Yarrow House

Receiving the Vision

Teresa Jackson waited for the checker to total her grocery bill and wondered whether she should buy menthol cigarettes this time. Her throat was burning lately when she smoked but she hated the mint taste of the menthol. Her mom kept bawling her out for smoking too much. You’d think that after a girl moved out and got married and had almost two kids her mom would stop bitching, even if she did have to get married.

Flipping back her hair, she picked up the grocery sack. It must have weighed fifty pounds. They were always cramming everything into one sack. To save money on sacks and box boys having to help you. The bag pressed painfully on her pregnant stomach. Her back ached. Outside she’d have to wade through the cold, wet dusk to her car. You’d think by now she’d have learned to park closer to the store. The electric door swung open. Her coat that wouldn’t button over her stomach was no match for the cold air. She shivered.

When she got to her car there was a woman standing beside it. One of those weird long-skirt ones. Teresa ignored her and fumbled through the hole in her coat pocket where the car keys always got stuck. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that the woman was holding flowers. She glanced over for a better look at the flowers. The woman had no coat on and was standing in the only ray of sunlight in the parking lot. Only it wasn’t sunlight. The woman was glowing.

Teresa slowly set the grocery bag down on the car’s hood. Wet wind blew her coat open. When she looked around again the woman was still there and still glowing with a soft summer kind of light. And she was smiling just slightly. Now Teresa saw that she wasn’t holding flowers but some kind of grass so heavy with seeds that the stems were bent and in her other hand she gripped some kind of knife. And she was watching Teresa.

Before Teresa could even step back, the glow around the woman began to grow stronger, brighter, warmer. And the woman herself began to enlarge, somehow getting taller or maybe just getting closer and closer. Teresa couldn’t breathe. She shrank back against the car door, still watching the woman, who, by now she finally realized, was not a woman but something more than a woman.

She prayed to the god of bedtime prayers to make this woman go away. She wasn’t even Catholic. How could she be seeing what every faint symbol she could remember told her was a... she wasn’t going to say it was a god. Gods did not come to people, not people like her. Important people maybe, the president maybe, but not her. And she wasn’t going to call it what it couldn’t be.

The woman reached out a glowing hand. Teresa clutched the car door handle. Maybe it was a creature from space, a UFO, maybe it was a devil. Shock numbed her. This could not be happening to her, and yet it was. She moaned, a small begging moan. And the woman touched her.

In that moment Teresa knew in ways she would never be able to disbelieve that beyond here there were worlds stacked upon each other so far that awareness withered before it came to their end. And she knew other things: the name of the one who touched her, although she couldn’t have pronounced it; the true path this world was on; the nature of life and the universe. She knew it all, but she had no words to make sense of it. She shivered with the weight of her new knowledge.

The woman caressed the girl’s brow and smiled again. Teresa sank into the warmth of her eyes. A voice as sweet as wind chimes filled her, “I have come back. And you will announce me.”

“But I...why me? I can’t talk to people. I can’t do it. It’s nice of you to think of me but...” Before she could finish, the goddess grew smaller, or faded, or somehow was no longer there, was gone now that Teresa so desperately wanted her there to take back this task. It must have been a mistake. No one would give her a task like that. She didn’t even know how to introduce a person, let alone a god.

She tried to convince herself it hadn’t happened, that she’d imagined it. That’s what her mother would say. “Oh, Teresie, you just made it up.” How could she make her mother believe? And if she couldn’t convince her mother, how could she expect to convince anyone else? So maybe it hadn’t happened.

But that still place within her that had been touched by the deep touch of the goddess knew she hadn’t imagined any of it. The reality of what had happened to her was carved indelibly into her being. As she opened the car door, something rattled to the ground at her feet. It was the knife the goddess had been holding. Teresa’s hand shook as she picked it up. Would it hurt her to touch it? How had She forgotten it? And what was Teresa to do with it? But the knife was innocent. It lay in her hand, a pointed knife with carving on the blade, as heavy as any knife would be.

