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Katie
Part III
by James Adeniji
23/06/12
23/06/12
There had been a violent series of thunderstorms in the past few days. The Oklahoma plain always seemed to have the right conditions to display Mother Nature’s essence; the raging waters that sprung from her tears, her soothing voice that shook the earth, her ephemeral flashy radiance that shone brilliantly, and her soft sighs that set off the storm sirens. It had been a great week for storm chasers, especially since this level of activity was uncommon in late June. Storm chasers from Texas to Indiana found a reason to live in the month of May, when they greatest amount of Tornadoes were concentrated in the central plains. For them, the last few days were like the last great snowfall for skiers, you savor every last minute of it because it won’t be back for a while, you put away the Christmas tree and get back to work.
There had been at least one tornado and reports of possible funnel touchdowns in the Oklahoma City metro the last few days. True Okies went about their business, but with a sort of unconcerned caution. Mothers told their children to stay up until the tornado warnings lapsed, and be ready to get to the basement. The college students taking summer classes at the university in Norman stayed in and had a few beers with friends to pass the time. However, visitors from other regions of the country that happened to be in the Oklahoma City metro did not sleep. Every passing car sounded like a storm funnel, every drum of thunder that rattled the windows caused micro bouts of cardiac arrest, and every lightning strike seemed capable tearing the sky apart like the ripping of a piece of paper, causing the clouds to dissipate and stars racing to the ground. The visitors pestered their hotel managers, their hosts, their friends, and 911 operators for fear of Armageddon.
Katie loved the storms. The week before, she relished in anticipation on hearing the news of an approaching cold front. After Mother Nature’s monologue ended, there would surely be fine weather for a few days. Yes, Mother Nature, after that last stanza, would pack up her script and tour east to give less inspiring productions. While Katie enjoyed Mother Nature’s visit, she had also been trying to enjoy her own mother’s long-term stay. She had become used to living on her own after Annie moved away. She certainly enjoyed having a place to rendezvous with Jeff. She found the alternative plans they had been making for their hook-ups a little inconvenient. She felt like she was in high school again, sneaking off in the middle of the night to have clandestine liaisons. Not only did mother dearest impede on her love life, she also advised on every other facet of her existence. Her house was not good enough, neither was her job, nor her attitude.
“Where were you last night? You came in pretty late.” Katie’s mother sat at the small dining table half reading the paper, half giving her daughter the maternal eye, as she sipped her coffee.
“Just hanging with some friends.” Katie sat cross-legged on her couch eating her bowl of cereal and trying to ignore her mother. She could not stand the barrage of questions that her mother put her though every morning at breakfast. Her mother always got up first, and woke her up with the loud whistle of the kettle. Katie thought that her mother often delayed turning the kettle off on purpose. Her mother always had the newspaper first. Katie preferred virgin newspapers. If she ever forgot to pick up the Oklahoma Daily on her way to class, but found one on the chair next to her when she settled in the classroom, she would always run out and get a fresh one.
“You kids these days. Young ladies never kept these hours when I was younger. Actually, some of them did, and we had a name for them.” She sipped some more coffee, and continued reading the paper.
There were a few replies that Katie could have given her mother. Many thoughts ran through her head. She questioned why she agreed to have her mother live with her. Sure, she did not have rent troubles now that her mother had taken the responsibility, but at what cost? She decided to ignore the comment and continue eating her cereal.
“Your father and I were pretty concerned when you were off crusading Europe. I just never said anything. Going here and there. Lord knows where you slept or what you ate. I try not to think of the strange people you met when she was backpacking. You kids tend to be a bit too liberal for my tastes. I just don’t think that this lifestyle that you hold so dear to your heart is sustainable. I remember when your sister tried to do the same thing, said she’d go away forever, but I tell ya, sleeping in parks, and hitchhiking here and there can only be enjoyable for so long. I told ya this when ya got back. You kids think you know it all, that you can solve your problems alone. Take your sister, when she went off on her little trip, sure got a rude awakening one day when some guy she had been travelling with made off with her money. Paris ain’t always quite the romantic city.” Katie’s mother lifted her head out of the paper and then turned to her daughter, “anyway, she’s happily married with kids now.”
“That was her experience mom. You just can’t make generalizations based on her experience. I choose my destiny,” Katie replied to her mother’s statement, insulted.
“Anyway Katie, we’re going to need to get some things from the basement of the old house before they change the locks. I completely forgot about them, but there’re some things that belonged to your father. He always kept junk, never let me get rid of anything. So, if you can take time out of your busy schedule to come with me to the city, I would appreciate it.” She spoke to Katie, not taking her eyes off the paper the entire time. There was no response. “You heard what I said Katie?”
“Yea, I will go with you to the city to get dad’s stuff! God!” She stormed into the kitchen and threw her bowl in the sink, chipping its rim a little.”
“Feel free to do what you want with your china, Katie, but let’s not use the Lord’s name in vain, okay?”
“I’m going for a run. We’ll go to the city when I’m back.”
“I’ll be ready.” She took another sip of her tea, and turned to the sports section.
The weather was pleasant. Behind the cold front that passed yesterday, were sunny skies and little humidity. Katie felt great to be out running again. She ran north on Flood Street, and then east when she got to Main Street. The sun still had a lazy orange glow, and was just beginning its ascent from the northeast. Main Street was quiet at seven in the morning, for a weekday. She ran by all the quaint stores that had not opened yet. She stopped to catch her breath while she waited at the railroad crossing for the train to pass. It seemed to take forever; there was always one more railcar. She stared at each car as they whizzed by. The spaces in between the cars soon made her dizzy. She stretched down and touched her toes. Finally, the train had passed, the gates went up, and everyone could move again. Ten minutes later, Katie was sitting on a bench on the university’s North Oval. The weather was still pleasant, and she felt she could just lie there and sleep. She had not been out for very long. She thought of how she could prolong her stay away from the house. She felt that there was a minimum detox period she had to take at many different times during the course of a day so her mother did not drive her crazy. A feeble cool breeze blew across her face, prompting a sigh. It was a happy sigh.
After sprinting back to her place, Katie braced herself for more maternal madness as she opened the front door. It was quiet, save the singing.
As I went down to the river to pray,
Studying about that good ole way,
And who shall wear the starry crown,
Good Lord, show me the way.
