>>> Item number 5866 from WRITERS LOG9211B --- (536 records) ----- <<< Date: Thu, 12 Nov 1992 16:42:28 JST Reply-To: WRITERS Sender: WRITERS From: Mike Barker Subject: submission: mommy dearest and one for you to slash at, friends and neighbors... thanks - mike Mommy Dearest M. Barker 1992 4337 words Mud bubbled in the bathtub, spreading a sulphurous reek throughout the house. "Plop." A huge bubble raised up and popped while she waited. She sniffed at the reeking exhalation, her face wrinkling towards her nose. Then she heard the tapping downstairs and turned, the tense lines relaxing. "Come on in, the door's open." Karen stood up and shook the wrinkles out of her clothes, kneading one leg that had gone to sleep while sitting on the hard top of the toilet. Her clothes still drooped in the humidity of the room. She took a quick look in the mirror after running a towel over it to get rid of some of the steam and lumps of mud covering it. She ran her fingers quickly through her curling mop, then shook a few stray bits of clay off into the sink. Phil stamped up the stairs and looked in. His nose twitched at the smell in the room. "Still at it, huh?" "Yeah. No change yet. We'll fix that tonight." He looked at the mud, then at her face. He stepped inside. "Karen, why don't you take a break for a while. I'll watch." "You're welcome to it. I'll fix some dinner, maybe change, then watch while you eat. The church called and said they could send a priest over tonight. I told them to go ahead. I hope he's doesn't take too long." "That's why you think we'll fix it tonight? Just because the priest is coming? You know there are always other ways to take care of it." "No, just.. call it woman's intuition." He stepped back. "Sounds like my favorite libber has been breathing fumes too long. Now go on. You know I can take care of it." "I know. Oh, and if the office calls and you catch it, tell them I'm not doing anything for them tonight. Tonight I've got special plans. OK?" Karen touched his cheek quickly with one hand as she maneuvered past him in the narrow bathroom. He turned to kiss her palm, but she'd already pulled the hand back down and walked out. "Blooop." Another monstrous bubble spewed its reeking contents into the air. Phil picked up a towel and wiped at his face, then pulled a magazine from the rack and turned the limp pages. He leaned against the sink, with the light behind him. He turned the pages slowly. Once he stopped, turned the whole magazine sideways and unfolded one page. He stared at the sideways magazine. Then he glanced out the door, his face flushing, and folded the page back in. When Karen got back, she'd changed into fresh clothes and washed her face in the other bathroom. Some color had come back to her cheeks. She hadn't bothered to try to do anything with her hair. He was engrossed enough in the magazine to miss the sound of her coming up the stairs, and she saw it before he could slid it away again. "Phil - I don't think I want that in here now. Drop it in the bedroom." He looked at her. "Won't hurt any. You know that. And the writing is really good. You read it, don't you?" "Of course, but tonight's.. tonight's going to be special. Tomorrow you can leave it here, just like usual." He shook his head. "You really are letting those vapors get to you, aren't you? Look, there's a really good article in here about lifestyles. Did you see it?" "I don't read that kind of stuff. What's so good about it?" "Well, there's a survey about parenting methods, and a little about how the mudpacks have changed everything. Did you know mudpacks used to mean something for your face? You ought to read it, I can't explain it. What about dinner?" "Your's is on the table. Go ahead and take the magazine with you. But if the priest turns up, you hide it before you answer the door. We don't need any extra problems. OK?" They changed places, her eyes checking the mudpack. She tried to remember the brochure that came with it. Was the yellow supposed to get darker or lighter? How did Phil remember all that stuff, anyway? She checked the meat thermometer Phil had put in like the magazines suggested. Just 40 degrees centigrade on the outside, a little hotter than a body. Hard to believe it made that much steam. Must be the chemicals. Phil yelled from downstairs. "That court fight you've been watching just interrupted my show." She leaned against the tub. It was slippery with steam. "What happened?" "It's over. They found against the owner. Said she showed a 'consistent pattern of prejudice against single parents' in