Between the Rage and Grace

by Janna Hill

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Clara said as she quickly embraced the lady and asked,

  “Have they told you anything yet?”

  “They think it may actually be his gallbladder.”

  “Well that’s not so bad.” Clara consoled her.

  “No, its not. But I am just an emotional wreck since mother.” She confessed before brusquely asking, “Do you believe in heaven and hell?”

  You best deliver that poor souls message to her family at first chance. The words of Mr. O’Bromley burned in Clara’s thoughts as she looked at the troubled lady standing in front of her asking such a personal question.

  “Olam-ha-ba.” Clara said before she could think clearly.

  “What?” the lady stammered lightly stumbling backwards. When she regained sure footing Clara continued,

  “I recall your mother saying that and she said tell them I am not afraid.”

  “Do you know what it means?”

  “I don’t have a clue.” Clara confessed.

  “It refers to the coming world… life after death.” The lady explained.

  “I tried to look it up” Clara admitted, “but I didn’t find anything.”

  “You’re not Jewish are you?” the lady asked as the grief lifted from off her face. She hugged Clara mumbling “Thank you.” then squeezed the wadded cashmere sweater to her chest and walked back to the ER.

  Who was that Maggie asked without looking away from the spy cam.

  “Mrs. Levine’s daughter.” Clara told her

  “Oh hell you didn’t give her the sweater, did you?”

  “Yes I did because it was her sweater.”

  “But I loved that sweater.” Maggie pouted.

  “Aren’t you bored with that yet? There can’t be that much to look at.” Clara said of Maggie still glued to the monitor.

  “Well missy I can’t read peoples thoughts so I have to rely on technology.”

  Clara didn’t press the issue knowing Maggie had a lot to digest with all the fresh food for thought piled on her in a very short time.

  “Oh shit she’s coming out.” Maggie squealed as she flipped the monitor off.

  Ms. Latrull approached the nurses with a weak smile emerging from her tired face.

  “I tink Mucalinda is ready to tell us wat it was dat made her do dis to her self. Clara lady, are you ready?”

  “We can’t be carrying on a damn séance with Madam Mojo here.” Maggie stressed to Clara, “This is a hospital not a freaking mausoleum.”

  “You want for me to sign da paper, do you not?” she asked Maggie.

  Ms. Latrull was firm in her conviction and it was obvious in her steely poise.

  Maggie found herself at a loss and was looking to Clara for an answer.

  Clara breathed a deep sigh and partially exhaled looking at Maggie and Linda’s mother she told them, “We better do it before the next shift arrives and thinks we’re all insane. Maggie you’ll have to cover me.”

  “I’ve got your back.” Maggie replied softly, “You know you don’t have to do this.”

  “I believe that I do.” Clara said.

  “Alright then we’ll do it whenever you’re ready.” She whispered

  “No time like the present.” Clara said soaking up another deep breath with her incisors nipping at her lower lip she marched toward room #6

  “Well come on Mary Magdalene, we’ll need a crypt keeper.” Maggie said to Ms. Latrull while moving her forward with a hand between her shoulder blades.

  “Da name calling does not bodder me. On da contrary I am amused by it.” She said cheerfully.

  “I can’t even insult this one.” Maggie growled.

  “Ladies- shhh.” Clara said with a trembling finger to her lips.

  The three stood like statues at the foot of Linda’s bed.

  “Go to her.” Ms. Latrull told Clara, “I will guide you if need be.” Clara inched up until she was standing even with the patient’s waist.

  “Shall we begin?” Clara asked her accomplices and watched to see them both nod in agreement.

  Chapter 20

  The Intervention

  Clara extended her right hand to Maggie wiggling her fingers as an indication for Maggie to take it and then nodded toward Mary Magdalene with a glance for them to do the same. Ms. Latrull extended her hand and rolling her eyes Maggie reluctantly accepted. Clara had never said a prayer aloud in her life and she only knew the one. She briefly worried that she might not be able to recall the verses without screwing it up but instantly decided neither of them would recognize it if she did. Bowing her head she began.