The singing startled her. She could not recall ever having heard her mother sing, so she thought someone else might be in her house, but as she listened more carefully to the melodic chants coming from the direction of her mother’s bathroom, the evidence was indisputable. She went to the kitchen sink to get some water. She felt euphoric as the cool liquid quenched her thirst. The newspapers were finally available to be read albeit deflowered. She sensed her mother as she turned the wrinkled pages of the Norman Transcript. She pulled the paper closer to her face to smell it well. Yes, that was her mother. She pondered how her mother left a scent on the newspaper, and the tablecloth. Katie scooted back in her chair and brought the cloth up to her nose, mama.
Oh sisters, lets go down.
Lets go down, come on down.
Oh sisters, lets go down.
Down to the river to pray.
Katie could not stop sniffing the tablecloth. It was fast proving to be addictive. She wanted more. Her mother was still singing, and the water was still on, so she ran to her mother’s room. She opened the door and was overwhelmed by, lilacs? That is what she thought it was, lilacs. Her mother’s natural scent, which she could not describe or quite place but she knew it was there, coupled with lilacs. She was drowning in her mother’s scent. Katie wondered why she had not sensed it before. Her mother had been at the house almost three weeks, and this was the first time that she consciously noted the scent. She wiped her sweaty forehead. On her mother’s dresser was the bottle of perfume she normally used. It was the same bottle she had always used ever since she could remember. It was a fancy, jeweled bottle, with a push pump and tasseled top. When Katie was younger, she wasted her mother’s perfume pretending that she was a genie and that the bottle was her home. She sat down at her mother’s dresser, and saw herself in the mirror. There was a frighteningly close resemblance to her mother. She sprayed some of the perfume on her chest. She reminisced playing dress up with her mother’s clothes while her parents were out, and playing artist with mascara and lipstick. She smiled to herself. She checked to make sure her mother was still in the bathroom.
Oh mothers, lets go down.
Let’s go down, won’t ya come down.
Oh Mothers, lets go down.
Down to the river to pray.
Katie ran back to her mother’s room and jumped on the bed. She rolled around in the sheets. She sat up and inhaled the duvet cover, and then collapsed back on the pillow smiling. She took the pillow and hugged it tightly. She stopped smiling, and just lay there. Tears began to well up in her eyes, but she would not let herself cry, not now. She heard the bathroom door open, and her mother humming to herself. She quickly got out of the bed and began stripping the sheets.
“What the hell are you doing Katie?”
“I was going to do some laundry, but I did not have as many things to make it worth running the washer, so I thought I might as well get your sheets cleaned. They smelled dirty.”
“I don’t think they’re that bad, but go ahead.” She wore a plush bathrobe, and had wrapped her head in a towel. She let her turban wrap come undone, and ran her hands through her graying blond hair.
“What time do you want to go to the house?”
“Soon. As soon as I’m dressed. Just want to do it early and get it over with.”
“Okay.”
“Katie?”
“Yea?” Katie turned back, her hands full of sheets, as she exited her mother’s room.
“Thank you.”
Katie enjoyed the imposing smell of her mother on the drive to Oklahoma City. Travelling north on 35 had never been such a sensual experience. Soon they had pulled up to the old big house in Nichols Hills. Katie thought the street names were overly pretentious as they were all English names- Coventry Lane, Dorchester Avenue. The old house looked bigger without all the furniture. The empty space created an echo with every step of Katie’s mother’s stilettos. Katie wandered about to see the other empty rooms, as her mother went down to the basement. Katie remembered the first night she spent in the house. She slept on a mattress on the floor for a couple of weeks, because her mother wanted the house to be tastefully furnished. She was happy that she would off to college soon, so she wouldn’t be around for mom’s feng shui, or whatever ambiance she was trying to create. Heaven forbid their family name be synonymous with bourgeois or nouveau riche. Her mother had recently quit her job as an administrator in a posh private school in Plano. She spent the next few years making the house a home. She actually did a lot of the work herself, and consulted with gardeners, plumbers, and electricians when necessary. She did things herself for many reasons; although she wanted to build a new life in their new social status, she did not want to become like the other wives, jazzercising in the morning, lunching in the afternoons, and soiréeing in the evenings. Although bringing the home up to spec would take most of her time, she thought she also needed other distractions. After Katie went off to college, she began subbing at Casady. At first, she thought she was selling her soul to the devil, but they would pay her much more than Mount St. Mary’s would. Besides, Jesus probably loved Protestants as much as he loved Catholics. She imagined Martin Luther and Paul VI playing chess in heaven, and talking about their contributions to reforming the faith.
“Katie, come down here. I need your help!”
“Comin’!”
The basement still had a lot of stuff in it. Most of it seemed like junk to Katie. There were marked boxes; most of them had her mother’s name on them. Her father’s old golf clubs were in a corner. She saw some of her brother’s old toys about. Very old toys, in fact- Legos, K’nex, train sets- everything a boy should play with to be considered manly. Katie never actually had any toys of her own. She got the best of both worlds passed down from her elder siblings. Although they could have afforded it, they had so much leftover from the maturity of their previous children that it did not make much sense to buy more stuff, and besides Katie did not seem to mind too much. She realized that she had never actually been down to the basement, even in stormy April or May. They always thought that their house was too beautiful to be destroyed.
“I just need to look through some of this stuff to see what I’d like to keep. You should do the same. The rest will just get hauled off to Goodwill or the Salvation Army or whatever. Your brother and sister don’t care about what’s down here, so finder’s a keeper.”
“Mom, this box is full of panties. These yours?”
“Yeah, I really hate to run out of underwear. I hate it so much. It’s like, you shower and you wanna get dressed, and there’s no clean underwear. Finally, the last time that happened, I made it a point to always have an emergency pack, so if that ever happened I’d have a fresh pair till I got around to doing laundry. So, I’d always buy a new pack every time I opened an emergency pack. Although, a few times, I’d just go commando till my panties got out of the dryer. The warmth of a fresh pair out of the dryer always redeemed the disappointment of not readily having clean underwear. It feels really good.”
Katie looked at her mother in disbelief.
“Yea, I’m definitely going to need that box. You can never have too much of a good thing. The other day I ran out of clean undies, so I just wore your father’s old pair.”
