Fly Like a Bird

by Jana Zinser

  “Nearly scared me half to death,” Patty said.

  “Chased the chickens,” Carly said.

  Ivy stared at them both. Patty never stepped outside the house if she could avoid it.

  “Well, stay off the roof next time, little girl.”

  “Ivy, I was wondering if you could buy me some regular, you know, outside clothes?” asked Patty.

  “I’d be glad to.”

  “I’m not even sure what size I am anymore.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  Something inside Patty had changed. Her sadness faded. Having Carly in her life had coaxed Patty out of her pink flannel nightgowns and was bringing her out into the sun again.

  When Ivy and Carly got home, they found Grandma sitting on the living room couch leafing through the Coffey Gazette. At seventy-nine, Grandma had watched all her contemporaries die, and she now relied on the subsequent generations to fill her life.

  “Everyone my age is long gone. You know, I read the obituaries every day to see who’s left this world. I figure, if I’m reading them, then I’m still here.” Grandma’s chuckle led to a coughing spell. Ivy sat down next to her on the couch and gently rubbed Grandma’s back. Her bony shoulders felt so unfamiliar. “You’re still here, Grandma.”

  Ivy wasn’t used to Grandma’s gradual thinness. The cancer had taken both her breasts, and now it slowly stole the rest of her body. Grandma patted her stomach.

  “Yeah, I’m here, but I get a lot colder now without as much padding to insulate me.”

  “Well, it’s good you have a quilt or two around here,” Ivy teased with a smile.

  Carly snuggled on the other side of Grandma, who pulled one of Pinky’s homemade quilts across their laps. Ivy held Grandma’s hand and played with her wedding ring like she did as a child. The ring spun loosely now. “Grandma, do you really think there’s another world after death?”

  Grandma nodded. “Yes, my dear. I’m sure of it. Robert and Sam Taylor will meet me in the Great Hereafter.”

  “What do you think it looks like?”

  “I don’t know, dear. But I’ll tell you when I get there.”

  “Okay. Just send me a sign when you’re all settled on your back porch in the Great Hereafter.”

  Grandma coughed. “Sure enough. What kind of a sign?”

  “I don’t know. Something that I’ll know is you.”

  Carly clapped her hands. “The birds. The birds.”

  Grandma chuckled. “The birds. You like them, too?”

  Carly nodded. “You talk to them.”

  “Yeah, that’s perfect,” Ivy said. “Send a sign with the birds. Then I’ll finally know if they really talked to you or if you’ve been teasing me all these years.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that and don’t forget to feed them when I’m gone.” She hugged Carly.

  “All right, Grandma,” Carly said. “But they’ll miss you.”

  “And I’ll miss them and you, very, very much.”

  Ivy tapped Grandma’s arm. “Did I tell you Nick passed the bar exam and is working for a big law firm in New York? His dad told me.”

  Grandma smiled. “Really? Sir Lancelot makes it big, huh, Miss Susie? But is he happy? I’ve always been of the mind that the best marriages are made with your best friend. Nick’s my favorite, always was.” Grandma patted Ivy’s hand. “You know it’s not too late for you two.”

  “Did your birds tell you that, too?”

  “No, I didn’t live seventy-nine years for nothing. I’m the all-knowing being. Ask Nick.”

  “I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for choosing Jesse over him. I don’t think I’ll forgive myself.”

  “Sometimes things are meant to be.” Grandma’s chuckle led into a coughing spell. She lay back on the couch and closed her eyes.

  Grandma, the woman who never slept, began to doze for long stretches with Pinky’s quilts pulled up to her chin.

  The next day, when Ivy peeked into Grandma’s bedroom, she saw Carly curled up beside Grandma, basking in the comfort of her great-grandmother’s presence. Grandma sleepily looked up. “Ivy, come on in, dear.” Grandma’s voice sounded husky and deep.

  Ivy pushed open the door. “I’m sorry, Grandma, I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just checking on you.”

  Carly sat up and Grandma patted her face. “Carly, thanks for keeping me company. Why don’t you go play for a while? I need to talk to your mother for a few minutes.”

