Resurrection of Mother

by Loraine N. Lindsey

conclusion

“It’s two thousand additional with no refund on that amount. That means that if we are unsuccessful in our attempts at resurrection you will receive back five thousand and we will keep seven.”

Mason continued to shake his head and even tried, unsuccessfully, to pry the telephone from Corey’s hands.

“Give me your address... Yes, I know where that is. We should be there in about an hour.” He hung up the receiver, smiling and very proud of himself. “I just scored us a thousand a piece more.”

“How can we go to his house? He may be some type of weirdo.” Mason protested but knew it was to no avail. Once Corey had made up his mind to do something, Mason usually went along to keep him out of trouble.

“Come on; let’s put some items in a bag and go. With the traffic it will probably take us a good forty-five minutes to get there. It’s clear on the west side of Atlanta.” He began pulling items out of drawers that they could use as props in case they needed them. He also took out two scalpels, placed one in his lab coat pocket and handed the other to Mason. “Just in case.”

* * *

After Jack had hung up from talking to the mat at the Resurrection Center the first time, he had hurried into Mother’s room and stopped in his tracks. How was he to get her to the center? Touching was forbidden so he could not pick her up. Maybe he could bundle the covers around her and carry her. But when she woke in the center she would certainly want to know how she got there and then she would be furious with him.

He stood staring at her for minutes thinking but no solution came to mind. So, with dread he had called and asked the nice man at the center to come to him and, amazingly, he had agreed.

This is going to fix it all, he thought as he rushed around the house straightening pillows on the sofa and picking up magazines that lay on the coffee table.

He was growing antsy with anticipation, his nerves on end. He pulled the fireproof box from behind stored winter clothes in the top of his closet. He kept his money in this box instead of the bank. Mother didn’t trust banks. Mother probably had a box like this one hid somewhere with her savings but he had never seen it. Besides, this was all his fault and his money should be used to fix it. He had plenty of money. He helped Mother pay some of the bills and then put the rest of his money in the box. There was over twenty-five thousand dollars; mostly hundreds, some twenties.

After counting out twelve thousand dollars and then counting it again, he placed the remainder back in the box and put it back on the top shelf in the dark, overstuffed closet. He took the money and stuffed it in a brown lunch sack he had brought from the kitchen and then hid it in the top drawer of his dresser.

He was ready. Now all he had to do was wait.

It was over forty-five minutes later when the two men arrived, knocking on his front door and startling him as he sat quietly in the sunken side chair.

* * *

The small brick house stood on a street in one of the lower income neighborhoods of a western suburb of Atlanta alongside other run-down houses. Getting out of the drivers side of the Nissan, Corey spoke to Mason as he got out of the passenger side, “My name is Milton Bradley and yours will be Bill Gates.”

“How original.” Mason said sarcastically. “What if he recognizes those names?”

“Betcha he won’t.” Corey answered as he walked around the car and they began the short trek up the cracked concrete sidewalk to the front door where he pressed the doorbell and stood waiting on someone to answer.

“Mr. Humphrey?” Corey asked as the door to the small brick house opened. Mason stood close behind him watching as the large man looked them over before answering.

“Are you the men come to fix Mother?” The man asked softly, almost shyly, a vast contrast to his towering figure that consumed the doorway.

“Yes, I’m Milton Bradley and this is my assistant Bill Gates.” Corey said with a somber look on his face.

Mason watched as Corey extended his hand in greeting but the man did not respond. I knew he would recognize the names, Mason thought.

Corey held his hand in mid air for a few seconds longer, then slowly lowered it. After waiting for the man to invite them in, which he did not, Corey continued. “May we come in?”

“Yes. Come in.”

The man stepped aside to reveal an old woman’s parlor; at least that was Mason’s first impression. There were chairs and a sofa that were similar to the ones from pictures of his parents’ house in the early seventies. Small end tables flanked the sofa with little porcelain knick-knacks that reminded him of those in his grandmother’s home. The color scheme was dull green and faded orange with a large picture of Jesus knocking on a door over the sofa with different size crosses on either side.

Mason and Corey entered the room and stood waiting on Jack to show them to his mother. At least, Mason hoped that would happen. Yet, he also hoped that it would not happen. Now that he was here, he found himself hoping that the man would start laughing and blurt out what dumb asses they were. But, watching the man move around the room, his head hung low and his eyes darting from Corey to Mason and back again, he knew that this was no joke. This guy really believed that they could bring his mom back from the dead. And, what was going to be his reaction when it did not happen?

“Where is your mother?” Corey asked.

Jack didn’t answer but started walking down a short hall that had three doors, two on the left and one on the right. He stopped at the second door on the left and pointed. The door was pulled shut and Corey reached down to open it.

“Do you want the money now?” Jack asked them in such a whisper that Corey did not hear him.

Mason pulled on Corey’s lab jacket and said, “He wants to know if he needs to pay us first.” Mason wanted to confess that they were bogus but Corey would be really pissed if he backed out now, so close to getting the money.

