The Fairy Trail

by Catherine Ras

  It wasn’t true, but he didn’t know that, and Maggie didn’t care. It gave her piece of mind so she could get herself on the right track again. She still didn’t feel right, but she had convinced her employer that she was worth keeping even through the days she didn’t think she could physically get through her shift.

  She began to get auditions, one resulting in a short stint on a toilet paper commercial. She laughed when she told Erin, saying it was apropos considering the mess she had made of her life.

  She had had no more visions since that night in Jason’s apartment, and as long as there were no visions, she felt she was on the right track.

  Maggie finished getting ready for work and went to their tiny kitchenette to get a cup of coffee to take with her. Erin was reaching into one of the laminated cabinets for a mug. She caught Maggie out of the corner of her and pulled out a second mug.

  “Milk and sugar in mine please,” Erin said.

  “You going to work today?”

  “I’ve got the day off. I’m so behind on my errands I’ve got to spend most of the day catching up.”

  Maggie handed the cup of coffee to Erin.

  “Thanks. One of the things I have to do is go to the drug store for Tampax. I’ve got one left, and my period struck today. Hey, you got any extra?”

  “Sure, I….” Maggie stopped. A horrified look took over her face.

  “What’s wrong, girl. Are you out too?”

  Maggie set her mug on the counter. “Yeah, I’m sorry…thought I had some.” She hurried into the bathroom where she immediately vomited. She soaked a wash cloth with cold water and wiped her face. Then she closed the toilet lid and sat down.

  She crossed her arms about her body and rocked back and forth. “No, no .no, no, no! It can’t be. It can’t.”

  Erin tapped on the bathroom door. “Maggie, are you okay?”

  Maggie hesitated. “Uh, huh. I still struggle in the mornings. I need to eat, that’s all.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  Maggie opened the door and displayed the best smile she could despite the way she felt and what she worried to be true. “Thanks, Erin. I’m okay now. I’m going to get my coffee, a piece of toast, and get to work. Don’t want to be late.”

  She walked past Erin and picked up her purse and coat. She left without the coffee or toast.

  Erin watched her. She didn’t bother to call after her to remind her to take her meager breakfast. She was pretty sure there was something much more important on Maggie’s mind.

  Maggie went straight to the pharmacy where she bought a pregnancy test.

  ***

  Maggie lay in bed with the debate that plagued her mind day after day, running through it once again. Next to her were several sheets of paper—one with pros and cons of her situation, one with her options, one with the pros and cons of her options, a letter to Mike, and another sheet with the pros and cons of Mike being the father of her baby and possibly being in her life.

  Secretly, she hoped Mike was not the father, but that would mean she had been date raped at Jason’s apartment party. At this point, it didn’t really matter, and not remembering the parties at Jason’s helped her to make her decision on the last two pieces of paper.

  She picked up the letter to Mike and the pros and cons sheet on him being the father. She tore them into tiny pieces and threw them out.

  “That wasn’t so bad. Now for the next one.” Making the decision about Mike helped her to solidify the next decision. She picked up the piece of paper with the pros and cons to her situation and tore that up as well. She was going to have the baby. The pros and cons of having or not having it were now a moot point.

  “Okay, one more to go,” she said aloud. She picked up the last piece of paper and was studying it when there was a knock on her door.

  Erin entered without waiting for an answer. She was carrying Maggie’s phone and held it out to her. “It was on the counter, and it’s been ringing off the hook.”

  Maggie took the phone. It was her Aunt Agnes’s phone number. There were several calls from her and three messages. She only had to listen to the first one.

  She jumped from the bed and pulled her only suitcase out of the closet.

  “Maggie, what’s wrong?”

  “Aunt Agnes said I need to go home. It’s my mother.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She doesn’t say. She only said she would meet me there.” Maggie flung the suitcase on the bed and opened it. Then she picked up her phone and texted her aunt. On my way.

  ***

  Maggie used the emergency fund she had begun to build up again after she stopped doing drugs to rent a car. There was just enough for a week’s rental.

  As she drove the dark blue Honda Fit on Route 17, she wondered what was wrong with her mother. She didn’t know how she felt that something was wrong with her mother. She placed her hand on the small bulge in her belly. Most of all, she prayed she would be a better mother to her child than her mom was to her.

  When she pulled into the driveway of her childhood home, there was another car she assumed was her aunt’s. She didn’t get out of the Honda right away. She studied the house. She had left this part of her life behind, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to walk back into it.

  Before she could put the car in gear and back out of the driveway, her aunt came out of the house.

  Maggie sighed and turned off the car. She got out, shut the door, but remained near her vehicle.

  Aunt Agnes was walking toward her with open arms that Maggie felt was a bit oxymoron since her aunt hadn’t looked after her or even kept in touch with her like she had promised. Ever since Aunt Agnes met Tony, Maggie had become to her aunt like she had been to her parents—a burden.

  Still, she walked into her aunt’s arms and let herself be hugged. Maggie half-heartedly returned the embrace.

  “Oh, Mags, you look wonderful--almost glowing. I’ve missed you.”