  Carly kissed her Grandma’s cheek. “Okay, Grandma. I check on you.”

  “Thank you, my love.”

  Carly ran out of the room and shut the door. Grandma motioned Ivy over, and she sat down on the mahogany fourposter bed. “Ivy, I’m going to need to go soon.”

  “Go where?” Grandma wasn’t strong enough for any long trips.

  She pointed skyward and smiled. “To the Great Hereafter, to join my Sam Taylor and Robert.”

  “I know. But what about me and Carly?”

  Grandma shifted on the bed. “Ivy dear, I’ve kept this old rattle-trap of a body alive all these years for you. But I’m tired, and you don’t need me like you used to.”

  Ivy shook her head. “Grandma . . .”

  Grandma shook her finger. “You hush up. You’re strong enough without me and that’s a great comfort to me. I’m plum worn out. It’s time for me to rest in peace.”

  Grandma struggled to sit up. “I’ve lived to see you grown. Having you beside me has truly been my life’s blessing. You’ve kept me alive all these years since your father’s death. You put laughter back in my life. But Ivy, my child, I’m not long for this world.”

  Ivy shook her head. “Grandma, I don’t want to think about that. I don’t know how to live without you.”

  Grandma clasped Ivy’s hand. “Well, child, I won’t live forever. When I die, you will have to fill your heart with your love for Carly, like I did with you. Having you here helped me get through my unbearable grief. I had the boys to love when Sam Taylor died, and I had you when my sweet Robert died. I knew when Carly came into your life that it would soon be safe for me to leave. She will carry you through all of life’s sorrows, like you and the boys did for me. Now it’s your turn to be strong for your little girl. Now it’s your turn to be the great surly one.”

  Ivy cried, and warm tears fell down her cheeks. “I’ll try, Grandma, but I’m not as strong as you.” Ivy stroked Grandma’s hand and it felt cool.

  “Yes, you are. You are my child and my kindred spirit. I’ve known too much in my days. It’s been a heavy burden on my heart and mind.” Grandma paused, smoothing the quilt on the bed. Her tongue circled her lips. “My mouth is dry. Could you get me some ice water, please?”

  Ivy’s hands trembled as she poured cool water from the pitcher next to Grandma’s bed. Grandma took a few small sips and settled back against the pillows. “There’s something I should have told you a long time ago, but I didn’t know how. Now my time has run out.”

  Ivy’s heart pounded loudly. Grandma shook her head. “I’m too old for fancy words.” Grandma took a deep breath. “Ivy, your mother lives on Beckman Street in Des Moines.”

  Ivy gasped, and tears welled up in her eyes. She hugged Grandma. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t remember the number. But who told you she was alive?”

  “You’ve got your secrets, and I’ve got mine.”

  Grandma patted Ivy’s hand. “All these years, I’ve been so afraid that you would hate me when you found out.”

  “I was pretty mad. But I know you were doing what you thought was best. I know it’s weird, but I think I felt more alone after I found out she was still alive and out there somewhere.”

  “All of us are alone in this world. Our only true connection to others is through love.”

  The lilting songs of the birds in the backyard floated through the window.

  “What was my mother really like?”

  Grandma rubbed the edge of the quilt. “Well Ivy, she was empty and lonel
y. No matter how much she had, she was never satisfied. I don’t think she knew what she wanted and it was hurtful. She couldn’t wait to get out of Coffey.”

  “Like me.”

  Grandma shook her head vigorously. “No, you’re nothing like her.”

  Ivy winced.

  “You’re you. We all have to choose our own path. You sacrificed a lot for the people you love, but your mother sacrificed the people who loved her.” Grandma looked out the window for a moment. “Robert was twenty-six when they married and Barbara was only twenty-two when you were born. She was still a newlywed. They hadn’t been married very long when you came along. She wasn’t finished growing up. She wasn’t prepared to take care of you. She still wanted someone to take care of her and I think she resented Robert for loving you so much.