“Yes, of course. We will need the money up front and then we will refund you the amount we discussed if the procedure fails.” Corey answered in a very business-like manner.

Jack hurried into the room off to the right of the hall and returned with a brown paper bag.

“Don’t ya wanna count it?” He asked.

“That won’t be necessary. Now, if you will just wait in the living room. We will come and get you when the procedure is over.”

Mason watched as Jack hesitated, looked around Corey thru the now opened door to see his mom lying on the bed and then lowered his head and walked slowly down the hall and disappeared.

Corey and Mason went into the bedroom and closed the door.

“Get over there and count that money,” Corey ordered Mason. “For all we know that dummy can’t even count.”

“You shouldn’t be so mean.” Mason walked toward the dresser and emptied the contents on the dresser top. “I feel sorry for the man. His mom has died and he’s expecting us to bring her back to life. He’s counting on it or he wouldn’t be giving us all this money. And we are going to go out there and say... ‘Sorry but she’s still dead’.”

“I explained it all to him on the telephone. He said he understood that it might not work.” Corey walked toward the bed and stood looking down at the old lady. “Go ahead and count out his five grand to give him back. We’ll spend some time in here before we go out. How much time do you think will be enough for him to really think we’re doing something?”

“About thirty minutes.”

Mason dropped the wad of bills to the floor and stood looking in the mirror above the dresser. Corey let out a yelp from his position next to the bed and began backing up until his back was against the opposite wall from Mason.

The old lady slowly sat up in the bed and looked from Corey to Mason, a huge, satisfied grin on her face. “I think thirty minutes will do fine to fool my son.”

Mason could not believe his eyes or his ears. She was not dead, he thought. But, how?

Corey finally drew enough courage to ask the question on Mason’s mind.

“You’re alive. But how?” His words drifted as he lifted his right hand to wipe perspiration off his forehead.

“Oh, I was never dead. I had to teach that son of mine a lesson. When he found me and thought I was dead I thought I’d play it out a while. Then I heard him calling you and I figured that I would play it out all the way. Make him pay, literally.” She adjusted the blanket around her body, smoothing out wrinkles, extremely satisfied with herself. “Maybe next time he will think twice before disobeying me.”

Corey and Mason looked at each other and Mason knew his friend was thinking the same thing, “disobeying” at his age?

Mason knelt down and began picking up the bills that were scattered around his feet. He remained silent, not knowing what to say. Well, I guess this is the closest I’m ever going to get to this much money.

Corey, always the bold one, asked, “What do you mean, disobey? He’s got to be over fifty.” He came around the bed to where Mason knelt to help pick up the money.

“Jackson is special and needs his Mother. I have to do everything for him. Cook, clean, remind him to take his medicine. Sometimes I even have to remind him to bathe.”

“Ooookay.” Corey added, drawing out the words as if he was not sure what to say.

“I can’t wait any longer. I’m ready to see his face when he sees I’m still here and not dead.” She lay back in the bed and continued smoothing out the covers as she took her “dead” position. “Call him in here and tell him it worked. Then take your money and leave.”

“You mean we’re still getting the money?” Mason asked, astonished.

“That was your agreement, wasn’t it? I may be old but my hearing is sharp. I heard him talking to you on the telephone and he was to pay you ten thousand if the resurrection worked; plus the two grand for the house call. Well, it worked as far as he’s concerned.”

“We can’t take your money,” Mason said as Corey shot him a “shut up” glance.

“It’s not my money. It’s his and he has plenty more stashed away. Besides, it will teach him an even bigger lesson if he has to part with his hard-earned money.” Her hands finally rested underneath the covers. She looked the same as she had when they had entered the room. “Now go get him,” she ordered.

“Yes ma’am”, Corey started for the door as Mason put the last of the money into the paper bag.

“Mr. Humphrey, you may come in now.”

They waited very patiently for him to finally walk through the open door. Jack’s eyes fixed on his mother.

“Did it work?” He asked. “Is she alive again?”

“Yes, dear it worked.” His Mother said in a frail voice as she slowly opened her eyes. “These fine gentlemen performed a miracle and brought me back.”

Jack knelt beside the bed crying from happiness, Mason supposed.

* * *

The men from the Resurrection Center must have left while Jack was kneeling by his mother’s bedside, crying, with her hand rubbing the top of his head. He was so thankful to have her back.

He was thankful for all of ten minutes and then she laid into him with a vengeance. “I guess now you’ll believe me when I tell you I need you to come straight home from work. I had one of my spells last night after I went to bed and if it hadn’t been for those men I would be gone and you would be here all alone. What would you do then? How would you survive?”

And she went on... and on... and on. Jack, still kneeling beside the bed, blocked out her ranting and thought how dumb he really was. He had been free from this. He would have survived without her. He could have made it. But, now he would have to wait. Wait on her to die again. Wait on his day of freedom.

Or would he? Now that he knew what would do her in, he could do it again. And next time there would be no call to the Resurrection Center.