  “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

  He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

  Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

  Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever. Amen”

  Clara wasn’t sure if it was her palm sweating or Maggie’s as she hurried through the 23rd psalm so she could release her grip.

  Ms. Latrull was humming lowly and Maggie was giggling both of which Clara found to be very distracting and she glared at her cohort to let them know.

  “Sorry.” Maggie said, “I giggle when I’m nervous.”

  Ms. Latrull nodded and became quiet.

  Clara dried her hand against her pants and reached to touch the latent spirit.

  Clara stood with her eyes shut and let her hand rest on Linda’s chest for several minutes. She strained to see but the well meaning and inexperienced psychic was blinded by darkness, she began to fidget waiting on a spark or an image.

  “Maybe you’re not doing it right.” Maggie whispered. “Hey, do you think it would help if I hit one of you with a few joules from the defibrillator?”

  Clara’s eyes flew open and she tried to stare a hole through Maggie.

  “I’m just trying to help.” She responded with sincerity.

  “Don’t push.” Ms. Latrull told her. “It will come.”

  Maggie was anxious now to see this thing happen though she had been quiet reluctant earlier. She wasn’t certain why she felt persuaded either way but knew she desperately wanted to see her friend and meet her sister and if this could make that come to pass she was gung-ho. From her recollection Clara’s ability seemed to spring forward when her emotions were stirred a little bit. Maybe if she could motivate the little Irish potato this could still work.

  “For Pete’s sake Clara!” Maggie scoffed “Take her damn hand like this” putting Linda’s limp hand in to hers, “Put you other hand on her head like this.” She said placing Clara’s left hand on the patient’s forehead. “Now see something dammit.” Maggie said as she popped Clara lightly in the back of the head. It wasn’t enough to hurt but it accomplished what Maggie had hoped for. Clara was furious but before she could attack Maggie the flash erupted.

  Clara’s eyes widened as the light grew brighter craning her neck slightly she strained to hear the voice that was barely audible.

  “Say it” Ms. Latrull coaxed her, “Tell every little ting you see and hear. Remember it is not yours… it cannot hurt you.”

  Clara relaxed and with the madam’s calm encouragement as she started the jagged voyage through Linda’s mind.

  “She is smiling up from her mother from her lap…she thinks she is beautiful with her bronzed skin and milk white teeth laughing through cherry colored lips… tickling her and laughing even when she pulls her hair mommy laughs and eases her tiny hands from the tangled curls. Four…maybe five but not old enough to go to school yet… the glass beads amuse her as she winds herself around and around watching the light b
ounce off of the crystal and listening to the clinking…she thinks they’re magic…the fancy lady comes in … she drops her bag and when she bends to get it she can see up her dress- a large black mole on her bottom… the lady tells her mother she is just checking to make sure she had kept her part of the bargain… Mama says yes, no one knows his name.

  She is happy but… the other children are making fun of her on the square… they make her feel ashamed with their jokes and teasing. They say her mother doesn’t have a husband... she doesn’t have a daddy- because she was conjured up with a magic spell.

  …Ray Lafont…he will save her but no he is a mean, filthy man…he turned her head-tried to make her a whore. She can’t go home…

  She says Maggie Turner saved her and she is happy again. When the father comes to visit only her and him know and he says that is how it must be. She can’t tell… must never tell but his visits make her feel like she is… they are family She misses Maggie since college… wished she hadn’t gone back to Mississippi.

  She’s proud… has her own house in the city and loves her job at the clinic…

  Maggie is getting married… the picture in the news paper his him. She goes to see Ray, tells him not to hurt her friend or she will tell …

  … the fancy lady with the mole shows up…. She is a mean woman always popping up and won’t say who she is….consider me your guardian angel she said…

  Linda is ashamed she took the money and left town. All of her life she has been ashamed… making one bad decision after another.