her employee reviews. So - the court's taking over the company, and she's going to have to pay $500,000 to each of her employees." Karen whistled. "Just for that? They're really tightening the screws, aren't they?" "Yeah. Hey, my show's back on again. Talk about it later, OK?" She prodded the mud with a fingertip. The slow ripple bounced off the sides and spread, turning into a general shuddering as the ripples criss-crossed. She turned the tap on and let a little water run into the mass. Then she tapped again and watched the ripples. They were faster and lasted longer this time. "Barp" A smaller bubble near the edge shot mud onto her. She jumped, then brushed some clots off the edge back into the tub. Phil was right, she really was letting this get to her. Well, she hadn't spent as much time watching it as he had. The doorbell ringing made her jump. She dropped her cigarette in the toilet and flushed it while yelling down to Phil. "That's gotta be the priest. Are you ready?" She stepped outside the door of the bathroom in time to see Phil's back as he went to answer the door. The jumbled sounds of the greetings drifted upstairs, then Phil waved the black-suited man up the stairs ahead of him. "Father Dillard! Is it really you?" He hugged her for a minute, then held her out at arm's length. "I made a special request to be here tonight. After all, this kind of thing doesn't happen every day, does it? Especially to two of my favorite people?" She ducked her head and bit her lip, then looked back at him. "You'd know better then we do. Does it?" He tugged at his collar, flushing slightly. "Still prickly, Karen? I promise, I'll try to be good tonight." Phil pushed past him into the bathroom and surveyed the mud. "Karen, did you put water in again?" She sighed. "Yes, I thought it needed it." "Look, we agreed I'd take care of this, right?" "But it was getting stiff again." "Well.." Father Dillard stepped in and looked at the mud. He squatted down and put his hand gently on top of it. Then he looked up at them both. "I may not have as much experience as you two with this one, but I'd say it's just fine. Look, you're both worrying about it, and it's almost over. Now let's pay attention to finishing the job, not argue about the little irritations on the way. OK?" Karen touched Phil's hand, lightly. "He's right, Phil. Just a little longer. Say, is the harness ready?" Phil frowned a moment longer, then relaxed. "You're both right. I just keep worrying about it. But we'll know soon, won't we? Karen, if you're really set on finishing it tonight, I'll get the harness ready. How long should we wait?" "Brrup" Father Dillard looked at the mud geyser that spread goo over his hand, then at Karen and Phil and shrugged. He got a handkerchief out and started wiping at some of the spots on his suit. "I talked one of the acolytes into watching for me, so I've got all night. Whenever you're ready is fine with me. But it really doesn't help to put it off, you know." Karen leaned against the doorjamb. "Whenever you're ready, Phil." "But are you sure? I mean, maybe we should wait a little more.." "You said you'd take care of this, right? You've been doing just fine, don't get nervous now. Go on down and get the harness ready, and Father Dillard and I will get ready here." Phil looked at both of them, then at the mud. "Well, if you're both ready, I guess I am too. I'll get the harness warmed up." Phil turned and walked down the stairs. Father Dillard waited until they heard sounds in the kitchen, then walked closer to Karen. He lowered his voice. "Is he going to be all right? I mean, this will change both of you, and he'll have the harder part. He seems a little.." Karen patted his hand. "We'll be fine. He's just nervous, that's all. It's natural at a time like this. But by tomorrow he'll have everything under control again. You'll see. I'll be glad when things get back to normal around here." Father Dillard looked at her, sharply. "Well, he decided he wanted this, and I've let him take care of it. He almost seems to be enjoying it all." Dillard shook his head. "Karen, don't you think.." She started to raise her hand, and he stopped. He took a deep breath, looking at the mudpack. "OK, Karen. Your business." She nodded, hands on her hips. "Look, just let me leave my phone number after we're done. I want either one of you to call me if there's any questions or trouble. This is the first time you've been through this, isn't it?" She laughed, and patted his shoulder. "You sound like our parents. We've got so many phone