REBIRTH

by Alice Klein

     The birds are singing brilliantly this morning as I drift by. Wings aren't really needed so I don't know why they thought there were angels...just us. All of us. In varying forms of readiness. Readiness, that is, to rejoin our fellow humans in "real" time, as we call it up here. Up here, there is no stress, no traffic, no worries. We don't have to search our closets for appropriate clothes because we all wear a white gown that miraculously appears after we cross over. And we don't even need Tide, because it never gets dirty. We read a lot and, once a month, we go before the elders who let us know when we're ready. They remind us of what and who we once were and where on the "karma" plain we are now.

     I was a terrible sinner. But I had an awful beginning and a long horrendous karma to work through. This past life saw me born to a pair of alcoholics. My Dad beat my Mother to death with an empty whiskey bottle and his fists and I saw it all. They came and took my Dad away to jail and I was forced to go from foster home to foster home with dirty leering men and mean-tempered women. It didn't help that I was old before my time and, at thirteen, what they call "stacked". Or that I had "an attitude", whatever that means. At least, that's always what they told the social worker as they "handed" me over. And she, a skinny ornery woman with stringy black hair and a flat chest named Olive, would just shake her head and then nod knowingly. As if she even knew!

     When I turned eighteen, I found myself dumped in front of a bus station with ten dollars in my pocket. After hanging around for a few days, constantly watchful for Transit Authority cops who liked to harass...but didn't seem to care enough to help...someone offered me money to do a "favor". That "favor" consisted of a blow job behind the dumpster. And it paid me enough that I was able to get on a bus and go.

     I got off the bus at Buffalo, New York and there I stayed. After a few more "favors", which didn't pay as good up there, I had enough money to stay at the "Y" and find a job waitressing at a little dingy diner. It was hard work, the tips were okay, the pay lousy and the owner...a sleezeball. But, it kept me in food and it was there that I met Joe. He told me later that he couldn't believe that a beautiful woman like me would be working in a lousy dump like that. Huumph. Sure. His car had broken down and he needed a phone to call AAA. When he was ready to leave, he asked if he could see me again. I said "no", but he didn't take "no" for an answer. He was outside the diner five nights in a row. We got married three months later and he moved me across to the nicer side of the tracks.

     But it wasn't me. Sure, I tried. But what did I know about nice families and manners and dinner parties? My in-laws, I know, hated me on sight and made no bones about it. At first, Joe stuck up for me. That soon stopped. Then, I got pregnant. Wow! Now, that was an experience. Even the in-laws came around, temporarily at least. Everyone hovered over me...making sure I had enough to eat, got enough rest, and stayed away from cigarettes and liquor. I enjoyed the fuss but it was getting a wee bit claustrophobic, so I was glad when the nine months were over and, after eight hours of excruciating labor, my daughter was born. I wanted to name her Angela. My in-laws wanted Deidre...so Deidre it was. Guess that showed me where I stood on the totem pole, didn't it?

     That was the start of a long down hill slide. The more my in-laws decided Deidre's course in life, the more I rebelled and the more Joe agreed with his parents. That was when I first started hitting the bottle. I could stop any time, I was no alcoholic...I just didn't want to. After all, with a little bit of booze in me, my in-laws were tolerable. Without it... life sucked...big time! Months went by and one glass became two which became three...need I go on? Then, one afternoon, everything came to a screaming crash when my mother-in-law came in, without knocking, to find me downing my fourth scotch of the day. Deidre was crying loudly in her crib and my mother-in-law was livid, screaming that I was an unfit mother and my baby was dirty and hungry. My answer was to down my fifth scotch and give her the finger.

     That was the last time I saw my baby for years. Joe kept her out of my sight, divorced me and had himself named sole custodian of her care. After a few months of trying, I simply gave up. I binged and drank my grief away and cursed my ex-husband and his parents. Then, one day about eight months later, I woke up in a jail cell where they had thrown me to sober up. I don't know what was different about that jail cell...maybe it was my cell mate. I just know that I listened to her story and mine paled in comparison. It was a rough year while I worked at sobering up. I was determined to get my life on track. I guess I had found religion...of a sorts. I just remember that I wanted to change and live...instead of pushing myself to die.

     My daughter was a little over two years old when I finally had my life together and had been sober for a full year. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I had to try to find a place in her life. It was the thought of her that had sustained me for all these empty months... I didn't even know what she looked like now. I had gone to secretarial school while I was sobering up and held a decent job in a decent company and was able to use the Internet to search. My ex had remarried and was running a construction company. It wasn't far from where I was living so I drove over one day. While I was sitting in my old car, a brand new BMW drove in and a beautiful woman got out with a lovely little girl. It wasn't until the door of the construction trailer opened and my ex came out that I realized that I was looking at Deidre, my daughter. My heart broke. I couldn't see through my tears and, by the time I had dried my eyes, he had gotten into the car with them and they had left. I sat there stunned.

