’t stand to listen to that creature one more minute. And it’s going to die if I don’t get it out of there. What should I do?”

I was so glad to hear from Emma that I didn’t at first notice the note of desperation in her voice. She’d been cocooning in her house since the funeral, refusing to go to lunch or to a movie or even for a cup of coffee. She’d quit calling like she once did once or twice a week just to chat and I was really worried that she was isolating herself way too much. Kate, Looey, and I kept trying to get her out of the house, but she’d always say she was too tired, didn’t feel well, had to wash her hair, had paperwork to do concerning James’s estate and bank accounts…a million excuses that none of us could seem to break through.

So, just hearing her voice was such a nice surprise that it took me a minute before I grasped what she was telling me.

“A squirrel, Emma, a stupid squirrel? Are you trying to tell me you are in a panic over a stupid squirrel?” I guffawed.

“Seriously, Georgie, don’t laugh,” she wailed. “James always took care of things like this. I can’t even get the ladder up to the attic opening by myself. What am I gonna do?”

“Well, you could just call the pest control people and have them come remove the darn thing,” I told her. “But hold on, Emma. On second thought, you and I can do this. This will be great for you. James is dead Emma and that is devastating and I don’t mean to minimize how awful it’s been and how hard it may be, but you’re not dead and you need to get back to living. You are an intelligent, responsible woman and James would be so disappointed if he thought you couldn’t deal with a silly squirrel. I’m coming right now. We’ll take care of this together and you will find out that you are more than capable of living your life without James and, in fact, that you need to start living your life without James right now because that’s how it is and how it’s going to be.”

As I jumped into the car, I hoped I hadn’t been too harsh with her, but I saw this as an opportunity to get Emma moving. To tell the truth I’d been somewhat marooned by lethargy and confusion myself, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do now that I was back in Troy Hill and starting over with very little money stockpiled to tide me over. The move from New York had been emotionally difficult but financially necessary, and I hadn’t been making much headway in trying to reinvent myself and a new career. I think I probably needed this squirrel as much as Emma did. I needed a project, a problem…something to do, something to solve, something to take action on, something to get me moving. 

When I got to Emma’s house, she was standing in the middle of the garage underneath the square covered opening to the attic in the garage ceiling. She’d pulled the ladder out and it was lying on the floor.

As I pulled into the driveway, she turned around to face me, tears running down her face.

“Oh, Georgie, I can’t be without James. He took care of everything like this. He was not only my heart and soul; he was my handyman, my electrical engineer, my car mechanic, my financial advisor, my psychologist, my life coach. Whatever am I going to do?”

“Right now, you’re going to become Squirrel Remover Woman and I’m going to be Squirrel Removal Woman’s helper. Come on, Emma,” I laughed, trying to jolly her out of her tears, “Get in touch with your inner squirrel. We can’t let some silly squirrel out-squirrel two of Troy Hill’s finest, if also squirreliest, citizens.”

Emma wiped away her tears and started to smile while I used a long-handled rake to push the sliding attic cover away from the opening. All had been quiet when I arrived, but as soon as the cover slid back, I could hear the cage begin to rattle and shake.

“Okay,” I said. “Emma, you go up the ladder and climb into the attic. Then I’ll come up half-way and you hand the cage down to me.”

Emma started up the ladder with me right behind her, patting her on the fanny for encouragement. She reached the top and then stuck her head through the opening. 

All of a sudden, she screamed and slid back down two rungs, kicking me in the head.

“Oh, Lord, let me down, let me down, let me out of here,” Emma screamed. I sort of fell/jumped off the ladder and grabbed to steady it as Emma scrambled down and collapsed on the floor.

“What? What is it? What’s the matter Emma?”

“Well, shit, shit, shit. James put that cage right by the opening. If you stick your head up there, that frigging squirrel is spitting and hissing and rattling the cage, and you’re nose to nose with him as soon as you poke your head up. I cannot do this.”

Emma was huddled on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, shaking like a leaf.