Teresa drove home on the most round-about route she could take but even that brought her to her house long before she had any idea what to do about the event that had just happened. It seemed unfair that the goddess had given her this command without giving her the ability to carry it out. None of it made sense. But it seemed like it was supposed to make sense. Didn’t the world of gods know how to do things right either? Little moans and whimpers escaped her, unnoticed.

•

The knife lying on the dash board glittered in the streetlights. Her mind felt wadded with cotton and, under that, mushy. Who was she going to tell this stuff to? Who did she know who wouldn’t laugh? Or put her into a hospital somewhere? She shivered. What if they thought she’d gone crazy? She stuffed the knife in her purse and wrestled the grocery bag out of the car and into the house.

Her mother, who babysat for Teresa while she shopped, was watching the news, feet propped up on a chair. She didn’t look up as Teresa entered, just muttered, “The news is lousy, just like always.” Teresa took the groceries into the kitchen. Then took her coat into the bedroom. Her mom called after her, “You oughta put the groceries away when you come in. Then they won’t be there later still to be done.”

“Yes, Mom.” Teresa sat on the bed. When she closed her eyes all she saw was that warm smile. But sometimes while her eyes were closed, the smile changed, grew mocking, or dangerous, warning her, reminding her. Teresa opened her eyes and stared at the wall. Should she go see a priest? He at least would know about these lady gods.

Her mother stood in the doorway. “You all right, Teresie?”

She wanted to cry out, “No, Mommy, I’m scared. I had a dream. Please make it go away.” Her throat constricted. How could she say, Mom, I’ve seen a god? How could she say that, which was the only thing there was to say. Her mother sat on the bed beside her. Teresa remembered the knife in her purse, sobbed. “Oh, Mom, something terrible happened in the parking lot.”

“Was it a man? You can tell me all about it, Teresie. Don’t cry now, just tell me what happened,” patting her back like when she was little. Teresa dug out the knife from the bottom of her purse. The design etched in the blade caught the light with tiny winks. She held it out to her mother. “Did a man come at you with this knife? We’ll call the police.”

“No, oh no, wait, It wasn’t a man.”

“A woman? My god, what is this world...”

“No! It wasn’t a woman either, not really even though she looked like one. It wasn’t a woman. Oh, Mom, it was a god.” She broke down into strangled sobs. This “announcing” was worse than she had imagined it could be. For a moment she thought her mom had stopped breathing. “Mom?”

“What do you mean A god?” Teresa’s mother dropped the knife onto the bedside stand.

“Well, maybe a goddess. She said she’d come back, and I’m to announce Her. She told me,” she paused. Somehow tell didn’t quite have the impact of that touch, but how else to say it? “She told me things about the world. How things are supposed to be.” Again she paused. “You believe me. don’t you?” She didn’t let herself hope for such an easy victory, but there wasn’t any reason not to check. She pictured herself telling her old man, Ray, about the goddess, or her best friend from high school, or her English teacher. She pictured herself telling a policeman, or a judge, or a doctor.

“I think we should put the groceries away right now, and wait for Ray to come home.” Her mom avoided looking at the knife as she left the room. Teresa put it back in her purse and followed her mother to the kitchen.

•

Teresa’s mother sat in her chair pretending to watch television, but really watching Teresa. Teresa sat pretending to watch television but really watching a continuous replay of her vision, of the goddess who had touched her. Maybe nobody would believe her but still she herself knew. She couldn’t not-believe. She had been the one picked. She was the announcer. She savored the word announcer, rolling it back and forth across her tongue like a grape.

Ray was late again. He always hung out with his buddies after he got off work. They weren’t married. They didn’t give a damn about anyone at home. They thought it was a good joke to get him to stay out until all hours. Usually she’d be raging by now. But tonight his lateness gave her extra time to think of what she was going to tell him.

