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PoetTree
09-22-2011, 12:42 PM
She's given up on kerchiefs. I tell her she looks fine, better than fine: she could be a Kenyan queen, with her black dome shining bright as any crown. I bring in glossy pages torn from the National Geographics at the downtown library: strong women with glistening bald heads, wearing coils of gold on giraffe-long necks. "See, Mama," I say, piercing one to the wall with a thumbtack, "You look just like her." It's hard, then, to turn and see Mama, to take her in. Her smile is garish, too many teeth below that bony beak-nose, and her black-bead eyes are glassy hot. "She's your Mama," I remind myself, and dig down deep to swallow what's creeping up my throat.

I'm here to give a sponge bath. They have an orderly to do it, a big man named Antoine, who can flip those old people over easy as rag dolls. But Mama-- who has her **** carried out in a pan-- is scandalized by the thought of a man bathing her. "Can you imagine," she whispers, "that man's hands all over your body?" She's clearly appalled, but I do find myself imagining Antoine's hands all over me, palming that fat yellow sponge and soaping me down, flipping me onto my stomach…. Damn. Here's Mama in her nubbled cotton nightie and I'm thinking about loving on Antoine. Something is sick in my head.

I turn down the sheets and lay a towel on her pillow. Mama's gown is washed thin and holds someone else's stains. It's clean, though, reeking of bleach that mingles with the sweet-rot smell of her skin. I untie the bow and her flesh scalds my fingers. She's running a fever. Again? Still? Her body is all bones, a skeleton dressed up in skin.

I begin bathing her, the way you'd bathe a baby. Not that I've ever washed a baby. But when Mama first asked me to do this, after she got too sick to stand in the shower, I looked it up on the library computer. Typed "How to give a sponge bath" in the search box. Got a lot of kinky sites, but nothing serious. Eventually I found a parenting site that said how to wash a newborn. Not too far off, I guess. You save the head for last, in case you ever need to know. It keeps them from getting chilled.

She moans when the sponge touches her skin. Whether it's because it hurts or feels good, I don't know. I'm not going to ask, because it won't matter, she needs cleaning either way. I rub down her arms first, it's the easiest part. Her arms still look like arms, her elbows are elbows, her hands are knobby but still human hands. I keep up the chatter, tell her about my community college classes, about the notes my professor scrawled on my last creative writing assignment. "He used the word 'sapient.' I looked it up, and it sounds bad but it isn't. He liked it, Mama."

I'm washing her shoulders and her breast is next. Mama has her eyes closed, and I feel stupid-jealous that I have to look when she doesn't. I take a deep breath and dab at her remaining breast. It's so thin, it feels like it might tear if I rub too hard. The thought creeps in that I nursed at this breast, once. I know this but can't really believe it's fact. The thought of a baby attached to this withered appendage is disgusting. "She's your Mama." There's just a shiny pink scar where her other breast used to be. She's as flat as boy; flatter, because even a boy's got a nipple. I suddenly feel excessive, with my ridiculous C-boobs. I feel overdressed, somehow, and underdressed at the same time.

Mama's eyes are still closed, so she won't see me turn my head as I give a customary swipe down below. I know from what I read online that you should spread the folds of a baby girl, wipe good from front to back, to prevent infections. But. That's asking a lot. Too much. I'm sorry, Mama, but it's too much.

Now I help her turn, trying to be gentle, but she whimpers anyhow. I'm telling her about my roommates, they drive me crazy with their acrylic nails and their weaves and their press-on lashes, and two of them have implants, I swear they could hardly be called human now, what with their fake this and fake that…

You would think the back would be easy. A broad clean sweep and you're done: no crevices, no missing parts, nothing to make you think about your dying Mama and sex in the very same breath. But Mama is hunched, her shoulder blades protruding, black and featherless. Featherless, of course. But I can't shake the thought that they ought to be wings, a sprouting pair of white downy wings. I cannot move; the sponge drip, drip, drips onto the bedsheet.

Mama turns her head to look at me, and her shoulder blades flutter, useless. God help me. It's too much. I'm sorry Mama, but it's too much. I lose it, I stand and there and sob over my mother's naked body. Mama manages to roll, she faces me and opens her arms wide. I crawl into bed with her and press my face against her one shriveled breast. She strokes my hair and lets me cry, doesn't tell me to shush. She whispers, "I am still your Mama," and my heart is full and breaking.

How will she fly without wings?

hillwalker
09-22-2011, 01:58 PM
Wow - for someone who professes to be a poet at heart you do a fine job of weaving a story that's both compelling and repelling in equal measure (and please treat both as compliments).

I often take perverse pleasure (so I'm told) in finding at least one flaw in the short stories posted on here, but there's not a single word out of place in this one...

To quote one of the best - 'awful and wonderful' indeed. Well done.

H

PrinceMyshkin
09-22-2011, 02:13 PM
The sentence her shoulder blades protruding, black and featherless is a knock-out! And the last line, picking up on it, finally resolves the ambivalence between the narrator's queasiness at her task, and her love for her mother. Way to go!

Steven Hunley
09-23-2011, 10:08 PM
Whew! Was this good or was this good???!!!

Fine job and sorry I almost missed it entirely. Each and every word counted.

kittypaws
09-23-2011, 10:52 PM
Poet Tree

Extremely well written...and my soul/spirit goes out to you and your Mama. In my opinion, a piece like this can only be written from the heart ~ from first hand experiences. I am glad that you laid with your Mama....you will never forget it, nor will she; it will be a life long blessing.