Just the picture of Emma nose to nose with a spitting pissed-off squirrel tickled me so that I sat down beside Emma, put my arm around her, and started laughing. I couldn’t help myself and my giggles finally began to affect Emma and she started laughing, too, while blubbering:

“That frigging squirrel is spitting, spitting something, I could feel it on my face. And he’s huge, Georgie. He’s a huge, huge squirrel. Probably as big as a raccoon. And then something flew through the top of my hair. It’s probably a bat and I’m going to get a bat tangled in my hair. Or it could be an owl, or maybe a hawk. Remember when the hawk flew down the chimney into the fireplace and James had to call the wildlife center to come get it. There’s something huge flying around up there and that squirrel in the cage is huge and the attic opening is so small that you can’t avoid coming in contact with the cage as you boost yourself up. In fact, you have to grab onto the cage to boost up because James has boxes stacked around the edges and you can’t get any leverage any other way and…”

The more Emma babbled, the more distressed she got and gradually her giggles started to turn once again into sobs.

“Stop it, Emma. I want you to call on your inner squirrel,” Georgie joked. “Now that I know what to expect, I’ll go up in the attic and hand the cage down to you. And if there’s a bird or bat up there, I’ll wrap my head up so it doesn’t get in my hair.”

I scanned the garage for something to tie over my head and spotted an old football helmet left behind by one of Emma’s sons. I put it on, grabbed a pair of work gloves on the work bench, and started up the ladder. I heard a snorting noise and turned around to see Emma doubled over in laughter.        

“What? What?” I demanded.

“Oh, my God, Georgie, you look hilarious. Like some pint-sized, red-haired transgender quarterback with all these copper-colored curls spilling out under that helmet.”

“I don’t care what I look like. I could look like Lawrence of Arabia for all I care. I just need to get this squirrel out of here. I’m going up. Get ready.”

I started up the ladder, cautious and slow. As I reached the opening, I leaned as far back as I could as I stuck my head through the opening. I caught my breath, felt my heart turn over, but I steadied myself and took a deep breath. There I was, just like Emma said, nose to nose with the most wild-eyed, spittingest, pissed-off squirrel I’d ever seen. It wasn’t as huge as a raccoon. It just looked huge since it was splayed out with all fours spread across the side of the cage.

“Jesus,” I yelled down. “He is spitting something fierce. I hope you can’t get rabies from spit. I can feel it on my face. You’re right, I have to hold on to the cage and pull myself up.

“Okay, I’m up. James has a rope tied onto the handle so I’m going to lower the cage down by the rope and you...Oh, shit!!!” I felt something brush the top of my head and could hear the flapping of wings. A breath of wind and I could feel it swoop down again and then back up.

“What? What’s happening?” yelled Emma.

“Well, yes, there is some frigging flying fucker up here. Is there a light up here? I can’t see anything but Mr. Squirrel who is now running back and forth in the cage, throwing himself against each end.”

“Yes, but I don’t know where you turn it on. James always did that. I don’t know where the switch is.”

I sighed with frustration. Oh, Emma, my lifelong friend, I love you dearly, but you have been one protected little lady with a husband who adored you and did everything he could to make you feel like a princess. And he succeeded too well. You are such a princess. I thought about the call I got from Kate two days after James’s funeral. Kate said she’d had to take Emma up to the gas station and show her how to put gas in the car because James had always kept Emma’s car gassed up and ready to go. Kate said she had to hide her dismay that Emma didn’t know how to work the gas pump because she thought that there were “attendants” to put gas in the car. Emma didn’t even know where the switch was inside the car that unlatched the gas cap cover. Kate simply couldn’t get over it that Emma had never put gas in her own car. What in the world are we going to do with her, she’d asked.

“Okay, never mind, Emma,” I sighed. “I’m probably better off not being able to see what’s flying around anyway. I’m going to ignore it. Now get ready. Here comes the cage.”

I picked the cage up by the rope and then realized that the Have-A-Heart animal trap, professionally and specifically designed to show mercy and trap pests without killing them, was four feet long while the opening to the attic was just three feet square.  I was going to have to tip the cage and send it down end first. I called down to Emma and told her to put on gloves because she was going to have to grab the cage and right it once it came out through the opening.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” I yelled.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

The rope tied onto the handle, located in the very middle of the cage, was about four feet long and as I picked the cage up, it began to tilt wildly back and forth from end to end like a teeter totter. It was an ungainly thing to deal with and I struggled to tip the end into the attic opening while the damn squirrel was now really going wild and about ready to have a heart attack. Good, I thought. You sucker. Go ahead and die. Screw this Have-A-Heart baloney. I have no mercy. Die, die, right now. It was even harder because since there was no solid floor in the attic, I was balancing on the joists so as not to step through the garage ceiling. Every time I picked the cage up, it started to tilt and swing, and then I started to waver back and forth too.

