Augusta Cleans Up

The combination of the remaining lard and Hairy's saliva made August feel especially dirty. "What am I getting into?" he wondered.

His mother had told him to count to 10 when he was faced with a confusing situation. He tried 10, but his confusion remained. "Maybe she meant 100," he thought.

Finally he made it home, sitting on old newspapers in his car so that he wouldn't soil the seats. The lard, unfortunately, dissolved the ink on the newspaper and words, in reverse, covered his legs and cargo shorts.

He threw his clothes in the wash and went right for the shower. He couldn't get the water hot enough or stay in the shower long enough to feel clean again. He got out of the shower, dried himself off, and then decided to show once again. "Now that's better," he concluded.

He became clear about two things taking the second shower: 1) that he could never see Eliza again, that he could take her as she was, or that he could change her and 2) that he would change her as she wanted to change him. "Tit for tat," he thought.

The Big Confession

"Eliza, I may be a married man. I'm not sure. I was married to a crazy gal named Dusty who runs a dust bunny sanctuary. She and her dog, Dirty Hairy, are filthy. They not only liked dirt— sometimes they both even looked like dirt. Life was a living hell for me.

I needed to get out, and I wanted Eliza to get my pension so she wouldn't starve to death. I knew that she was too far gone to work at a job.

I had a shed behind the house where I conducted chemistry experiments to improve the pillows. I tried to make a synthetic pillow that would cost virtually nothing to produce and would have the softness and recoverability of a feather.

Before I got too far into my research I came up with the idea of faking my death. After exploring a number of options, I decided to blow up the shack and make it look like I was blown up as well. That way Dusty would be able to get my pension, and even remarry, should she find anyone who could stand her.

So on one cold day in October, I made a sort of time bomb with a couple of chemicals and a clock. I was out of the shack just in time and watched the explosion from behind a tree in a forest. I saw Dusty and Dirty starting to run toward the blaze, and then I vanished.

Perhaps curiosity did kill the cat, but I really want to know if Dusty is alive and well, and if she got my pension. Is she heartbroken? Has she found a new man? Did she get remarried? Have I been officially proclaimed dead?

I could use your help here. Obviously it would be a disaster if I went and knocked on her door. I'm wondering if you could do a little leg work for me? If you'll still have me, that is."

A Mess

It was a sad mess. Dusty greased up Augusta with the lard from the inside of her house, then went outside and pulled him out. Time for a shower, you say? Well, remember that Dusty had no running water.

If Augusta looked bad with the boots, the cargo shorts, and the Hawaiian shirt, he really looked bad covered with lard. And then the flies discovered him. He turned black with a solid layer of flies. He tried rolling on the floor to squish the flies, but Dusty got hysterical, fearing that her bunnies would die too. Finally Dirty Hairy, who had been sleeping, got into the act and started licking the lard off Augusta from head to toes.

Eventually Augusta was lickety clean, so to speak. The flies were sluggish from the great meal, and Dusty was relieved that there was no longer extreme turmoil in his habitat.

"Augusta, that was quite an experience that we had, wasn't it. Some day we may be able to laugh about it. In the meantime, maybe you'd like to take your hat and go home and change. I assume that you decided that change was an acceptable price to pay for our relationship."

"Now wait a second, Dusty. You'll need to tell me how you can like me, and err . . . not like me at the same time?"

"A lot of what we like in a person isn't right in front of us, but it is what we know about them. It is a combination of our experiences and our projection into the past . . . future, I mean."

Dusty talked like one of her university professors. Unfortunately she didn't understand what he meant when she was in college and still didn't understand it any better.

"What arrrre you talking about? You are avoiding my question. But I'm so uncomfortable to be covered with Dirty's saliva, and so confused about our relationship that I will go home. When I clean up maybe I'll be able to see the whole situation with a smidgen of clarity."

"Now don't you forget your hat. I'll be waiting for you. I hope you'll come back. Now I have to feed the bunnies."

Eliza Responds

"Softy, you must understand that I'm madly in love with you. Perhaps love is blind, but to me you are the savior of humanity.

And to save all those chickens by reusing the feathers . . . what a wonderful idea.

