FLY, FLY AWAY

I was sitting on the back porch, as comfortably as possible. A large pillow was on a kitchen chair near where my lef leg, heavy as lead, swaddled in a plaster cast, rested. My mother had brought me a chocolate covered cupcake (from my favorite bakery) along with a big glass of cold white milk. The sun had been warm but had moved to the front of the house and I was getting chilly. ‘Mother,’ I called. ‘Will you help me back inside. I’m getting cold.’

Almost a month ago my new ten speed bike hit a rock in the road. It fell over, with me on it. It took time but finally Mother convinced me that the rock had not jumped up at me. It was I who wasn’t being watchful. I rode into it. I knew that was true but couldn’t bear the blame for this big, heavy cast on my leg, for missing weeks of my final high school year, for being a nuisance to my family-and–they didn’t let me forget the big doctor bills or the cost of the bike repairs.

Oh, lord, how my leg itched. Dad had uncoiled a wire hanger so I could reach inside the cast and scratch to my heart’s content. That helped for a day or two until my scratching started to bleed. The plaster was turning red. Another trip to the doctor who removed the entire cast. Ah, while he cleaned my wounds I had a moment of light headed heaven. But I was not free, Dr. Saloman put back a smaller one with a metal heel so I could walk a little, cautioning me not to over-do. Dad carried my crutches and led me to the car.

At home the crutches were put in the basement and the wire hanger in the trash can. It seemed to me I had been punished enough and was out of jail, on parole. A small, insignificant, unchangeable thing happened. It rained, rained hard, all week. I was still incarcerated. Finally, the sun won its battle with the clouds and lit up the spring sky. The grass was taller, greener. Mother worked a bit in the garden and came on the porch to tell me that her lilac bushes had buds and to relax, keep me company for a while. She brought out a pitcher of lemonade and two cupcakes from the freezer that she microwave zapped for 20 seconds. We also shared a warm closeness when she showed her sympathy for me, understanding my discomfort, loss of school time and added, ‘Darling, you aren’t any bother. I love you.’ She also told me not to worry about the bills. Insurance will cover most of them. I, in turn, thanked her for putting up with me, doing for me. ‘Mother, I love you, too.’ We hugged.

Over her shoulder I saw a small black bug land on my cupcake. A second one came and got stuck in the soft icing. A third looked over the situation and flew away. None had lingered over Mother’s cupcake. She took mine to the garbage pail and gave me hers. No sooner was her plate moved to my side of the small porch table, two more flies stopped for a taste of chocolate. I was angry, rose and swung my napkin at them, lost my balance and fell down the four wooden steps, landing hard on my tush. Mother was shocked, stood there screaming for help. No one else was home. I was close enough to the railing to grab it and pull myself up. I got a break, but not in my foot–just a lucky one. I was not hurt. Mother put her arms around me and hugged me close again. Her racing heart beat against my chest.

We went inside to calm down. Mother took the last of the frozen cup cakes out of the freezer, zapped them. She looked out on the porch, talked to the little bastards, ‘Flies, go eat someplace else. All the chocolate is gone and you had better be too.’ They went.