Once a Mother
                                       A short story by G.E.Wolfe

     Last night Lila Stern was forty years old. She had a
small get-together of close friends in her studio. It turned
into a large drunk-out of many people she never met who
came early and stayed late. It was Sunday. Lila had a
hangover. Empty beer cans were all over her three room
apartment. Lila grabbed a can and took a long pull on its
stale contents. The warm alcohol kept her jangled nerves
on a leash. A headache loomed somewhere in the
background behind a wall of aspirin. Her thoughts moaned.
Lila consternated over two hours of work on a painting she
started to fight off the bone tremors.
      "The colors were all wrong.", she thought.
She had been trying to force pigment out of her last
dying tube of Titanium White. The hues of her efforts
turned to mud. She started another canvas. Morning pushed
into day. Her intense concentration aided her recovery.
Working around white with yellow gave her some new
ideas. An old smiling plaster Buddha stood in the corner
waiting for Lila to pay homage. She went over to her
Friend Buddha and made three counter clockwise motions
on his tummy. Lila felt better.
      Lila's second story window faced down the street. From
her easel she could see her mother on the sidewalk coming
her direction.
     "Dammit, dammit, dammit, I don't need any crap from
her today!", she said aloud. Lila slammed her brushes to the
floor, moved a folding chair over near the Buddha and sat
down. She hoped her mother would not see her behind the
door. Lila wished for a miracle. She listened as her mother
climbed the stairs and stood for a long moment outside the
door. The knob turned and the door opened to a slit.
Her mothers voice said, "Lila, Lila honey, are you
there."
     Lila sat motionless in the corner. Suddenly the door
crashed open hard against the wall. The old lady shuffled
into the room and began to gulp what was left in the beer
cans around the apartment, spitting out the ones with the
cigarettes and tossing the can to the floor. Betty Arnout
turned to Lila's corner. She had a broad smirk on her face.
The old lady raised a filthy finger and fingernail to point at
the Buddha.
     "I want my Buddha back." Said the mother in a raspy
Aussie accent.
     "No!" Lila fired back.
     Betty snarled and said, "What do you do, sleep with
it?"
     "Name something cleaner-nicer-safer?," Lila asked with
deep disgust.
      "Casper the Friendly Ghost, that's who!" The old lady
with the two or three brown teeth, laughed long and loud.
Lila was not enthralled.
     "You're smelly and drunk!" Shot Lila. "But then you're
always smelly and drunk. Take your scroungy ass outa
here!"
     "That's my Money Buddha and I want it, I need some
money."
     Lila shouted in despair. "I don't have any money!" She
stood up and bowed to the Buddha and said in harsh tones,
"You may rub the Wishing Buddha's gut and wish for
booze. Now get out. Out. I've-got-work-to-do!"
Betty grunted, and let five gallons of ugly gas into the
room. She sniffed the air and began to strut around the
cluttered space like the Inspector General.
      "Work! You call this work! This is a second story shit
pit. Smells like a turpentine factory. But then it always
smells like a turpentine factory. It's a goddam blinkin fire
trap. Where do you sleep? Look here, it's a goddam blinkin
army cot. You'll burn us all up one day, you're goddam
blinkin self included."
      When Betty raged, Lila always turned to stone. She felt
an odd mix of guilt, sympathy and pure hate for the old bat.
     Lila took deadly aim on her Mom and said, "You
repulsive rat bag. You came in here from your favorite
infested dumpster acting like the Queen Mother. You're a
walking corpse. Your grisly stink stays on me for months."
Betty knew she had lost this engagement. She couldn't
take much more.
     Lila's scream cracked the plaster, "Get out of here before
I call the Dog Catcher from Hell!"
All of the fight drifted out of the old dame. She buried
her face in her hands and bent low at the waist. Betty jerked
from side to side like some insane animal. Her wild sobs
sounded as if her soul had escaped through her mouth.
Suddenly quiet, her rags stiffened and Betty fell forward,
resting on her knees and the top of her head.