As you were talking, I started wondering if the deception is really necessary, or could we turn your recycling of the feathers into a talking point. Imagine if we said that our pillows use renewable resources. In addition, we call them "peace pillows" because everyone would be sleeping with the energies of others. Feathers are so light that I believe they have a lot of room to soak up energies."

"Eliza, those are interesting ideas. I can see that you'll be a good partner. But perhaps you'll want nothing to do with me when I tell you the rest of my story."

"How could I have nothing to do with you. I love you. And I learned from the Bible that we should not criticize the splinter in your brother's eye until we see the log in our own eye."

"Wait until you hear my story. I've been living alone with this burden for five years now, and I need to tell it to you."

"What could be so terrible, Softy. Did you murder someone?"

"Well, I murdered myself. But let me start from the beginning."

"If you murdered yourself, then you must be dead."

"Not quite. Now be quiet and I'll start from the beginning."

Augusta Arrested by a Dog Door

"Augusta, you silly thing, you are stuck in the dog door. Shhh Dirty, stop that barking."

"Why didn't you answer my knocks."

"I discovered that one of my bunnies has been murdered. I've had that bunny since Softy left."

"Will you p l e a s e get me out of this door. I think you need to pull me back out from the outside."

Dusty carefully opened the front door (so as to not cause a breeze that would disrupt her bunnies) and went toward the dog door. She grabbed Augusta by the boots and started to pull. It became immediately obvious that he was stuck. She put on her thinking cap and decided to brainstorm: leave him captive stuck in the door, tie a rope to him and to his car and back him out, cut him in half, cover him with lard and slip him out. The last idea seemed the best, as it usually does.

"Augusta, just hold on, I'm going to get some lard and slip you out."

"I'm not going anywhere, Dusty. That is the problem."

"Augusta, please have a sense of humor. It isn't every day that a cop is arrested by a dog door."

"Well, hurry up, will you?"

Dusty went back into the house and got the lard. "This will be very messy," she said to herself with a grin on her face. She went outside, but then decided that it was the part of him on the inside that needed the lard to slip back out. She went back inside and said,"now hold still while I take your shirt off. We don't want to rip the shirt when you come tumbling through the hole."

"Anything. Just do anything to get me out of here. What would the other cops say if they saw me like this?"

The Story, Part 1

"Eliza, before you get too involved with me, you'll need to know a few things about the pillows that I sell and about my past. Having been raised a good Catholic, I was taught to believe that confession will help the salvation of my soul. I can't really talk to a priest because he might think that what I have done is so bad that he'd turn me over to the authorities.

First, let me tell you about the pillows I sell. I used to buy fairly good pillows from wholesalers. But my credit got worse and worse, and so I had to improvise. If you notice, I always ask the customer for their old pillows. The truth be told, the problem with most pillows is that they haven't been adequately fluffed. I take the old pillows, rid them of their casings, dump the feathers into a heavy duty garbage bag, and viola, I have the makings of a new pillow. Pre-owned, as the car salesmen like to say.

I take the feathers and fill them into a pillow bag, as the industry calls them. Then I whip out that little sewing machine I have in my trunk and sew the seams together. I attach a look-alike label to the brand the Neiman-Marcus sells, and my total cost is never more than a couple of bucks a pillow.

You might think I'm sleazy doing this. I would understand that, but before you jump to any conclusions, please listen to why I believe that I make the world a much better place for all my customers.

As the Buddha discovered, people suffer. He was off-base thinking that the source of suffering was that they did not know their essential self. They suffer because they don't get any comfort at night. And I can alleviate that suffering by selling them a comfortable fluffed pillow.

Now you might wonder why I don't sell the pillows for ten dollars rather than one hundred and forty-nine dollars. We tend to enjoy quality things. And to the novice, there is little difference between quality and expensive. So I make it expensive and they love it.

Eliza, before I go on with the second story, I want to be sure that you are still with me, and that you want to join my missionary, so to speak, and give comfort to the multitudes that suffer so severely."

Augusta Decides

Augusta cooled down from the criticisms and decided to go back to Dusty's house with Dirty Hairy. He was a forgiving soul and knew that she only meant good with her criticisms.

