Challenge to myself

Man, what I wouldn’t give to see my Grandmother in her hay day, I am sure that she was a spitfire, they say Maggie had the hair the color of the sun at high noon on a misty day. The only pictures we had were in black and white, so I often wondered what that color was but I imagine it red and yellow with a misty white halo. Crazy, right? But the morning that I woke up on the other side of the veil I knew that it was all true. I was in some sort of hell and all the other people around me looked just like my minds-eye imagined Maggie to look like, and when I saw her walk towards me I knew something fucked up was about to happen.

* * *

What the fuck did I drink last night? I asked myself as I tried to focus on my surroundings. I rubbed my eyes with my head hung low and wondered why I was sweating. Jesus, I need a red beer. I shook my head, and almost threw up. I washed my hands down my face again and peeled open my eyes. I blinked repeatedly trying to make sense of all the hazy figures surrounding me, as their murmurs finally started to register.

“She comes.”

“It’s her.”

“Our Queen.”

“Bow low.”

But behind all that there was the incessant whisper of a child, “mad,mad,mad Queen.” Over and over the child whispered, frightened voice like a buzz in my ear, and then I saw her. My Grandmother, Maggie. The child’s whisper ceased immediately as she let her gaze rove towards me. When our eyes met a collective gasp echoed throughout the space as the figures all bowed low.

“Granddaughter, I am glad that you answered my summons.” She boomed at me, and I couldn’t help but wince as her voice reverberated against invisible walls of what sounded like a deep canyon. The figures around me whimpered and I glanced toward them noticing that while they had a similar glow to Maggie, they were somehow not as vibrant.

“Grandmother Maggie,” I acknowledged, bowing my head slightly my eyes never leaving hers. As I straightened her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head much like crow trying to figure out what I was made of before she attacked. Weighing me, calculating and hedging her bets.

“What summons, Grandmother? I do not know of what you speak,” I tell her as my heads clears of fog as the seconds tick by.

“Why the reason why you are here is because of all my millions of grandchildren you are the only strong enough to hear and to actually answer.”

My look of confusion must have amused her as she let a bray of laughter that had me wincing as it boomed across the room. “Maggie!” I exclaimed, holding out my hand. She looked to me tilting her head again in a way that made me think of an animal trying to figure out if the bug she sees is worth eating or squishing. “Please your voice hurts my head, it is too loud.” I whispered pushing my fingers against my temples.

“Is this better daughter?” she questioned me; her voice slightly louder then comfortable but something I could handle.

“Yes thank you. Again why did you call me here?” I asked yet again.

“I already told you, must I explain in greater detail? Are you still a child that I must explain it to you in small words?” Her condescending voice was laced with contempt and disdain.

* * *

I rolled my eyes about ready to tell her to fuck off, when I felt a small pinch in my arm, I looked down and saw a small boy, he was mouthing; “mad,mad,mad, Queen,” not a word was whispered aloud but I could see his terror and knew that maybe I should tread lightly.

“Yes Grandmother Maggie, please explain to me as if I’m daft, because as a human female…” I trailed off as I saw a glint in her eye. It was humor, much to my surprise.

“Enough,” she boomed and as she turned on her heel she gestured to me to follow her, “Come daughter of my daughter of my daughters…”

I was not surprised that she was not my actual Grandmother, she seemed ageless, as if she had lived for a thousand years. She was ethereal incarnate. This sucks. I thought to myself as I found myself trailing behind her. All of the other ‘people’ stayed in a pose of prostate.

As I walked behind her the people disappeared and I found myself walking through a forest with epic Douglas firs, ferns and I reminisced this was Washington state. I had not been there in many years and yet the salt on the air and fog and fauna reminded me of a place I grew up in. Living in the desert up until now for the last decade I knew that I was in the presence of something greater than myself. I was in awe; but also scared.

Finally, my Grandmother stopped at a big maple tree and climbed up the rough wooden slats attached to the trunk. I paused because it was like my tree house from when I was a child. The first platform was the sad excuse that my brother and I had erected, janky like fuck. However; climbing up a rope ladder from that rickety first level it turned into a paradise, and whatever my grandmother wanted to say to me awaited me there.

* * *

“I must say Granddaughter, that I was not expecting this scenery. I was hoping for something a little more grandeur.”

“Why is that?” I questioned almost immediately not realizing my tone of voice was not respectful, but more something a sullen teenager would say to a bitchy teacher.

The back of her hand connected with my jaw and the hit sent me sprawling into the opposite wall. As I slumped down the wall, my legs not able to hold me up, I saw black spots dotting my vision. I raised my hand to my jaw as I looked at Maggie with horror. I had never been hit outside a fist fight from high school, and never unprovoked. I was about to learn a lesson about goddess’ temper.

“Fuck You!” I screamed as I jumped up to my feet, taking a fighting stance, I squared off with her. “What the fuck was that for?”