"She can't hear." Doctor Tom told my mother.
"She can't hear?!....Jessie!"
"Huh?" I looked at her.
"She says huh when she means what. And not because she can't hear me." Mom turned back to me. "You need to stop saying huh. Understand?"
"Yes." I nodded.
"No she doesn't."
I looked at the ground. Would of left if i could have. I didn't want surgery.
"I'm getting a second opinion."
"I understand."
I knew this meant we'd never be back. I secretly waved goodbye to Mrs. P. behind the desk as we marched out. I didn't get a sticker. Mom's long legs moved fast and we shared no words until our thirty-mile drive home.
"Lets pray Jessie that you don't need surgery." Instead of closing my eyes, I turned towards her and watched her mouth move in prayer. "Dear Lord, please heal Jessie's ears. Please heal them in time for her to not fall behind or until you can provide us with enough money for the cost. Please hold me strong when I call her father tonight. Help him understand the importance of this and the reality of my financial struggle. We ask for your guidance and strength. in Jesus' name we pray, Amen."
"Amen."
She never broke her gaze over the road in front. I lay my head against the door and watched the trees pass until the wind put me to sleep.
"Jessie." Mom touched my hair to wake me. "Jessie, they're mowin the fields." The heat had melted me. I was drenched in sweat and stuck to the seat. I kept my eyes closed, smiled, and took in a long breath through my nose.
"I like the way that grass smells."
"Me too." Mom said and we breathed deeply until the bush hogs reached the rear view. I started sneezing and tears ran down my cheeks. "You okay honey?"
"Uh huh."
"We're almost home."
3 comments:
I did not like this one at all! At least you said it was fiction inspired by memory. I tried to find some things that might have been remembered, new mown grass and allergies, that you had to have surgery, that I pray (but rarely out loud with you), but it was really written with the back woods flavor of possum eating, superstitious,dirt floor poverty which was certainly nothing you ever experienced. It hurt my feelings.
Mom
So beautiful. I love what you chose to reveal and what you chose not to reveal. Although I'm curious, did you need surgery or did Jesus come through?
jess, you are an amazing writer. i have always thought you had great potential and always loved reading your writings. i am so glad that you are writing again, and this story just proves how far you've grown in your abilities as a writer. you have always had the wonderful ability to make suck the reader into the world that you allow us to visit and truly feel for the person you introduce to us. now you are writing about your own childhood, and i think that is very brave, and i don't think you should let anything stop you from continuing..
xo
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