When he returned to the house he knocked repeatedly on the door. No one answered. Dirty became quite agitated and started barking as they both wondered what happened to Dusty.

He tried the doorknob, but it was locked. He knocked again to no avail. Did she leave the house? Was she alright? Augusta did not know.

Dirty Hairy was not going to stand by. He leaped up on Augusta and knocked him down, and then ran off into the house through the dog door.

As Augusta watched Dirty Hairy from the ground, through the corner of his eye, he remembered how he learned to crawl through small holes in basic training in the marines and felt that he could make it through the dog door, or at least give it a "college" try.

So he got up, brushed off some of the mud on his pants, and walked over to the door. He then looked at the door, looked at his waist, and looked again at the door. "It is going to be close," he said to himself, "but I think I can make it."

Augusta sucked in his breath and started through the door. But Dirty Hairy wanted no part of letting Augusta use his door. The dog alternately barked and growled ferociously, making a big raucous. But Augusta was a brave marine and continued through the dog door, only to get stuck half way through. "Should have taken off my pants," he thought.

Then Augusta saw Dusty on the floor apparently staring at a dust bunny with tears rolling down her eyes. She was weeping hysterically.

"Dusty, Dusty," Augusta called out.

Eliza Steps up to the Plate

Eliza was desperate. She didn't want her opportunity to escape her torturous life to vanish. She decided to use the direct approach since the indirect approach was failing.

"Softy, I would like to go off with you and sell pillows on the road."

"Eliza, why would you ever want to do that? You'd have to leave your husband."

"I'm not sure that I could take another day with him. He treats me so badly, and this town has nothing to offer me."

"But the pillow business is very difficult. Selling to people you know is one thing, but cold calls are another. You have to be on your toes all the time, and you have to be able to stand the abuse."

"Oh, Softy, I would so much like to go under your wings and to learn the ropes."

"But would your husband let you go?"

"Of course not. I'm his virtual slave."

"Then what will you do?"

"I'll pack a suit case, and we'll just go before he comes home."

"Do you have any money? We could use a few bucks to get to the next town."

"I have $500 or so in my bank account. Since it is getting late we'd have to wait until tomorrow to withdraw the money."

"That would be good. We could travel pretty quickly then and he couldn't find us.

"Great. I could have the money and be ready at 10 tomorrow morning."

"Here, give your mother-in-law this pillow. Take her $150. The other pillow we can use in the next town to get orders. Do you think we ought to start selling kid pillows? We could tell people how a good pillow can raise a kid's IQ by 10 points. But we can talk more about that tomorrow."

"Okay, Softy, but before you go, may I kiss you."

"Eliza, of course. But before you do, I need to tell you a story."

Augusta's Dog Walk

Augusta had never walked a dog before. And this dog hadn't been walked in a long time. When these conditions occur, the dog usually walks the man. If it is a big dog, the dog runs the man. If it is icy or muddy, the man falls down. And if it is a really large dog, the man falls down and is dragged.

Dirty Hairy was bred to be a hunter. A soft mouthed dust bunny hunter, that is. Though no dust bunny would be worth her weight once mixed with canine saliva, training is training, and dirty hairy knew his role in life.

You might be thinking that Dirty, as Dusty called him, would snatch up domesticated bunnies that lived and romped in the house. But no, he knew the difference, and only went after the undomesticated bunnies that lived outside.

Dirty Hairy, like other hunters, had a great sense of smell and could track a bunny for miles. His concentration was perfect, which is why he graduated from his class with honors.

Augusta, on the other hand, had been cut down to nothing with the criticisms. He had great affection for Dusty, which made them sting even deeper. He knew that it would be far easier to simply walk up the road, turn around, take back Dirty to Dusty, and then leave forever.

It initially made no sense to him that this woman who professed to care so deeply for him wanted him to change every bone in his body. "What kind of love is that," he wondered.

Augusta, being a cop, was in pretty good shape. To remain a cop, he had to work out two times a week and to keep his weight and body fat under control. But still, it was quite a challenge to keep two feet on the muddy ground with Dirty tracking ever bunny that was within his sniff.

