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Shirlene
Both Stan and Arlene have been fed and are napping. I’m cleaning up the breakfast dishes. After insisting I let him mow the lawn, Cam is in the garage, trying to fix the lawnmower, when the front door opens.
“Hello?” It’s Hattie.
I knew it wouldn’t be long before she appeared. I work to compose myself.
She strides into the kitchen, carrying a plate of homemade muffins covered with plastic wrap. She looks me right in the eyes. There’s an ache inside me. I need her to recognize me.
Hattie sets the muffins down without breaking her assessing gaze. She stands silently and looks like she’s considering her words carefully. Whether it’s due to her superior intellect or her years of navigating a prejudiced world stacked against her, she has had a precise, careful speech pattern. Words are important to her. Even after a few drinks have loosened her up and she throws her head back, releasing a deep, throaty laugh, she never loses her exactitude.
A tear runs down her cheek. “There is something about you that reminds me of Shirlene.”
In close to eighty years of friendship, I’ve only seen Hattie cry three times—when we were kids, when her husband died, and when her adult daughter died. I resist the urge to wail and throw my arms around her. I must be the calm one, for once.
Hattie’s hand floats up gracefully to wipe her face, but her voice is rough and unapologetic. “I miss her so much.”
I take a step closer. “But I’m right here.”
She straightens her shoulders. “Don’t you try to take advantage of me, young woman. I may be over ninety, but my mind is perfectly clear.” She leans on the kitchen table the same way I’ve seen her do in court to intimidate a witness. “Tell me what this is all about. What are you doing in my friend’s house with her husband?”
I vacillate between lying as the distant relative or continuing truthfully as myself. Hattie might not believe the truth because it is too fantastic, but I’ve never lied to her in my life.
“You have a heart-shaped birthmark on your left shoulder,” I whisper.
Hattie points with a nearly imperceptible tremor in her hand. “How do you know that?”
“Your mom used to call you Hattie Heart because of it.”
She moves so quickly around the table that I prepare for her to slap me, but she takes both my hands in hers. They feel cool and familiar. Callused from gardening. She closes her eyes.
It’s me. I’m Shirlene, I say silently in my head.
“Why did Shirlene have a tiny scar on the bottom of her chin?” Hattie asks.
“I had a scar from when kids pushed me down for being friends with you. It was one of the only times I saw you cry.”
Hattie’s eyes fly open. “No one knows that but Shirlene and me.”
“Because we never told anyone the truth for fear my parents might try to stop me from seeing you.” There’s no response. “If you still don’t believe me, ask me other things.”
“What did I teach you to do if a man grabbed you?”
“To use my fingers to jab the eyes and throat quickly and forcefully over and over. Knee him in his nuts.”
“And if he has you pinned?” she asks.
“Bite something, and when ‘the bastard’ pulls back, jab and knee.”
“And then...?”
“Run as fast as my skinny white legs can carry me.”
Hattie gasps. “It’s really you.”
I nod. “Yes, I’m Shirlene.”
She threads her arms about my waist and draws me in. When I put my arms around her shoulders, I comprehend how fragile she really is. I thought of her as healthy and strong when she helped me during my cancer treatments, but the reality is quite different. She is skin and bones. Her shoulders poke out of her thin sweater.
“You’ve lost weight,” I say.
“That’s what you want to talk about? You’re in a completely different body, and you want to assess my lack of body fat?”
I laugh until I cry. She guides me into one of the kitchen chairs, brings the tissue box from the counter, and sits down.
I blow my nose. “You’re really old.”
“That’s not news.”
“You’re going to die. Stan is near death. I should be dead. How am I going to go on without the two of you?”
“We’ll get to that. First, tell me what the hell happened.”
After I reveal the details of this bizarre body-switching journey, Hattie gets the strangest expression.
“But what happened to Rain?” she asks.
“I can only assume she’s dead.”
“She was perfectly healthy and gave up?”
“Oh!” I stand up as if someone shocked my seat.
“What is it?”
“I just remembered a detail I lost in the midst of all this chaos.”
Hattie raises her voice. “Tell me.”
“It’s a little blurry, but I’m pretty sure I heard a voice say, ‘Take care of her’ right before I went into Rain’s body.”
“Remarkable. Did Rain know what was happening and speak to you?”
I take out a glass for some water. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“No. Answer the question.”
“If it was Rain, it would mean she knew what was going on when I didn’t. From what I’ve picked up, Rain is a lost soul, and I’m sorry for her.” I turn on the faucet. “The experience was completely unreal to me. I thought I was dreaming.” I gulp down the water and set the glass in the sink. “I don’t know why my mouth is so dry.” Hattie is staring. “It’s unnerving to have you gawk at me.”
“I can’t help it. You’re Shirlene, but you’re also this Rain person.”
I hurry to my seat across from Hattie at the kitchen table. “Rain is gone. It’s only me. I’ve completely taken over this body.”
“Peculiar.”
“Tell me about it. Every time I go by the mirror, I think a stranger’s in the room.”
Hattie leans on the kitchen table with her chin resting in her left hand and her long fingers framing her cheek. It’s a familiar and comforting gesture. “Yes. It might be easier if you looked like you when we were twenty, but this entirely new physicality is disconcerting.”
Cameron passes the window, pushing the silent mower.
Hattie rises to take a better look. “Who exactly is this guy?”
“He’s the baby’s uncle, but he’s going to raise her. His brother, Chase, is the father.”
“His brother got you pregnant?”
“Not me! Rain. They were together, but both of them seem unfit to be parents. Drug addicts. Apparently, when Rain told Chase she was pregnant, he disappeared. She came to Cam.”
“Why?” Hattie leans against the windowsill.
“She had no other option. She was basically homeless. Cam convinced her to go ahead with the pregnancy because he wanted the baby.”
“Is Cam sleeping with Rain?”
“No. Cam only tolerated her to save the child. He thought she’d take off. Well, in a way, she did. She gave up, and here I am.”
“And now he’s prepared to help you with Stan?” Hattie asks.
“Yes. I’m letting him mow the lawn at this point.”
“I got a good feeling about him yesterday. I’m not happy he lied to me, but you told him to do so.”
“Hattie, I couldn’t have him telling you I was alive. What would you have thought?”
She grunts. “He was insane.”
“See. And I wanted to tell you myself.”
“You wanted to see the expression on my face.” Hattie’s smile is all teeth, and I love it.
“I have another surprise.” I stand up.
“Bring it on.”
I yank my shirt up to reveal my navel piercing.
“What an adorable belly. Remarkable after just giving birth.”
“Hattie!”
“What?” She feigns boredom. “Oh, you mean the holes in your belly button.”
“Kind of titillating, isn’t it?” I wiggle my belly and hips.
Hattie bursts into laughter. We’re both howling when Cameron comes through the back door. I whip my shirt back down and try to act nonchalant.
Hattie switches gears on a dime. “Well, young man, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Cam’s eyes dart to me.
“She knows. I told her.”
“Lying to your elders,” Hattie scolds, but there’s a glint in her eyes, like a cat that has cornered a mouse.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“You should be.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cameron sounds like a little boy. This amuses me because he’s anything but little. I can’t help but giggle.
“And what’s so funny, Shirlene?” Hattie wags a finger. “Having both your husband and this boy lying for you. Telling me you’re some long-lost relative from Australia.”
I begin to cackle uncontrollably, and Hattie loses her composure too. Cam gazes at us like we’ve lost our minds. I wonder if I haven’t.