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Hey Mom, it's me Maggie
Short Story
by Casey M. Mitchell
After a long day of monotonous classes, boring meetings, and
practice, Maggie could not wait to climb into comfy clothes and plop in
front of the television in her small apartment. Being the college
track star, SGA President, and juggling 18 credits of class is a hard job.
She always dreaded her busy Thursday schedule, but at the same time she
looked forward to dusk because Friends came on the television. A
9-year die-hard fan, Maggie becomes enthralled into the television every
Thursday night. She often ponders the question How can this be the last
season? It is so hard to imagine Life itself without Jennifer, Joey,
Monica, Chandler, Phoebe, and Ross. Suddenly, the endless poetry
interpretations and mathematical calculations that swallowed her entire day
seemed obsolete as she considers the mystery at hand.
Rinngg Rinnggg Rinnggg!
That's odd, Maggie thought to herself, as the telephone beckoned for
her attention. No one calls me during this time. I'll just ignore it.
The pestering caller did not give up, so with remote in one hand and
cordless in the other, she hit the Mute and Talk buttons.
Hello, Maggie said sternly, Who is this?
Hello, Ms. Houser? A man with a deep scratchy, yet sympathetic voice
was on the other end. We have some bad news.
* * * * *
Maggie could not seem to get a hold of herself. The only words in
that conversation she could remember were bad accident and rushed to
hospital. There had to be a mistake. They couldn't t be referring to her
mother. After a few failed attempts of calming breaths, Maggie managed
to throw on jeans and a hoodie and start her journey to General
Hospital. Panic had taken over. She did not even realize she made it safely
to the ER until she realized her banging on the Receptionist window.
Excuse me, panic stricken, my mother is in here. Can you please
help me?
Yes Ma'am, of course. Please try to relax and give me her name. The
voice was so calming Maggie couldn't t help but relax her pulsating
clenched fists.
Susan Knodding. With a K. She automatically said that because no
one ever spelled her mother's married name right. Wait, maybe they did
make a mistake. Maybe it was a different Susan. Susan Nodding . Or
Susan Notting. Maybe the phone call was a mistake? Maybe my mother isn't
here? Maybe.
Maggie could see in the receptionist s eyes that there was no mistake.
She reached for Maggie's hand as she fought back the tears. Ma'am,
follow me.
She led Maggie through the automatic doors and walked her to a small
room so white it pierced her eyes. She saw a large man standing over a
limp body. No. It could not be her mother. The receptionist spoke a
few words to the doctor, the doctor nodded and came out to Maggie.
Hello, Maggie. I am Dr. Smithton. Your mother has suffered a few
serious injuries to her head. She had internal bleeding and quite a few
broken bones. She is sedated. She is in no pain as of right now and
we will continue to monitor that. She is actually lucky. The accident
was pretty bad.
Maggie tuned out the rest of what Dr. What's-his-face had to say as
tears streamed down her face. She could not swallow hard enough to get
that frog out of her throat to reply to the doctor.
I'm sorry, Maggie. We are doing everything we can do at this point.
All I can say is keep your hopes up and try to talk to her. It's up
to your mother now.
Can I see her? It took every ounce of effort to speak those words
to the doctor. Maggie was in shock and disbelief; until the doctor
stepped out of the way and let Maggie get a full view of her mother. She
didn't even recognize her. The bumps and bruises on her face and neck
were bad enough, but the amount of swelling in her head and the tubes
coming out of her nose made Maggie ill. This isn't a time for selfishness.
Maggie knew she had to face the horrible scene and enter her mother's
room.
Her motions were slow and constrained. Each step hesitated. As she
finally reached the endless journey to the bedside, she collapsed into
the chair that the receptionist had strategically placed.
If there is anything we can get you, please let us know. As soon as
your father arrives, we will send him back. The receptionist obviously
did not know what she was talking about. Maggie knew her father would
not be the one showing up. It would be her step-dad Mike Knodding.
Oh, Mike, Maggie thought to herself. She just remembered he was
away on business and would have to be at least a days drive away. She
began to sob even harder as she laid her head on the side of the bed next
to her mother's hip. She gently took her mother's hand in her own and
tried her best to look at her face. It was hard. One of the hardest
things she had ever done in her life.
