Delta Ridge
Page 23
Jesus said it, St. Paul said it, Plato said it, Buddha said it, all in one way or the other: Whatever gets you through the darkness into the light. I know that my own light has come on; I hope this time to stay. “Through the glass darkly, and then face to face.” My mirror would show a new me, more authentic than before.
I felt no competition with this soft woman sitting across the dining table at the Hall. I no longer felt anger towards her or towards Michael.
I know now that one day I will marry and have children, but for now I live in the present moment. I will never feel as needy again nor would I feign it for others’ sympathy. I will be a good soldier. For a change, I will follow Charlotte’s advice and turn this year’s madness into a reason, maybe some kind of purpose.
At that moment, Aunt Elizabeth turned to the small television set on the sideboard with its muted picture and turned up the volume. “Have you ever watched The Moody Blues concert at Red Rocks in Colorado, Holly?” Aunt Elizabeth has a strange way of removing herself from distressing subjects. The band’s driving beat filled the room. “You probably don’t remember this group. They’re English,” she continued.
“I have the CD,” I said wondering if the remark were a vain attempt to make herself be younger than she is.
AS FOR ME, I expect nothing now except to be able to take care of myself. I realized after my near-death experiences, that I had been looking after me since I was eighteen years old. The only difference is that I know that I will never be a whiner again. The self-pitying, blaming fool I was died in the fire of fear. The new girl who was forged from the fire trials is ready, entirely ready to begin anew. The fire that refines steel melts marshmallows, and thank you, God, I’m no longer a marshmallow.
I’m alive! Life’s too short not to live it. I am empowered. I feel vulnerable and invincible at the same time. I risked too much, I know that now, but the risk paid off. I have lived to tell the tale and wounded a killer with my own bare hands. But I was not alone, the force of my ancestors was with me – the power of two loving men helped save my life. I knew my daddy was not going to let me die inside the house where he had died, not when I was risking myself to catch his killer. I was the cheese, but his spirit was the mousetrap in a room of weapons. My dear sweet Uncle Garland lent not only his spirit, but his burnt body as well. Of course, the weight of that urn helped move things along. Uncle Garland spread himself pretty thin all around me, like a shield, a cloak, a magic carpet, to make me invincible.
I’m no crazier today than I was when I returned to this town, or maybe even when I left it, and no, I’m not ready to start attending séances with Madame Rubow who’s married to a member of the Harrisburg Mafia over on Dead Car Hill, but I’ll always know that in the future, I carry with me in respect and loving memory all the Ninjas I need.
I hope in my newfound power I’ve also found gratitude and humility. I misplaced them somewhere in Delta Ridge so many years ago. Where am I going now? Wherever the good wind takes me, and it will. Probably right back to the office for now. I’m Ham’s legs and arms. Yes, I know that he still gets to be the brains, but he needs me; maybe Delta Ridge and Carter County need me. I’m a Southern woman, and that makes me a sucker for need.