“There’s no way you fit into dad’s boxers, mom”
“Well, I mean, I just felt like I needed something else down there, so it doesn’t really matter, and my jeans held them up anyway. It was just for a couple hours. The other day after the wake, I went into the guest bedroom where your brother had put your father to rest. To rest! Anyway, I stood by the door and cried of course. I remember when we first got married. He was so handsome. He always had a nice tint to his skin in the summers while everyone else burned. He never used sunscreen. He was incredibly athletic, and he had the body to show. He was that sixties cliché of American male beauty. I remember the way his hair would always slick into the perfect position whenever he came out of pools or oceans. That was the man I fell in love with. Then I built my family with a raging workaholic, who always came in late, and never ate dinner with his family. He would always have a cigarette and a can of beer out on the back porch before I microwaved his plate, and kept him company after we both had a long tiring day. Yes, there was the occasional romantic spasm; Valentine’s Day, our birthdays, and New Year’s if we had had enough to drink, but not too much. I went and sat on the bed. It felt surreal being alone in the house with my dead husband. I buffed a scuff off his shiny black shoes with my thumb. I could not believe that I had become a widow, and just like that it was all over. Death had done us apart. I remember saying those words, but never thought about it. It’s like something you think never happens, or just happens to other people. One beautiful day, we’ll be reunited, however that works. I don’t know what I’m saying, but it has to be true. I don’t think I would have spent half of this life with him without some guarantee that I could spend eternity with him. I laid on the bed next him, and took his hand. It was like being in a fairy tale, and waiting for a spell to make everything right again.”
South winds from the Gulf blew maritime tropic air, hot and moist, to the central plains states. Norman had been transformed into the great outdoor sauna. The humidity kept some people inside. Some people welcomed the heat. Several days of hundred-degree weather had made everyone’s tan lines too evident. Afternoon swimming parties were commonplace and necessary. The state’s heroes braved the inferno- mailmen, and Mexicans on roofs. The national weather service issued a severe weather alert for many of the Oklahoma counties. Sadly, there were stories on the news of toddlers locked in cars, and the elderly expiring due to heat strokes. Relief finally came in the form of a cold front that would bring thunderstorms to the area and cool temperatures back into the nineties. Katie sat on her couch listening to the forecast on the local news, and yelled to tell her mother the good news. Their relationship had improved in the last few weeks. Katie’s mother felt completely at home in her new place, and had started working at the Wal-Mart Supercenter by I-35. She thought it was just something to occupy herself with while she waited for replies from Norman Public Schools about a few vacancies she replied to. Katie thought that she did this to distract herself from the grief of losing a husband. They both went about their business, never once mentioning her father. Katie’s mother even stopped asking about where she snuck off to at odd hours of the day. They lived as perfectly diplomatic housemates, enjoying their unspoken don’t ask don’t tell policy.
A weak line of thunderstorms moved past the Oklahoma City metro that weekend. Katie wouldn’t have known that there was any rain if not for the dampened streets and newspapers she saw in the mornings. The air felt so fresh from Sunday morning, and everyone was eager to continue enjoying the summer. Katie had thought about her last meeting with Mandy, and was anxious to see her again. They had been such good friends since elementary school, but went their separate ways since Katie went away to college. They used to be inseparable, and did everything together. She longed to be part of Mandy’s life again. Katie invited her mother to come out with herself and Mandy to Libby’s, a bar in Goldsby, just south of the Canadian river. A folk music quartet met there and played on the balcony every Wednesday. She thought they could all use some fresh air, cold beer, and live music. Just the girls. Jeff’s wife had been in town for an especially long time the past couple of weeks, and his kids were busy with all sorts of activities, that it had been difficult for them to meet at all. However, they found time to express their love at odd hours in odd places. It was perversely exciting at first, and then it became unnecessary, and inconvenient. After their last meeting, she suggested that they take a trip, or wait until his wife took one. He said that he was too busy to leave town, and that he should not have to travel to get laid. She rolled her eyes as she took a drag of her cigarette. He grinned and leaned forward to kiss her. That was last week, in the heat. She returned home at about five in the morning, tired and sweating, asking herself if it was all worth it. An evening out with her mother and Mandy would get her mind off her lover.
In addition to the best live music in McClain County, Libby’s boasted maybe the best catfish in McClain county. Mandy had ordered all-you-can eat catfish, which the menu had asked clients not to share. Mandy pointed out this violation as Katie took a second bite from her plate. The evening began to grow darker and there was a bright orange sunset to the west. Katie could see far across the country plain from the balcony. The clouds made curious shapes in the sky, and there was a gentle breeze that made sitting outside that much more enjoyable. The band had been playing since the ladies arrived at Libby’s. The music was upbeat. They played their original compositions along with well-known covers. Some people in the audience sang along. Katie’s mother really enjoyed the music. She ordered another round of beers for everyone.
The deep orange in the sky turned bright lavender, then deep purple. About half an hour later, the sky was black and the stars twinkled as the band played a Johnny Cash song. Katie’s mother was drunk, and was dancing in front of the band. It started off very innocent. Some people even joined her. The music was great, but after a few more drinks, her steps became less coordinated. She stumbled all over the place, and drove the dancers back to their seats. Katie was mortified by her mother’s behavior and tried to lead her back to their table discretely. Her mother was not easily persuaded back to her seat. She struggled a little bit at first, but then she cooperated. She fell into her chair and began to fan herself.
“Damn girls, I’m a workin’ up a sweat with all this dancin’. Who wants another drink?”
“Mom, I think you’ve spent enough money here.”
“Then you buy me a drink, although I should let you know that I can buy as many drinks as I want with the insurance money I’m getting!”
“Don’t say that mom.” Katie was embarrassed. She told her mother to keep her voice down.
“Don’t you tell me to hush. I’m your mother,” she whispered sternly. “I’m done being a fucking housewife, and a do-gooder, caring about the homeless, and the hungry, and the clothesless. I just wanna dance right now. Is that too much to fucking ask?”