numbers, advice - I didn't realize everyone we knew would want to tell us all about it. But I'll make sure Phil calls if we need anything." She let the priest squeeze her hand, then squatted down and opened the cabinet under the sink. "Should have everything we need right here. Oh, that's where Phil put the brochure. I've been looking for it. Let's see.." She got the brochure out and started thumbing through it. Father Dillard looked at her, then at the prepared kit with the color-coded plastic bottles. "I know my part comes later, but you want the green bottle. That's the one in every kit for this time. You just pour the whole thing in, and in about five minutes, well, we'd better be ready." She looked up, her lips parted and eyes wide. "I didn't realize it was that easy. You're sure?" He nodded. "Yes. But can I have a minute or two for preparations myself? After all, I do have some work to do too." "Oh, sure. Do you need some space or something?" He reached into his pockets and started pulling out the parchment, consecrated water, and other odds and ends. Then he paused and looked at the mud-spattered cabinet and the toilet top with the smears from Karen's shoes where she had tried to find a comfortable way to sit on the edge of the sink. "Burroup" The fresh exhalation and spray of mud settled it. "Maybe I should set up somewhere else." "The bedroom is the closest." "That's fine, and Phil may want to lay down afterwards anyway. Say, do you have a small blanket we can use?" Phil came up the stairs slowly, his tread unsteady. He left the buttons on his shirt undone. Father Dillard stood in the hall and watched him. "Phil, straighten up. I can't believe the harness is that heavy." Phil took another slow step. "It shifts my balance, and I'm practicing. Won't be hurrying so much later, right?" Dillard shook his head. "Who suggested that?" Phil grinned up at him. "My father. Said practicing ahead of time made it easier. It made sense to me, so I've been working at it for the last few months." "He's perfectly right. I just don't remember seeing many people your age who'd take the time." Phil took the last step on the stairs. "I promised myself that I'd handle this. So I've spent some time making sure I'd do it right. Just common sense." Dillard shook his head again, with a slight smile. "That kind of common sense is pretty uncommon, Phil. And actually doing something about it is even more unusual." Karen stepped out of the bathroom. "Father, Phil - are you both ready? If you are, let's get started." She backed into the bathroom, with both men following her. Inside, the priest looked around, apologized, and got Phil to back out again so they could switch places. Karen was at the head of the tub, Phil in the middle, and the priest at the door. The priest helped Phil kneel beside the tub. "You can reach it easily now? Be careful of the harness, OK? Try not to snag it on anything." Phil looked up at him. "Does that happen a lot?" "Sometimes, and it is messy." "Dangerous?" "Not really. But it makes things more difficult, so be careful." Phil stretched his arms over the tub, leaning forward carefully. Then he sat back on his heels and lowered his arms, avoiding the harness. "I think I'll be alright. Anything else?" "I'm ready. Do you want a short prayer first?" Karen chuckled. "Father, I thought we weren't going to delay anymore. How about a silent prayer while I pour?" She tilted the green bottle over the mud while she was talking, and let the thick green fluid inside glob down into the mud. It disappeared into the yellow mud, the green jelly first making a little bubble partly underneath the mud and then sinking out of sight. She patted the bottom of the bottle to make sure she got all of it out. Within a minute, the yellow mud started changing to green from the edges. The yellow parts pulsed in tiny bubbling pots ahead of the spreading tinge of green. The odor in the room thickened as gases escaped from the rapidly changing mud. The shaking mass started to raise in the middle, while the edges dropped. A spreading web of reddish veins seemed to rise out of the dropping edges, then fell back into the greenish mass. Phil licked his lips as he watched the web drop back out of sight. "Father, is that normal?" Father Dillard raised his eyes for a moment, then closed them again. His hands held his rosary, the fingers sliding over the worn surface. "Yes, Phil. It is just what I'd expect at this point. Just relax." The mound continued to pull together into the middle of the tub. The pulsations slowed down as it