  When Maggie came to Texas she was happy again. It made her feel good to help her.

  It took away some of the shame… the fancy lady and Ray found them… her and Maggie…they wanted the pictures but she wouldn’t let them have them. She lied and said they were in a safe deposit box at the bank… she swore they would never show the pictures if they would leave her friend alone…the fancy lady wanted to know how her daughter was doing… Linda knows now who she is… she wants to tell Maggie.

  Ray is choking her… but the fancy lady says no…there is a better way…she has a doll…and a piece from Linda’s blouse … wrapping the doll with something… hair… it is Linda’s hair.

  ..Ray is holding her … I won’t tell, I promise I won’t tell… she is crying but they don’t believe her… the lady says she should have taken care of her a long time ago… I should have killed your mother with you inside her she tells her. He is holding her head…he is too strong, she can’t get his hands off of her face… the demon lady is pouring something down her throat… it tastes like burnt licorice and the lady is mumbling something over her...”

  “Listen closely.” Ms Latrull urged, “Wat are da words? I need to know what it was she said.”

  Clara was breathless and retching as she tasted the thick anise elixir in her own mouth.

  “Dis is not you.” the madam reminded her, “Like tru a window-you are only watching.”

  Clara cleared her throat and imagined a glass pane between her and the scene unfolding calming her breath with a deep sigh she continued,

  “…sharper than knife….take the blade and take your life… she is cutting the doll… stabbing it with the scalpel and slicing the legs … get into your car, drive to the park and do as I have told you… she is handing the blade to Linda…

  she tried to stop herself, wanted to stab the evil woman with the shiny knife but she couldn’t…wanted to drive to Maggie but…

  Mama... help me…”

  The images and words were fading as Clara’s voice trailed off and she batted her eyes.

  “No” Maggie begged, “not yet Clara. Tell her to wake up, to come back. Tell her I need her.”

  “She can hear you.” Clara informed her, “She feels the same about you and wants you to know... She wants to wake up…to help you through this but she can’t find her way. There is no light… nothing she can see to guide her in the pitch of blackness…”

  Suddenly like a power outage the images and voices were gone. Clara dropped Linda’s hand against the stainless steel bed railing and stumbled backwards into the waiting arms of Ms. Latrull , “You have done well and I tank you” she said as she eased Clara into a chair with a soothing pat and turned to her daughter,

  “Hang on my Mucalinda.” She cried, “I am coming for you.”

  “Yoo-hoo, is anyone here?” a voice called from outside the door.

  “Oh hell, that’s our relief!” Maggie exclaimed.

  “But we are not tru here.” Ms. Latrull told her.

  “We are for now. The next shift is here and we have to leave.” Maggie replied before yelling out the door, “Just wrapping up- we’ll be out in a minute.”

  Clara had stood and headed for the door but Maggie stopped her, “Are you ok? Can you act normal?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” Clara told her, “Oddly enough I do feel normal.”

  “It will get easier. Da more you do it- it will come wit out effort.”

  “Whoopee.” Clara said twirling her finger in the air.

  “We can’t leave Madam Voodoo here.” Linda whispered to Clara, “What should we do with her?”

  Overhearing Ms. Latrull responded matter-of-factly, “I will go to Mucalinda’s house. Where her tings are dat I can feel her spirit and prepare to bring her home.”

  “Oh hell no.” Maggie shot back, “Linda and I live together- I don’t think I can-”

  “Take her home with you Maggie.” Clara replied briskly, “Cut the woman some slack for Linda’s sake if nothing else.”

  Maggie looked at the two that seemed to be in cahoots on the matter and agreed, “Okay. But I don’t have to like it.”

  “Needer do I.” Ms. Latrull replied rolling her eyes.

  “Is that humor? Are you trying to be funny?” asked Maggie.

