Kingdom of Heaven

I am old. Although, I must admit it was not until recently that I felt age move in and unpack its bags. Celia stays with me all day and I never want for nothing, except for maybe a little fire under her backside. She gets here every morning at six thirty on the dot but ain’t no good for nobody until about eight or nine. I always know when she arrives because of all the racket. Sometimes I think she does it on purpose just to wake me. I am already up of course, so it doesn’t really matter. My bladder has me going up and down like a carousel pony most of the night and that is just fine with me. All of my dreams are bad anyway.

The palsy makes my hand shake and I am always burning my fingers with the tea. I never yell because I don’t want Celia to know I burned myself again but my flooded saucer always gives me away. Most days I sit out in a little sun room with glass doors. There is a small black and white TV that I keep on just to have some noise. I have my chair positioned so I can see anybody that walks by but they cannot see me. Sometimes I sic my little Yorkshire terrier Dooley on the man that cleans my lily pond or the electrician or the painters. Dooley is such a funny little thing; he is about the only thing that makes me laugh these days.

My son Harlan stops by on Tuesday after the weekly board meeting to check on me and distract Celia. He runs my husbands company now and thinks he is a big shot. Every Easter he has his secretary send me some white lilies and little marshmallow chickens. Once I fumbled and dumped the whole box of chickens on the linoleum and Dooley ate six of them before you could say Jack Robinson. It upset Dooley’s stomach something awful. I told Celia that it was not Dooley’s fault, that he had a sweet tooth and not to be mean to him. Can you believe that Celia had the nerve to suggest that we rub his face in the mess? Like I could ever do something like that to such a sweet boy. I don’t even think that I could do it to Harlan.

There are always a lot of people coming and going at my house. My daughter Lula lives next door and likes to throw tea parties for her book club ladies in my parlor. Catering trucks full of petite fours and divinity back up to my front door every third Thursday of the month. Once Lula threw a cocktail party that I was not invited to and some lady with the last name of Pettigrew vomited in my geraniums. I never could get anything to grow in that container again except wild onions and chewing gum.

Audrey use to stop by and see me but she is in a home now and can’t get out of bed. Harlan once took me there to visit her but I got halfway down the hall and turned back. My son got irritated with me and told me to be strong. I told him to shut his god damn mouth and go get the car. What in the world would he know about being strong? That was my best friend in that horrible place. Since then, I have tried to call her but the nurse always picks up the line and tells me that Audrey is asleep. God knows what kind of dreams that she must be having in that place.

As long as I have Celia I guess that I will be alright. She knows how to fix good pimento cheese sandwiches and sometimes picks up a chili dog for me at the Varsity. Celia has been with me for forty-two years and her husband Tyrell has been with me for forty-five. Tyrell keeps my boxwoods in check and makes sure there is not a blown out light bulb in the house. He is getting to old to do much of anything anymore, so I just let him boss around whoever might be working at the house that day. Once he backed Harlan’s Cadillac into a lawn care van and swore up and down it was the other way around. The whole incident was actually video taped by our security system but I acted like I believed him anyway and now we have another lawn service.

Today I am waiting on the UPS man. I haven’t decided if I am going to sic Dooley on him or not. Dooley hopes that I do. I can hear Celia running the vacuum upstairs even though we just had the carpets cleaned. I almost tell her to turn off that noisy monster and split a hamburger with me but of course I stop short of it. Forty-two years and Celia and I still play the parts that God assigned us. It is hard to be sad about something that has always been the same way.

Usually Dooley has himself a barking fit whenever the door bell rings but today he does not stir from whatever dogs dream. I holler up to Celia to answer the door but the vacuum drowns me out like the big delivery trucks running up and down Peachtree Street. It was the UPS man. Harlan ordered me some antique glassware all the way from Edinburgh and now it was here. I grabbed my walker and depressed the accelerator. The doorbell rang again. “Ok, I am coming. Hold your horses.” By the time I get to the door, my arms are shaky and I barely have enough strength to open it.
“Hello ma’am and good day to you. We are with the Buckhead chapter of the Kingdom of Heaven and would like to speak with you for a moment about the nearing rapture and how Jesus Christ can guarantee you a spot in heaven.” I feel certain that my mind has gone round the bend. It is a hundred degrees outside and a small group of uncomfortably dressed men and women have chosen today to worry about my soul. I turn my head towards the direction of the sun room and yell “Dooley! There are some people at the front door to see you.”