  “No matter what Robert did, it was never good enough. The poor boy worked double shifts at the packing plant to buy her that new car. She just had to have a red Pontiac Bonneville. And he got it for her.” Grandma coughed and cleared her throat. “She worked out there too, but she quit when you were born. Then she complained so much about having to take care of you that Robert asked me to watch you during the day. So, I went over one morning to pick you up.”

  Grandma rubbed her arms. “It still gives me shivers to think about that day. Your mother was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee, smoking a cigarette, and painting her long nails while you cried hysterically in your crib. When I rushed to you, your foot was caught in the crib railing and your diaper needed changing. You had nothing on but a dirty undershirt. From that day on, I picked you up every morning and Robert came to get you after he got off of work. She did nothing and was fine with it.”

  Ivy felt pity for her mother. She understood the overwhelming responsibility of taking care of a child. She, too, had felt reluctant about being Carly’s mother. The responsibility of a baby must have been too heavy and too restricting for someone so young. Barbara sounded depressed.

  “There was a terrible storm the night your father died. When your father came home from work, he found a note from your mother, telling him she was leaving. He was angry. He said he couldn’t live without her. I guess he didn’t.”

  Ivy wondered if it was the same letter she had found in the glovebox at the dump. Grandma reached over and patted Ivy’s hand.

  “But he couldn’t stop her, and she got on the bus. I have to tell you I wanted her gone. Robert must have been distraught because he pulled through the intersection without stopping. An 18-wheeler hit his car and he was killed instantly. Your mother talked to the sheriff and then got back on the bus to Des Moines.”

  Grandma patted her lap as she remembered that night. “Some rainy nights can change a generation. Uncle Walter went out there with Charlie that night. He came back a different man. Never seemed to be able to trust anyone again. I never told you all this because I wanted you to believe you are worth everything. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  Ivy kissed her Grandmother and stroked her face. The sweet smell of lilacs still hovered around Grandma. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  Uncle Walter had retired from the Post Office a few years earlier and his life had slowed to a crawl. That night when he walked from his trailer for supper at Grandma’s house, Ivy pulled him into the kitchen. “Grandma and I talked about my mother today. Grandma says she thinks she lives on Beckman Street in Des Moines. I need to find her.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not so sure that’s such a good idea. Barbara tends to tilt the world her way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She uses people to get what she wants.”

  “I don’t think I have anything she wants.”

  He glanced around the room, as if making sure no one else was listening. “You know, you can find anyone’s address through the postal service’s address management records. Russell can check Beckman Street for you.”

  Ivy hugged him. Uncle Walter had softened over the years. Perhaps he would someday be able to forgive her mother. “Thanks. I’ll ask him.”

  “She might not be what you expect. It’s been a long time, you know.”

  “Maybe. But I need to find her. She’s my mother.”

  He sighed. “Yes, I guess you’re right. Secrets grow heavier over time.”

  A tragic twist of fate gave her a wise and loving grandmother instead of a misunderstood and confused mother, but she also lost the father who loved her and her dream of a perfect mother. How could her mother be as bad as Grandma described if her father loved her so much? Maybe her uncles weren’t the only members of the Taylor family who held a family grudge.

  Ivy went upstairs to check on Grandma and bring her a glass of water. “Grandma, here’s some ice water. Can I get you anything else?”

  “Could you put that other quilt over me? I’ve got a chill in my bones.”

  “Sure, Grandma.” Ivy pulled another one of Pinky’s beautiful quilts over her. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “When I go, I want to be buried in that blue dress with the white pearl buttons. It’s the only good dress I have that won’t fall off me. Not that I’d have to worry about that in a casket. Don’t bother with hose. I haven’t worn hose for decades and a bra seems unnecessary without breasts.” She continued to list her burial clothing as if reciting a grocery list. Ivy was shocked at her casualness. There was so much about death that Ivy didn’t understand.

  “I won’t need any shoes.” Grandma raised her finger. “And will you bury me with one of Pinky’s quilts? The one with all the children of the world holding hands in a circle? I don’t want to feel the chilly draft on the way to the Great Hereafter.”

