Words: 2838


RESURRECTION



This was the weekend that Rebecca Baker had decided to purge herself. A special herbal blend of tea had been carefully prepared, and now it was streaming past her throat with a blessed promise of medicinal ablution. Every transgression, with its resulting remorse would be flooded out of her body, her mind and her soul.. It was a powerful tonic which she drank, meant exclusively for inducing a kind of catharsis, all in which the very ions of her essence would be broken up, sloshed around and squeezed free.
There had been too much shame. Too many facial contortions borne of murky, private recollections throughout the days and on into the hours of the night. Something just had to give her relief from this anguish, and it seemed that utter repentance along with tea in a darkened solitude for three days would be the only answer.
The shades of her apartment were drawn, the TV and radio were off, it was Friday evening. No one would even suspect what she was doing. She unplugged her phone to pull further away from anything which might try to disturb her plan. She was absolutely certain that on Monday morning, upon arising and preparing herself for the day, she would be mercifully and permanently cleansed.
More tea. Plentitude. Any volume of tea she soaked up could only increase the amount of misery which was to be expelled. She often could not distinguish between which part of herself was depravity and which part was just pure guilt, but they both amalgamated to inflict a common poison. After this weekend though, she finally would be free.
The choice of attire was important. It must be something Holy. Something self effacing and sacrificial. Rummaging through a drawer in her dimly lit bedroom, she found an old sheet which would do nicely. She tore a slit in the center of it and poked her head through, then removed her quilted bathrobe from underneath. Next, she wrapped her hair into a towel and pinned the ends up tightly. She would have no need for vanities. It would be helpful to take another bath, already she had been soaking in the tub for hours, sweating, melting away the evil, wrinkling up her skin while she imbibed the purifying tea. Maybe it would be good now just to lie down and concentrate on catharsis.
'I'm sorry,'� she said softly to herself, or to the guardian angel she was hoping to attract as soon as she became worthy. I'm sorry. Please forgive me.'� She waited. She sat up and took another sip of tea. Then she lay back down. 'I'm sorry,'� she whispered again.
It sounded like someone was knocking at the door. She had tried to foresee all possible interruptions, but this was one which she cold not really control. She would just have to pretend that she didn't hear it. After all, it was possible, on a Friday night like this, that she could be out somewhere.
She rolled over in her sheet dress and covered herself, trying to make the knocking go
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away. She folded a large pillow over her head.
She thought of all the times at work she had longed to do this very thing. Especially on the days when she had been suffering from a hangover. Every little incident, while working with the public, would scrape against her soul like a saw. Every embarrassment about herself, every time she edged out with her ego, just in order to deal with something, she got bitten, and she would ache to bury herself as she was doing now, and to regain herself and to heal her self esteem. Finally, Rebecca had arranged to satisfy that longing this weekend, and no one was going to interfere with an undertaking so necessary to her and so long awaited.
The knocking hadn't stopped yet, in fact it was getting more persistent. It even began to insinuate a smug ring of familiarity about itself.
'I'm not here,'� she murmured. 'I do not exist. I am in a state of healing now, I am unavailable to the outside world. Go away, please, please, go away.'� She closed her eyes, waiting.
Then, she heard a key in the lock.
'Who's there?'� she yelled.
'Rebecca?'� The voice called from the front room. 'What's the matter? Where are you?'�
It was Aunt Lou. Now Rebecca remembered everything. She had even been the one to give this woman a key only weeks ago.
'Aunt Lou?'�
A robust woman with a suitcase appeared in Rebecca's bedroom doorway.
'Forgot about me, huh?'�
'Oh no, I, that's right. Excuse me.'�
