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Fiction Short Story

Gayle Groff Loggins

Illusion is a story of a mother and daughter living separate lives. It is fiction that rings true until the end, then it depends on your beliefs.

Gayle has been published once in Writers Journal in their Write to Win contest. Currently she is a student of WVU, enrolled in Getting the Words Right, Mythic Structure, and Writing the Mystery Novel.

Illusion

Elizabeth pulled her Nissan Pathfinder into the carport of her mother’s duplex. She unlocked the door and was greeted by an obnoxious odor. She held her breath and rushed to open the windows. "Mother, how can you live like this? The heat and smell are horrendous."

Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table clipping articles out of old newspapers. "Your young'uns are gonna to love these books I'm makin' for 'em. They'll be the only ones of their kind. I'm puttin' in all the history I can find about Bradenton. Everyone should know about where they were born."

Returning to the kitchen exasperated, Elizabeth opened the window. "Well, that's the last of them except for the bedroom."

"When was the last time I saw your young'uns?"

"Mother, why is the bedroom door locked? Where is the key?"

"Look, here's a clippin' about the old bridge." Her mother held a ragged piece of newsprint. "We had to ride the ferry to get to the island when I was young."

"Mother, I need the key to the bedroom door. It's a small piece of metal shaped like a 'T'." Elizabeth held up her fingers to illustrate the point. "I could've sworn it was in this drawer."

"And here's where they closed the bridge and opened the new one. Ol' thing was fallin' apart. That happens when you get old, you know... you fall apart like a piece of worn out cloth."

"If you don't know where the key is, tell me where you put the screwdriver, it should work." Elizabeth slammed the drawer shut. "Mother, why are you such a pack rat?"

"This one's about the big picnic. We went to all the town picnics."

"Forget it, Mother! I'll find it while I'm cleaning." Elizabeth opened the cabinet under the sink. "When was the last time you took out the garbage?"

"We had a grand day ... the whole family. We did things as a family. I miss that."

"Where's the new garbage bags I bought two weeks ago? You couldn't possibly have used them all."

"Did I tell you about the Cuban molasses boat? You must've been three or four when that happened."

"Mother, why are you so ornery? Tell me where you put the bags."

"There were gale force winds. It got stuck on the sandbar and the Gulf of Mexico was tearin' it apart.

Elizabeth opened the pantry door and a roll of black plastic bags fell to the floor. "I found them. Why did you put them here? Oh ... these potatoes are rotten; maybe that's why it smells so bad. I've told you before, if you don't keep them refrigerated, they'll spoil in this heat."

"I'd bet half the island watched the rescue. The waves, crystal sparkles on top and boiling foam underneath, towered over the boat. The wind assaulted us with stinging salt spray and foam."

Elizabeth opened the freezer door. "I'll get your dinner. You'll have to fix it, because I don't have the time."

"The strongest swimmer on the boat swam to shore with a rope tied around his waist. He almost drowned. Mr. McCarthy swam out to help him."

"Now where did I put those ...here they are." Elizabeth pulled a package of pork chops from the freezer, then opened the refrigerator door.

"The men took turns comin' to shore with one rope tied around their waist and another stretched between the ship and shore. They would pull hand-over-hand."

"Oh... how can you get all this in one small refrigerator. You're only one person."

"The cook jumped in without the waist rope and couldn' hold on. He made it to the shallows, when a huge wave crashed over him churning and pulling him to his death."

"Look at this mess. Your beets spilled and the juice is on everything. Mother, you've got three open jars of mayonnaise, two cartons of half-full orange juice, and this milk isn't milk anymore."

"The men on the boat couldn't speak English, so I translated what they said... I felt so important."

"Here's a package of ground meat that thawed and's gone bad. You can't cook it now. I'm going to throw everything out."

"Look, the storm of 1928. I was fourteen."

"Mother, do you know how much food you've wasted. No more going to the store alone."

"Papa wouldn't let us near the windows... said flyin' glass could cut us."

"It's going to be a hardship on me... trying to raise two children alone, work and take care of you. I can't find enough time in the day now ...but I'll do your grocery shopping."

"The house held. Papa built it good. We were stranded 'til they fixed the ferry. My sister and I did a lot of beachcombing." She smiled. "Why, we once found a Spanish piece-of-eight."

Elizabeth walked to the bathroom, picking up clothes along the way. "I'm going to get your laundry together because I've got to get going. Where's your clothesbasket?"

"Yep, stuck on this island for five days. Sister passed away from pneumonia two weeks after we returned to Tampa. Mama blamed the storm."

"Why do you keep moving things from where I put them?" Elizabeth called from the hall. "What is that smell? Maybe a fan in the window will help."

"We lost Father right before the Big War. Against Mama's wishes, your Uncle Ross joined the Army. We didn't see him after that. He got killed on that beach... oh, what was its name? It's here on the tip of my tongue."

"I'm going in circles. It would help if you wouldn't hide things."

"When your Uncle Ross died, Mama wasn't the same. He was her only son, you know... " Her voice softened. "You never know when you see someone if it might be the last time. Mama'd lost her two men, her pillars. She just sat around, didn't talk to anyone. One day... she just stopped breathin'."

"Here's last week's laundry." Elizabeth plopped the basket in the living room. Her mother sat on the couch, encased in an eerie glow of sunlight streaming through the living room window. "I really need to get into the bedroom to change your sheets."

"Ol' Doc Holloway said 'she just lost the will to live'. People do that, you know, when the ones they love aren't near... they lose the will to live."

"I don't have much time today. I've got to get the boys. Danny has an orthodontist appointment and Ricky's quarterback for the team now. He's got an important game tonight."

"Yep, they just lose the will to live... nothin' to live for."

"Look at these ants." Elizabeth followed the trail. "They start at the front door and go all the way to the bedroom."

"I miss them so much... lookin' at these clippin's bring back memories of the people I loved... and who loved me."

"Where's the fan? Mother, how can you lose so many things? I know you hide them to waste my time."

"Look, a picture of the ol' house in Tampa." She held it up. "You can see Papa, Mama, brother, sister and me. I'm the little one."

"Found it! Now maybe I can get rid of that rotten smell. Damn, I need an extension cord. Where's that new cord I bought? I know I put it in here."

"I remember playing hide-n-seek there. It would take 'em hours to find me. To this day, I'm not sure they really looked."

"Here's the extension cord and the screwdriver. Now we're getting somewhere."

"They're here, you know? Right by my side. Three nights ago, Papa held my hand and said he had a surprise for his little Daisy."

"Mother, if you keep hiding things from me, I'm gonna put you in a home."

"He's the only one who called me that. I felt so safe."

"This has been some day and it doesn't seem to be getting better." Elizabeth said. "They were here."

Elizabeth inserted the screwdriver into the little hole in the center of the door handle. "It's open. Maybe now, I can finish." The door parted. Elizabeth recoiled from the odor escaping the room.

"They came to take me home," her mother said, her voice scarcely audible above the haunting melody of the birds outside.

Elizabeth glanced at the couch as the illusion of her mother drifted and vanished. She dropped the screwdriver and clutched the doorframe. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes watered. Her brain strained to comprehend the sight before her. Lying on her bed, was the body of her mother.