Emma had climbed half-way up the ladder so she could grab the cage as it came down.  But each time I managed to maneuver the cage to the opening and tried to tip it through, the metal flap over the end of the cage that kept the squirrel trapped started to come loose from the latch and swing open. It was so damn hot in the attic that sweat was running down my face and into my eyes, making it hard for me to see.  My shirt was stuck to my back with perspiration. All we need now, I thought, is if this damn squirrel gets out of this cage and I am damned determined that is not going to happen.

“Emma, back down. We need to revise our plan. I’m coming down.”

I lowered myself through the opening explaining that we needed twine to secure the metal flap so it couldn’t swing open.

“Otherwise,” I said, “you are going to reach up for that cage, that metal door is going to open, and that squirrel is going to jump out and splay himself across your face.”

“Oh, no, no, no….” Emma screeched and covered her face with her hands.
I eased down the ladder, pulled the football helmet off, grabbed an old advertising placard on the work bench, and started fanning myself. “Jeez, is it ever hot up there,” I grumbled.

“Oh, Georgie, you’re a mess. Your hair is soaked with sweat. Let’s just call the pest control people and let them deal with this.”

“Absolutely not, Emma,” I fired back. “We can do this. We must do this. We are going to do this. I just need a break and something cold to drink. We are not going to let James down. We’re going to show him that you are going to be just fine without him because I know wherever he is, he’s watching and cheering us on. No giving up, ever.”

“Oh, I don’t know Georgie whether we can do this, but I do know just what we need right now,” said Emma and, for the first time since James’s death, I heard a familiar note of confidence and certainty in Emma’s voice. “It’s lunchtime and that means margarita time and left-over taco salad,” Emma trilled as she headed for the kitchen.

A few minutes later we were relaxing on Emma’s back porch, sipping margaritas and eating salad. It was a beautiful summer day and Emma’s yard was in full bloom with a kaleidoscope of color—pink, red, and yellow roses, white daisies, pink and purple petunias. The bees were buzzing around the flowers and the breeze whispered softly as it feathered through the leaves of the tall oaks surrounding the yard.

I held my glass up to my cheek, felt its icy cold coolness, and watched as Emma leaned back, lazily lifted her glass, and took a sip. It was almost as if a tight screw inside Emma had loosened. Her body began to loop and soften and mold itself to the chair. She closed her eyes, sighed, and smiled, and I felt my heart clutch with relief, so happy was I to see a glimpse of the old Emma, the contented, congenial, capable Emma I’d known since first grade. Lately, every time I’d seen Emma, she was tense and stiff, clutching herself around the waist with both arms, each hand holding on to an elbow as though she had to hold herself together physically, afraid if she let go, if she unwrapped her arms, let them hang at her side, she might just come apart.

She sat up then, covered her mouth, and started laughing. “God, Georgie, won’t it be fun to tell Kate and Looey about this. Kate thinks I’m the most spoiled, helpless woman and Looey keeps telling me to put lavender under my pillow for serenity, meditate twice a day, and moon-bathe so I can absorb the spirit of the Universe. They’ll die laughing at us.”

“Well, they’ll only die laughing if we make a mess of this, so let’s get going and get that sucker out of that attic.”

“Come on, Georgie,” Emma wheedled, “let’s just have one more margarita. I’ll go get the pitcher out of the fridge. It feels so nice out here; we just need a few more minutes.”

About half-way through my second margarita, I knew I had to get moving or I’d be ready for a nap rather than squirrel removal duty.

“Okay, no more sitting around. Let’s have another go at it,” I said and pulled the football helmet back over my head. “It’s so hot up there though I need to change clothes. These jeans and long-sleeved shirt are too much. Do you have some shorts I can wear?”

Emma had taken home a box of donated clothes from church on Sunday that she had washed and ironed for the church thrift shop. There was a maternity bathing suit among the donations, so she dragged that out for me. I pulled off my clothes and slipped it on.

“Okay, let’s go.” Just then the doorbell rang.

“Now who could that be?” Emma wondered. “Just let me get the door and I’ll be right back.”