After hours of beeping heart monitors and pulsating air pumps, Maggie
could no longer take the emptiness of the room. Even the nurses that
came and went on their rounds did not speak to her. She prepared
herself. Prepared herself as much as she could in a few hours after hearing
what happened.
Hi Mom. I don t know if you can hear me, but there are some things I
need to say to you. I am not sure exactly why, but I just want to, ok?
Maggie began to choke on her words. But she knew this had to be done.
She let this stuff go without being said for too long. Remember when
you found my birth control pills in my purse? I remember I wanted to
kill you for going through my personal things; and you were ready to
kill me because you thought I was being promiscuous. I didn't even know
what that word meant then. Maggie couldn't help but attempt to smile
as she remembered that horribly awkward time.
* * * * *
Maggie, get down stairs right now. We need to talk, Susan ordered.
What now? Her sarcasm was at its peak. But she drudgingly descended
down the stairs. Her mother was impatiently tapping her foot at an
unhealthy fast pace at the bottom of the stairs. She knew this was
something big.
What's the deal? Maggie asked. I didn't do anything.
Is there something you want to tell me? Or have you been doing it
for so long it's just a habit you forget about? Her mother probed.
Mom, what are you talking about? I am not on drugs, if that is what
you are referring to. Maggie was still confused on what her mother's
problem was. She couldn't think of anything in the world that would
upset her like this. Except- no, she couldn't.
How long have you been taking birth control? Her mother asked the
question at the exact moment she thought to herself the possibility of
her mother finding her pack of pills in her purse.
How long have you been snooping in my stuff? Maggie responded with a
cold tone. That is none of your business. It is my life, my
decision.
How could you, Maggie? Do you realize what you are doing to
yourself? Have you thought this through? And who the Hell are you to go to
the doctor without telling me, your own mother?
Who the Hell are you to go through my purse like that? Maggie
immediately turned red. She knew she went too far and started to take small
steps in retreat of her mother s reach.
Who the Hell am I? I'll tell you. I am your mother. I bought that
little black purse you keep your birth control in. I pay for your food,
your clothes, and the house that you live in. So, until you find your
own house, buy your own clothes, and buy your own little black purse to
hide your contraceptives, it s all mine.
Maggie was furious with her mother. She was being ridiculous and had
no right to accuse Maggie of being a problem child. Mom, who spent
the night in jail when she was 16? Who tried burning their bras during
recess and threatened to light the school courtyard on fire? Who was
caught streaking at the Steppin Wolf concert? YOU were not a perfect
child. So you have no right to flip out on me for wanting to be safe.
Susan replied. Maggie, times were a lot different then. You're
right. I was not the perfect child, but I am not saying I expect you to be.
I just don't see why you need to have sex at such an early age. We
haven't even had the sex talk yet. Do you really think you are ready for
all of the responsibility that comes with being sexually active?
I am Mom. I am on birth control so I cannot get pregnant. I am
doing everything right. Besides, I am not young, everyone is having sex.
Those were the words that Susan did not want to hear. She was afraid
that all of this was for peer pressure. And, Maggie did not have a
serious boyfriend. So did this mean that Maggie was sleeping around? How
could she ask- no accuse her daughter of such a disgraceful act?
Mags, I don't know how to say this without offending you...
Just stop Mom; you don't know what you are talking about. I can make
my own decisions- you don't give me enough credit.
Susan let out a long sigh. Mags, you're wrong. I give you credit.
I just don't understand why you would want to be on birth control. I
can't think of one of your guy friends that deserves you. You don't
give yourself enough credit. Just please don't do something you will
regret.
* * * * *
How did you do it, Mom? How did you know exactly what to say in
such a hard situation? You gave me one of the best compliments of my
life, Maggie said as she patted her mother's swollen hand.
Not a minute too soon, Michelle- Maggie's best friend from high
school- came barging into the room. Panting from her frantic jog down the ER
hallway, she broke into tears as she saw her mother lying in bed. Or
maybe it was the pathetic view of Maggie sitting there next to her.
They hugged, and Michelle tried to think of something, anything that would
be considered the right thing to say at this moment. Maggie stopped
her; she just appreciated her being there because she didn't even have
time to call anyone. Maggie knew that everyone in town was probably
talking about it. It never was hard for news to travel through their
small town. Michelle asked about Mike and Maggie explained that he was
away for business and would be there as soon as possible. Having her
there just made things easier. She reminded Maggie of how much she loved
her mom. How much everyone loved her mom.