firmed, then settled into a steady beat starting at the bottom and moving up. Father Dillard looked at his watch again, then leaned forward and touched the edge of the mass in the tub. Phil turned a little to look at him, awkward on his heels. "Something's wrong, isn't it? What's the matter, Father?" Dillard took a deep breath. "Nothing unusual. But I want to make sure. Phil, let me have your hands." Dillard guided Phil's hands under the pulsing blob in the tub. He looked at his watch, his fingers against the side of the blob. "You won't find this in the brochure, but it works. Used to do it all the time. Alright, Phil, push and relax.. take a deep breath.. push and relax.. there, I think that did it." The top of the blob split, edges pealing up and back as the inner layers pushed out. Layer after layer pushed into sight, then pealed back, until at last the mudpack formed a waving crown of thin layers around the dark hole in the middle. "Phil, you're going to have to reach inside. Careful! You know what to do then?" Phil's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Bring.. uh, lift and pull gently. Right?" Phil leaned forward and slipped his hands into the dark opening. His eyes closed as he moved his arms, the layers that had been mud sliding against his elbows. "I think I've got it." Father Dillard looked at Karen, then laid his hand on Phil's shoulder. He felt the harness strap under the shirt. "Alright, Phil. Slowly, now. Karen?" His eyes went from her face to Phil's other shoulder. She took a step forward and put her hand where he wanted it. Phil lifted. Father Dillard leaned forward and pulled on one edge of the mudpack, changing the shape of the hole a little as Phil lifted. Then he reached back and picked up the blanket he had brought from the other room, expertly making a nest for Phil to lay his burden in. He squeezed Phil's shoulder, then flipped the blanket edges up, covering the bundle. "You two congratulate each other for a minute. I'll be in the bedroom. Phil, don't take too long." He turned and walked quickly out. Phil held Karen's hands for a minute, then leaned forward and kissed her. The harness pressed into his chest, reminding him that his work wasn't finished. Karen's eyes shone as he stepped back. "Phil, you've done a great job. I'm proud of you." He squeezed her hands. "Well, you've been behind me all the way. Now let's go see what's next." "You go ahead. I'll finish cleaning up in here." She looked at the mass quivering in the tub. "You could leave it until tomorrow. The brochure says it's OK." "No, I'll clean it now. It's about time we had our bathroom back. You may save money by using do-it-yourself stuff, but you don't have to be sloppy about it." Phil looked around the bathroom while Karen picked up the red bottle. "Go on, Phil. It'll just take me a few more minutes. Besides, I'll bet Father Dillard wants to talk to you alone for a while. Just remember it's your life, not his." Phil walked into the bedroom and sat on the end of the bed. Father Dillard glanced up, then down at the bundle he was balancing on one arm while writing on the parchment. "Phil, don't relax too much now. This part's done, but it's just a start. There's a lot more to do now." Phil rubbed at his face, feeling the harness bite into his shoulders. "I know. But at least the waiting's over. So.." "Phil, this is going to affect the rest of your life. You understand that, don't you?" "I understood that when I started. But you're right, somehow now it's a lot more real. Funny, I've spent a lot of time dreaming about this, and now that the time's here, I'm not sure I believe it." Dillard looked at him, then at the bundle in his arms. "Look, Phil, right now you've got a job to do. And it's one that should help you believe it. Here, you've got the harness ready. Hold your son while I finish the forms." "A son?" Dillard snorted. "That home exowomb kit didn't have a sex indicator? You got cheated, but otherwise it did just fine. Like one of the ads says - better than mama, without the fuss." Dillard handed Phil the bundle and turned back to the forms he was filling out. "Phil, you want me to put you down as father, right?" Phil turned down a corner of the blanket, peered in, and smiled. "Yes. Phil Carver, SSN 9895-50-9488." "Mother?" Phil glanced up. Father Dillard was concentrating on his pen for some reason. "Just put down the exowomb." Father Dillard dropped his pen. "Phil, do you really want to do it that way? I mean, we could put Karen down as the mother. It.. it's not that important anymore, is