Katie never heard her mother use that type of language. It was scary to hear her talk like that. She let her mother go and sat back in the chair. Mandy sat back on the other end of the table with her feet up on a chair in front of her, enjoying a cigarette. Tired of being the adult in the group, Katie stopped restraining her mother, who leapt back up on the floor and to dance some more. It felt as if each song the quartet played was directed at her. She was the sweetheart that the lead singer left back in Georgia. She was his mother who took him to church every Sunday. She was the sister he saved from that no good bastard, Bobby Ray. She was the daughter that made everyday worth living. She felt an intimate connection with all the words, and the more intimate she thought the music became, the more she violated their personal space. They were all young. One of them was a strapping young man, his hair combed neatly and his shirt unbuttoned low enough to reveal a rugged chest, leaving little to the imagination of women in the audience. She was tempted to tear open his shirt right there and then. She danced slowly as he sang. She tried to sing into his microphone, but he politely pushed her back. Sitting on a stool next to the Casanova was a cute young man. He might have been the youngest of the group. He was scrawny, which added to his boyish charm. She felt his face as he sang as if she was a blind woman trying to make out the features of her lover. She kissed him on the cheek. He made an inappropriate joke about her being a sexual predator. Everyone laughed. Katie sat in her chair humiliated beyond repair. Katie’s mother sat on the floor teary-eyed as she listened to bachelor number three crooning his cover of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. She stared into his strained brown eyes as the song got emotional. An elderly gentleman in the front row that reminded Katie of Willie nelson rocked himself as if listening to a lullaby. The audience waited for the last guitar chord, and after a second of silence, they cheered and whistled with all their might. Mandy paused her clapping to wipe away a tear. Katie’s mother was overwhelmed by the amazing rendition of the song. She could not contain herself any longer. She stood up, lunged forward, and assaulted the singer with a kiss. He tried to push her back, but she was determined to make love to him right there and then. She held his head in place and licked around his mouth, as he had hidden his lips in his mouth. She laughed hysterically at the tease. The fourth member of the quartet came out to the balcony from the bar when he saw what was happening, and pulled her back from the waist with the help of an audience member. She held on to the singer’s arm, and as he tried to let go, she bit his forearm. He yelled. She did not intend to draw blood. Rather, she wanted to express her primal affection for him, to thank him for the song.
“Let go lady!”
“I love you! I love you!” She echoed the words as she was dragged out from the balcony, and into the bar. Katie rushed to the bar to try and comfort her mother, and apologize to the men. Mandy sat forward with her eyes wide, and both hands covering her mouth in horror, but secretly enjoying the scene.
“I’m not sure I ever been bit b’fore.” The singer rubbed his arm smiling, as he spoke to the audience and his band mates.
“Better go get you a tetanus shot,” the baby-faced member replied. The audience laughed. Minutes later, they continued playing as if nothing had happened.
“What the hell is wrong with you mother?”
Katie’s mother did not reply, she picked herself up, and hopped on a barstool.
“Can we have a glass of water please?” The bartender nodded with a smile and fetched Katie a glass. “Have you lost your mind? What is the meaning of this?”
“Child, let me be.” She stammered to complete her sentence and after a sipping on the glass of water. She laid her head down on the counter. Mandy came into the bar to check on them.
“I think we should leave.”
“We ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Katie’s mother got up from the stool, and walked back to their table on the balcony, ignoring Katie’s call to remain in the bar. Katie gave her a come back here right now look in lieu of yelling at her, but she simply shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. She cheered with the rest of the audience as the group finished playing a song.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve been an awesome crowd tonight.” His other band mates acknowledged the fact as the audience cheered and whistled. “We’re so glad you’re here. This might be the most people that’s ever come, and you’ve made tonight really special for us. You’re the best crowd ever.” The audience cheered and whistled again. “Like you might already know, we’re here every Wednesday night, and we play till we you get too tired to listen or we get too drunk to play.” The crowd cheered and whistled. “Sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed our songs and covers. We love your energy.” The crowd cheered and whistled. “Well, some of us, some of you, need to maybe move on home and get a good night’s rest. The next song is about life, the great journey. We’re all going somewhere. We can either sit and be taken to our destination, or we can search, and discover lots of things along the way. Anyway, don’t want to wax philosophical on y’all, but we all know what it feels like to finally get home after a long tired journey.” The crowd whistled and cheered. “I know I love to come home after touring on the road to my beautiful girlfriend and our beautiful daughter over there.” He pointed to a very pretty young lady, not more than twenty-five, sitting in the middle of the balcony with an angelic toddler in her lap. The little girl had the fairest skin and the curliest blond hair in all the land. The crowd cheered and whistled. “Yea, that’s right, you’re daddy’s little princess.”
Then one of his band mates remarked, “Folks, it’s amazing how something so damn ugly like my man here can make something incredibly beautiful like that little girl.” The crowd cheered and whistled. The quartet began to strum their guitars, and then followed the loud, piercing harmonica.
I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger
trav'ling through this world of below.
there's no sickness, toil nor danger
In that bright world to which I go.
I'm going there to meet my father
I'm going there no more to roam;
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home.
I know dark clouds will gather o'er me
I know my pathway's rough and steep;
But golden fields lie out before me
Where weary eyes no more shall weep.
I'm going there to see my mother
She said she'd meet me when I come
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home.
I'll soon be free from every trial
This form will rest beneath the sod
I'll drop the cross of self denial,
And enter in my home with God.
I'm going there to see my Saviour
Who shed for me His precious blood
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home.
I want to wear a crown of glory
When I get home to that bright land
I want to shout Salvation's story
In concert with that bloodwashed band.
I'm going there to meet my Saviour
To sing His praises forevermore
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home.
Katie’s mother lay in the back of the car on the drive back home. Katie chastised her mother the entire journey back home, although she had dozed off as soon as they set for home. Katie realised this when she turned back to see if her mother was listening to her, but found her asleep. She continued to vent her frustration regardless. She said a lot of angry words that Katie’s mother half-registered in her coma-like state. The words did not mean anything, not because they were not understood, but because angry words never mean anything. She dreamed. She was trying to remember what it felt like to be young again, to be strong, to not give a damn. She wanted to remember how it felt like to fall in love. She did not feel old per se. Her skin had wrinkled some, and she could not move around as fast is she used to. She thought that she was still fairly active. She did not really do old people things yet, just the same things she had always enjoyed doing. Her mind did not feel like it had aged. She shuddered at her recent display of juvenile behavior. She had been a wife for so long, that she felt stripped of a part of her identity, robbed of a prerogative even. She felt useless. She felt that her children did not want a mother; after all they were parents themselves. She felt alone.
