Short Story
An Epiphany
by Suneeta Misra (Washington, D.C.)
Uma throws the self-help book she has been trying, unsuccessfully, to get into. “This blasted cancer has taken all the energy out of me,” she says on the speaker phone to her friend Renu, who is in the fashion merchandising business. Uma is a divorced high school teacher who has been diagnosed with stage III ductal carcinoma, or breast cancer. This friend has been an unlikely source of support because she seems to have an almost nonchalant opinion of the disease. Unlike her other “pre-cancer” friends, she neither fears nor excessively sympathizes with Uma’s condition.
“You need to be positive. Remember that wise suggestion by somebody or other: If you wish for something hard enough, the whole universe helps you achieve your goal.” Renu is not a deep thinker and cancer she feels is something a person can overcome by just blocking it out of the mind! What you don’t deal with is something you don’t worry about, is her way of thinking.
“Right” says Uma. “It’s easy for you to say, think positive. I hate it and it’s hard to feel good with all this hair falling out in clumps.” She pulls at her hair to prove to herself that she has not imagined it all. As though on call, a bunch comes loose in her hand. Ugh! She feels.
“Well think of all the pretty scarfs you can wear. You are lucky to be so fine-boned. You will look beautiful completely bald.”
Uma thinks for the thousandth time that Renu surely has a few gray cells missing. Chemotherapy would have no effect on a brain dead person like her, she thinks churlishly. What is there to burn - not brain-matter for sure. “You expect me to think of scarfs at a time like this. I feel like throwing up!”
“I'm coming to see you this afternoon,” Renu says. She feels unsettled by this kind of negativity. In her own life she has tried unrelentingly to see the positive in the most difficult of circumstances. Now, her world is shaky. “I want to talk to you anyway. I want to finally leave Mark. He disrespects me all the time and not just some of the time. That’s it!”
Uma thinks she cannot possibly tolerate an hour of Renu's inane chatter. To Renu, simple things like shopping and talking to a friend can keep the doldrums away. It has never been that way for Uma . And now more than ever she feels the unfairness of it all. Why me? is a question constantly screaming in her head. “No please don’t come. Learn from my example and take a stand. I'll call you in the evening.”
“You promise to let me visit later?”
“Yes, yes. It will take time to camouflage this death-like pallor. I feel for those morticians who have to prepare the body, and especially for those who donate organs.”
“Why do you need to sound so callous?”
“Well,” says Uma. “That’s the reality! Thank God they refused to take any of my organs. At least I will make an aesthetically pleasing cadaver. All in one piece! Maybe I will donate the whole kit and caboodle to science. My daughter and her friends can practice on me.”
Her friend shudders, hearing this kind of talk. “You know, you are the only one who can get away with talking about such morbid things with me. That’s because I think of you as my dearest friend.” Her eyes mist over at the thought of not being able to have Uma in her life. They have been friends since childhood.
“Right,” says Uma cynically. That’s because nobody else will tolerate Renu's silly chatter for long, she thinks. Out loud, she continues her talk of donating her body to the teaching hospital nearby. “That’s a kind of charity you know. I don’t want the residents to see me naked though! Can you imagine all those young people seeing this shriveled body sans clothes.”
“I don’t think that kind of talk is funny. I wish you'd lay off the dying thing. All of us have to go; some just have longer than others,” says Renu sounding almost philosophical.
Wanting to make her way to the bathroom, Uma now attempts to get off the phone. “OK, OK, my wise guru, bye. I have things to do, places to go, before I can rest.”
“And you worry me. You know I heard of this smiling guru who practices laughing yoga…”
“Worry about yourself. I don’t need some smiling guru telling me how to improve my karma now.” Too late for me, she reflects.
“Bye!” Uma puts the phone down
She looks at the bottle of Tylenol with codeine on her way to the bathroom.
Just you wait, little girl, Mama will come for you, she comforts herself.
