Authors: Cory Hiles
Tags: #coming of age, #ghost, #paranormal abilities, #heartbreak, #abusive mother, #paranormal love story
June did not have quite enough time to fully
brace herself for my impact but had still managed to brace herself
enough not to fall over completely when we contacted, but she did
stumble backwards a step or two.
I landed squarely into June’s arms and she
somehow caught me. As June’s arms wrapped around me, her small
scream of shock ended, but curiously another gasp of shock was
emitted from behind her.
For just a split second I thought June’s butt
had vocalized the scream. But then I saw that a woman with a far
more robust frame than even Miss Lilly was cart-wheeling her arms
as she teetered backwards, having been hit by June’s mute rump when
she’d stumbled backwards.
The huge woman fell backwards in slow motion,
like a tree falling in the woods. Beginning her topple slowly and
picking up speed as she fell. She screamed during the entire
descent to the ground and landed hard on her huge bottom, making a
squishy sound—like a water balloon bursting—that was audible even
over her shriek.
June’s face was a perfect mask of shock and
concern as she rapidly descended the stairs, still holding me, and
said, “Oh my God! Mrs. Fischer, are you ok? I’m so sorry.”
I was not about to let go of June, and she
managed to continue holding me with one arm as she reached her
other arm down to the recently beached Mrs. Fischer.
Mrs. Fischer sat on the ground for a minute
and had, thankfully, stopped screaming. I stared unabashedly at
her. I had never seen so large a person, even less one in such a
state of disarray.
She was dressed in a drab gray outfit. Gray
slacks, gray jacket, highly polished black shoes, and a white
blouse beneath the jacket. Her suit would likely have looked very
professional at any other time, however at that moment in time she
did not have the luxury of appearing dignified and looked very much
like a juvenile elephant instead.
In her crumpled, elephantine state, one black
shoe had fallen off and lay beside her, revealing pink socks with
images of kitten faces printed on them. The legs of her slacks had
pulled up revealing large, pasty-white, lumpy calves. The crotch of
her slacks had bunched up tightly, and I winced unintentionally at
the wrinkles and folds of flesh that were outlined beneath the
tight fabric, and imagined how uncomfortable pants that were
bunched that tightly would be for me.
Her jacket and blouse had also pulled up
several inches showing off two rolls of lumpy, puckered white flesh
that hung down over the waist line of her slacks. The sloppy rolls
of flesh reminded me of a soft serve ice cream cone that had begun
to melt.
Her heavily mascara and eyeshadow dressed
eyes were wide open, but still looked tiny when set against the
massive backdrop of her sagging face. Gigantic flabby cheeks
appeared to intrude into the lower rims of her eyes, the sides of
her piggish nose, and her mouth all at once, giving her face a
scrunched up appearance like a pug puppy.
She was gasping for air, opening and closing
her tiny mouth in over-exaggerated gestures, opening it wide on
each swift inhale, and puckering it on each rapid exhale. Each time
she exhaled her jowls inflated and then jiggled as they
decompressed.
Mrs. Fischer’s over rouged cheeks had
reddened even further, emphasizing the fact that all of her makeup
appeared to have been applied with a trowel. Her excessive amounts
of makeup gave her an overall countenance every bit as charming as
that of a dead and bloated clown.
Her auburn hair was neatly combed and had not
budged a fraction of an inch during all of the chaos that had
recently beset the poor woman, indicating that voluminous amounts
of hairspray had been applied.
I marveled at the bromdingnagian refugee,
wondering how someone who obviously put a lot more effort into her
appearance than her exercise regimen could still look so alarmingly
repulsive.
After a minute, the behemoth squatting on her
prodigious rump on the front lawn managed to calm herself down
enough to realize that June’s hand was still extended to her and
that June’s face was still agape in an expression of concern and
fear.
Mrs. Fischer reached up and took June’s hand
to pull herself up. I had a moment of fear then, certain that we
were all going to tumble to the ground together as soon as this
woman’s full weight pulled against June’s dainty frame.
My fear proved unfounded. With a couple of
somewhat unladylike grunts, and a very unladylike fart, the
gargantuan girl gained her feet once more and immediately began
smoothing out her clothing.