I took another sip of my margarita and relaxed back in the chair. All right, I thought, I need to channel Looey here and get the universe on my side. I closed my eyes and tried to meditate, hoping to attract some of that positive energy that Looey always said was so available if you just trusted the universe. I wanted very much to trust the universe, but I thought there was always the possibility that the universe might be in a squirrel-friendly mood today so I crossed my fingers and said a quick prayer.

“Oh, Georgie, look who’s here,” said Emma. My eyes snapped open to see Pastor Norberg standing in the doorway to the back porch.

I jumped up to greet him, forgetting that I was wearing the football helmet and the maternity swim suit until I noticed him staring at me with amazement. Emma was standing slightly behind him with a helpless look on her face, shaking her head and holding out her hands like “What was I to do?”

“Pastor Norberg just dropped by to see how I was getting on. He was out for his lunchtime walk and when he passed the house, it occurred to him to drop in and check on me. Isn’t that nice of him?” Emma asked with a broad grin.

“Oh, great,” I said as I yanked off the football helmet and gave Emma the evil eye. 

“You probably wonder why I’m dressed like this, but I assure you there is a good reason. I haven’t actually gone crazy.”

“Oh, Georgie,” he laughed, “I’ve known you ladies since you were grade schoolers and nothing either one of you do could ever surprise me. But I’d sure like to hear about it because you are a sight and I know there’s got to be a good story if you’re involved in it.”

I knew Emma didn’t want the tee-totaling pastor to know we were lounging on the back porch drinking margaritas at 1 p.m. in the afternoon, but I had to pay her back for exposing me in my outlandish get-up though I knew she really hadn’t had a choice.

“Well, have a seat, Pastor Norberg. Emma and I were just having a glass of lemonade. Why don’t you have one, too, and I’ll try to explain why I’m wearing a football helmet and a maternity swim suit. Emma, why don’t you bring another glass and I’ll pour the pastor a glass of lemonade from our pitcher here.”

Emma grimaced at me and shook her head “no,” but I’d trapped her and she knew it. 

“Sure thing,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

Emma and I regaled the pastor with the story of our morning’s exertions with the squirrel in the attic while he sipped his “lemonade.”

At one point, he broke into the conversation to say, “Emma, this is such refreshing lemonade. It just hits the spot.”

In fact, the pastor said he thought it was the best lemonade he’d ever had in his whole life and even asked for a second glass. The pitcher was still half full, so Emma poured away. Naturally, we decided the two of us might as well have another glass of lemonade, too. You know, in for a penny, in for a pound, as they say. I did at some point excuse myself for a minute to remove the maternity swim suit and change back into my jeans and shirt, but I’m a little hazy about exactly when that happened.

I do know that by the time the pastor decided he’d better finish his walk and get back to the church, the pitcher of “lemonade” was gone. The pastor had a rosy flush creeping up his complexion and he couldn’t quit complimenting Emma on the “fabulous lemonade.”

“You really must give my wife your secret,” he told Emma, “because she makes lemonade all the time, but it never tastes this good.” He tried to stand up, but stumbled and sat back down hard in the chair. He tried once more to get to his feet and this time made it as far as the door before he stumbled and caught himself. Emma and I stared at each other.

“My heavens,” he said, “I seem to be a little dizzy. Must be the heat, don’t you think?”

Emma gave me a desperate, pleading glance, and mouthed, “What can we do?”

“Hey,” I said, “you know I need a little walk myself. Why don’t Emma and I walk back with you to the church? It’ll do all of us good.”

“Great idea,” Emma chimed in. “And you know we could even take a little detour by the café a few blocks down and get a latte or a cappuccino. How about that, Pastor?”

“Why, sure,” he said, weaving a little as he grabbed on to the door. “Sounds like a really rooty-tooty-patooty idea to me.” And then he actually giggled.

I think at this point, the pastor would have agreed to anything. We could have suggested swimming to Hawaii for some coconut juice or flying to London for a cup of tea and he’d have been on board.

Emma and I positioned the pastor between us and somehow the two of us knew without saying it that we needed this to be a long, long walk even before stopping at the café for a cup of coffee. 

We figured he wasn’t going to notice so we walked around Emma’s block about five times before heading off for the café and some sobering coffee. The fifth time we passed by Emma’s house, the pastor stopped and gesturing toward Emma’s house said, “This is the prettiest house in the neighborhood and there are five of them that are exactly the same right down to the flowers in the front yard and the color of the front door. Isn’t that amazing. Five people with the exact same house. I wonder who was first?”

