The Universe is a Very Big Place (28 page)

BOOK: The Universe is a Very Big Place
3.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

 

Spring, come home! Emergency!

Sam was texting her on the cell phone. Sam never texted her, stating that impersonal electronic communications was barbaric and uncivilized, and his message worried and annoyed her all at once. She was already late to work and she briefly debated whether or not she should call him. As she sat at the stop sign on her way to work, she spun her car in the opposite direction and dialed.
 

"What’s wrong?" she said.

"Your mother’s crazy, that’s what’s wrong! She keeps screaming about putting a curse on the neighbor. I would stay but I have to meet with Grandma Rosemary’s lawyer today."
 

Spring put her foot on the gas and was home within the minute. Lanie hadn’t put an actual curse on anyone in years and something must have really rattled her to make her want to do it. As she pulled into the driveway she witnessed Lanie running around in the front yard, still in her pajamas, pointing to the purple house next door.

"Mother, what’s wrong?" Spring asked, trying to catch Lanie’s attention as she darted hysterically about the yard.

"That witch is trying to take your kids!" Lanie bounced emphatically. "She can’t have hers so she wants yours!"

"What? What are you talking about?" Spring lowered her voice in an effort to calm her mother down. "No one’s going to take Blaine and Shane, Mom. Understand?"

"I’ll put a curse on you so big it will make Armageddon look like a trip to SeaWorld!" Lanie hollered to the house next door, then turned her attention back towards Spring. "The She-Bitch wrote the state and said you were an unfit parent, living in a sinful household. The state worker was here earlier. I saw the letter! Who else do you think would do that?"

Spring considered the boy’s teacher, Ms. Droll, and even Jason.

"I’m not the most popular woman in the world, Mom. It could have been someone else. Let me talk to her okay? Before you do something you may regret."
 

Lanie nodded, a nod that was out of breath and labored, and Spring wanted to hug her mother. She was crazy but at least she cared. Spring strode towards the neighbor’s house and knocked carefully on the door, not believing that anyone would answer. But after just a few low taps the door swung open and Mistress Zara spread her arms out to greet her.

"Come in."

Spring was not sure what to expect inside, but she guessed it would resemble the sock motif in the front yard. Instead, the home was neat, clean, and simple. Except that there were pictures of a little boy––the same little boy––everywhere Spring looked. Many times, even the same picture. A blue-eyed, tow-headed, angelic child, a few years older than her own twins. Spring guessed it was Zara’s son who had been killed in a car accident.

"Mistress Zara," Spring began, hesitantly. "Did you write Child Protective Services and tell them I was an unfit parent? My mom thinks you did. And if you did, can you tell me why?" Spring looked around the room, the blue eyes of the child watching her every move. It unnerved her. Mistress Zara said nothing. A familiar-looking black cat hopped on Zara’s lap and purred contentedly as she stroked it. Spring tried one more time.

"I know I’m not conventional. But I do try and do what’s right for my kids. They have food. They have a roof. They have some stability. I just wanted to show you for myself that I’m normal. Kind of. And I love them."

Again, there was only silence and the purring of the cat. Spring realized that Zara was not the writer of the letter. The lady could barely communicate. Spring stood up and nodded an apologetic farewell as she made her way to the door.

"I didn’t write the letter." Zara spoke, scarcely more audible than the purring cat, as Spring’s hand slid over the doorknob. "I know what it’s like to lose a child. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, even your crazy mother. Tell her that."
 

Spring met Zara’s eyes and noticed they had changed. The cataracts that had seemed to cloud and block them had moved aside for a moment. Spring could see the violet beauty of her eyes and witnessed for a moment the woman she must have been years ago, before some reckless driver took her son. Spring nodded, an understanding from mother to mother. Mistress Zara, in that moment, could possibly be the sanest person Spring knew.

"He was beautiful," she said, scanning the pictures on the shelf nearest her. "You were lucky to have him in your life."

"I still am," said Zara. "He comes by every night and we play Parcheesi."

 

 

"It was her, wasn’t it?" Lanie asked, fanning herself by the pillar that held the front porch up. She had her T-shirt tied up in a knot near her breasts, exposing her abdomen, and sweat trickled down every available inch of her belly.

"No, Mom. But I think you two could actually be friends if you gave her a chance."
 

Lanie snorted, uninterested, and Spring got back into her car.
 

"Oh, by the way. I think I know the whereabouts of Bob’s cat. I don’t think she’s ready to come home anytime soon, though."
 

Lanie glared at Zara’s purple house as Spring drove away.