“Are you ok, Mrs. Fischer? I’m so, so very
sorry!” June apologized.
Mrs. Fischer finished her primping, located
her shoe, and put it back on before she could be bothered to reply
to June.
“Miss Devon,” the woman said in a wheezy,
panting voice while giving June a stern glare, “as a social worker,
I have suffered many indignities from the families I’m
investigating, and have been forcefully removed from many porches
over the years. But never…never, in all my time—in all my many
cases—have I ever been thrown from a porch by someone’s ass!”
June looked horrified, assuming that she had
just committed a grievous crime against the poor, bovine woman. I
felt pretty bad myself, knowing that in reality the corpulent
woman’s tumble had been my fault, but that June was going to take
the blame.
Then, unexpectedly, Mrs. Fischer’s
countenance softened and she smiled a broad smile, eventually
breaking out into a breathy laugh that reminded me of a particular
cartoon canine who hung around with a criminal.
“I do hope I have not dented your magnificent
lawn beyond repair, Miss Devon,” Mrs. Fischer said through her
raspy laughter, and her whole body undulated as she laughed.
June’s countenance of fear changed into one
of confusion, and finally into one of relief as she understood that
the woman had only been feigning anger. June began to giggle,
quietly at first, but then louder and louder until she was
positively shaking with laughter, and she had to set me on the
ground to keep from dropping me.
I stared at the two women who were both lost
in fits of laughter and had a mental image of a cucumber and a
pumpkin telling jokes to each other in the garden. The vivid image
in my mind made me laugh along with the ladies.
Eventually the commotion and howling laughter
drew Miss Lilly out onto the porch to investigate the ruckus. She
burst forth from the opened door and stood there with her eyes
opened wide revealing two huge white orbs with dark pools in the
center. She was holding her wooden spoon up like a medieval mace;
ready to brain anybody who might be causing harm to her family.
“What in de holy Hell be goin’ on out here?”
Miss Lilly demanded to know. “All dis hootin’ an’ carryin’ on be
soundin’ like de weasel done got in de henhouse!”
The sight of Miss Lilly rushing fearlessly
into what could have been a formidable fray should have had a
sobering effect on the three of us—and I was, in fact, sobered a
little—until I glanced down and saw the dent that Mrs. Fisher’s
butt had actually left in the grass. At the sight of the concave in
the lawn I lost my wits all over again.
Miss Lilly was not amused by our revelry. She
crossed her arms and stood at the top of the steps, tapping her
foot impatiently. Her puffy pink lips were pressed so tightly into
a small pucker that they’d turned white, all the blood having been
forced from them, and her recently immense eyes were considerably
narrower than they had been when she emerged from the door.
“You’s all bes’ be knockin’ off dat
jack-jawin’ an’ be getting’ to tellin’ Miss Lilly what be goin’ on
out here, o’ else I gonna be bustin’ some heads wit dis here
spoon!”
We did our best to mollify ourselves, and
managed to pull it off after a few more snorts, chuckles, and
particularly from Mrs. Fisher—farts.
June set about gathering all the papers she
had scattered when I leapt into her arms, and explained the events
that had led to such an uproar as she did so.
When June was done explaining, Miss Lilly
just shook her head, clucked her tongue a few times, and said, “Wit
all de people fallin’ on dey butts today it be a miracle if we be
needin’ any toilet paper by de end o’ de day. Ever’body gonna bust
dey butts right off’n dey backsides afore dark, fo’ sho’.”
We all had a laugh at Miss Lilly’s dire
prediction, including Miss Lilly, and then June said, “Well, let’s
go into the house and have seat before we do any more damage.
Lilly, will you please sit with us in the living room?”
“If dis be ‘bout keepin’ Boo roun’ here den
you could no’ keep me away wit a pack o’ wild gators!” Lilly
responded.
I smiled inside and out, feeling the love of
June and Miss Lilly radiating from them like heat from a floor
register. Even when Joe had been alive, I had never felt so much
love directed towards me.
We all entered the living room and sat down.