  “I don’t tink so.” The madam responded with a grin, “I will wait in da lobby for you, den we go home.” She didn’t wait for Maggie to argue but walked out through the unit without acknowledging the unknown nurse sitting at the desk.

  “Well I guess she told you.” Clara laughed.

  “I guess she did.” Maggie agreed, “Lets report and get the hell out of here.”

  Clara and Maggie exchanged good byes in the parking lot as usual while Ms. Latrull sat perched in the passenger’s seat staring straight ahead with her purse hugged close in her lap.

  “I’ll see you both tonight then?” Clara asked.

  “I don’t see any way around it” Maggie told her before adding her brand of humor,

  “Unless she gets mad and turns me into a toad.

  “Ribbit,” Clara joked as she drove away.

  Chapter 21

  Picking up the Pieces

  The short ride home was spent in silence other than the faint humming sound coming from Ms. Latrull as she stared out the tinted window.

  Maggie parked the car and went into the house devoid of saying a word with Linda’s mother following only steps behind her.

  Halting in the front room Ms. Latrull gently rear ended Maggie causing her to whirl around and wield a gesture to back off as she grunted with exasperation,

  “This is the living room” she told the visitor, “Through there is the kitchen. The bathroom is down the hall on the left but don’t use that one, it’s mine. You’ll be sleeping in Linda’s room, first door on the right- use the bathroom that’s in there.”

  Ms. Latrull stood in the center of the living room studying every detail about the area before she moved to the kitchen and done the same as Maggie followed suspiciously.

  “Is this Mucalinda’s cup?” she asked holding up a dark green mug and inspecting the logo that read CORELLE STONEWARE MADE IN THAILAND on the bottom.

  “Yes.” Maggie replied, “There is a set of eight, if you’re interested.”

  “No tank you. Just dis one.” She answered as she slipped the container into her oversized purse.

  “Whatever floats your boat.” Maggie told her, “I see you won’t have any
problem making yourself at home so I’m going to shower and lay down for a bit. Wake me if you need anything.” Maggie forced herself to remain distant from the woman yet every bone in her southern body wanted to be gracious to her guest and make her feel welcomed. Maybe she would when she was through being mad, but not now.

  Ms. Latrull set a tea pot on the stove and turned the electric knob to high. She personally preferred a gas range but that wasn’t really important. She pulled a package of blended herbs and spices from her bag and sat quietly as she listened to Maggie stir about the house. When she was certain that the foolhardy girl had fallen asleep she withdrew the green cup and sat it on the table. She shook the mix and emptied the aromatic sachet into the cup chased by the boiling water. When the foaming had stopped she lifted the mug to her lips and drank. While she waited on the concoction to affect her she considered her envy of the white girl who had such a strong natural ability, not having to rely on rituals and potions to bring her a vision. Putting her hands to her head the woman knew she had to obliterate any covetous thoughts if this was going to work and she forced them from her conscious mind recalling another white girl she had once known [who had no gift] and that was overcome and spoiled by greed and jealousy. Be gone green monster. She commanded and let the herbs wash over her.

  When the medicine had begun to take effect she gathered her bag of tricks and walked toward her daughter’s room. Sliding her hand across the walls along the way, walking the path her Mucalinda walked daily she could feel the essence of contentment. As she stood before the door to Linda’s bedroom her heart rate rose ever so slightly in anticipation of what she might learn and she prepared herself for the flood of resentment that was surely present.

  The room was well lit and sparsely decorated. A framed picture of Maggie and Linda was all that adorned the shellacked pine dresser and the image of the laughing girls made Ms. Latrull smile. She could see a resemblance in them, subtle and camouflaged by the contrast in their coloring and the texture of their hair but if one cared to look past that it could be seen. She caressed the photograph and sat it down tenderly then ran her hand along the dresser. Opening the closet door she fondled every piece of clothing slowly and deliberately before holding it to her face and inhaling the scent and done the same with the garments inside the dresser drawers before opening the bathroom door.