Rebecca's purging tea was starting to act upon her, and she jumped up to run into the bathroom.
'Got something against answering you door, or something? I just figured you weren't home.'�
'Sorry,'� called Rebecca from the toilet seat. 'I have the flu. Guess I was sleeping or something. So this is the weekend you came to town for your interview, huh?'�
She stepped out of the bathroom
'Yeah,'� said the woman. 'T'anks. Jeez, Girl. What are you wearing?'�
'Oh.'� Rebecca grabbed at her sides. 'Nothing.'� She slipped back under the covers and pulled them up to her chin.
'You wear a towel over your head to bed? Hoo boy. T'anks a lot. Got a beer?'�
'No.'�
'Not drinkin', huh? Well that's a switch.'�
'What do you mean,'� asked Rebecca. 'I think I've been doing really well.'�
'Yeah, yeah, t'anks. Tell your mom that. She worries the hell out of herself over you.'�
'Why?'�
'Why do you think? You got quite a track record going for you, Girl. Wish you could
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ha' sobered up like this when you were still livin' back home.'�
'I was younger then. I was trying.'�
'Yeah, t'anks.'� Lou looked around in the direction of the kitchen. 'Not even one lousy beer for your old Aunt Lou?'�
'No. Sorry.'�
The woman shrugged. 'I got a little Seagrams here in my suitcase.'�
She slumped herself down on the foot of the bed and bent over, opening up the lumpy suitcase between her legs. 'Here it is.'� She undid the cap and took a swig. Then she offered the bottle in the direction of Rebecca.
Rebecca shook her head.
'On the wagon, huh? When are you gonna take that damn towel off your head?'�
Rebecca sighed and yanked at it, letting her hair fall out from underneath.
'I guess I was having a weekend where I just wanted to feel sorry about everything.'�
'Hoo boy,'� said Aunt Lou. 'T'anks. You can start by being sorry you forgot all about me when you said a month ago I could stay here for that interview. You want me to spend a bunch of money stayin' in a motel?'�
'No, I just forgot, that's all. You can sleep on the couch, that's okay, but I don't feel well. I just want to spend the whole time in bed.'�
She jumped up again and darted for the bathroom.
Lou threw back her head and laughed like a hyena, then she took another slug of whiskey. 'You remind me of someone,'� she choked. 'You remind me of this ornery little lady who couldn't hold her liquor most the time. She coughed. 'Ornery as owl shit.'�
'I'm not throwing up,'� Rebecca called from the bathroom, sighing. 'It's diarrhea.'�
'Yeah, yeah, t'anks. Same difference.'�
Rebecca didn't bother to get back up from the toilet. She felt protected in here, in this little room with the door closed,. She didn't feel like being looked at any more.
Her Aunt Lou was snorting now. 'Jeez, you could be a nasty little fart when you drank'�
'Lou, stop it, okay?'�
'What's the matter? You drown in there?'�
'Lou?'�
'Yeah?'�
'Do you think you might really be able to stay in a motel tonight?'�
There was a long silence, while Rebecca held her breath.
'Got a problem with me being here, or something?'�
'I just don't feel well, Aunt Lou.'�
'So? You think I felt well lots of times when I was helping your mother raise you? What kind of thanks is that now that I ask a little favor of you? What about the time I picked you up off your face when you got drunk at that wedding party?'�
'I don't drink any more, Aunt Lou. Okay? I know I made an ass of myself and I hurt a lot of people, but I don't any more.!'�
'Well that sure as hell is good to hear.'� She tipped another swallow of Seagrams up
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to her lips.
'And I'm sick and tired of you trying to make me feel rotten about stuff that happened years ago.'�
'Yeah, t'anks.'�
'I just want to be alone. I'll even help you pay for the motel if you want.'�
'Don't bother.'�
Rebecca could hear her Aunt's large body shuffling out the bedroom door.
'I'll tell your mom you couldn't have me over 'cause you were too busy puking in the bathroom all night.'�
'Damn you, Lou.'� Rebecca sprang up from the toilet and yanked open the door. 'That isn't true. Don't you dare tell lies about me.'�
'Yeah, t'anks.'� Lou was already moving through the front room.
Rebecca looked down at her sheet with the hole in it for her head and she winced. 'Aunt Lou, wait,'� she whispered. She heard the front door slam. She listened to the sound of her own aching heart.
'I'm sorry.'�



