Grief

My mother had been dead for three and a half weeks.

The funeral was planned and executed in one of those weeks.

I spent the next two weeks in the fog that tags along with grief, stumbling from one day to the next while tripping over a minefield of memories.

The fog was comforting, welcome, because the pain was too awful, too alive for me to bear.  I neglected work, bills, friends, of course not the dogs; Lola and Kane would not stand being ignored. 

But, the fog was unreliable. It came and went as it pleased, a boyfriend that tolerated me because he was bored.  That was how I ended up sobbing in my car on the side of the road.

It was late at night, and I drove to be driving.  There were no houses for miles.  Woodlands were to my left and right and up ahead. Songs blended in with each other on the radio.  I was content to zone out in my fog, but the fog lost interest and left me stranded.  Grief fell on me and I quickly pulled over before I lost myself in crying.  I lay my head against the steering wheel and wailed until my throat burned.  Billie Jean blared.  It’s a wonder I heard my phone ring at all.

I let it ring, waiting for the intruder to go away.  But my phone kept ringing, long past when it should have gone to voicemail.  I picked it up to turn off the ringer when I caught the name lit across the screen.

Valerie Washington.

My mother’s name.  Someone was calling from her number. 

The shock froze me. 

And it kept ringing, playing a snippet of a classical piece she loved.  Maybe it was Aunt Allie who was staying at the house cleaning it out.  Or a prank by a someone too young to care what a phone call could do. The only thing I could think of was my mother’s smiling face, and I answered.

“Mom.”  It wasn’t a question.  My voice was stronger than it had been in days. 

Silence.

Heat bubbled up inside of me.  What a cruel joke to play on someone. I made ready to unleash weeks of anger and sadness.

It was a small voice.  Cold, distant as though they were not close enough to the speaker, and pitched a little too high.

“Hello?” she said.

It was her voice.

I fell back into my seat, too stunned to say anything.  An empty silence followed, just long enough for me to doubt what I’d heard.

“Mom?” I shakily said.

“…Hello.”

It was her voice. Flat. Cold. Then silence. A profound silence that made me realize the radio wasn’t playing.  The car was off. I turned the key in the ignition but it didn’t start. I kept trying until I had no choice but to accept that it was dead.  I stared out into a blackness that blocked the glow of my headlights. 

And they were beginning to dim.

“It’s cold,” she said in monotone.

It’d  been chilly all day and got chillier as the day went on.  The heat in the car had kept me warm but was fading now with every minute. But I was too focused on my mother’s voice.   So many things to say. Words fought in my mouth to get free. 

“Where are you, Mom?” I managed to say.

“Help me.”

Everything I wanted to say disappeared and a sense of urgency tore through me. I ignored my headlights dying away and casting me into total darkness. The only light came from the phone screen.

“Mom, tell me where you are.”

“Help…Help me.”

“Damnit, Mom I need to know where you are so I can get you!”

Don't swear. Mom again, this time in my mind. She didn’t say it to me now.

“Outside,” she said to me.

Outside where? Love and joy was giving way to irritation.

“Outside…in the trees.”

I was immediately out of the car. The air penetrated my sweater easily.  I looked around. There was nothing but the outline of trees against a purple sky. 

A branch snapped somewhere to my right. It didn’t sound too far away. I turned on the flashlight on my phone and went in that direction.

I ran into a tree. 

The underbrush was thigh high.  I stumbled and tripped my way through the woods. The farther I got the darker it became. The flashlight was draining my battery. 

“Mom are you still there?” I shouted into the speaker.  Nothing.  Panic started to creep up my spine.

“Mom?!”

 The only thing I could hear was my heart slamming against my ribcage.

“…Hello.”

The flatness of her voice was unnerving. It was no longer chilly but cold.  I stood there, flashing my phone all around hoping to see her.

“Mom, where are you?” I said in the speaker desperately

The silence was deafening.  The phone came to life.

“Here.”

The blood stopped in my veins.  I struggled to speak.

“Where?” I asked again.

The woods had gone quiet.  The cold breeze disappeared but I was covered in gooseflesh.

“You’re here,” The speaker quietly responded.

Why wasn’t she talking louder so I could get her exact location?  Why could I only hear her voice through the speaker?

A loud and slow intake of breath exhaled in front of me.

Run.

I twisted around and followed my feet.  The flashlight was dangerously low. The hair on my back stood at attention.

Something is right behind me.

Bushes and small trees snagged me; On the tenth snag I said goodbye to my sweater and left it behind.

Breaking out into the open, the sudden momentum from getting away from the bushes almost sent me to the ground.  I ran straight ahead and prayed that I had not wandered too far from where my car was. 

I ran into it with a thud.

I threw myself into the driver seat and locked the doors.   I pleaded with my car to start and turned the key in the ignition.

It didn’t start.

Frantic tears poured from my eyes. Please!

This time the car started.

Darkness broke away from the light of my headlights. Turning the car around, I sped back the way I came and didn’t look at anything else but the road until I reached city limit life. When I got home, I found a three digit claw had cut through the back of my blouse and left three scratches.

I called my mother’s number.

It was disconnected.