About 12:30 Ray arrived. He stumbled over the rug in his surprise at finding both women there, and awake, and silent.

Teresa’s mother quickly herded him into the kitchen where she probably was telling him about Teresa’s crazy idea. Teresa herself felt frozen. Funny, here her mother was telling about the vision. Surely this wasn’t what the goddess had had in mind. She herself was to be the one to tell people. Teresa realized she wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to be telling. Were people to worship her, or just hear that she was back? And back from where exactly? What words do you use for those other places? Ray had looked odd tonight, when he’d come in, new somehow, younger, like a little boy, caught in some act and not quite sure what was next. In fact, everything was looking a little odd tonight, sort of unfamiliar.

Ray came in with her mom, patting her on the back and saying he’d take care of it, and go on home how, and don’t worry. Teresa watched the two of them like they were on TV. They made a funny scene together. The scene between her and Ray, right after her mother left, wasn’t so funny. It didn’t fit into the same TV show. She told him what had happened to her, and he told her of course it hadn’t.

Finally she showed him the knife. His eyes started glinting like the blade. “So you have some proof.” He was talking to himself. The TV mumbled in the background. “We should call the newspaper.”

“Why?” No one seemed to make sense anymore. What was this newspaper business? Of course, that was one way to announce Her. She imagined herself talking to a reporter. She imagined herself on the 10 o’clock news. She shrank away from the picture.

“Because it’s news, and you can bet people will want to hear a story like that. They’ll pay to hear you. Oh, boy. We are going to make a killing. You’ve done it, sweetheart, you’ve really done it.” She knew he didn’t see her anymore. He was seeing too many people surrounding her, listening. Paying to hear her. He was probably seeing himself handling her, like a dog show trainer.

“I think I’ll find a priest tomorrow and ask him what he thinks.” She twined her hair around her finger.

“Sure, honey, sure.” He wasn’t listening.

•

Teresa got her girlfriend, Rita, to babysit for her the next day and went to the Catholic church. All the doors were locked but she found a doorbell and rang until a lady came and answered.

“Father O’Hara’s busy now.”

“But it’s important!”

“Well, I’ll see. Wait here.” Teresa waited. She certainly was getting good at waiting. Before, she was always nervous, jittery. But now she just sat. The lady finally came and took her to the priest’s office.

The priest listened closely to Teresa’s description of her vision. He twisted his pen around in his fingers the whole time, and took turns nodding or frowning. Teresa noticed he avoided looking at her hands resting on her pregnant belly. When she was through, he licked his lips, pursed them, tapped the desk with his pen, and asked, “What was the name of this so-called goddess?”

“I can’t say it. It doesn’t...I mean, I wouldn’t know how to say it.”

“Tell me again how she looked. what was she wearing? A robe, a head covering?”

Teresa repeated the details of her vision, describing the goddess’s long dress and how the light glowed from inside her. The priest nodded more than he frowned now. His graying hair swayed with the movement of his head. Teresa grew more animated with his continued nodding.

“This is a remarkable event that you’ve been chosen to receive, my daughter. But you must realize that there are no goddesses. They are only fairy tales. It must have been the Holy Mother, Virgin Mary.”

Teresa considered. He was the expert, but on the other hand.... She sorted through the knowledge she’d received, then shook her head. “I don’t think she’s a virgin.”

The priest propped his elbows on the desk and regarded her, pulling at his upper lip the whole time. Then gently he explained about the pure nature of those who inhabit the spiritual world, and in particular that of the Virgin. Now it was Teresa’s turn to nod. She didn’t quite see the point he was making but she took his word for it. After all he’d had more experience with gods than she’d had. Still she was sure the goddess wasn’t the Virgin.

She told the priest this. He seemed disappointed but urged her to come back and talk with him again. He was sure, he said, that she’d realize the true identity of this vision. After more nodding, she made her escape. The priest blessed her as she left. She thanked him.