Michelle offered to go get some coffee and munchies. Something Maggie
had not even thought about since she arrived at the ER. Excited that
she could help, Michelle left for the Gift Shop.
Mom, Michelle is here. You know how much you love your buddy
Michelle. She went to get us some coffee. Are you in pain? Remember that
one time you took Michelle and me to the Mall and we got our pictures
taken with Santa? We always hang that picture on the Christmas Tree,
Maggie tried to continue talking with her mother since her and Michelle
spent the last 15 minutes talking as if she wasn't even in the room.
Remember when we used to go shopping all of the time, Mom? You
always say I am your favorite person to go shopping with because I talk you
into buying everything. When are we going to go shopping again mom?
Maggie probed her mother for questions she knew her mother could not
answer. She would have done anything to hear her voice.
I remember when we would go shopping when I was younger. I would sit
on the dirty fitting room floor and count to see how many of those
annoying plastic strings that attached the tags on the clothing had fallen
to the old, stained carpet. I always wondered if people got in trouble
for ripping the tags off. It was very boring. You would try on one
skirt or pair of pants and MAYBE a shirt to go with it. My annoyance
was at its peak. I always hated that feeling of having to guard your
purse, my coat, and the five bags of clothes that you had just purchased
for me. It was so hot in those dressing rooms and all I wanted to do
was go to the toy store or the food court- Not baby sit my new wardrobe
and my mother's boring boat of a black purse. I was so tired from long
days of shopping- it's hard work trying on bunches of clothes and
having to chose what I need you to buy me and what can be put in the NO
pile. I always hated hanging up my clothes after I tried them on. Mom,
you were good at that. I would hand you a bundle of hangers and a
monsoon of inside-out mixed clothing while I put my street clothes back on.
Somehow, they always ended up hanging neatly in a row. Especially the
bras, I could never hang those back up right. Hell, I still can't.
Speaking of bras, do you remember how you always wanted to come in the
dressing room with me when I tried them on to make sure they fit be good?
I hated that with a passion because you would always leave the door
open for the entire store to see my mother play with my under ware.
But you know what Mom, you never once told me; No you can t have that.
Unless I had 50 of the exact same thing. I would get so annoyed with
you shopping for one pair of work pants while I got anything my heart
desired. You always put my wants ahead of your needs.
Hi buddy. I am back, Michelle tapped lightly on the door. I got
you a Snickers and the strongest coffee they had. A ton of 2% and 4
packs of sugar. I never did understand why you even bothered to put
coffee in it.
Maggie giggled as she graciously reached for the coffee. Michelle
hugged her tightly and explained that she needed to go pick up her kids
from school. She insisted Maggie call her if she needs anything.
Pajamas, more food, anything Maggie. I mean it. Michelle demanded.
I love your mom and you. I wish there was more I could do.
You just being here helps. Thank you Michelle. I will call you.
Michelle kissed Maggie and Susan goodbye and as she left the hospital,
Maggie smiled in remembrance of some of those crazy times they shared
growing up. There was never a dull moment between those two. Maggie
was then reminded of the Blue Goon.
Hey Mom, do you remember the Blue Goon? Michelle probed her mother
again, not expecting an answer. She continued. I can't believe I was
lucky enough to have Mike's car before the Blue Goon. Remember when
I put a hole in the house backing up? Or when I knocked the side-view
mirror off trying to show off my keen parallel parking skills? I told
everyone that my jealous ex-boyfriend hit it with a ball bat.
I went through about 3 new tires in a few months because of that
annoying ditch on the way to Michelle's house. Most of my friends didn't
even have a car and there I was driving mine into a ditch. After I
finally murdered her in that bad accident, I was actually appalled that you
would consider buying me a used 85 Cavalier. I remember Mike taking
me, you, and Michelle to see it. We laughed the entire way home. Well,
you three laughed. I complained. I can't believe I was complaining
about a car that you were willing to buy me. I was working on my 2nd car
while my friends were still begging their parents to let them drive
their cars. After Mike nicknamed it the Blue Goon, it was actually fun
to sport it. Everyone knew me on the streets. Michelle and I
definitely sported that car like it was our job. That thing was so shitty and
old it just died one day in the middle of the street. Thank God for
cell phones.