It was around 10:00 at night, and Rebecca felt like she was doing something really stupid. She had finally slipped out of her sheet, put on something acceptable to wear, brushed her hair, and was now driving toward the most obvious motel where Aunt Lou might want to stay. Rebecca just had to find her. She had to tell her how sorry she was. It had been impossible to go back to the plan of overhauling herself this weekend and she felt irretrievably soiled.
What kind of girl would turn away her own Aunt? And especially an Aunt who had practically been like her mother? Who was it who had bailed her out of jail that time, and had found a good lawyer for her, and had helped her home and to bed all those times, and had taught her how to laugh at herself? She just had to find her. She wanted to tell her that she had just been in a weird mood.
Lou's car was parked in front of the lounge of the motel where Rebecca was sure she would find her. Pulling up next to it, she tasted hope.
Once inside, she spotted her Aunt Lou at the bar, and sheepishly she began walking up to her. 'Aunt Lou, I'�'�
'Well well,'� chortled Lou, 'If it isn't my little niece. See Frank? I told you she was just as pretty as a doll baby. Whaday'a think?'�
The man sitting next to her beamed through a haze.
'What are y'a drinking, Honey?'� she asked Rebecca.
'Aunt Lou, I just came to say that'�'�
'Yeah, yeah. T'anks a lot. Shut up and sit down, will y'a? Make yourself to home. Oscar?'� She called and motioned to the barkeeper. 'Port wine here for the little lady.'� She giggled ad lit a cigarette. 'What are y'a up to tonight, Honey?'�
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Good old Lou. Rebecca yearned to feel so glowing and easy once again. Here this amazing aunt of hers had just stomped out of an apartment, angry and hurt only hours ago, and now she had forgotten all about the incident, apparently, and all she wanted was just for her niece to have a good time.
Rebecca tipped up her glass as soon as it was set down before her, and she took most of it in one gulp.
'Hey, hey!'� yelped Lou. 'Looka' that girl go. That's my girl. Baker women always did love their liquor. Barkeep? Oscar!! Bring her another. Here's to my niece.'�
Rebecca was starting to feel gladdened. In minutes the second drink arrived, and she downed that one, too. She loved the way her aunt always made her feel, like she was someone special. She loved her Aunt Lou. She wanted to be like Lou.
'I guess I'll have another,'� she said, with a giggle.
'Yeah, t'anks. Oscar!! Get the lead out. My niece is thirsty over here.'�
Rebecca noticed that a pleasant looking man at the end of the bar had his eyes cast in her direction. She lifted her newly filled glass toward him in a toast and gaily beamed. He grinned back. Then, he came over to her.
'Care to dance?'�
'Sure.'�
It made her laugh to think that much earlier tonight she had been wearing a sheet with a hole in it, wrapping up her hair in towels, and trying to talk to an angel.
'What's so funny?' the man asked.
'Oh. Everything,'� she cooed, slipping an arm up around the back of his shoulders.
His arm tightened around her as they stepped about on the small, hardwood piece of floor.
No wonder Aunt Lou thought she was so weird. What a prissy little uptight brat she had been. Rebecca felt right at home here now, nudging against this guy to the music, snuggling up with his arm around her, and hers around him. She could sense the warmth of his breathing in her ear.
Suddenly, his body jerked.
'Where have you been?'� whined a woman's voice.
'Right here. Where do you think?'� The man hopped back from Rebecca.
'Who's she?'�
'How do I know?'�
They both looked at Rebecca, endangered.
'Sorry,'� she stammered.
She darted back to the bar and grabbed up her purse. Then, she called out a g'night to Aunt Lou and headed for the door.
'Aw, c'mon, Karla, lighten up, will y'a?'� She could hear the man pleading. 'She didn't mean a thing to me. She was just some barfly. Honest. She came on to me'�
Rebecca revved up the motor of her car and jammed on the accelerator to get as far away from the scene as possible. She felt rage toward every injustice that life stood for, and at the same time, a putrid, gouging shame. She wished she had stayed home. Now the
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layers of disgrace were even thicker than before. She drove faster.
A large, black object lunged in front of her. She jammed her foot to the brake. She heard a thumping under her car and she froze. Silence. She could not stir. She would not. She could not do one more wrong thing.
It must have been a dog, and she must have killed him. There was no sound being made. Her soul shut down, because there was no where left for it to go. She may as well seal off here for the rest of her miserable life, because there was nothing left inside her to generate energy. Nothing within her would ever pull her out again She sighed, because it really was all over now.
She heard a whiney sound outside. She gulped air, and then she opened the car door.
'Doggie?'�
The large, black creature was wriggling with excitement and pleasure. He leaped into the car beside her. He licked her face and arm, frantically waving his tail.
'You're not hurt! You must have just rolled.'�
His voluptuous tongue forgave every crevice of her face. She shivered with bliss. She giggled. .
'You are so sweet! You forgive me! Well, okay, okay, oh!'�
The air altered. Everything breathed. The dashboard took on a glow. Sloppy licking continued, spreading warm streams into every raw opening of her soul. Over and over again, she was told she was wonderful, she was adored, she was precious, and she was forgiven.
'Oh, Doggy, I thought you got hurt by me, I thought you died.'�
A luscious ease surrounded her, a feeling of freedom, something that had been there all along, a liberation from anything that pinched.
'You are the sweetest'�'� She giggled again. 'You don't have a tag. Come on home with me.'�
He nuzzled his face into hers. 'Come on, Boy. You can be my buddy, okay?'�
Everything was really so simple. A door felt like it was opening and was letting in light. It felt like a transfusion.
This is what I've been waiting for, she thought. I don't need to go back over anything.
Flashes of insight were zipping and zapping through her mind, she couldn't even catch them fast enough, but they all made perfect sense. She felt like she was flying. She was darting around, first from one discovery to another, like the universe was undulating with joy. Everything was her friend.
'Oh, I see,'� she said, to the dog. 'That's okay. You can keep licking my arm, thank you. Thank you so much.'�
All she would ever need again was this moment.
'Thank you, thank you,'� she whispered, letting her foot off the brake. She shifted into drive.

THE END

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