After Teresa left the priest, she drove. She went nowhere, simply drove slowly along streets she didn’t notice. Inside her head and outside, the same dull gray muted everything. The next step of course was to pick a stranger, a man-on-the-street kind of stranger and see what their response was. Each picture she tried to make for that meeting slipped away before she could look at it. She found herself back at the parking lot of the IGA. Parked. She started to light a cigarette and then paused. Smoking seemed somehow like the wrong thing to do before announcing the goddess. She dropped the cigarette packet back in her purse and sat biting her lower lip waiting for the right person.

The right person didn’t come. Finally Teresa climbed out of the car. A little old lady standing at the next car looked at her. Teresa held onto her eyes. “Ma’am,” was ma’am how you said it? Miss didn’t seem right in this case. “Ma’am, I’ve seen a vision. Right here in this parking lot, right over there. A vision of a god, a goddess, and she said she was coming back to this world, finally.” Teresa ran out of breath. The lady smiled, puzzled maybe, finished putting the groceries in the car and patted Teresa’s arm. “That’s nice, dear.”

The next woman had two little kids in tow and didn’t care who Teresa had seen. A man told her he didn’t want any before she had a chance to say more than, “mister.” A girl her age asked how it felt to see a goddess and gave her a dollar when she left.

Somehow announcing wasn’t having the effect it seemed like it should have. After all, a new god on the scene seemed like it might mean some changes somehow. She wasn’t sure how exactly. More peace? Or maybe a battle of gods like in the comics. Or.... she didn’t like comparing her goddess to the comics... maybe more like an opera.

She pictured large gods in flowing robes running around singing in between lightning bolt battles. She’d tried to watch an opera on TV once, but couldn’t stand all that weird singing. Maybe they wouldn’t sing, the gods, that would look sort of stupid if they did. No one would take them seriously. Anyway, it seemed like hearing about a new god should be more important to people. You’d think that people would at least ask questions.

She felt exhausted. Tomorrow. She’d go out again tomorrow. Really, the goddess couldn’t expect her to spend all of her time announcing. After all, she had a family to take care of.

•

At home Rita had the baby in bed for his nap. So Teresa sat down and told her friend about the vision, about the goddess’s arrival, about her mission to be the announcer. Rita shook her head. “You wouldn’t catch me doing anything like that.”

“Do you think I’m crazy?” That wasn’t really the question. She had no doubt about her sanity. Or about the reality of the vision. In fact, it turned out Teresa couldn’t really find a question that needed to be asked. But questions seemed to move the conversation along.

“Crazy to believe you saw a...a something? No, just crazy not to say, no, you weren’t going to be her gofer. Jeez...” Rita trailed off, somewhat at a loss for anything more profound to say.

“She was beautiful and terrible,” Teresa was re-hearing the chiming voice. “She was both of those things...each...all...” Teresa had no word for the totality that held both of those contradictory qualities.

“I think you should have told her it was nice to meet her, but no thanks.”

“She never gave me the chance.”

“Well, tell her the next time she talks to you,”

The next time! Teresa grabbed the arms of her chair. She had the first glimpse of a way out of this impossible task. It had never dawned on her that She might appear to her again. They did that didn’t they, come back from time to time, to check on you? At least that seemed likely. Or maybe She could hear her now, trying to wriggle out from this responsibility. Teresa shivered at the idea of being spied on constantly. Could She read her every thought? Oh, God, what had she been thinking all this time? It wasn’t the rejection of the task she’d been given that worried her. It was all those little daydreams, the times she’d watched some guy’s behind. Well, it was too late now. And anyway, at least She’d know Teresa wanted to speak to her. It was just a matter of finding her again. “Rita, can you babysit a little longer? I have to go find her.”

•

In the parking lot she couldn’t remember exactly where she’d parked before. Probably it wouldn’t matter. After all, a goddess should be able to handle a small problem like finding her in the parking lot. It looked like it was going to rain again, too. Last time she’d gotten soaked. You’d think a goddess could handle that too, somehow. Keep her dry while they were talking. Teresa adjusted her coat for the third time and got out of her car. There was no change in the air, no sudden brightening. She sighed. It looked like it was going to be a long wait.