May the Cosmos shine upon you both!

smiles and warm well wished~
kittypaws

PoetTree
09-25-2011, 10:49 AM
Thanks y'all.

TheBearJew
09-25-2011, 11:22 AM
I echo the above. Wowing. Sometimes, this kind of stry can end up no more than tedious banter, but here, your words really conjure up the powerful imagery you attempted to create. Very raw and emotional.

edenjane
10-01-2011, 03:51 AM
I know there have been a lot of wows but... wow. Way to make me tear up at work. Beautifully written, it's like it's painful somehow for the reader but it isn't cruel. I haven't written in months and reading this makes me want to start again.

PoetTree
10-01-2011, 02:04 PM
Thank you edenjane. Can't wait to see what you write :)

Delta40
10-01-2011, 05:54 PM
What a moving story with all the elements of realism. It reminded me of a short story by a guy (can't remember his name) bathing his demented mother. I noticed the relationship between the two became apparent in how he bathed her. I think you've achieved the same here.

PoetTree
10-01-2011, 07:03 PM
Wow, there's ANOTHER story about someone bathing their mother? Hm, now I'd like to read it and see the differences... anybody know what the story is called?

Buh4Bee
10-01-2011, 08:06 PM
Well done.

Jack of Hearts
10-04-2011, 01:17 AM
Very fine work.







J

PoetTree
10-04-2011, 10:54 AM
Thanks, B4B and Jack :)

AuntShecky
10-06-2011, 04:15 PM
Every sentence sings (this is coming from someone who usually dislikes the present tense in short stories.) Beautifully written, evocative, authentic. I wish I had more words of praise to tell you how remarkable I think this work is, but that would be fawning.






http://www.online-literature.com/forums/showthread.php?p=1076508#post1076508

blank|verse
10-11-2011, 12:39 PM
Hi PoetTree, finally got round to this one. It reads like this is purely autobiographical; if so you have our sympathies. Either way, this is a heartfelt, affecting (and funny) piece of writing.

I felt the autobiographical element is both a strength and weakness. The weaker lines are those where emotion takes over too much. To this end, I would consider dropping the first and last lines. To open with such a moralizing statement is a mistake, 'show, don't tell', right? You don't need such an obvious framing device here. And (sorry, but…) I'm hearing a boy band ballad with the line 'How will she fly without wings?' so I think that needs to go.

But I think the majority of the rest is well written, and doesn't spare any detail. The fantasy about 'Antoine' is an hilarious, instinctively human moment, and as Shakespeare knew, such a stark juxtaposition of comedy with tragedy heightens the feelings of both; my only thought is I wonder if introducing it in the second / third paragraph (depending on if you're counting the opening line) is too early, but that's only a minor issue.

I'd consider cutting some of the detail about the internet in the fourth / fifth paragraph, which is unnecessary – like the question 'Where do people find this stuff?'. It takes the reader away from the hospital scene and doesn't add anything to the story; I think you want to keep the reader there at all times, and not introduce distractions like this. (And this highlights how strong the 'Antoine' episode is, because you've introduced comic relief, yet not switched scenes.) But the rest is good, because it still relates to your mother, and the comparison with bathing a child resonates well. Also, later, when the narrator is telling her mother about her flatmates (which I felt could have been the only fictional moment in the story) was well chosen, as again, it resonates well with the theme of body-consciousness.

The inclusion of 'sapient' is interesting as it has a double-meaning. It can mean 'wise' but also 'pretending to be wise', which could relate to the narrator's creative writing, but also resonates with her situation with her mother - out of her depth, but having to convince herself she's in control, with the help of the internet, for the sake of her mother.

The ending is very powerful, and you've given yourself a very difficult scene to write, but I think it would be better not to 'tell' the narrator's precise emotions, let the reader do the feeling. At this point, the narrator is not in control of her emotions, but to state things like 'I lose it' tells us she is in control, which works against the effect you're trying to create. Likewise 'and my heart is full and breaking' weakens the emotion because it resorts to cliché. The stronger moments are when you simply recount what the mother says, how the narrator hugs her mother and so on.

In terms of language, there are a lot of short sentences that follow the conventional subject-verb-object structure, which makes for a repetitive rhythm, and makes it feel like a diary entry and is where the (possibly) autobiographical element comes in too much. For some reason, even though fiction is supposed to be convincingly realistic, when it's too realistic, it stops sounding like fiction. I think that's part of the deal with fiction, as Coleridge said, the 'suspension of disbelief' and all that. Anyway, the figurative moment at the end comes as a surprise after so much literal language. Maybe that's good, but risks being out of character. I would be tempted to foreshadow this with perhaps a few, subtle, figurative references or even single words – sheets could 'flap' at some point for example – just to build this into the text and make it feel more inevitable.

But overall it's a very strong, honestly expressive and affecting piece of writing which carries a real emotional charge.

PoetTree
10-18-2011, 01:25 PM
Thanks so much for the time you gave to your review, blankverse. I really appreciate it. For the record, it isn't autobiographical, I'm relieved to say my Mama is alive and well, but I tried to imagine what such a thing would feel like.

You were right about the first line, but I'm fond of the last. I really like your suggestion about the sheets "flapping," it's brilliant, but I wouldn't feel right stealing it. I'll keep the idea of an extended metaphor like that in mind for my future writing, though. I nipped a few things here and there per your suggestions, so thanks for your help.