     The next day, I went to an attorney. He wasn't cheap but I didn't know which way to turn. I didn't want to hurt my daughter, I just wanted to see her...talk to her...hold her. I had missed so much. Surely Joe would let me have some visitation. But my lawyer told me that Joe said "No way" that he'd fight me in court to his last dollar, which was considerably more than mine. He didn't want me in his daughter's life. She was happy and healthy and didn't need a damn drunk hovering over her. My lawyer told me that Joe didn't believe that I had sobered up. When I broke down sobbing, he told me that, while I didn't have a chance of getting visitation rights, maybe he could talk Joe into letting me see Deidre...once...if I promised not to tell her who I was. I was desperate. So I agreed.

     Almost another month went by before my attorney called me at work. Joe had agreed to a meeting. It would be at the construction office and I wasn't to be alone with Deidre. Both he and his new wife would be there and, in return, I was to sign a paper relinquishing any further rights to see my daughter. I thought about it for a week. I didn't want to hurt my daughter. Who was I to say that I wouldn't pick up the bottle again and become a raging alcoholic? So, I'd sign the paper. But, at least, before I did, I'd see my Deidre.

     So on a Saturday morning in September, I found myself knocking on the door of the construction trailer and facing the stony face of my ex-husband.

     "Ginger." Just that one word, but it brought back so many memories...happy and sad. His voice hadn't changed a bit and I could feel myself drawn to him. Maybe he could forgive me and we could once again be a family. But I had forgotten. "This is my wife, Annalee."

     Behind him stood the tall blonde that I had seen from a distance that day I came over here. Closer, she was gorgeous with that flawless skin that you see in television ads for Olay or something. Her blonde hair was short and fluffy and obviously professionally set and styled. It made me want to cover my own brown straight hair that I had clipped back with a couple of barrettes. Her hand that she held out to me was soft and manicured and as we briefly shook hands, I couldn't help but notice her red-lacquered finger nails. Everything about her was perfection. The exact opposite of me. I was crushed.

     But then, I saw Deidre. Playing in the corner with a Barbie doll, she was beautiful. She had my hair...but gloriously shiny and long and curly. Her brown eyes glowed warmly as she talked to her doll. Dressed in a red velvet dress and black patent leather shoes, I wanted to grab her and hug her but when I looked up and saw the warning in Joe's eyes, I knew I couldn't.

     "Well, and who is this?" My voice sounded high and false, even to my own ears. Without asking any further permission, I crossed the room and knelt in front of Deidre. "Hello."

     She looked up and smiled. It took my breath away. How did this beautiful child ever come from me?

     "Hi, my name's Deidre...but my Mommy and Daddy call me Deedee. Who are you?"

     My heart almost stopped. I could hear my ex's in-drawn breath in the background as he waited for my answer. I was sure that he was biting the inside of his mouth afraid of what I would say. How I would introduce myself? And, what, after all, was stopping me from telling Deidre who I was? But, I didn't...it wouldn't be fair to her.

     "My name is Ginger. I used to know your Daddy many years ago."

     What followed were the most bittersweet thirty minutes of my short life. I sat down on the floor next to Deidre and played with her doll and shared small talk. I had to make this conversation last...it was the only conversation I could ever have. When Joe cleared his throat, I knew my time was up and I slowly got up off the floor. I know I must have had tears in my eyes, although Deidre was busy and didn't notice it. But Joe and Annalee did. Annalee even had some tears in her eyes. But Joe remained unforgiving and when he reached his hand out, I fought down the surge of hope when I realized that he had a pen in one hand and a piece of paper...my death scroll...in the other. Without another word passing between us, I signed away my daughter on a little legal-sized piece of paper. My heart was irretrievably broken...but I had brought it all on myself and I would have to live with it for the rest of my life.

     For the rest of my life didn't turn out to be that long. As we left the trailer, I noticed a large crane was moving a huge beam from one side of the site to the other. It registered in my peripheral vision but my thoughts were still totally on Deidre who was skipping along happily behind her father and Annalee. It all happened in less than a few seconds but it felt like it was hours. In slow motion, I saw Joe and Annalee turn back to hurry Deidre along just as Deidre saw a colored rock and darted toward the crane to pick it up. I heard a shout and a scream as the huge beam swung around out of control and slipped from the sling that was holding it. Deidre was directly beneath it. Joe and Annalee started running but they would never get there in time. Without any thought, my feet moved. I pushed Deidre out of the way, just as the beam hit me. There was a brief flash of pain and then nothing.

     The elders tell me that I saved Deidre's life. That my ex-husband held my partially crushed body in his arms as I died and that all three of them came to my funeral. They also told me that Joe told Annalee that when Deidre got old enough they were going to tell her all about me.

     My karma track has been lightened considerably because of my "brave and noble act"...even though I did it without thinking. Just this morning, the elders informed me that within the next month, I would be "reborn".

     For now, I am content. I straighten my white robe and smile at the butterfly that comes to rest on my sleeve. Soon, I will rejoin the humans...for now, I will enjoy the beauty of the after life.

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