The front door opens and her seventeen-year-old son Rohan comes in. Uma hears the bang of the door as he slams it shut. I wish he would close it gently, she thinks. If it breaks there is no adult able-bodied enough to fix it. Unfortunately, she had not raised Rohan and her budding doctor daughter Maya, who has flown the coop, to be skilled with their hands.
“Mom, how are you feeling? Can I bring you something?” he says distractedly, looking at a text message on the phone. His mind is full of the insecurities of a teen on the cusp of adulthood. Try as he does, he cannot remain sad over his mother’s tenuous health for long.
“No, I'm fine,” says Uma with a longing in her chest for the loving little boy he used to be. “How was your day and how is the calculus class coming along? You haven’t come to me with any problems of late.”
“I'm fine, Ma. I go to the teacher for help in the mornings. You should go and sit on the porch. It will make you feel better. Lying in bed all day long is no good for anyone!”
“When did you become so wise? You need to start thinking of personal statements and applications, Mr. Senior.”
“Leave it be, Mom. There’s plenty of time to think of the future.” His mind is focused on the here and now. That girl sitting next to him on the bus, in particular.
“OK, OK, I'll go out,” says his mother with a grimace. She thinks maybe a bit of sunshine may not be such a bad thing. Just the feel of the sun on her face usually does the trick of keeping negative thoughts at bay. Using her cane she slowly makes her way to a chair on the back porch.
“I'm making a sandwich and then going and shooting some baskets with my friends,” he calls after her. Soon he will be off to college. The loneliness grips her now. She calms down after a moment or two. Maybe it will not be for long, she thinks. She looks at the rabbits and the squirrels chasing each other. It is an almost perfect day. I wish I was that driven by instinct. No emotions, just survival. She hears the front door close as Rohan lets himself out. He just comes and goes. Never a thought for sitting with me for a bit.
“Which one of you is my friend who comes to visit me always?” she asks the squirrels. She takes some nuts out of her pocket and extends her hand. One of the squirrels stops and looks at her. He moves to take the nuts that Uma has dropped on the deck besides her. He sits eating for a while and then takes some and scurries away to the tree to store them someplace under the leaves. After a while he reappears and repeats the same pattern till all the nuts are hidden away. He then comes back and sits watching her. She drops a few more nuts and he ignores them just looking intently at her. No comfort food for you, she thinks. No wonder you squirrels are never fat.
Another squirrel runs past and takes the nuts. The first squirrel stays put sniffing the air around and then grooming him- (or herself). “So, Nutkin, what say you? What should I do? Pretend life hasn't changed or make a big brouhaha of it? I could also go off to an ashram someplace waiting to die. But that would not be practical right now and we Asians are practical to our dying breath. There is the insurance to deal with and then the matter of extending my medical leave. I wish life did not have to be so complicated!”
The squirrel looks up, stares. seemingly to say that it is all up to her, shakes his head and then scurries away. Uma looks disappointed. Et tu! She sits quietly again, watching the birds. She takes out a book from her pocket and begins reading.
After a while she looks up. A little boy of about 5 or 6 is standing there. “Who are you? How did you wander into my backyard?” she says amazed. She looks around to see if he has a companion. Not seeing anybody she looks back at him. The boy looks at her with the same brown-eyed intensity of the squirrel and shakes his head. Uma laughs and shakes her head too, to clear it of surreal thoughts.
“Can I call your Mommy?” she says. She picks up the cellphone lying next to her and points to it. She sees that it is dead anyway. The boy continues to look towards her. She gets her cane hoping to get closer to the boy. He backs away. She sits down again. “Don’t be scared.” I'm a nice lady. But there are not so nice people around too. You should go home to your parents. He doesn't say anything and then sits down on the grass.
“Are you a little prince from a different world? Or maybe Lord Krishna come to slay the evil snake inside of me?" The boy begins to play with the stalks of grass around him. This is crazy, she thinks. He is just a little boy. I should go call the police. Maybe his mom is by the front yard. I should go and see.