  “Okay.”

  Sadness washed over Ivy like a cold prairie wind. She stood up quickly, so Grandma would not see her tears. When she turned back, Grandma had pushed all the quilts off the bed. She lay sweating as her eyelids closed into sleep.

  The next afternoon, Ivy helped Grandma get dressed. “Justin Roberts just called. He’s coming over with some of Miss Shirley’s homemade soup.”

  Grandma waved her hands. “Help me get downstairs so I can watch the birds while I wait for him.”

  Ivy guided Grandma down the stairs and onto the porch. Although the weather had turned cold, the birds still flocked to Grandma’s backyard. Justin, now a sophomore in high school, came up the back porch with a steaming pot of Miss Shirley’s potato soup and a cherry pie. Each year Justin looked more like, Ben, who was now an EMT for the ambulance service.

  Grandma tried to stand to greet him, but the strain was too much. “My, my. That soup smells delicious.”

  Justin sat down next to Grandma as Ivy took the soup and the pie into the kitchen. She knew Grandma wouldn’t taste Miss Shirley’s food. Grandma rarely ate anymore.

  Ivy joined them on the porch. “Miss Shirley sent us one of her cherry pies.”

  “Well, Justin, if your Mother didn’t send an angel pie, I must not be dead yet.”

  “My mom says your spirit will fill up the heavens, and the Lord doesn’t have enough room for you yet.”

  Grandma laughed and cupped her hand to her ear. “I think I hear them rearranging the furniture right now. My time is coming. You can count on that.” Grandma looked into the gray eyes of the great-grandson she never got to claim. “You’ve had a good life haven’t you, Justin?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. What about you?”

  “Some years were better than others, with a few surprises along the way and a few regrets. You’ll probably find that yourself.” Grandma’s eyes glazed over and her hands pulled at the tissue in her lap. “But all in all, I’ve taken a happy path.” She shook her head slightly and sighed. “It was mighty kind of you to bring me the soup and the pie.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  She reached over and hugged the grandson who had been wrapped in secrets and excluded from their family acceptance. “Goodbye, my dear.”

  When Justin disappeared around the backyard path, Grandma slump
ed in her chair, hanging her head as great drops of regret fell from her all-knowing eyes.

  Chapter 32

  IVY VISITS HER PAST

  Russell found Barbara’s address in the Des Moines post office records. He told Ivy her mother lived at 609 Beckman Street, apartment 4. Her need to go to Des Moines and find her mother gnawed at Ivy until it floated in the back of her mind every waking moment and plagued her dreams at night. The chance to have the mother she yearned for all her life, even if she was imperfect, kept her thinking about how close she was to meeting Barbara Taylor. Ivy understood her mother because she knew all too well the fear of being trapped in Coffey, in a disappointing life she didn’t choose.

  She couldn’t wait any longer to find her mother. It was time.

  One morning, Ivy dropped Carly off at Patty’s and got in the Monstrosity. The rattle-trap sounds of the old camper truck remained her only connection to Nick. They hadn’t spoken in a long time. He was busy practicing law in New York. His father said he was doing well, but his heavy caseload prevented him from coming home. It was weird how Nick, the risk-taker, had ended up with a plan.

  Ivy put Nick’s Merle Haggard tape in the old eight-track player. She turned up the volume and drove through the gravel back roads of Coffey and onto Interstate 35 to Des Moines with the music blaring, to meet her mother. Her world was about to open up.

  When she reached Des Moines, she parked outside the rundown apartment building on 609 Beckman Street and took a deep breath as she got out. Anxious to face this ghost from her past, she hurried up the cracked sidewalk, dodging the broken concrete jutting up at all angles. The winter wind blew trash across the apartment’s small yard. The building looked almost abandoned.

  The warped front steps creaked and the railing wobbled as Ivy approached the front door of the building. She pushed open the peeling door and stepped into the tiny, dusty entryway. Ivy carefully climbed the rickety stairs, afraid that any minute the entire building would collapse on her like a house of cards.