it?" Phil's face tightened. "No. I'm taking full responsibility for my son. Now look, this is my decision, not yours. So fill in the form." Father Dillard leaned back against the dresser. "Phil, don't you think it's better for a child to grow up with two parents? At least for appearances?" "You really think anyone still notices? You just said it wasn't important, and now you're saying it is." Phil paused for breath, then plunged on. "What is it with you priests? I thought you were just supposed to fill in the birth certificate the way the parents wanted it. I didn't know you argued with them about it." Father Dillard looked at the floor and wiped at his face. "Listen to yourself, Phil. You talk about parents, don't you? Two of them? Not one." Phil stared at Dillard. "I really don't think you're in a position to argue, do you?" "I suppose.. well, I.. I don't know, Phil. I'll put down the womb if that's what both you and Karen really want." He squatted and fumbled under the dresser for the pen he'd dropped. Karen stepped into the bedroom and dusted her hands together. "Well, Phil's doing fine, and I flushed the mudpack down the drain. Pour in the stuff, wait, then rinse. You'd never know we'd had it in there. Now, I've got to get to work early tomorrow, so if you're done, Father, I hope.." Dillard looked at the paper, his knuckles white on the pen. "Karen, Phil and I were discussing what name to put down for the mother. I was hoping you'd be willing.." Karen held out the brochure. "Right here - Exowomb Registry Number 345-781-9834. All right?" Phil grinned, his hands busy inside the blanket. "I told you, Father. We may live in the same house, but some things are private. You should understand that." The priest looked at Phil with the baby and Karen leaning against the chest of drawers. He shook his head again. "Karen, Phil, I know it's really none of my business. But I want to make sure you've thought this out. I suppose I'm not really in a position to understand your lifestyles, but you share so many things already. Are you sure you shouldn't do this together, too?" Karen straightened up. "Father, get it straight. Phil decided to have that baby, not me. Between the mudpack and the harness, that baby is his responsibility. You want me to take that away from him. We aren't going to do things that way. Got it?" Dillard sighed. "It's just that.." Karen held her hand out, a stop sign cutting off the flow of words. "Father, don't start lecturing us about lifestyles. We invited you in to fill in the birth certificate. Do that, then please leave. One more word about Phil's child and we'll have you in court for harassment. Don't think I'm joking, either." Phil looked up, his hand gently stroking the fine hair on his baby's head. His jaw muscles were tight. "That's right, Father. I've spent nine months taking care of the exowomb, and I'll finish raising my child without interference. With your background, you ought to be able to understand that." Dillard dropped his head on his chest. "All right. I.. well, at least I had the sense not to suggest you get married to take care of the baby. That would be really hard for me to explain in court." Both of them looked shocked. Then Karen started laughing, and Phil joined in. Father Dillard laughed too. Karen closed her mouth, then smiled and handed him the brochure. She started giggling again. "Hard to explain - that's good, Father. That's really good." He half-bowed, then filled in the rest of the form quickly. Phil pushed his shirt back, folded the blanket down, and turned the baby's face to the blue underneath. Father Dillard's head jutted forward a little. "What is that?" Phil looked down at the baby. "Oh - a new flavor from the Men's Life shop in the mall. The blue one is blueberry grape, I think, and the brown is plain old chocolate. They've got a new line called 'Daddy's Pride' and I thought I'd try it." Karen pushed her hair back. She looked at the baby busily suckling, and at the proud man holding him. Then she looked at the priest. "Father, I know Phil. He's probably got an extra one tucked away somewhere. Do you want it for your baby?" Dillard blushed, and looked at Phil. "Could I? He's getting a little old for the harness, but sometimes I let him talk me into it. He loves new flavors, too." Karen looked at both of them and shook her head. "I hate to be a wet blanket, but I really do have to get up early tomorrow for work. Why don't you two parents move down to the kitchen? Then you can talk about babies as late as you want, without disturbing me." --