The Next Queen of Heaven-SA by Gregory Maguire Page A
Authors: Gregory Maguire
Tags: Fiction, General, Humorous, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, New York (State), City and Town Life, Teenagers, Mothers and daughters, Eccentrics and eccentricities, City and Town Life - New York (State)
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decisions, I think.”
“Outa here,” said Mrs. Scales, more forcefully
“Too bad,” said Hogan, pretending to look, “there’s no plug for us to pull.”
“She’s right to flee,” said a voice. They had forgotten to notice that their mother didn’t have a private room. In the next bed sat a wispy black woman with flyaway white hair. She wore a hospital gown and an IV bottle-feeder and a purple church hat with a little net veil lowered over her eyes.
“What you in for?” said Hogan.
“Life.”
“Eww.”
“As in livin’ too hard and I see no shame in that.”
“Ow. Outa here,” said Mrs. Scales. “Ow.”
“She’s got the right notion,” said the black woman. “In seven weeks and change Y-Two-Kay gonna kick some butt big time. I intend to be on the Other Side by the time it happens. You never seen the hell that’s gonna erupt outa the broken pipes of those computers.”
“We don’t use computers much,” said Tabitha. “Doubt you do, either.”
“You might not, I might not, but the world does. I seen it in my visions. Planes crashing out of the sky. Bank accounts frying, money sizzling away like water on Bo’more sidewalks in August. Trains crash, cars crash, markets crash, war and pestilence and famine on all sides. Four horsemen of the Apocalypse my foot: they gonna need two, three dozen horsemen minimum, to mop us all up. That’s why Jesus on His way again. What you think Y-Two-Kay mean, anyway?”
“It means Year Two Thousand,” said Kirk. “The millennium.”
“Millennium, my ass.”
“Actually the millennium begins January 1, 2001, according to my math teacher.”
“Your math teacher don’t know how to squat in the fields when she has to go. Computers are taking over the world and destroying it big time in seven weeks. Y-Two-Kay don’t stand for that, though. It stand for Yahweh-to-Come.”
“I thought you said Jesus,” said Hogan. “Get your facts straight, ma’am.”
“Yahweh, Yehovah, Yesus, you think I write the name tag? Name don’t signify. He can be Yolanda Christ this time around if he wants. I’m outa here. He ain’t gonna be happy to see his world all broke.”
“Haven’t you got family?” asked Kirk. “Any visitors?”
“Kirk can be your little boy.” Tabitha pushed him forward. “We don’t need him any more.”
“I thought Jesus gonna come from that Monica Jewinsky and Bill Clinton, but she’d a born him by now, unless the baby’s been holdin’ out till Y-Two-Kay midnight. One thing I’ll tell you right now, you can’t impeach God. Ain’t gonna happen.”
Hogan sounded delighted. “The second coming—a bastard son of Slick Willy? I love it.” The woman nodded grimly. “The first black president, they call him. First and last, by the look of it.”
By now Mrs. Scales had her hand around her ears, so Tabitha went to the nurses’ station.
Nurse Gompers faked being busy over someone dying or something, but Tabitha wouldn’t leave.
She didn’t want to go back in her mother’s room, even with the consolation that there was someone on earth more screwy than her own mother.
Eventually Nurse Gompers condescended to recognize Tabitha, and she expounded on Mrs. Scales’s situation in maddeningly medical language. Despite that, Tabitha picked up that the clinic intended to release her mother into Tabitha’s own care.
“Is that legal?” said Tabitha, losing track of her own intentions and her strategies.
“The next of kin your family provided, Pastor Huyck called up this morning and I gave him my recommendation, and he approved it and faxed over a waiver. Close enough, he said.”
“But Mom doesn’t talk like she used to. She’s not herself.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Nurse Gompers. She strode down the hall whacking the wall with her clipboard. Tabitha followed her into the room.
“Well.” Tabitha knew this sounded lame. “Look. I mean, she won’t eat her
“Outa here,” said Mrs. Scales, more forcefully
“Too bad,” said Hogan, pretending to look, “there’s no plug for us to pull.”
“She’s right to flee,” said a voice. They had forgotten to notice that their mother didn’t have a private room. In the next bed sat a wispy black woman with flyaway white hair. She wore a hospital gown and an IV bottle-feeder and a purple church hat with a little net veil lowered over her eyes.
“What you in for?” said Hogan.
“Life.”
“Eww.”
“As in livin’ too hard and I see no shame in that.”
“Ow. Outa here,” said Mrs. Scales. “Ow.”
“She’s got the right notion,” said the black woman. “In seven weeks and change Y-Two-Kay gonna kick some butt big time. I intend to be on the Other Side by the time it happens. You never seen the hell that’s gonna erupt outa the broken pipes of those computers.”
“We don’t use computers much,” said Tabitha. “Doubt you do, either.”
“You might not, I might not, but the world does. I seen it in my visions. Planes crashing out of the sky. Bank accounts frying, money sizzling away like water on Bo’more sidewalks in August. Trains crash, cars crash, markets crash, war and pestilence and famine on all sides. Four horsemen of the Apocalypse my foot: they gonna need two, three dozen horsemen minimum, to mop us all up. That’s why Jesus on His way again. What you think Y-Two-Kay mean, anyway?”
“It means Year Two Thousand,” said Kirk. “The millennium.”
“Millennium, my ass.”
“Actually the millennium begins January 1, 2001, according to my math teacher.”
“Your math teacher don’t know how to squat in the fields when she has to go. Computers are taking over the world and destroying it big time in seven weeks. Y-Two-Kay don’t stand for that, though. It stand for Yahweh-to-Come.”
“I thought you said Jesus,” said Hogan. “Get your facts straight, ma’am.”
“Yahweh, Yehovah, Yesus, you think I write the name tag? Name don’t signify. He can be Yolanda Christ this time around if he wants. I’m outa here. He ain’t gonna be happy to see his world all broke.”
“Haven’t you got family?” asked Kirk. “Any visitors?”
“Kirk can be your little boy.” Tabitha pushed him forward. “We don’t need him any more.”
“I thought Jesus gonna come from that Monica Jewinsky and Bill Clinton, but she’d a born him by now, unless the baby’s been holdin’ out till Y-Two-Kay midnight. One thing I’ll tell you right now, you can’t impeach God. Ain’t gonna happen.”
Hogan sounded delighted. “The second coming—a bastard son of Slick Willy? I love it.” The woman nodded grimly. “The first black president, they call him. First and last, by the look of it.”
By now Mrs. Scales had her hand around her ears, so Tabitha went to the nurses’ station.
Nurse Gompers faked being busy over someone dying or something, but Tabitha wouldn’t leave.
She didn’t want to go back in her mother’s room, even with the consolation that there was someone on earth more screwy than her own mother.
Eventually Nurse Gompers condescended to recognize Tabitha, and she expounded on Mrs. Scales’s situation in maddeningly medical language. Despite that, Tabitha picked up that the clinic intended to release her mother into Tabitha’s own care.
“Is that legal?” said Tabitha, losing track of her own intentions and her strategies.
“The next of kin your family provided, Pastor Huyck called up this morning and I gave him my recommendation, and he approved it and faxed over a waiver. Close enough, he said.”
“But Mom doesn’t talk like she used to. She’s not herself.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Nurse Gompers. She strode down the hall whacking the wall with her clipboard. Tabitha followed her into the room.
“Well.” Tabitha knew this sounded lame. “Look. I mean, she won’t eat her
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