There had been at least one tornado and reports of possible funnel touchdowns in the Oklahoma City metro the last few days. True Okies went about their business, but with a sort of unconcerned caution. Mothers told their children to stay up until the tornado warnings lapsed, and be ready to get to the basement. The college students taking summer classes at the university in Norman stayed in and had a few beers with friends to pass the time. However, visitors from other regions of the country that happened to be in the Oklahoma City metro did not sleep. Every passing car sounded like a storm funnel, every drum of thunder that rattled the windows caused micro bouts of cardiac arrest, and every lightning strike seemed capable tearing the sky apart like the ripping of a piece of paper, causing the clouds to dissipate and stars racing to the ground. The visitors pestered their hotel managers, their hosts, their friends, and 911 operators for fear of Armageddon.
Katie loved the storms. The week before, she relished in anticipation on hearing the news of an approaching cold front. After Mother Nature’s monologue ended, there would surely be fine weather for a few days. Yes, Mother Nature, after that last stanza, would pack up her script and tour east to give less inspiring productions. While Katie enjoyed Mother Nature’s visit, she had also been trying to enjoy her own mother’s long-term stay. She had become used to living on her own after Annie moved away. She certainly enjoyed having a place to rendezvous with Jeff. She found the alternative plans they had been making for their hook-ups a little inconvenient. She felt like she was in high school again, sneaking off in the middle of the night to have clandestine liaisons. Not only did mother dearest impede on her love life, she also advised on every other facet of her existence. Her house was not good enough, neither was her job, nor her attitude.
“Where were you last night? You came in pretty late.” Katie’s mother sat at the small dining table half reading the paper, half giving her daughter the maternal eye, as she sipped her coffee.
“Just hanging with some friends.” Katie sat cross-legged on her couch eating her bowl of cereal and trying to ignore her mother. She could not stand the barrage of questions that her mother put her though every morning at breakfast. Her mother always got up first, and woke her up with the loud whistle of the kettle. Katie thought that her mother often delayed turning the kettle off on purpose. Her mother always had the newspaper first. Katie preferred virgin newspapers. If she ever forgot to pick up the Oklahoma Daily on her way to class, but found one on the chair next to her when she settled in the classroom, she would always run out and get a fresh one.
“You kids these days. Young ladies never kept these hours when I was younger. Actually, some of them did, and we had a name for them.” She sipped some more coffee, and continued reading the paper.
There were a few replies that Katie could have given her mother. Many thoughts ran through her head. She questioned why she agreed to have her mother live with her. Sure, she did not have rent troubles now that her mother had taken the responsibility, but at what cost? She decided to ignore the comment and continue eating her cereal.
“Your father and I were pretty concerned when you were off crusading Europe. I just never said anything. Going here and there. Lord knows where you slept or what you ate. I try not to think of the strange people you met when she was backpacking. You kids tend to be a bit too liberal for my tastes. I just don’t think that this lifestyle that you hold so dear to your heart is sustainable. I remember when your sister tried to do the same thing, said she’d go away forever, but I tell ya, sleeping in parks, and hitchhiking here and there can only be enjoyable for so long. I told ya this when ya got back. You kids think you know it all, that you can solve your problems alone. Take your sister, when she went off on her little trip, sure got a rude awakening one day when some guy she had been travelling with made off with her money. Paris ain’t always quite the romantic city.” Katie’s mother lifted her head out of the paper and then turned to her daughter, “anyway, she’s happily married with kids now.”
“That was her experience mom. You just can’t make generalizations based on her experience. I choose my destiny,” Katie replied to her mother’s statement, insulted.
“Anyway Katie, we’re going to need to get some things from the basement of the old house before they change the locks. I completely forgot about them, but there’re some things that belonged to your father. He always kept junk, never let me get rid of anything. So, if you can take time out of your busy schedule to come with me to the city, I would appreciate it.” She spoke to Katie, not taking her eyes off the paper the entire time. There was no response. “You heard what I said Katie?”
“Yea, I will go with you to the city to get dad’s stuff! God!” She stormed into the kitchen and threw her bowl in the sink, chipping its rim a little.”
“Feel free to do what you want with your china, Katie, but let’s not use the Lord’s name in vain, okay?”
“I’m going for a run. We’ll go to the city when I’m back.”
“I’ll be ready.” She took another sip of her tea, and turned to the sports section.
The weather was pleasant. Behind the cold front that passed yesterday, were sunny skies and little humidity. Katie felt great to be out running again. She ran north on Flood Street, and then east when she got to Main Street. The sun still had a lazy orange glow, and was just beginning its ascent from the northeast. Main Street was quiet at seven in the morning, for a weekday. She ran by all the quaint stores that had not opened yet. She stopped to catch her breath while she waited at the railroad crossing for the train to pass. It seemed to take forever; there was always one more railcar. She stared at each car as they whizzed by. The spaces in between the cars soon made her dizzy. She stretched down and touched her toes. Finally, the train had passed, the gates went up, and everyone could move again. Ten minutes later, Katie was sitting on a bench on the university’s North Oval. The weather was still pleasant, and she felt she could just lie there and sleep. She had not been out for very long. She thought of how she could prolong her stay away from the house. She felt that there was a minimum detox period she had to take at many different times during the course of a day so her mother did not drive her crazy. A feeble cool breeze blew across her face, prompting a sigh. It was a happy sigh.
After sprinting back to her place, Katie braced herself for more maternal madness as she opened the front door. It was quiet, save the singing.
As I went down to the river to pray,
Studying about that good ole way,
And who shall wear the starry crown,
Good Lord, show me the way.
The singing startled her. She could not recall ever having heard her mother sing, so she thought someone else might be in her house, but as she listened more carefully to the melodic chants coming from the direction of her mother’s bathroom, the evidence was indisputable. She went to the kitchen sink to get some water. She felt euphoric as the cool liquid quenched her thirst. The newspapers were finally available to be read albeit deflowered. She sensed her mother as she turned the wrinkled pages of the Norman Transcript. She pulled the paper closer to her face to smell it well. Yes, that was her mother. She pondered how her mother left a scent on the newspaper, and the tablecloth. Katie scooted back in her chair and brought the cloth up to her nose, mama.