Maggie could not help but giggle as she was remembering the legend of
the Blue Goon. What a fun time she had with that car. Everyone
teased her but at the same time it was the most popular car in the Senior
Parking Lot at school. Her parents knew what they were doing. It kept
her safe, and brought her to the center of attention. They knew her
too well.
And mom, after all of that, you and Mike bought me Lilly. Maggie
now drove a very well-kept used Sunfire. Why? I didn't deserve it.
You guys gave me all you could. Always putting me first. Why didn't I
see that then?
Maggie began to cry as she felt some guilt and yet an even deeper
appreciation for her mother. It may have taken this long, but she knew she
was one of the luckiest girls alive.
Please fight this mom, Maggie softly whispered as she lowered her
head to her mother s hand. I can't imagine...
Mags, how are you doing sweetie? Maggie sighed as she was yet
again interrupted by an unannounced guest. It was Mike, her step-dad.
Finally, Mike. Maggie rose to hug him and began crying with him
over the horrible sight of her mother's damaged, body. She pulled a chair
over next to her own and forced him to sit down closest to her mother's
head.
Talk to her Mike, she listens. I've been doing so for a while. I
think she can hear us, Maggie suggested to a grief-stricken husband.
Maggie realized that Mike needed time to take it all in, and decided she
could use some fresh scenery. She decided to walk to the Gift Shop and
see what kind of presents they had that could brighten up the dull
room.
Lucky for her, the Gift Shop was connected to the Cafe. How
convenient? She needed more coffee and maybe even a sandwich. If she could get
it down. As she sat at the counter, she imagined how many people sit at
this counter with the same depressed, exhausted look she had. It would
be hard to be the waitress here. Chances are if someone is getting
something to eat in a hospital Cafe, they are trying to take their mind
off something tragic. There was a small rack of Greeting Cards for sale
on the end of the counter. Maggie glanced at the headings: Get Well
Soon, It s A Boy!, and a variety of others were appropriate for a
hospital gift shop. One that really grabbed Maggie's attention was the
Thinking of You heading.
Being in college was not that hard on Maggie, she adapted well. She
was her mother's daughter being the social butterfly and always giving
things a chance. But she does miss her mom sometimes. She will never
know, Maggie thought, how much her little notes and cards in the mail
meant to her. It would be unusual to go more than a week without some
sort of surprise in her mailbox. Lucky for Maggie, Susan was what
you could call computer illiterate. She would much rather take the time
to write out a note or clip a newspaper article about something
interesting happening in town and buy the stamp to send it then go on the
computer a type an impersonal email in thirty seconds.
Maggie finished her coffee and sandwich and ordered a cup to go for
Mike. She headed back towards her mother's room. She found Mike in the
hallway talking with Dr. What's-his-face. She hurriedly ran over to see
what the matter was, ignoring her burning wrist from the coffee
splashing over.
Mike what is it? she demanded. What's happening to my mother?
It's ok Mags, the doctor says your mom can be moved out of the ER
into her own recovery room. This is a good sign Maggie.
She's ok? She's going to make it?
The doctor took this opportunity to interject. Well, it seems that
the past few hours have really been crucial for your mother. I can't say
I am not surprised. This is just short of a miracle, I tell ya. We
are definitely not in the clear yet. But if your mother continues, she
might make it.
Nothing in the world- not a boyfriend, not a diamond ring, not even a
new car- could make Maggie any happier. A step in a positive direction
is all it would take. She knew her mother is a fighter and would make
it. But she also knew her mother wouldn't leave Maggie. Not yet.
Again, her mother would do everything she could for Maggie's sake.
I think the best thing for you to do is to go home and get some rest,
Maggie. Your mother is going to need you these next few days and you
don't want to get down on yourself. Come back first thing in the
morning and your mother will be in a more private, comfortable room waiting
for you. You should be proud of your mother, Maggie. She is a strong
woman.
You have no idea Doc, Maggie thought to herself. That was the
understatement of the century. Never in her life had Maggie realized the
deep admiration and respect she had for that woman laying in the hospital
room. Whether she made it or not- NO, Maggie didn't even want to think
of the or not - she could not have been more proud of her mother. She
could only hope that she would be able to do the same for her own
children one day.
Hey Mom, it's me Maggie© Copyright 2004 Casey M. Mitchell, printed with permission. 05/12/04
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