I sat in between June and Miss Lilly on one couch and Mrs. Fischer
took up nearly the entire couch opposite us, all by herself.
After June had introduced all of us formally,
Mrs. Fischer began talking in her wheezy voice.
“Ok, as you know, I’m here as a
representative of the State of Washington, in order to determine
whether or not remaining in this residence would be in the best
interest of young Mr. Krimshaw.”
Miss Lilly took a personal affront to the
possibility that anybody might possibly dare to think that this
might not be the best place for me and said, “O’ course dis be de
bes’ place for de Johnny! Here him got’s all de love and care dat
him not be getting’ from dat kooky woman dat done give birth to
him! If anybody tink dey gonna find de boy a better home den dis,
den dey be dumber den a dead fish!”
June put her arm across me to pat Miss
Lilly’s thigh and shushed her gently. “Let the lady finish, Lilly,
it’ll all be ok I’m sure,” she said.
June’s voice betrayed the fact that she was
not nearly as sure as she professed to be. But Miss Lilly hushed
herself anyway, and instead of grumbling, she glowered across the
coffee table at the porcine geisha.
Both June and Miss Lilly put a protective
hand on my legs as Mrs. Fischer continued.
“Normally, in a situation where abuse is so
obvious, the State will sweep in and take immediate custody of the
abused or neglected child…”
I hoped the elephantine lady would not notice
that I was currently being abused right before her very eyes, as
both June and Miss Lilly were digging their fingernails
absentmindedly into the fleshy part of my thighs.
“…however, this is an exceptional case, which
would explain why I wanted to come out here with you today, Miss
Devon, to conduct the preliminary interview as quickly as possible,
and spare the child any further distress.”
The grip on my thigh on June’s side lightened
up to something slightly less than unbearably painful. However Miss
Lilly still seemed to be trying to strangle a boa constrictor that
was hidden in my jeans.
The rotund representative of the State
continued, “I have a list of questions that I was going to ask
Johnny, but…”
The death grip returned to both thighs.
“…after being ass-sulted on the porch…”
I thought I might be bleeding from both
thighs at this point.
“…and then threatened by a very intimidating
woman with a wooden spoon…”
I thought I heard my femurs crumbling into
dust.
“…and further being interrupted and having my
intelligence compared to that of a deceased carp…”
I wondered briefly what it was going to be
like to go through life as a double amputee.
“…it is clear to me that Mr. Krimshaw is in
the company of two lionesses who would gladly forfeit their own
lives to protect him. It is also abundantly clear from the leap of
faith that Mr. Krimshaw took into your arms, Miss Devon, and the
tears of joy that are currently welling up in his eyes as he sits
safely between the two of you, that he is as much in love with you
two as you are with him.”
I was fairly certain that the two women
flanking me could crush a cue ball in their bare hands, and were
practicing the trick on my legs as the lady continued to talk.
“Therefore, Miss Devon, as a representative
of the State of Washington, I hereby declare that it is the State’s
position that Johnny is currently in a safe, loving environment
that is undoubtedly in his best interests, and furthermore,
temporary custody shall be granted to you until such a time as a
hearing can be scheduled to determine his final residency.”
I let out a yip of relief and let the tears
flow freely down my cheeks. Not because I was happy at the words
Mrs. Fischer had just said, but because my lionesses had finally
relinquished their steel vice compressions on my legs.
June and Miss Lilly were wearing nearly
identical expressions of relief and joy and tears streamed freely
down each of their cheeks in swift diamond rivulets.
June raised a shaking hand to her face and
let her fingertips rest gently upon her quivering lips, and tried
to speak, but found she could only stammer. Finally she quit trying
and just let out a deep heart wrenching sob and turned to me,
wrapping me in a full body hug.
Her entire body was trembling as she held me,
and she sobbed unabashedly into my hair. I wondered briefly if it
was necessary for every sobbing woman in my life to get snot in my
hair, but quickly decided that I really didn’t mind.
Miss Lilly was much more reserved in her
weeping, but still squeaked a couple times as she rubbed my
back.
I shuddered to think what might have happened
to the poor dumpling that sat across from us if she would have
tried to remove me forcefully from my two new mothers.