Contest Entry/Ride the Wind Day

[916 words]

Maria spent her mornings deciding what to do with her afternoons.  She loved the task; it kept her vaguely attached to a linear rope and it felt secure.  There were days she held onto the rope tightly and grew tired from the continuous effort.  Those days, the rope felt rough and barnacled and her paper-thin fingers, once dancing on piano keys, felt exhausted.  She enjoyed the other days, when she held on gently; just knowing the rope was there gave her the courage to forge ahead into the day.

The neighbor, Claudine, who checked in on Maria every afternoon, was late.  Claudine worked at Cheezits, in the strip mall, selling logs of Wisconsin cheese and miniature-smoked sausages wrapped tightly in plastic with no apparent expiration dates. When Claudine punched out at 4:30, she was tired and rushed, eager to get home to prepare dinner for the kids and her thankless husband Kyle. But, Claudine felt responsible for Maria in some way. She wondered who in their right mind could let a 92-year old woman live all alone right next door and not check in on her daily? So, Claudine made her daily round at Maria’s on her way home, checking that cupboards were full of canned goods and the refrigerator had plenty of cheese and sausages.

Maria suspected the food Claudine brought home from the store was stolen. Unable to make peace with undoing a lifetime devoted to spiritual principles for a few greasy summer sausages, she nervously decided to confront Claudine. Worrying the worst, she prayed Claudine wouldn’t become so angry as to strike her.

When Claudine arrived at 5:10 on that clammy August afternoon, stained with perspiration from a day donned in polyester, and toting the crinkly plastic bag full of Cheezits food, Maria took the plunge.

         “Oh dear, Diney.  You look exhausted.  You needn’t come by every day.  Really. I’m just fine.”

         “But Mrs. Marquez, you know I’d worry if I didn’t check in with you.  What if you were to fall, or choke on a piece of bone at lunch? Who would know?”

Good Lord, if I choked on a piece of bone at lunchtime I’d be a stiff by 4:30, wouldn’t I- but Maria kept this to herself.  She reached out a few inches in front of her waist gently for her rope, reassured that it remained right where it always was, and went on.

         “Diney, I feel awful that you’re spending your hard earned money on food for me.  Really, dear, I’m fine.  How much are you spending?  Please, let me pay you.”

         “ Oh no, Mrs. Marquez, I couldn’t let you do that.”

Maria took a deep breath through her slender nose and continued.
         “Diney, please assure me you aren’t bending any rules on my behalf.  I couldn’t allow you to jeopardize your job for my sake, I couldn’t bear…”
Claudine turned from the fridge with a snap and stood accused.  She took little time to collect herself before speaking.

         “Are you accusing me of stealing, Mrs. Marquez? How could you be so ungrateful? I don’t know why I bother taking time out from my busy life to help you, time I should be spending with my real family, and now you accuse me of stealing some measly crap when I’m just trying to be nice. “ 

Maria swayed in her house moccasins, averting her eyes to the far corner of the kitchen and holding tightly onto the smooth surface of the chair back in from of her. She whispered a small gasp and caught her breath between irregular heartbeats, wondering in the moment whether this was day she would finally ride the wind.

         “ Oh but Diney, I only wish you would know how very grateful I am for your kindness- I was only wondering---“
         “You were only wondering what?, Claudine seethed, “ What were you wondering, Mrs. Marquez?”

Maria’ hands rhythmically grasped and ungrasped the rope, pulling herself along it like an old-fashioned ferryboat over a creek, welcoming the approaching shoreline with relief. Her eyes stayed focused on Claudine, but she appeared fuzzy and unreal. Maria felt what might be the first updrafts of a lift, the call to heaven she knew was coming and which she welcomed -- though, like the onset of labor of her first child, she wasn’t all together sure if this was the real thing. She lost all sense of Claudine’s presence, until a voice spat out, ”Crazy old bat” and the slam of the kitchen screen door rushed the air like a gust of wind. Collapsing breathless to the kitchen floor in a gentle heap, Maria knew in that instant that today was ride the wind day, and she rode with faith, not needing a rope tethering her to the day any longer.

         Upon news of her death, Maria’s grandson, Devon, took the redeye from Boston and drove through the night from Albuquerque to arrive at the adobe home in Esperanza the following morning.  As he sat on the front porch he could smell the wicker furniture, rotting from seasons of disuse. Sitting in his Granny’s wicker rocker where she’d soothed him for many summers with tollhouse cookies and stories of her childhood, he reached over to the couch to pick up a pillow embroidered with three flying angels and the cross-stitched banner: Flying with Faith.  Slowly mouthing the words towards the ceiling, Devon hugged the pillow to his chest and rocked in pleasant memories of his sweet grandmother.

-Lindharma