THE BLACK BLANKET

Cora sighed, and took off her hat. Tears that were held in check for so long began to form in her eyes, but she fought them. Her family would need her now, more than ever. If only the arguing wouldn’t start again. She was so tired of family squabbles.  In some ways, Jack’s death had ended some of the arguments, but it would beget as many again. She sighed again, and made her way to the door. If only she could stay here, by herself, and let the rest of the world go away and leave her alone. However, social obligations were not easily denied, whatever the sorrow, and she walked to the stairs.

Before she had reached the bottom step, she could hear the arguments beginning. Her eldest son, Tank, was already raising his voice. She sighed, and went into the room.

“... telling you right now. I want my fair share!”

“Fair share of what?” Cora asked, stepping forward.

“Father’s inheritance, of course!” he stated firmly.

“Thomas, I’m sure your father remembered all of you in his will. For now, I think we should remember him, don’t you?”

He gave her a withering look. “Mom, I know you loved him, and all, but he never gave me a chance. I could have gone to one of the big colleges, and had a chance to make the pros. As it is, I won’t even be drafted, all because of him!”

Darren chuckled. “Sure you could’ve, Tank.”

Thomas swore at his younger brother, and looked ready to attack him.

“THOMAS!” Cora demanded. “You will keep a civil tongue in your head. Your father and I made that decision, because it would have cost too much money. There’d be nothing left for Tara and Darren to go to college if we let you have your way.”

“Yes, I know, Mother, so you’ve said. But I had a chance to make it big!”

 “Well, ya look pretty big to me,” Darren said around a sandwich.

There was a knock at the door, and a herd of guests arrived from the funeral, ending the argument; temporarily, at least.

Darkness fell gently over the world like a comforting blanket on a cold and weary traveler. As it neared midnight, Cora sat alone in the living room. She felt nothing but sadness in her life. She had been with Jack for so many years, and now she had to learn how to survive without him. And the truth was, here alone and in the dark of night, she didn’t think she could do it. 

Jack was the only one who could stand up to Tank and his demands. She didn’t think she could. She was sure she couldn’t. And there was Tara and Darren. They were still young, and needed a father. And she was no longer young, and certainly could not be considered a beautiful woman, if she ever could. The future stretched out before her like a black wall. She had no idea how to survive. She wasn’t sure she could.

She wasn’t sure she should.

Her grandmother was the last one to use it. Her mother before her used it, as well. The black blanket has been used four times in its history. She thought about being the fifth.

She knew where it was, of course. Also know as the Widow’s Weave, the Black Blanket had been part of her family for a few hundred years. Knitted by Katie McFarsen, a reputed witch, it had the power to remove the most burdensome of troubles from a widow. Life itself.

Sitting in the waiting room of Mr. Harrall, their lawyer. The will had been read, and the shock had settled over everyone. Tank, of course, was livid. Everything had been left to Cora. Everything. The money and estate was hers to distribute as she saw fit. Jack had hinted that was what he put in his will, but Cora didn’t really believe he would. So, now it was all up to her. She knew Jack had meant well, but he did her no favours. 

“Mom, we need to talk,” Tank said loudly.

Cora closed her eyes.

“Later, Tank,” Darren said, concern for his Mother showing in his face. “Mom’s been through enough for one day.”

Tank glared at his younger brother. “That’s easy for you, pipsqueak. School starts in another week, and I need the tuition now.”

Cora shook her head. “Let’s go home. We can discuss things there.” A delay, but a necessary one. She would start crying here, if this continued.

She stood up to go, but Tank thrust his large chest in front of her. “NO!” he demanded. “I want an answer right now, not later. I want my tuition. I need it. You’re going to give it to me, Mom, or I’ll...”

Cora’s face paled drastically.

“You’ll what?” Tara asked quietly. “C’mon, Tank, finish what you were saying. You’ll what?”

“You shut up, both of you, shut up! This is between me and Mom!”

“No, it’s not,” Darren told him in a deadly quiet voice. “If you’re going to threaten our mother, it’s a matter for the police.”

Tank tore his eyes from his mother’s pale face, and glared at Darren. “I haven’t threatened anybody!”

“Yet,” added Tara.

Tank suddenly seemed to realize he was in a bad position. He shook his head. “I didn’t mean it that way. Okay, Mom, we’ll wait until we get home. Then you and I are going to have a long, private talk,” he said with deceptive mildness.

Cora nodded, and they moved toward the doorway, and left the lawyer’s office. Cora had no idea what to do. She had never before felt afraid of her own children. As she got into the car, she was shaking, looking like nothing more than a frail, old woman. Tank noticed, and smiled, even as he graciously helped her in. Darren and Tara shared a worried look, and got in the car.