She leaned against the car and fiddled with her buttons. Once she called, experimentally, “Can you hear me?” But she was afraid the other shoppers would hear her instead and only called out that one time. The cold grew darker. She stamped her feet to warm them up, fumbled with her purse and found the knife. The blade was a cold flicker in the dull light. She slipped it into her pocket. And then abruptly the goddess was before her.

Before Teresa could lose her courage, she advanced and held out the knife, “I’m giving this back to you. I don’t want to be the announcer.” The goddess glowed, brightened, frowned. Teresa held her ground. “Here, take it.” She shook the knife just slightly, like giving a toy to a child or a bone to a dog.

The goddess gazed into the girl’s eyes. Her look pierced Teresa, laid bare the pettiness of her soul, laid bare every corner of her being, revealed her to herself mercilessly. Teresa held her ground. The goddess reached out her empty hand and took the knife. “Thank you, oh, thank you!” Should she kneel, should she bow? What were you supposed to do in a case like this? Of course she’d kneel if it weren’t wet on the ground. Instead she curtsied.

Suddenly the goddess smiled. Her warm glow surrounded the two, extended out from Her lovely hands holding the grasses and, once again, the knife. Teresa didn’t really know what else to say, Now that the time had come to say good-bye, she felt immensely sad at the idea of never seeing the goddess again, at never standing in that beautiful and mysterious presence. “Maybe if we meet again, we could meet somewhere else. You know...” she gestured around her at the cars, “the parking lot gets kind of crowded.”

The goddess smiled again and was gone, not even one glow left behind.

She wasn’t coming back. That was what She must have meant, going off like that so quick. Teresa felt wretched. She’d thought she’d feel happy, but she only felt empty. She opened the car. It would be stupid to call out, Wait, I’ve changed my mind again. She got in the car. On the dash board lay a spray of grasses, their heavy seed-filled heads falling over the edge. Teresa sat and clutched the steering wheel.

Holy cow! The goddess wasn’t leaving her after all. Which meant...oh, no, she must still be the announcer. She wasn’t go­ing to get out of it after all. It had been silly to think she could. After all... She cradled the grasses in her hands, noticing their heaviness. Feeling foolish, she kissed the grain-filled heads. “I’ll do it right this time, oh Lady. I’ll figure out what to say, and I’ll just go do it every day. Not all the time you know. I have other things to do, too.” She patted her belly. “But I’ll do some every day, just for you.”

She lay the grasses in the seat and blew on her fingers to warm them. Gods need taking care of, too. You could stand up to them and tell them off, and they could trick you, but in the end what it came down to was gods need taking care of, too, in this world. She straightened herself and then her coat. The next time she saw the goddess she’d tell Her that. And about keeping her dry, too, while they were talking.

•

At home Teresa found Ray waiting for her. He was excited about the phone calls he’d made to newspapers and the TV. “They’re going to come and talk to you. And photographs. They’ll want pictures of you. And the knife. Oh, boy.” His voice was rubbing its hands together. “Where’s the knife?”

“I gave it back to Her.”

“You what?”

“I found Her again and gave it back to Her.”

“You fool, oh you fool. Now we don’t have any proof. Why did you...?” He was at a loss for the right question. What question could ever comprehend the stupidity of giving up this chance at fame?

Teresa arranged the grasses in her best glass. She even listened a little to Ray rave on about their loss. She didn’t understand why he said we. After all she was the one it had happened to, and she didn’t want the fame. Of course, she hadn’t wanted the vision either. But with some things you don’t have a choice; the universe just says, “Here, catch.”

Published in Backbone 2: New Fiction by Northwest Women, Seal Press, 1980

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One-time reproduction for non-resale purposes permitted with the following credit line: by Judith Yarrow, © 1979