By the time we got him back to the church, he’d recovered his senses enough to remember the story about the squirrel and offered to send the church janitor and one of his helpers over to remove the squirrel from Emma’s attic.

“That’s so nice of you, Pastor,” Emma said. “I’d be happy to pay them for their help.”

“No need, no need,” he said, “I haven’t had so much fun in a long time. You ladies really lifted my spirits today. You just sit those two fellows down for a glass of that heavenly lemonade when they’re done and that’s all the reward they’re going to need.

Three days later Emma, Kate, Looey, and I went to lunch and spent the whole time laughing about what we came to call The Day of the Squirrel. On the way to Emma’s house, we drove by the church and out front on the church announcement board, Pastor Norberg had posted his weekly spiritual saying in big black four-inch letters: “Even a glass of lemonade can lift your spirits. So raise a cup to the Lord today and rejoice in God’s sweetness.”

I cannot describe just how hard we all laughed, but Looey, who was driving, had to pull over and stop while we hooted and hollered.

"Yessiree, girls,” I said, “and if you throw in a squirrel and a tipsy pastor, you have no idea how spiritually uplifting a glass of lemonade can be. As your cup runneth over, so shall your spirit tippeth over.”

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

In My Room

by Nancy Grossman

This piece is back story for a novel that the Tasty Sauce quatrain is writing independently and as a group. Each participant has adopted a character, and Louee is mine. Louee was born a lover of the esoteric and unusual. She’s a New Age/60’s devotee who believes that the world finally caught up with her during that period of time. It is 1964 and she is about to start college at UC Berkeley.  One of her best friends, Emma, and Emma’s finance, James have driven Louee to school.  After getting Louee her room assignment, the unsuspecting duo are roped into helping her bless her room so that the energies can be just right.