She gets up and the boy also gets to his feet. "Don’t go. See I won’t get up anymore." He sits down, too. He lifts his fist and opens it. Inside are the nuts she offered the squirrel. He eats one. “Oh my God,” exclaims Uma. “Those were in the squirrel’s mouth. You shouldn't be eating them.” The boy smiles and throws some back at her. She sees them lying near her feet and then picks one up and looks at it. It is from the same batch of mixed nuts that she gave the squirrels.
“Who are you?” she whispers. The boy gets up and starts jumping in the grass. A few squirrels come out and run about. They take the nuts lying by her feet. The little boy laughs and claps his hands soundlessly. Uma wants to go to the boy. “Please,” she says, “Can I come and touch you?” He shakes his head and continues to race around. She begins to cry.
Suddenly, the backyard gate opens and an old lady steps in. “So this where you got to? I was so worried. I was on the phone for a few minutes and he wondered off,” she says looking at Uma. “You look so worried, dear. Are you all right? I was not far away. I can be scatterbrained sometimes. Come, my boy, let’s go, or I'll be in big trouble.” She pulls on the boy’s hand and goes out of the backyard. “Bye, dear, and thanks for playing with my little prince for a while. He so loves the squirrels, you know. He must have followed one of them into your backyard."
Uma sits there for a long while with her right hand on her cheek in wonder. She opens her left fist and sees the nut. The porch door opens and Rohan looks outside. “Mom, have you been sitting outside all this while? It's been hours since I left. You'll get a sunburn. Come in now."
“You know what happened to me today, Rohan?” She puts the nut inside her pocket.
“What, Mom?”
Uma looks thoughtful, wondering if it was all a dream. “I saw the most amazing things in my own backyard.”
“Yes Mom,” her son replies with a bored look on his face. “We have birds, rabbits and a whole ton of squirrels who you spoil by constantly feeding. You need to get out more and travel. Your chemo is over for now. I promise to keep stocking your squirrel feeder."
“You think I can trust you?" She looks at him wonderingly, realizing that he is all grown up now.
“Yes, you can, Mom. I take care of myself pretty well now - especially since you got sick. I can always go and live with Dad for a few months.”
“You are not my little prince anymore. I think I will take your advice and go find my peace in some far off land."
She goes into her bedroom, sees the bottle of codeine by her bedside, shakes her head and mutters, “There's still so much wonder in this world, so many roads not traveled. I haven't a minute to waste. She picks up the phone and dials. “Can I talk to any travel agent who is free?” she enquires.
“You need to be positive. Remember that wise suggestion by somebody or other: If you wish for something hard enough, the whole universe helps you achieve your goal.” Renu is not a deep thinker and cancer she feels is something a person can overcome by just blocking it out of the mind! What you don’t deal with is something you don’t worry about, is her way of thinking.
“Right” says Uma. “It’s easy for you to say, think positive. I hate it and it’s hard to feel good with all this hair falling out in clumps.” She pulls at her hair to prove to herself that she has not imagined it all. As though on call, a bunch comes loose in her hand. Ugh! She feels.
“Well think of all the pretty scarfs you can wear. You are lucky to be so fine-boned. You will look beautiful completely bald.”
Uma thinks for the thousandth time that Renu surely has a few gray cells missing. Chemotherapy would have no effect on a brain dead person like her, she thinks churlishly. What is there to burn - not brain-matter for sure. “You expect me to think of scarfs at a time like this. I feel like throwing up!”
“I'm coming to see you this afternoon,” Renu says. She feels unsettled by this kind of negativity. In her own life she has tried unrelentingly to see the positive in the most difficult of circumstances. Now, her world is shaky. “I want to talk to you anyway. I want to finally leave Mark. He disrespects me all the time and not just some of the time. That’s it!”
Uma thinks she cannot possibly tolerate an hour of Renu's inane chatter. To Renu, simple things like shopping and talking to a friend can keep the doldrums away. It has never been that way for Uma . And now more than ever she feels the unfairness of it all. Why me? is a question constantly screaming in her head. “No please don’t come. Learn from my example and take a stand. I'll call you in the evening.”
“You promise to let me visit later?”
“Yes, yes. It will take time to camouflage this death-like pallor. I feel for those morticians who have to prepare the body, and especially for those who donate organs.”