 

 

When Lanie had finally calmed down after what Spring called her 'episode,' she stretched out on the sofa, flipping through the channels until she found
The Young and The Restless.
She marveled at the way the actors stayed the same age, decade after decade. No Egyptian Pharaoh had been so well preserved.

When she had called Bob to tell him about the whereabouts of his cat, he had been very upset. She could hear the little man wheezing through the receiver and she did her best to comfort him. What he needed, she had told him, was a new pet. Something smart and obedient, that couldn’t leap fences to look for greener pastures. Perhaps a pot-bellied pig.
 

He was averse to the idea at first, but when she explained to him her End of Days theory, he, being a practical man, saw her logic. That warmed her heart. She was beginning to grow very, very fond of him.

Lanie tried to watch her soap but it was annoying. The plotline had not changed at all since she had last watched it, well over a decade ago. She turned down the volume and went for her tarot deck. She had a tickle in her throat. Despite her good fortune with Bob and the pig, there were still problems. Spring was an emotional wreck. Someone was trying to take away the twins. And Sam was one shell shy of the nut farm. Lanie shuffled the deck, said a quick prayer to the Universe, and pulled out a card. A real witch only needed one.

A young woman sat shackled at the feet of a terrible horned monster. The woman had the key to her chains but refused to use it. The Devil card.

Lanie scratched her head and asked her spirit guides for advice. But they were unusually silent today.

 

 

Spring drove this time with Sarah in the passenger seat, carefully stitching away at the tattered Casey costume. "Wonder if Betsy Ross looked as intent as you do?" Spring teased.

"If Betsy could sew condoms, the whole history of our country might have been changed," Sarah answered thoughtfully, sucking on her finger where the needle had pricked her.

"I think I’m going to run away," said Spring, rolling through the backstreets of Phoenix. The little gas tank on her dashboard blinked red indicating that she would soon be out of fuel. She ignored it.

"Take me with you," said Sarah, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. "I’m beginning to have serious doubts about my life, lately. I dress up like a prophylactic for a living and I caught my husband with another woman...and neither thing phases me. Something is seriously wrong here."

Spring gasped, shirking her attention from the road to Sarah. "Albert and another woman?"

"Yep. In the parking lot of the Burger Barn. I was in the drive-thru and I thought, hey, that looks like Albert. Then I thought, hey, that
is
Albert...and up popped the head of this other woman. I didn’t even flinch. All I could think was, 'good, at least it saves me the trouble.'"

Spring shrank back. "It didn’t bother you?"

"Well, I also thought, ‘that son of a bitch better not have spent my money to buy her a burger,' but other than that, no, not really." Sarah shrugged and continued to sew. The needle and thread was not really working on the rubber, creating more tears in it than it resolved. "Look, Spring, all done." Sarah held up the costume for Spring to examine, and the poor thing was stitched up so badly Spring couldn’t contain her laughter.

"We will have to rename him Franken-Penis," Sarah said, throwing Casey into the back seat. "Who knows, maybe Kimberly won’t notice?" said Sarah, and both women laughed.

Spring pulled into the office parking lot. "I need a few minutes. Cover for me?"

Sarah nodded. "Take your time. I will keep the beast at bay. After the few days I’ve had, Kimberly doesn’t threaten me at all."

Spring circled the block several times, dodging in and out of midday traffic. It was hot but she didn’t turn the air conditioner on. It seemed like too much effort. "Fuck!" she said, slamming her open palms against the steering wheel. "I’m such an idiot. What did I think would happen when I ran into him? Did I really think he would confess his undying love for me and beg me to marry him?"

Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact you did think that
.

Spring pulled into a city park and watched as small children played in the sprinklers while their mothers chatted with one another, shading themselves from the sun with newspaper. She didn’t remember one time that she had played in a sprinkler as a child. What had she done as a child? Traveled the country with her crazy mother on the carnival circuit. Rode Ferris wheels. Ate corndogs. Babysat her little sister. Watched her father leave. But she didn’t remember any parks. She had visited 48 states and they had never, ever been to a park.
 

Where the fuck were all parks
?
 

BOOK: The Universe is a Very Big Place
3.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Some Like It Witchy by Heather Blake
Shades of Simon Gray by Joyce McDonald
Jailbait by Lesleá Newman
The Noise of Infinite Longing by Luisita Lopez Torregrosa
The Right Time by Delaney Diamond
Crush. Candy. Corpse. by Sylvia McNicoll
Fatal Harvest by Catherine Palmer
Maidens on Mercury by Dani Beck
A Betting Man by Sandrine Gasq-Dion