  “Cut the bullshit, Aunt Agnes. If you missed me, you would have kept in touch with me. Now, please tell me what’s wrong with my mother.”

  Aunt Agnes took a step back. Her face was riddled with hurt and guilt. “Your mother’s in the hospital.”

  “It can’t be good or you wouldn’t have called me to come home. You wouldn’t have called me at all. So how is Tony? Is he here? I’d love to meet him.”

  She watched her aunt’s face struggle with which emotion she wanted to settle on. Finally, she took a deep breath and tolerance for Maggie’s cynicism won out.

  “You’re mom had a stroke. It’s bad.”

  Maggie sighed. “How bad?”

  “She won’t be coming back home. The question is, will she pull through, and if she does, what home will she go to because she won’t be able to take care of herself.”

  Maggie took her suitcase out of the car and went into the house with her aunt following.

  “I’m sorry, Mags.”

  “Well, that’s what years of drinking and smoking and being a bitch will do to you.” She saw the hurt look on her aunt’s face. “I’m sorry. I know she’s your sister.”

  “And she was your mother,” her aunt shot back.

  “She might as well not have been my mother, and since when did you start feeling all mushy about her? You have no idea what went on in this house. She locked you out of my life. ”

  Aunt Agnes didn’t hide the shock on her face. “She’s still your mother and my sister,” she said quietly.”

  “In biology only.” Maggie set her suitcase down and turned to face her aunt. “What hospital is she in?”

  “St. Joe’s in Syracuse.”

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Maggie’s mother was unconscious when Maggie got to the hospital, and she didn’t wake, not even at the sound of Maggie’s voice.

  Maggie walked into the very white and sterile room, the first of its kind she ever entered. She had seen many television shows or movies that took plac
e in hospitals, but until she walked into one of those blank, expressionless rooms, she never really understood how such inexpressive décor had significant and profound meaning.

  She touched her mother’s hand while studying her dry, pale skin. Her lips were taut and straight as if she was preparing to string together a slew of insults to say to her daughter.

  Maggie bent down close enough to her mother to whisper, but not too close so that she would feel vulnerable to her. “Just like old times, mother.” She stayed there for a few seconds watching, waiting, but her mother never stirred and the lips never relaxed—in fact, Maggie thought they grew tighter. Then again, she could be imagining things.

  She let go of her mother’s hand, pulled up a chair so she could sit and waited.

  Aunt Agnes walked in a while later. “The doctor’s said there’s no change. Do you want to get something to eat? You should eat.”

  Maggie looked up to see her aunt scrutinizing her.

  “What’s wrong?” Maggie asked.

  “Nothing,” her aunt answered quickly. “You should eat. Let’s go.”

  They made their way to the cafeteria where they grabbed a brown plastic rectangular tray that reminded Maggie of high school. They walked by a long stainless steel, glass-covered case with a variety of food dishes placed throughout.

  Maggie chose a turkey sandwich with cottage cheese on the side. Aunt Agnes picked a hot turkey sandwich with mashed potatoes. When they had their drinks and paid for their food, they found an empty table off in a corner.

  Everything about the bland cafeteria reminded her of high school. The tan Formica covered tables, plastic chairs with chrome legs, and a tiled floor with gray speckled twelve-inch by twelve-inch tiles.

  Maggie placed her napkin on her lap. She picked up her sandwich and pulled out a piece of wilted lettuce that was hanging from the bread. She set it back down and looked at her aunt.

  “So, what did the doctors say?”

  Her aunt put her fork down and finished chewing. She sat back in her chair. “Your mom lapsed into a coma yesterday. If,” she strongly emphasized the word if, “she comes out of it, you will need to make decisions as to where to place her—preferably somewhere with a very good rehabilitation program for stroke victims. Even so, she may never go home again. If that’s the case, you need to find out how much money your mom has, if any. You may need to sell the house. I suggest we find a lawyer experienced in this kind of thing to make sure you do everything the right way.”

  “What’s the wrong way?”

  “Someone needs to pay for her care. If she has no money, the government will expect you to sell the house. After that, the government will pay for her—social security, Medicaid—you know all that stuff.”

  Maggie didn’t know. She didn’t really care, but since she was her daughter, it was all left up to her. Maggie looked out the window. Well, wasn’t that just a shot in the head? For all the care her parents did not give her, now her mother’s care was left to her.

  “Okay. I’ll look for a lawyer who can take care of it all. Can the lawyer’s fee come out of my mom’s money?”

  “I would think so, but the lawyer will be able to answer that better than I can. Usually, the consultation is free, so you can ask that question then.”

  “I really don’t have a choice in this. Why don’t you take care of it? You’re her sister. She was closer to you than to me.”

  “Mags, she’s your mother,” her aunt said sternly. “And that means something. If you don’t know that now, you better learn it fast.”

  Maggie felt a lump in her throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Her aunt dropped her gaze to Maggie’s stomach, and then fixed them on Maggie’s face. “I know fat when I see it. I also know pregnant when I see it.”

  “I should eat.” Maggie picked up her sandwich and began to eat.