“Why do you need to sound so callous?”
“Well,” says Uma. “That’s the reality! Thank God they refused to take any of my organs. At least I will make an aesthetically pleasing cadaver. All in one piece! Maybe I will donate the whole kit and caboodle to science. My daughter and her friends can practice on me.”
Her friend shudders, hearing this kind of talk. “You know, you are the only one who can get away with talking about such morbid things with me. That’s because I think of you as my dearest friend.” Her eyes mist over at the thought of not being able to have Uma in her life. They have been friends since childhood.
“Right,” says Uma cynically. That’s because nobody else will tolerate Renu's silly chatter for long, she thinks. Out loud, she continues her talk of donating her body to the teaching hospital nearby. “That’s a kind of charity you know. I don’t want the residents to see me naked though! Can you imagine all those young people seeing this shriveled body sans clothes.”
“I don’t think that kind of talk is funny. I wish you'd lay off the dying thing. All of us have to go; some just have longer than others,” says Renu sounding almost philosophical.
Wanting to make her way to the bathroom, Uma now attempts to get off the phone. “OK, OK, my wise guru, bye. I have things to do, places to go, before I can rest.”
“And you worry me. You know I heard of this smiling guru who practices laughing yoga…”
“Worry about yourself. I don’t need some smiling guru telling me how to improve my karma now.” Too late for me, she reflects.
“Bye!” Uma puts the phone down
She looks at the bottle of Tylenol with codeine on her way to the bathroom.
Just you wait, little girl, Mama will come for you, she comforts herself.
The front door opens and her seventeen-year-old son Rohan comes in. Uma hears the bang of the door as he slams it shut. I wish he would close it gently, she thinks. If it breaks there is no adult able-bodied enough to fix it. Unfortunately, she had not raised Rohan and her budding doctor daughter Maya, who has flown the coop, to be skilled with their hands.
“Mom, how are you feeling? Can I bring you something?” he says distractedly, looking at a text message on the phone. His mind is full of the insecurities of a teen on the cusp of adulthood. Try as he does, he cannot remain sad over his mother’s tenuous health for long.
“No, I'm fine,” says Uma with a longing in her chest for the loving little boy he used to be. “How was your day and how is the calculus class coming along? You haven’t come to me with any problems of late.”
“I'm fine, Ma. I go to the teacher for help in the mornings. You should go and sit on the porch. It will make you feel better. Lying in bed all day long is no good for anyone!”
“When did you become so wise? You need to start thinking of personal statements and applications, Mr. Senior.”
“Leave it be, Mom. There’s plenty of time to think of the future.” His mind is focused on the here and now. That girl sitting next to him on the bus, in particular.
“OK, OK, I'll go out,” says his mother with a grimace. She thinks maybe a bit of sunshine may not be such a bad thing. Just the feel of the sun on her face usually does the trick of keeping negative thoughts at bay. Using her cane she slowly makes her way to a chair on the back porch.
“I'm making a sandwich and then going and shooting some baskets with my friends,” he calls after her. Soon he will be off to college. The loneliness grips her now. She calms down after a moment or two. Maybe it will not be for long, she thinks. She looks at the rabbits and the squirrels chasing each other. It is an almost perfect day. I wish I was that driven by instinct. No emotions, just survival. She hears the front door close as Rohan lets himself out. He just comes and goes. Never a thought for sitting with me for a bit.
“Which one of you is my friend who comes to visit me always?” she asks the squirrels. She takes some nuts out of her pocket and extends her hand. One of the squirrels stops and looks at her. He moves to take the nuts that Uma has dropped on the deck besides her. He sits eating for a while and then takes some and scurries away to the tree to store them someplace under the leaves. After a while he reappears and repeats the same pattern till all the nuts are hidden away. He then comes back and sits watching her. She drops a few more nuts and he ignores them just looking intently at her. No comfort food for you, she thinks. No wonder you squirrels are never fat.
