Lies

"Well, yes, it is, but -"

"I am so glad to hear your voice at last!" she sounded exited, even as she cut me off.

Who is this woman, I wondered. And why did she say "at last?"

I pondered these things for a few moments until I heard the exotic voice stream through the wires over all the miles and miles that must have separated us say, "Now listen, Aliy, I have a lot to allocate to you and only a few minutes to say it. Now, don’t think me arid for telling you all of this, but, well…I’m your mother dear." She broke the news to me softly. She rushed on to tell me that I was born in Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina in Baptist Memorial Hospital at three-oh-three in the morning.

Then I heard the muffled sound of someone yelling in the background. She must have put her hand on the mouthpiece so she wouldn’t be screaming in my ear and yelled that she was coming. It was as if her voice got a sudden burst of buoyancy.

"Honey?" I heard her ask.

The sound of that word brought me back to reality. I said, as low as I could, so Mommy couldn’t hear, "I think you are a mean, spiteful person. I don’t know who you think you are, but you had better not ever call me again! I don’t know why you want to hurt my relationship with my mother, but LEAVE ME ALONE!"

I slammed the phone down, but somewhere deep inside of me, I felt the first signs of doubt rise. Then I went to take a refreshing shower.

I felt much better after my shower. My head had cleared a considerable amount. I had come to the conclusion that I would tell Mommy all of it: the strange woman, the feeling of ESP that I had met her before, all the way up to what she had said and slamming down the phone.

While I was thinking this, I completed dressing. Then I went down the hall to Mommy’s room and knocked softly.

"Mommy?" I called quietly.

"Mommy?" a little louder now.

I opened the door and went in.

"Mommy, can I speak with you for a minute?"

"Of course, honey, what is it?" she stopped drying her hair and sat down on the bed, motioning for me to join her.

What’s wrong?" she asked as I positioned myself as close to the end of the bed as possible. "Why are you acting like I have leprosy?"

"Well, you know that call we got before I took my shower?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yes," she said slowly. "What about it?"

"Well, um, it was this crazy lady who said she was my mother. She knew my name, where and when I was born and everything."

I went on to relate my feeling of having met her; how her voice had sounded like music to my ears and everything I could remember her saying.

"Well, honey, you have met that woman before." She sounded as if she was choking on the words, but I couldn’t understand why. "Was she one of your friends? Was she playing a joke on us? Mommy, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Mommy?"