In the end, she agreed. Tank yelled and blustered until she said yes, just to shut him up. Surprisingly, neither Tara nor Darren protested. She thought it was because they were as tired of him as she was; and, possibly, as scared. 

Cora said goodnight, and walked slowly up to her room. The upper hallway was dark; she flipped on the light. She stopped in front of the closet. She tried to move past it, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t. Tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t move past the closet. Her life was over, and she couldn’t move past the closet. No longer willing to fight against the sadness that ruled her, she slowly opened the closet door. She knew where to look. Reaching in, she uncovered the dark bundle made of thick wool. Slowly she withdrew it, and clutched the warm fabric to her bosom. The heavy blackness looked like ordinary wool. There was a pungent aroma from it, like woodsmoke smelt on an autumn evening. She remembered walks in the country with Jack, long ago, before they were even engaged. She remembered times at the cottage, on their honeymoon, alone at the cabin. Tears, invisible against the blackness of the blanket, fell from her eyes.

Slowly, clutching the blanket to her like a life belt, she closed the closet door. As it clicked shut, she looked up. Tara was there. She looked at the blanket without surprise. 

“I love you, Mom. I can’t live without you,” she said. She paused for a second, then kissed her mother on the forehead. With a sigh, she turned and walked away.

Cora turned, and entered her room. She turned on the light, and undressed. She climbed into bed, and pulled the black blanket over her, then turned out the light. The room became as dark as the inside of her heart.

She looked off into the distance, and there was nothing there. She stood on a flat plane that stretched as far as the eye could see. In the distance was only more darkness; behind her was a faint light. All she needed to do was walk into the dark distance, and she would never come back. She began to walk toward the darkness, feeling so heavy in her heart. A voice called to her from behind, faint, but unmistakable. She stopped, and listened. Slowly the voice grew, and took shape. Tara, it was Tara!

Cora was sure she was hearing an echo of her daughter’s last words to her. Still, she could only stop and listen. As she did so, a window seemed to open before her. The faces of friends and loved ones appeared before her, people who would be devastated at her death. People who loved her, and would miss her dearly. Amongst those faces was Tommy’s, but not Tank. He was a young boy, crying from being bullied by the bigger kids. He looked up at her, and cried with longing. The boy could never talk to his father, and always came to her for comfort. 

Then Darren was there, just growing into manhood, but now without a father. The loss of his mother as well could destroy him. He needed to be loved so badly.

Finally, the full realization came to her.  She needed to be loved so badly, and feared that her husband’s death would take that love away from her. 

The faces before her, however, told another story. Her sister, her two brothers, her nieces, her nephews, her friends that needed her help to live, to deal with life. She could deal with her own sadness by helping others with theirs. By bringing life into other lives, she brings life into her own. Life begets life; hers, as well others.

She turned back, and the vast plain behind her was there, but there was a light in the distance. She began to walk forward, toward the distant light, toward her life again. The voices of her loved ones enveloped her, and she walked effortlessly, almost gliding toward the light, and home.

She woke to the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Leaves from the trees made shadows that chased each other across the ceiling in merry abandon. A soft breeze blew in through the window, bringing the scent of lilac to her. 

Lying there in bed, she felt life streaming through her, just like the light shining through the curtains beside her bed. She lay there for the longest time, feeling very grateful to be alive. 

Alive. She was alive. She shouldn’t be, though. She looked down, and the black blanket was no longer there. Looking about, she found it lying on the floor beside the bed. She must have kicked it off the bed sometime during the night. She lay back down, not caring about it, reveling in the feeling of being alive, of feeling alive, and feeling equal to the task. The truth of this finally began to seep into her; that she was far more than just the shadow of a marriage past. She had her own force to bring to the family, to deal with the storms, and with the sunshine.

She rose from bed, casting aside the sheets as if they were grave clothes. She dressed, then picked up the phone. Insurance was always nice to have.  After speaking with an old friend, she went downstairs to enjoy breakfast with her children. Tank was not there yet, but she found Tara and Darren’s company to be delightful. They, in turn, we rather surprised at their mother’s apparent ease of spirit, given her state of mind the previous night. 

The front door opened, and Tank burst into the house. “Mom, I need my money right away. I’m leaving this morning.”

She smiled calmly. “There’s no hurry, sit down and have a cup of coffee with us.”

“Didn’t you hear me, old woman? I said I need the money right now! C’mon, shake a leg, I’m in a hurry!” he demanded angrily.

“You’re not going anywhere if you use that tone with me, young man. Now, sit down, I have to talk to you,” she told him firmly.

He leaned down and put his hands on the table. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” he screamed. “I want my money NOW!”