Oh sisters, lets go down.
Lets go down, come on down.
Oh sisters, lets go down.
Down to the river to pray.
Katie could not stop sniffing the tablecloth. It was fast proving to be addictive. She wanted more. Her mother was still singing, and the water was still on, so she ran to her mother’s room. She opened the door and was overwhelmed by, lilacs? That is what she thought it was, lilacs. Her mother’s natural scent, which she could not describe or quite place but she knew it was there, coupled with lilacs. She was drowning in her mother’s scent. Katie wondered why she had not sensed it before. Her mother had been at the house almost three weeks, and this was the first time that she consciously noted the scent. She wiped her sweaty forehead. On her mother’s dresser was the bottle of perfume she normally used. It was the same bottle she had always used ever since she could remember. It was a fancy, jeweled bottle, with a push pump and tasseled top. When Katie was younger, she wasted her mother’s perfume pretending that she was a genie and that the bottle was her home. She sat down at her mother’s dresser, and saw herself in the mirror. There was a frighteningly close resemblance to her mother. She sprayed some of the perfume on her chest. She reminisced playing dress up with her mother’s clothes while her parents were out, and playing artist with mascara and lipstick. She smiled to herself. She checked to make sure her mother was still in the bathroom.
Oh mothers, lets go down.
Let’s go down, won’t ya come down.
Oh Mothers, lets go down.
Down to the river to pray.
Katie ran back to her mother’s room and jumped on the bed. She rolled around in the sheets. She sat up and inhaled the duvet cover, and then collapsed back on the pillow smiling. She took the pillow and hugged it tightly. She stopped smiling, and just lay there. Tears began to well up in her eyes, but she would not let herself cry, not now. She heard the bathroom door open, and her mother humming to herself. She quickly got out of the bed and began stripping the sheets.
“What the hell are you doing Katie?”
“I was going to do some laundry, but I did not have as many things to make it worth running the washer, so I thought I might as well get your sheets cleaned. They smelled dirty.”
“I don’t think they’re that bad, but go ahead.” She wore a plush bathrobe, and had wrapped her head in a towel. She let her turban wrap come undone, and ran her hands through her graying blond hair.
“What time do you want to go to the house?”
“Soon. As soon as I’m dressed. Just want to do it early and get it over with.”
“Okay.”
“Katie?”
“Yea?” Katie turned back, her hands full of sheets, as she exited her mother’s room.
“Thank you.”
Katie enjoyed the imposing smell of her mother on the drive to Oklahoma City. Travelling north on 35 had never been such a sensual experience. Soon they had pulled up to the old big house in Nichols Hills. Katie thought the street names were overly pretentious as they were all English names- Coventry Lane, Dorchester Avenue. The old house looked bigger without all the furniture. The empty space created an echo with every step of Katie’s mother’s stilettos. Katie wandered about to see the other empty rooms, as her mother went down to the basement. Katie remembered the first night she spent in the house. She slept on a mattress on the floor for a couple of weeks, because her mother wanted the house to be tastefully furnished. She was happy that she would off to college soon, so she wouldn’t be around for mom’s feng shui, or whatever ambiance she was trying to create. Heaven forbid their family name be synonymous with bourgeois or nouveau riche. Her mother had recently quit her job as an administrator in a posh private school in Plano. She spent the next few years making the house a home. She actually did a lot of the work herself, and consulted with gardeners, plumbers, and electricians when necessary. She did things herself for many reasons; although she wanted to build a new life in their new social status, she did not want to become like the other wives, jazzercising in the morning, lunching in the afternoons, and soiréeing in the evenings. Although bringing the home up to spec would take most of her time, she thought she also needed other distractions. After Katie went off to college, she began subbing at Casady. At first, she thought she was selling her soul to the devil, but they would pay her much more than Mount St. Mary’s would. Besides, Jesus probably loved Protestants as much as he loved Catholics. She imagined Martin Luther and Paul VI playing chess in heaven, and talking about their contributions to reforming the faith.
“Katie, come down here. I need your help!”
“Comin’!”
The basement still had a lot of stuff in it. Most of it seemed like junk to Katie. There were marked boxes; most of them had her mother’s name on them. Her father’s old golf clubs were in a corner. She saw some of her brother’s old toys about. Very old toys, in fact- Legos, K’nex, train sets- everything a boy should play with to be considered manly. Katie never actually had any toys of her own. She got the best of both worlds passed down from her elder siblings. Although they could have afforded it, they had so much leftover from the maturity of their previous children that it did not make much sense to buy more stuff, and besides Katie did not seem to mind too much. She realized that she had never actually been down to the basement, even in stormy April or May. They always thought that their house was too beautiful to be destroyed.
“I just need to look through some of this stuff to see what I’d like to keep. You should do the same. The rest will just get hauled off to Goodwill or the Salvation Army or whatever. Your brother and sister don’t care about what’s down here, so finder’s a keeper.”
“Mom, this box is full of panties. These yours?”
“Yeah, I really hate to run out of underwear. I hate it so much. It’s like, you shower and you wanna get dressed, and there’s no clean underwear. Finally, the last time that happened, I made it a point to always have an emergency pack, so if that ever happened I’d have a fresh pair till I got around to doing laundry. So, I’d always buy a new pack every time I opened an emergency pack. Although, a few times, I’d just go commando till my panties got out of the dryer. The warmth of a fresh pair out of the dryer always redeemed the disappointment of not readily having clean underwear. It feels really good.”
Katie looked at her mother in disbelief.
“Yea, I’m definitely going to need that box. You can never have too much of a good thing. The other day I ran out of clean undies, so I just wore your father’s old pair.”