Lila sat and watched without emotion.
"Did she finally croak?." She thought. "Shall I call an
ambulance? What am I feeling a this moment? Oh God! I
don't think I'm impassioned at all. Wait a minute."
Lila got up and looked for her conte crayons and
newsprint pad. She found one under the army cot and
placed the tablet in her particular sketching position. Lila
circled the shape on the floor. She guided the crayon over
the paper with quick sure strokes. Her minds' hand reached
for the forms and shapes she viewed.
The old lady turned her head and looked up at Lila who
didn't seem notice she was alive.
"You gotta be the coldest goddam blinking horses ass in
this vast city.", said Betty as she grunted and angled her
way up from the floor. "
Lila slapped her drawing pad shut. She said, "You gotta
be the sleaziest, filthiest, flee bitten hound dog on this vast
planet." She turned to the window, opened it all the way
and sat on the sill with her back to her mother. Lila stared
down the street remembering her art classes and how her
mother used to model to keep her in school. Back then Lila
admired and worshiped her mother's body as did everyone
in the entire school. Betty's one small scrap of celebrity,
the weekly parties and heavy drinking went to her head.
She lost it. Lila survived.
Betty, in desperation said, "I need a drink, I need some
money. I'll pose for you."
Lila sneered, and without looking at her mother said,"
You're nuts. Leave!"
The old wench began taking off her rags. In a short
moment she stood in her sixty eight year old naked body
with her arms cocked up in a mock pose.
"Lila" she said, "How bout this."
Lila glanced over her shoulder quite unimpressed and
said, "Take a look at yourself, you look like a wrinkled up
old brown grocery sack. "
"My body is more interesting now than ever. Anyone
can look all puffed out like I did when I was younger. My
body has character." Betty defended, "It's unique."
Lila turned all the way around and said, "It's so unique,
that I can go to the 10Th. Street Morgue and see a hundred
bodies just like yours."
Betty lowered her arms to her hips an shouted, "Yes,
and everyone a stranger. I am singly your mother."
Lila gazed at her mothers nude body. Her thoughts
focused, "It is a peculiar combination of abused and
neglected body parts." Lila quickly retrieved her crayons
and drawing pad. Her mother smiled and stood still for
Lila. Five minutes passed. She knew Lila was just getting
into her drawing. Betty grabbed up her clothes and held
them to her front.
"Booze first, then draw." Betty said with a gleam in her
eye. She knew Lila was hooked. Lila surrendered, and
without speaking, found a wad of money in her paint stand
drawer and started for the door.
Betty followed her to the stairs and yelled at Lila's
backside, "I want a quart of vodka, not a lousy half pint. If
you do, I'm outta here!"
Lila bought a half pint of vodka, two quarts of orange
juice and a bag of ice. She was going to stretch the booze
as far as it would go, and try sober-up the old bat. When
she returned after about twenty minutes, the apartment was
empty, and to Lila's astonishment the studio had been
cleaned. Super cleaned. Everything was in its place. Walls
washed, all the trash removed and the wood floor polished.
Brushes cleaned, gobs of dried paint on Lila's paint stand
had been scraped off and three new giant tubes of Titanium
White lay in a row.
     Lila came to her senses when she felt water dripping on
her foot and sandal. She crammed the ice and orange juice in the refrigerator. Lila noticed the smell of turpentine was gone and the rooms were clouded with canned Country Flower glop.It's a miracle. "Lila gasped aloud. "It's a goddam
blinkin miracle".
       The street lights were lit. Lila sat in the large window
drinking a stiff mix of the vodka and orange juice. She
watched the activity in the street, half expecting her mother
to come back and argue for the booze. The weeks rolled by
and the shinny floor gave way to ground in dust. The
crumpled papers, beer cans and the smell of turpentine had
returned. Betty never showed. Lila stayed close to her
work. Coffee and a sandwich with friends across the street
at Corsos' is all she would allow herself. She hadn't a call
for days till at this moment the telephone rang. Lila got
comfortable on her perch in the window and took her time
about answering.