‘More coffee, Tara?” she asked mildly, offering to pour for her daughter. 

“Yes, please, Mom,” she replied, holding out her cup.

Tank, his face contorted with rage, grabbed her chair, and pulled her out of it. She returned his look with an icy stare. The held like that for a minute, then Tank suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing. He lowered her back down into her chair, the look of rage gradually fading from his face.

“Your not getting the money,” she told him quietly. 

He stood up, staring at her with a look of shock. “But, but, you said I would...”

“I’ve changed my mind. You’ve done nothing but bully and bluster me, and expect me to give in to your demands. Well, I’ve had enough of it. You will get your exact share of the money, and nothing more.”

He stared at her, until a look of terrible rage crossed his face. “Do you know what I can do to you?” he hissed. 

She smiled. “Threats, Thomas? Are you threatening me?”

He shook with rage, but didn’t say anything. They stared at each other for a few minutes, then he nodded.

‘If you want to put it that way. I will do what I have to do.”

She sighed. “Very well. I will do what I have to do. Your father left the money to me. I can either give it to my children, or keep it for myself. The decision is mine. And I have decided that you will not get ANY of it. Your share will be put into the college funds for Darren and Tara. You stand disinherited. I will not stand by and be threatened by my own son. I think you should leave, now.”

Tank was not a man easily at a loss for words, but he was utterly speechless. ‘You can’t mean that. You can’t,” he gasped.

“I mean every word of it. I will not tolerate you any longer, Thomas. I love you, but I will not take being threatened by you.”

He crossed his arms. “And if I refuse to leave?” he demanded importantly.

“Then, by all means, sit and join us for breakfast.  We’re having bacon and eggs. Pull up a chair!” she told him with a smile.

“I don’t think you understand. I can cause a lot of trouble here. I can wreck this house, and you wouldn’t be able to stop me. I can do worse than that, too.”

She nodded. “Well, yes, you could. In fact, you probably would, wouldn’t you?”

He nodded. “Ah, I thought so. But do tell me, dear son, how would going to jail would help you?”

He laughed. “They’d have to catch me first. Besides, you know you won’t do that.”

She took a big bite from her toast, then swallowed. Taking a slow sip from her coffee cup, she looked him in the eyes. “In fact, I already have. Look outside.”

He took his eyes from hers, and did so. He gasped.

Cora turned to Tara. “Dear, would you ask Sergeant Barlson to join us for breakfast, please?”

She smiled. “Why, yes, mother, I believe I will.”

She stood up and walked to the back door, where a particularly massive policeman was standing, looking in. She opened the door, and the officer smiled and stepped in. “Good morning to you all.”

Cora got up and gave him a big hug. “Frank, it’s good to see you. C’mon in!”

“Hello, Cora, everyone.”

“Sit down and have some breakfast.”

“Thanks, I believe I will.”

Tank looked concerned. “Well, I’ll be going, then.”

“Maybe not quite yet, there, son,” the policeman said.

Tank turned. “Look, this is family business, not yours.” 

“What you were talking about is of no concern of mine. However, there was a bouncer at a local bar that was beaten pretty badly last night. Eyewitnesses described the person who did it. He looked a lot like you.”

“I was here last night,” he said, a shade too quickly.

Darren took a bite of his eggs, and said, “You were? Funny I didn’t see you, you being such a big man, and all.”

Tank began to sweat, and Tara turned away with a smile.

“Of course, if you were out of town by the end of the day, I wouldn’t be able to come looking for you,” the officer continued. “If you were to be seen after that time, well, naturally I’d have to take steps.”

A moment later, the front door slammed, and Tank was gone.

“Frank, he didn’t really do that, did he?” Cora asked with concern as she served him a big plate of food.

      He grabbed his fork and knife, and prepared to dig in. ‘Well, he was there, and he and his friend do look alike.”

Cora shook her head. “I thought I raised him better than that,” she said quietly.

Frank shook his head. “ It’s hardly your fault, Cora. He went his own way from the start. You know that, and so did Jack, God rest his soul.”

“I still feel like I failed him,” she whispered with quiet dignity.

“Nonsense!” Frank snorted. “You and Jack loved and looked after your kids far better than most people. You gave them everything they could want. It’s hardly your fault that Tank wanted more than you could give.”

She sighed, but Darren came over and put his arms around her. “He’s right, Mom. You’ve always been good to us.”

“That’s right,” Tara agreed emphatically.

Frank smiled. ‘You’re a lucky woman, Cora. I hope you realize that.”

Cora looked at him, and smiled.

Upstairs, a blanket lay discarded in a corner, waiting for the dyer’s hand. 

THE END

THE END