  Her aunt waited for her to say something, but when Maggie continued to take bites of her dinner, she gave up and finished her own meal. When she was done, she excused herself and went back to the food area. She came back with two large chocolate chip cookies and glasses of milk.

  “Dessert is good for the soul. Milk is good for the baby.” She placed a cookie and glass in front of Maggie. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Maggie took a deep breath that reached all the way to her belly and sighed heavily. “No, but I will have the cookie and milk. Thank-you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  With her mouth full of cookie, Maggie said, “So how’s Tony?”

  A broad smile appeared on Aunt Agnes’s face. She couldn’t help herself, so it was easy to fall into Maggie’s trap.

  “Oh, he’s the most wonderful man. He’s handsome and very smart. He’s been talking about marriage, but….” She stopped when she caught the cynical expression on Maggie’s face.

  “I thought we were better than that,” her aunt said quietly. “I did the best I could.”

  “Did you really? You were as much under my mother’s thumb as I was. But you were an adult. You could have done something.”

  “You don’t know how your mother was,” she struggled to say.

  Maggie laughed long and hard. “You really believe that? You think I didn’t know how my mother was?” It was a question Maggie couldn’t believe she even had to ask. “Interesting. So, you know everything about her. You know everything she did—how she raised me.”

  “Well, I….”

  “You know how she used to hit me, across the face, all the time, or how she made me pick up the entire contents of the garbage can with my bare hands after she dumped it out on the kitchen floor, or the countless years of her drinking and smoking, how she and my father would taunt me, make fun of me.” Maggie got up from the table. “Well, there’s no need for me to go on since you know everything. Excuse me, but I’m going back to the room.

  “Mags, please sit down.”

  She glared at her aunt, her entire lifetime of misery in her hardened stare.

  “I really tried to be there as much as I could,” her aunt pleaded for Maggie to believe her.

  “I might’ve believed that at one time, but when you met Tony, I never heard from you again. You told me when I went to college that you’d be there for me. All I had to do was call. I did, Aunt Agnes. I called several times when I was in New York, but you know what?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she leaned over so she her face was close to her aunt’s. “You didn’t answer.”

  Maggie left the cafeteria where her aunt sat stunned and doleful.

  When Maggie reached the floor where her mother’s room was, there were nurses moving quickly between the center station and her mother’s room. She stopped, leaned against a wall and watched.

  A man in the stereotypical white doctor’s coat with a stethoscope slung around his neck jogged into the room.

  Maggie listened to the sounds of her mother dying. She closed her eyes and tried to stir up the emotions she should be feeling at this moment—sadness, fear, loss, but she was empty, and that scared her.

  Maggie hadn’t had the gift of foresight since the night she left Jason’s apartment, but right then, standing in the hall outside her mother’s hospital room where her life was ending, Maggie had her own foresight. She knew what kind of mother she wanted to be and what kind of mother she didn’t want to be.

  When the noise of the code blue team and their machines grew quiet, Maggie pushed herself off the wall and approached the door. She looked in just as the nurse was pulling the sheet over her mother’s head.

  “Please wait,” she said quietly startling the medical staff left in the room. “She’s my mother. I’d like to say good-bye.”

  The doctor and nurses exited the room whispering “I’m sorry for your loss” as they passed her. Maggie stood for a moment looking at the lifeless expression on her mother’s face.

  She walked over to the bed, her gaze fixed on her mother’s eyes that were closed. She placed herself at the side of the b
ed, leaving her hands at her side.

  “I will no longer be at the mercy of your cruelness. I will no longer be the reason for your miserable life that you and my father created. I am free of you. Today is a good day. Good-bye, mother.”

  Maggie left the room, feeling….

  Her father was gone…now her mother. She never missed her father, not one day. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t miss her mother either. If that was true, why did she feel alone, sad, and desperate? Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe, and she had to get out of the hospital.

  She ran down five flights of stairs, weaving in and out of people as she made her way from one corridor to the next searching for an exit. She almost knocked her Aunt Agnes over as she was coming out of the cafeteria.

  “Maggie, watch where you’re going.” When her aunt noticed the grief stricken expression on her niece’s face, the irritated tone with which she spoke to her niece turned into concern when she asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Maggie’s face was wet with tears. She fell into her aunt’s arms and sobbed. “She’s gone.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Maggie opened her eyes and was forced to squeeze them shut by the glare of the sun in her face through the window next to her bed. She rolled away from the wall and was able to look at her surroundings. When and how did she get to her bedroom?

  She pulled the shade tinged with childhood stains down enough to block the bright light. Forcing her brain to go back to the previous night, she began to feel sick to her stomach, and tears were touching the corner of her eyes.

  Her mom had died. She had fallen into her aunt’s arms and cried herself into a stupor. Her aunt brought her home where she fell into bed, her body drained from the release of emotions she didn’t know she was harboring.

  The sweet, meaty smell of apple bacon wafted through her door. As much as she wanted to hide under the covers and push last night’s feelings back where they were and where they should stay, the smell was too good. She dragged herself out of bed.