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Louee, Emma, and James walked down the hall noting room numbers and names.  “You know,” Louee said, “713 adds up to 11, and 11 is a master number. It has a very high vibration.” She beamed at Emma who beamed right back. James, on the other hand, rolled his eyes. Louee spotted this and retorted, “Numbers are very important. As a matter of fact, I think you should let me help you pick a date to make sure that everything is in alignment on the day of your wedding.”
“Hmmm. That might be a really good idea,” said Emma kindly. She looked up at James, smiling who looked back at her with his forehead furrowed.
“Don’t look at me like that. I think Louee’s idea might be fun.”
James put his arm around Emma’s neck and whispered into her ear. “You are too nice. And I mean that, too nice.”
“No I’m not. I really do think it would be fun.”
“We’re here!” exclaimed Louee pointing to the black metal numbers bolted to the door.
The two names, Louise Robinson and Judy Lucknower were carefully hand printed on yellow construction paper and affixed with masking tape.
Louee stood silently looking at the names. She closed her eyes, put her hand on her heart, took a deep breath, opened them, smiled. She put the key in the lock and turned it revealing the small room. “I’m really surprised about this,” she said pointing to the sign. They asked me what I wanted to be called, and I wrote Louee.” She took a purple marker from her purse, crossed out Louise and wrote with a flourishing hand: Louee.
              “Why don’t you legally change your name? That way they’ll have to put Louee on everything,” asked James.
              “I’m using it as a test. How I react when I see the name Louise written out gives me information about how I’m doing spiritually. I was actually okay seeing this, I didn’t feel annoyed at all.”
“Then why don’t you just leave it?”
“Because I don’t feel like a Louise, and I don’t want people to start out by calling me Louise, so I changed it.”
              “So spiritually things are groovy right now?” asked James.
              Both Emma and Louee looked at him. “Groovy?” said Emma putting her hand on James’ forehead, “I’m a little concerned; if this place is affecting James like this, then what’s it going to do to you?”
              “I will just become more of who I am! Let’s get started!”
              “No, no, no. Let’s go eat. I’m starving!”
“James,” said Louee, “I really want to do my room clearing first. I have a Snickers Bar if you want it.”
“Yes,” said James. “I want it.”
There were two tall dressers and two skinny closets in the room. The beds were bunk beds and Louee chose the top.
              “What happens if you have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night?” asked James.
              “I won’t. I sleep very soundly. Besides, it’s an energy thing. Bunk beds can be weird. My sister and I had them and when she was on top I got into her dreams, and in the morning I never felt quite right. It’s like her energy was leaking down into me. It’s easier for me to deal with energy that floats up than leaks down.”
“Oh,” said James, “of course. Where’s the Snicker’s bar.”
“Jeez, you are impatient!”
“Hungry. I’m hungry.”
              “Look, there’s a great ladder on the side at the foot of the bed, and a cute little shelf next to the top bunk. That’ll be a great place for my stones.”
She looked around “Ug! Where am I going to put my suitcases? Could you guys take the big one back home and my parents can just store it for me? I won’t need it for a while, and the little one will fit nicely under the bed.”
              “Sure.” said James.
              “Okay. Before we put anything away I want to smudge the room and set up some stones. Then we can go get dinner somewhere, maybe there’s a cafeteria opened, or we could go back to those cute shops on Campus Drive.”
              “I vote for cute shops on Campus Drive,” said James.
              “I’m okay with either, said Emma.”
              “Then cute shops it is,” said Louee.
              Louee opened up her carpet bag and pulled out an ornate box inlaid with beautiful swirls and Asian-like designs. She also pulled out a Snickers bar that she handed to James. She placed the box on one of the chests of drawers and reverently opened it. She looked down and smiled at the contents. She pulled out and deeply breathed in the scent of the three long blue smudge sticks made of dried sage leafs tied together with red string. She then took out of a gold mesh bag and lovingly handled several dozen stones of various shapes and sizes. She placed them gently on the lid of the now closed box. She had stones to enhance luck, bring clean and clear energy into the space, enhance communication and connection, and one stone for love. She had never used this stone because she had never felt that the time was right. But it was now. She could feel it. She knew that her Soul Mate was right here on the Berkeley campus. “I’m so happy to be here. It feels so good, and I love my roommate’s name Judy Lucknower. It’s like someone who has luck now. This is going to be a very important year for me. This is going to be the year when my Kundalini really begins to rise. I need to find a great yoga teacher.”
              Louee rummaged around her suitcase and found an elegant multicolored shawl with gold and silver threading throughout. She dramatically yet elegantly placed it on her shoulders. James and Emma held tight to one another’s’ hands. James was obviously having a hard time keeping his face in a neutral stance until he looked at Emma’s longing eyes. He knew she wanted to go to college. Not Berkeley, never Berkeley, but she did want to get an education. She was smart. She was probably smarter than Louee, and perhaps even smarter than he was, but she was stuck at home with her family. Without a mother, she became the mother. It was amazing to James that Emma was even willing to take this three day get-away.
              He turned to Louee who was beaming. “Bless you both for being here and being witnesses for me as I begin my new life! I love you so much!” and she spontaneously hugged them both.
Louee had always been far out and esoteric. She’d always counted on cards and stones and ancient Runes, and her own strong and sometimes wacky inner guidance to make decisions and run her life. She generally did not seem to judge others and most people saw her as Teflon. Some kids called her the Teflon goddess and they could be cruel. There were a group of kids interested in the esoteric side of life, and she participated in her share of séances, classes, and encounter groups, but she often found that these turned out to be blame sessions and opportunities to reveal and then get stuck in the negative aspects of life. She preferred to forgive and move on.