     "Hello." She said finally.
     A young, official sounding voice asked, "Am I speaking
to a Lila Carol Arnout?
     "Yes, and who are you?" Lila said in a mocking official
tone.
     The young man continued with, "Our records show that
you are the daughter of one Betty Carol Arnout, address
unknown."
     "So what", Lila retorted somewhat annoyed, thinking it
must be the Police.
     "Ms. Arnout, this is the 10Th. Street Morgue. We
believe we have you mother here. She was delivered
yesterday. We need you to identify the body."
     The thought of her mother being dead angered Lila and
she said, "What the hell do you need me for? You seem to
be the one with all the goddam blinkin records."
     The man said, "It's county procedure Ms. Arnout."
      Lila, was hurt and confounded. She wanted to hang up,
but she continued with, "What if I don't come? What the
hell is it to me!"
      The young man was distressed when he said, "Ms.
Arnout, it really isn't appropriate for me to argue about this
matter. If you don't come and identify your mother, our
records will be incomplete."
     "Incomplete, incomplete, you jerk!" Lila fumed. "Her
whole life was incomplete."
      There was a long pause on the other end. Finally the
man said, "Ms. Arnout, if our official records aren't
confirmed by someone, it will be as though she never lived.
Have it your own way."
      "Wait! Hold-on." Lila said quickly. "I'll come. Sorry, I
didn't expect this. Can I come now?"
       The man said, "Yes, I'll be here for another hour."
       Lila lowered the phone to the floor. Her thoughts turned
inward. "Why do I always have to jump at everybody.
God! The guy is probably nice and just doing his job. Why
don't I feel sad about mom's passing? I hate this shit. I
don't really want to go. Damn! I hope this is finally the
end."
      The 10Th. Street Morgue was eight blocks from Lila's
apartment. She walked quickly as to have time to stop for a
couple or four or five drinks along the way. Lila reached
the white painted brick building feeling fortified and
slightly woozy. A solitary steel door with a small window
stood between two black station waggons. The small gray
and black lettered sign over the door announced, 10Th.
Street Morgue. The door was hard to open. Inside, on the
right-hand, was a bleak desk and chair with a spiral
notebook on top. Straight ahead, about forty feet on the left
side of a long hallway was a young handsome man with
light clear features, wearing a faded blue apron. He was
holding a door open and beckoned her to enter.
      The man spoke. "She's over here." He led her around
several body carts covered with white sheets. He walked
around the other side of the cart and raised the sheet just
enough so Lila could see the dead woman's face.
      The man spoke again, "Is this woman Betty Carol
Arnout?".
      Lila stared at her for a moment then said, "Yes it is, but
what the hell is that on her face?"
     The man bent over to inspect her claim. He said, "I'm
sorry, I don't see anything. What do you mean?"
     Lila pointed at the old lady's lips and said, "That
goddam blinken smile on her face, that's what I mean.
The young coroner became concerned and again tried to
validate her allegation.
     Lila continued with, "What is this, some kind of joke.
You bring me down here to spook me or something. Was
this her idea?"
     "Not in the least!" the young man protested.
Lila turned to another cart and jerked back the sheet and
said, "Look at this guy, he don't have a smile on his face."
She began pulling the sheets off several more corpses
saying." Look here, this one don't ether."
     The man was fully agitated. He gripped Lila by the
shoulders from behind and guided her to the door. He said
firmly, "You'll have to leave now. If you have a complaint,
write a letter to County Health Services."
      Lila strolled back to her apartment feeling disgusted and
foolish. She labored slowly up the stairs and confirmed
every familiar creek and crack. She was tired, drained and
glad it was all over. Lila got all the way into her studio
before she became aware that the place smelled of Country
Flower glop. The floor was polished, the walls washed,
refrigerator cleaned, papers stacked neatly, trash removed
and on her paint stand, there were three large tubes of
Titanium White all in a row.