Another squirrel runs past and takes the nuts. The first squirrel stays put sniffing the air around and then grooming him- (or herself). “So, Nutkin, what say you? What should I do? Pretend life hasn't changed or make a big brouhaha of it? I could also go off to an ashram someplace waiting to die. But that would not be practical right now and we Asians are practical to our dying breath. There is the insurance to deal with and then the matter of extending my medical leave. I wish life did not have to be so complicated!”
The squirrel looks up, stares. seemingly to say that it is all up to her, shakes his head and then scurries away. Uma looks disappointed. Et tu! She sits quietly again, watching the birds. She takes out a book from her pocket and begins reading.
After a while she looks up. A little boy of about 5 or 6 is standing there. “Who are you? How did you wander into my backyard?” she says amazed. She looks around to see if he has a companion. Not seeing anybody she looks back at him. The boy looks at her with the same brown-eyed intensity of the squirrel and shakes his head. Uma laughs and shakes her head too, to clear it of surreal thoughts.
“Can I call your Mommy?” she says. She picks up the cellphone lying next to her and points to it. She sees that it is dead anyway. The boy continues to look towards her. She gets her cane hoping to get closer to the boy. He backs away. She sits down again. “Don’t be scared.” I'm a nice lady. But there are not so nice people around too. You should go home to your parents. He doesn't say anything and then sits down on the grass.
“Are you a little prince from a different world? Or maybe Lord Krishna come to slay the evil snake inside of me?" The boy begins to play with the stalks of grass around him. This is crazy, she thinks. He is just a little boy. I should go call the police. Maybe his mom is by the front yard. I should go and see.
She gets up and the boy also gets to his feet. "Don’t go. See I won’t get up anymore." He sits down, too. He lifts his fist and opens it. Inside are the nuts she offered the squirrel. He eats one. “Oh my God,” exclaims Uma. “Those were in the squirrel’s mouth. You shouldn't be eating them.” The boy smiles and throws some back at her. She sees them lying near her feet and then picks one up and looks at it. It is from the same batch of mixed nuts that she gave the squirrels.
“Who are you?” she whispers. The boy gets up and starts jumping in the grass. A few squirrels come out and run about. They take the nuts lying by her feet. The little boy laughs and claps his hands soundlessly. Uma wants to go to the boy. “Please,” she says, “Can I come and touch you?” He shakes his head and continues to race around. She begins to cry.
Suddenly, the backyard gate opens and an old lady steps in. “So this where you got to? I was so worried. I was on the phone for a few minutes and he wondered off,” she says looking at Uma. “You look so worried, dear. Are you all right? I was not far away. I can be scatterbrained sometimes. Come, my boy, let’s go, or I'll be in big trouble.” She pulls on the boy’s hand and goes out of the backyard. “Bye, dear, and thanks for playing with my little prince for a while. He so loves the squirrels, you know. He must have followed one of them into your backyard."
Uma sits there for a long while with her right hand on her cheek in wonder. She opens her left fist and sees the nut. The porch door opens and Rohan looks outside. “Mom, have you been sitting outside all this while? It's been hours since I left. You'll get a sunburn. Come in now."
“You know what happened to me today, Rohan?” She puts the nut inside her pocket.
“What, Mom?”
Uma looks thoughtful, wondering if it was all a dream. “I saw the most amazing things in my own backyard.”
“Yes Mom,” her son replies with a bored look on his face. “We have birds, rabbits and a whole ton of squirrels who you spoil by constantly feeding. You need to get out more and travel. Your chemo is over for now. I promise to keep stocking your squirrel feeder."
“You think I can trust you?" She looks at him wonderingly, realizing that he is all grown up now.
“Yes, you can, Mom. I take care of myself pretty well now - especially since you got sick. I can always go and live with Dad for a few months.”
“You are not my little prince anymore. I think I will take your advice and go find my peace in some far off land."
She goes into her bedroom, sees the bottle of codeine by her bedside, shakes her head and mutters, “There's still so much wonder in this world, so many roads not traveled. I haven't a minute to waste. She picks up the phone and dials. “Can I talk to any travel agent who is free?” she enquires.