She could find something to appreciate in almost everyone. She was not blind to how she was perceived, and things did, sometimes, get to her. The people she could really be herself with were Emma, Kate, and Georgie. They were the only ones who got to hear her doubts and fears, but generally she was the one who bolstered spirits. The four girls had been friends since early elementary school. They knew, accepted, and trusted each other completely.
              Louee let go of Emma and James. “Really, thank you two for doing this with me. Three is a much more powerful number than one. I’ve got everything ready,” said Louee, and she did. The candles were lit. There were three sticks of sage, and the stones ready to be placed all over the room. She placed these things on a beautiful silver tray on the floor in the middle of the room. She then took out a small cassette tape recorder from her suitcase set it up on the dresser, and hit the start button. Chanting and flutes filled the small room with meditative music. Louee took a deep breath. This was heaven to her.
              “What do we do?” asked Emma.
              “Let’s all sit together right here on the floor with the candles in the middle. I’ll start placing the stones, but first, let us call in the spirits of light to bless us. Now James, I know you’ve never experienced one of my rituals, and you might think that it’s a little weird, but that’s okay. All I want you to do, if you can, is to keep your mind and heart open because you could have a magical, mystical, wonderful experience. And if you don’t, at least you’ll have had an interesting experience so your life won’t be just water polo and insurance!”
              “I’ll do my best,” said James. Emma smiled at him, relieved. She had never fully shared with James some of Louee’s odder quirks and obsessions with all things spiritual, and was hoping he would just be patient and understanding.
              “No, this is great. I’ll get to know the Louee my girl knows and loves,” and he put his arm around Emma.
              “James. We each have to sit apart in a triangle, each of us making one of the points.”
              “Oh, sure, that makes sense.” he said trying to be a good participant by taking his arm off of Emma’s shoulder and moving to create the third point. “Sorry.”
              “No problem. It’s all good. I’m so glad to have your love and your masculine energy here in my room.” She closed her eyes, and put her hands on her knees with her thumb and middle finger touching. James looked at Emma quizzically. She nodded that he should do it too. Her fingers were already in the pose and she was ready to close her eyes. James closed his eyes and then opened one to see what was happening.”
              Louee began. “Take in a deep breath and let out any old and stale energy from the day.” She took her own deep breath and let it out with a sigh. “Now, take in another deep breath and feel the energy in your body. Focus on your heart. Feel the blood moving through your veins. Feel the joy that is there. Oh Goddess Mother, Spirits of Light, Angels and Guides, we ask that you bless us all. Bless me, Emma, James, our friends and families who are with us in our hearts. Bless all the Souls who have inhabited this room in the past, and clear from this space any old energy making room for everything that is new and wonderful for me, Judy, and anyone else who might share this space with us on all levels. We are so grateful for your guidance and your blessings. Amen.”
She began to chant the Ohm, and Emma chanted along. James’ eyes popped open  and he closed them quickly and quietly also began to chant. After five or six times, Louee began to speak again. “Thank you angles and guardians. We embark upon this blessing with gratitude and loving.”
              Louee opened her eyes and smiled at James and Emma. Their eyes were already open.
“That was really lovely,” said Emma. I really felt the energy that time. More than I ever have before.”
“That’s fantastic Emma,” said Louee. She grabbed her hand and squeezed it as a broad smile played upon her face. I’m sad that Kate and Georgie couldn’t be here, but it’s wonderful to have you here James. I’m so happy you’re with us. Thank you for agreeing.
“My pleasure. Are we done?”
“Oh no! We’ve just started! First I place the stone and then we smudge. THEN we can go to dinner knowing that all is well.  Would you two please sit there and either out loud or inside, chant the ohm while I place the stones?”
“Sure,” said Emma enthusiastically. James looked at her. He didn’t quite know this Emma.
Louee gasped and her eyes widened. “Why don’t you sit knee to knee and hold hands. I think that would add some wonderful relationship energy into my room!”
They did as they were bidden. Louee took the pouch and carefully took the stones one at a time and placed them in a clockwise direction starting with the door. She hummed softly and had a dreamy look on her face as she chose each stone specifically for each spot. When she was done she counted the stones left. She closed her eyes, chose three from the bag, and placed them in front of the door. Her forehead wrinkled as she looked at the three stones. Out of the remaining stones, she gave one to James, one to Emma, and kept one for  herself. “These are for you to keep. I’ll tell you about them at dinner.”
“Angeles of light and life be with us now as we cleans any old, stuck energy, and strengthen the positive, loving energy that is already in this place.”
She gave them each a stick of Sage and they followed her lead, lighting the tips of the greenish blue leafs in the candles. Before long there were three glowing tips of light emanating thin streams of sage smoke. Louee stood up, joyful but solemn. Okay, just follow my lead. Say what I say. First we’ll stand in the center together, then we’ll turn our backs to each other and walk out from where we are. Take your sage stick and run it along the surfaces of the walls and furniture. Don’t touch the sage to anything, but just let the smoke touch the surfaces so that it will release from the wood and other surfaces whatever is not appropriate for the current energy of the room. Make sure you don’t step on the stones. Oh. Let’s take our shoes off and smudge them first. Like this.” She demonstrated running the smoking stick around the shoes as she held them one at a time. She then smudged an area near the wall and put her shoes there. James and Emma followed suit. James would roll his eyes and smirk whenever he caught Emma’s eyes and Louee wasn’t looking. Emma would look at him sternly as if to say, stop it, be serious. This is important to her. Shoes placed against the wall, the threesome, backs together raised their smudge sticks in the air in front of them.
“Okay, just say what I say after I say it, okay?”
“Sure,” said James.
“Okay,” said Emma.
“Holy of holies we ask for your presence here today.”
“Holy of holies we ask for your presence here today.” Louee continued, and Emma and James repeated after her.
“We thank you for loving presence and for the work you are doing through us now.”