“There’s no way you fit into dad’s boxers, mom”
“Well, I mean, I just felt like I needed something else down there, so it doesn’t really matter, and my jeans held them up anyway. It was just for a couple hours. The other day after the wake, I went into the guest bedroom where your brother had put your father to rest. To rest! Anyway, I stood by the door and cried of course. I remember when we first got married. He was so handsome. He always had a nice tint to his skin in the summers while everyone else burned. He never used sunscreen. He was incredibly athletic, and he had the body to show. He was that sixties cliché of American male beauty. I remember the way his hair would always slick into the perfect position whenever he came out of pools or oceans. That was the man I fell in love with. Then I built my family with a raging workaholic, who always came in late, and never ate dinner with his family. He would always have a cigarette and a can of beer out on the back porch before I microwaved his plate, and kept him company after we both had a long tiring day. Yes, there was the occasional romantic spasm; Valentine’s Day, our birthdays, and New Year’s if we had had enough to drink, but not too much. I went and sat on the bed. It felt surreal being alone in the house with my dead husband. I buffed a scuff off his shiny black shoes with my thumb. I could not believe that I had become a widow, and just like that it was all over. Death had done us apart. I remember saying those words, but never thought about it. It’s like something you think never happens, or just happens to other people. One beautiful day, we’ll be reunited, however that works. I don’t know what I’m saying, but it has to be true. I don’t think I would have spent half of this life with him without some guarantee that I could spend eternity with him. I laid on the bed next him, and took his hand. It was like being in a fairy tale, and waiting for a spell to make everything right again.”
South winds from the Gulf blew maritime tropic air, hot and moist, to the central plains states. Norman had been transformed into the great outdoor sauna. The humidity kept some people inside. Some people welcomed the heat. Several days of hundred-degree weather had made everyone’s tan lines too evident. Afternoon swimming parties were commonplace and necessary. The state’s heroes braved the inferno- mailmen, and Mexicans on roofs. The national weather service issued a severe weather alert for many of the Oklahoma counties. Sadly, there were stories on the news of toddlers locked in cars, and the elderly expiring due to heat strokes. Relief finally came in the form of a cold front that would bring thunderstorms to the area and cool temperatures back into the nineties. Katie sat on her couch listening to the forecast on the local news, and yelled to tell her mother the good news. Their relationship had improved in the last few weeks. Katie’s mother felt completely at home in her new place, and had started working at the Wal-Mart Supercenter by I-35. She thought it was just something to occupy herself with while she waited for replies from Norman Public Schools about a few vacancies she replied to. Katie thought that she did this to distract herself from the grief of losing a husband. They both went about their business, never once mentioning her father. Katie’s mother even stopped asking about where she snuck off to at odd hours of the day. They lived as perfectly diplomatic housemates, enjoying their unspoken don’t ask don’t tell policy.
A weak line of thunderstorms moved past the Oklahoma City metro that weekend. Katie wouldn’t have known that there was any rain if not for the dampened streets and newspapers she saw in the mornings. The air felt so fresh from Sunday morning, and everyone was eager to continue enjoying the summer. Katie had thought about her last meeting with Mandy, and was anxious to see her again. They had been such good friends since elementary school, but went their separate ways since Katie went away to college. They used to be inseparable, and did everything together. She longed to be part of Mandy’s life again. Katie invited her mother to come out with herself and Mandy to Libby’s, a bar in Goldsby, just south of the Canadian river. A folk music quartet met there and played on the balcony every Wednesday. She thought they could all use some fresh air, cold beer, and live music. Just the girls. Jeff’s wife had been in town for an especially long time the past couple of weeks, and his kids were busy with all sorts of activities, that it had been difficult for them to meet at all. However, they found time to express their love at odd hours in odd places. It was perversely exciting at first, and then it became unnecessary, and inconvenient. After their last meeting, she suggested that they take a trip, or wait until his wife took one. He said that he was too busy to leave town, and that he should not have to travel to get laid. She rolled her eyes as she took a drag of her cigarette. He grinned and leaned forward to kiss her. That was last week, in the heat. She returned home at about five in the morning, tired and sweating, asking herself if it was all worth it. An evening out with her mother and Mandy would get her mind off her lover.
In addition to the best live music in McClain County, Libby’s boasted maybe the best catfish in McClain county. Mandy had ordered all-you-can eat catfish, which the menu had asked clients not to share. Mandy pointed out this violation as Katie took a second bite from her plate. The evening began to grow darker and there was a bright orange sunset to the west. Katie could see far across the country plain from the balcony. The clouds made curious shapes in the sky, and there was a gentle breeze that made sitting outside that much more enjoyable. The band had been playing since the ladies arrived at Libby’s. The music was upbeat. They played their original compositions along with well-known covers. Some people in the audience sang along. Katie’s mother really enjoyed the music. She ordered another round of beers for everyone.
The deep orange in the sky turned bright lavender, then deep purple. About half an hour later, the sky was black and the stars twinkled as the band played a Johnny Cash song. Katie’s mother was drunk, and was dancing in front of the band. It started off very innocent. Some people even joined her. The music was great, but after a few more drinks, her steps became less coordinated. She stumbled all over the place, and drove the dancers back to their seats. Katie was mortified by her mother’s behavior and tried to lead her back to their table discretely. Her mother was not easily persuaded back to her seat. She struggled a little bit at first, but then she cooperated. She fell into her chair and began to fan herself.
“Damn girls, I’m a workin’ up a sweat with all this dancin’. Who wants another drink?”
“Mom, I think you’ve spent enough money here.”
“Then you buy me a drink, although I should let you know that I can buy as many drinks as I want with the insurance money I’m getting!”
“Don’t say that mom.” Katie was embarrassed. She told her mother to keep her voice down.
“Don’t you tell me to hush. I’m your mother,” she whispered sternly. “I’m done being a fucking housewife, and a do-gooder, caring about the homeless, and the hungry, and the clothesless. I just wanna dance right now. Is that too much to fucking ask?”