This went on for way too long according to the look on James’ face and the tone of his voice.”
“And so be it,” declared Louee.
“And so be it,” repeated Emma and James.
“Now we move out away from each other and smudge the areas we are near. Move in a counter clockwise direction until you wind up back where you started. Take your time. Be in touch with your heart and your inner healer. Even though you two won’t be living here, you’ll still benefit from this ritual. It will help guide you when you are back home embarking upon your own next step journeys.
The three of them went around the room smudging. Louee was so involved that she didn’t notice what Emma and James were doing. James was pretending to be a ballerina and tippy toeing as if he were Tinkerbelle with a wand. Emma would sometimes see him and admonish him with a finger wagging, but it took all of her self-control not to burst out laughing, especially since when he caught her eye he also added exaggerated facial expressions.
At one point Louee, exuberant with her own process, turned to see her friends who immediately went back to serious smudging. Louee saw the quick movements and assumed that they were just enthusiastically smudging their portions and it made her smile. She took a deep breath, put her hand to her heart and kept working on her own section.
Louee started to sing her favorite Beach Boy’s song over the mystical music on her tape recorder…

There's a world where I can go 

              Emma smiled and joined in with her…”

And tell my secrets to
In my room
In my room

In this world I lock out
All my worries and my fears
In my room
In my room

Do my dreaming and my scheming lie awake and pray
Do my crying and my sighing laugh at yesterday 

              They were back where they started and Louee began to make up her own words as she turned off the cassette player.

Now it's dark but I’M WITH FRIENDS
SO I’LL NOT BE AFRAID
In my room
In my room 

I’m so glad that you are here
I never will forget
My dear friends
My dear friends.

              She embraced them both and started to cry. “I’m going to miss you guys so much. I love you so much. Thank you for being here with me.”
              Emma’s eyes started to tear up and the threesome broke up and Emma and Louee embraced “Any time you need me, you just call. I’m just a phone call away. You’re going to have a great year Louee. Enjoy yourself. Find your passion here and follow it. You’re so good at that anyway.”
              James cleared his voice. “Can we break up this little love fest. We have stinky, burning sticks in our hands. What do you want to do with these Louee other than trying to set each others’ hair on fire?” He had removed the burning sage plants from each of their hands while they were embraced one another and rocking from side to side.
              “You’re so practical, James! I’m glad you agreed to come with us!” said Louee, tears staining her face. She dried her eyes with the back of her hand. “Dinner. Let’s go find some  pizza or something.”
              “Thank God!” said James. “What do you want to do with the stones that are all over the place, especially the ones that are in front of the door.”
              “Oh, I need to leave them over night. We can move the ones out from in front of the door. We’ll put them back in front of the door when we come back.”
              “You know, since Judy isn’t coming in till tomorrow, if you want to have a chance to be alone in your room,” said Emma, “James and I can leave after dinner.”
              “No! I want you to share my space tonight. We’ll go out for a nice breakfast in morning, my treat, and then you can go home.”
“My stomach is not very happy right now; it needs to eat something,” James said pretending to be the Frankenstein monster, hands outstretched and coming for the girls!”
              “Okay, okay, we’re going!” said Louee laughing and running out of his reach. “I’ll meet you at the elevator. I just want to make sure everything is set before I leave the room,” she said. Emma and James, hand-in-hand walked down the hall toward the elevator. Louee blew out the candles, made sure the sage sticks were no longer burning and placed everything back on the tray in the middle of the room. She then raised her hands and face up toward the sky, closed her eyes and a little shudder ran through her body. With a smile on her face she said, “And it is done!” She looked joyfully around the little room obviously delighted with everything she was seeing, walked out of the room, locked the door, and joined her friends at the elevator.