Katie never heard her mother use that type of language. It was scary to hear her talk like that. She let her mother go and sat back in the chair. Mandy sat back on the other end of the table with her feet up on a chair in front of her, enjoying a cigarette. Tired of being the adult in the group, Katie stopped restraining her mother, who leapt back up on the floor and to dance some more. It felt as if each song the quartet played was directed at her. She was the sweetheart that the lead singer left back in Georgia. She was his mother who took him to church every Sunday. She was the sister he saved from that no good bastard, Bobby Ray. She was the daughter that made everyday worth living. She felt an intimate connection with all the words, and the more intimate she thought the music became, the more she violated their personal space. They were all young. One of them was a strapping young man, his hair combed neatly and his shirt unbuttoned low enough to reveal a rugged chest, leaving little to the imagination of women in the audience. She was tempted to tear open his shirt right there and then. She danced slowly as he sang. She tried to sing into his microphone, but he politely pushed her back. Sitting on a stool next to the Casanova was a cute young man. He might have been the youngest of the group. He was scrawny, which added to his boyish charm. She felt his face as he sang as if she was a blind woman trying to make out the features of her lover. She kissed him on the cheek. He made an inappropriate joke about her being a sexual predator. Everyone laughed. Katie sat in her chair humiliated beyond repair. Katie’s mother sat on the floor teary-eyed as she listened to bachelor number three crooning his cover of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. She stared into his strained brown eyes as the song got emotional. An elderly gentleman in the front row that reminded Katie of Willie nelson rocked himself as if listening to a lullaby. The audience waited for the last guitar chord, and after a second of silence, they cheered and whistled with all their might. Mandy paused her clapping to wipe away a tear. Katie’s mother was overwhelmed by the amazing rendition of the song. She could not contain herself any longer. She stood up, lunged forward, and assaulted the singer with a kiss. He tried to push her back, but she was determined to make love to him right there and then. She held his head in place and licked around his mouth, as he had hidden his lips in his mouth. She laughed hysterically at the tease. The fourth member of the quartet came out to the balcony from the bar when he saw what was happening, and pulled her back from the waist with the help of an audience member. She held on to the singer’s arm, and as he tried to let go, she bit his forearm. He yelled. She did not intend to draw blood. Rather, she wanted to express her primal affection for him, to thank him for the song.
“Let go lady!”
“I love you! I love you!” She echoed the words as she was dragged out from the balcony, and into the bar. Katie rushed to the bar to try and comfort her mother, and apologize to the men. Mandy sat forward with her eyes wide, and both hands covering her mouth in horror, but secretly enjoying the scene.
“I’m not sure I ever been bit b’fore.” The singer rubbed his arm smiling, as he spoke to the audience and his band mates.
“Better go get you a tetanus shot,” the baby-faced member replied. The audience laughed. Minutes later, they continued playing as if nothing had happened.
“What the hell is wrong with you mother?”
Katie’s mother did not reply, she picked herself up, and hopped on a barstool.
“Can we have a glass of water please?” The bartender nodded with a smile and fetched Katie a glass. “Have you lost your mind? What is the meaning of this?”
“Child, let me be.” She stammered to complete her sentence and after a sipping on the glass of water. She laid her head down on the counter. Mandy came into the bar to check on them.
“I think we should leave.”
“We ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Katie’s mother got up from the stool, and walked back to their table on the balcony, ignoring Katie’s call to remain in the bar. Katie gave her a come back here right now look in lieu of yelling at her, but she simply shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. She cheered with the rest of the audience as the group finished playing a song.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve been an awesome crowd tonight.” His other band mates acknowledged the fact as the audience cheered and whistled. “We’re so glad you’re here. This might be the most people that’s ever come, and you’ve made tonight really special for us. You’re the best crowd ever.” The audience cheered and whistled again. “Like you might already know, we’re here every Wednesday night, and we play till we you get too tired to listen or we get too drunk to play.” The crowd cheered and whistled. “Sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed our songs and covers. We love your energy.” The crowd cheered and whistled. “Well, some of us, some of you, need to maybe move on home and get a good night’s rest. The next song is about life, the great journey. We’re all going somewhere. We can either sit and be taken to our destination, or we can search, and discover lots of things along the way. Anyway, don’t want to wax philosophical on y’all, but we all know what it feels like to finally get home after a long tired journey.” The crowd whistled and cheered. “I know I love to come home after touring on the road to my beautiful girlfriend and our beautiful daughter over there.” He pointed to a very pretty young lady, not more than twenty-five, sitting in the middle of the balcony with an angelic toddler in her lap. The little girl had the fairest skin and the curliest blond hair in all the land. The crowd cheered and whistled. “Yea, that’s right, you’re daddy’s little princess.”
Then one of his band mates remarked, “Folks, it’s amazing how something so damn ugly like my man here can make something incredibly beautiful like that little girl.” The crowd cheered and whistled. The quartet began to strum their guitars, and then followed the loud, piercing harmonica.
I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger
trav'ling through this world of below.
there's no sickness, toil nor danger
In that bright world to which I go.
I'm going there to meet my father
I'm going there no more to roam;
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home.
I know dark clouds will gather o'er me
I know my pathway's rough and steep;
But golden fields lie out before me
Where weary eyes no more shall weep.
I'm going there to see my mother
She said she'd meet me when I come
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home.
I'll soon be free from every trial
This form will rest beneath the sod
I'll drop the cross of self denial,
And enter in my home with God.
I'm going there to see my Saviour
Who shed for me His precious blood
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home.
I want to wear a crown of glory
When I get home to that bright land
I want to shout Salvation's story
In concert with that bloodwashed band.
I'm going there to meet my Saviour
To sing His praises forevermore
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home.
Katie’s mother lay in the back of the car on the drive back home. Katie chastised her mother the entire journey back home, although she had dozed off as soon as they set for home. Katie realised this when she turned back to see if her mother was listening to her, but found her asleep. She continued to vent her frustration regardless. She said a lot of angry words that Katie’s mother half-registered in her coma-like state. The words did not mean anything, not because they were not understood, but because angry words never mean anything. She dreamed. She was trying to remember what it felt like to be young again, to be strong, to not give a damn. She wanted to remember how it felt like to fall in love. She did not feel old per se. Her skin had wrinkled some, and she could not move around as fast is she used to. She thought that she was still fairly active. She did not really do old people things yet, just the same things she had always enjoyed doing. Her mind did not feel like it had aged. She shuddered at her recent display of juvenile behavior. She had been a wife for so long, that she felt stripped of a part of her identity, robbed of a prerogative even. She felt useless. She felt that her children did not want a mother; after all they were parents themselves. She felt alone.
About Author
James Adeniji: I am currently finishing up an MSc in Accounting and Finance at the University of Strathclyde. However, my heart has always belonged to the arts. I love classical music and opera. I have always been interested in creative writing, and I suppose the final push to seriously consider writing stories of my own were the courses in French literature that I took as part of my undergraduate studies. I like depressing drama, but the sort that stems from everyday events, and that does not necessarily lead damsels in distress to ritual suicide.
If you would like to contact James then please email thewritingpeople@gmail.com for more information.