So Augusta's focus went back and forth between attempting to figure out the "dilemma," as he decided it was, and trying to stay on his feet. He had read an article on "mindfulness," and was somewhat confused about how he was supposed to concentrate on his dilemma, and at the same time stay upright. "We always need to be multitasking or our system will break down," he said to himself.

He remembered some of what he learned in his economic class from college and decided that he'd do a cost benefit analysis of becoming Dusty's soul mate vs. running off with his tail between his legs.

If he ran off, he thought, his life would continue to be relatively devoid of intimacy. But he could enjoy his cigars, his stomping like a bull in a china shop, and his ugly clothes. On the other hand, if we went with Dusty, he could enjoy a new and exciting intimate relationship, but he'd have to tolerate a slightly (to be generous) kookie woman.

The Door

Eliza's sweaty palms could hardly grip the door. She tried to turn the door knob, but her hand just slid around, never quite being able to turn it. Then her Catholic upbringing started talking to her, "what am I doing? I'm married to a good man." Next the survivor/romantic stepped in, her hand firmly connected with the door knob, and she swung open the door.

There was Softy with two pillows, one under each arm. Softy was about 5'6" and had a beer belly. To see him with a pillow under both arms was a little bit comical, though Eliza only saw the prince on the white horse who had come to save her.

"Softy, Softy," she said, "it is lucky that you've brought me some more pillows. Madonna wants to buy one."

"Hi Eliza. I thought that you might sell one. You were so enthusiastic about the pillows. You know that is the secret of good salesmanship. To truly love your product." Eliza thought that the second secret was to truly love Softy. Her heart was racing so much she realized that she needed to sit down.

"Come on in and get out of the muggy summer heat Softy."

"Don't mind if I do. Do you have a glass of water?"

"Sure. Would you like it with ice cubes? Maybe a slice of lemon?"

"How about with both? That will be great!"

Softy sat down on the plaid couch, with a king size white pillow on either side of him. Eliza went to the kitchen to get him his water. When she returned, she realized that it would be difficult to sit next to him because of the pillows, so she took one of the pillows and put it on the easy chair, and then plopped herself next to Softy, but because of the softness of the couch she probably ended up closer that she intended. She figured that if God had wanted things to be different he wouldn't have had her own such a soft couch.

Softy was a little uncomfortable being so close to Eliza. He started sweating a little. Eliza noticed the beads rolling down his brow and went to the bathroom to get a washcloth with cold water.

She brought it back to him and lovingly wiped his brow. The wind from the ceiling fan blew against his face and gave him a slight but pleasurable chill.

"Tell me, Eliza, did you have to sell the pillow to your mother-in-law, or did the pillow sell itself."

"Well, the difficult part was to get her to try it out. When she heard the price she wanted nothing to do with either me or the pillow. Finally I made a deal with her and she tried it, and then the pillow itself went into action. Her drunk son-of-a-bitch husband loved the way she looked when she awoke, her bags having disappeared from under her eyes and all, and so he told her to buy it, no matter what the cost."

"That is called a turn-a-round," Softy said. "I love that kind of sale. One minute you wonder why you knocked on the door, and a moment later you want this person to sell pillows for you. How about if we see if Madonna wants to sell pillows as well. You'll get a commission, since you found her, and the two of you could transform your town to becoming a haven for happy bagless under their eyes people.

Eliza was a bit dumbfounded about what to do next. Sure, it was great that Madonna sell pillows, especially if she would get a commission. She felt that she was missing a good opportunity to make the move on Softy.

Augusta Ponders

"Dusty, you have said some very hurtful things to me. I think I'll take a walk down the road and take in what you said. I learned in a workshop not to react instantly to such criticism."

"Augusta, please remember that it is only because I care for you and that I desire to pursue a relationship with you that I would say such things."

"I know that Dusty. What I'll have to think about is what will be left of me if I become who'd you like me to be. Let me take a walk."

"Would you like to take Dirty Hairy on a walk with you. He'd love that. He hasn't been on a walk with a man since Softy died."

"Sure. I can do that. But remember, I'm not making any response to your criticisms until I have a chance to process what you have said."

In the workshop Augusta learned a good process for taking criticism. Listen, then breathe deeply, then tell the person what you heard, then go away and consider what they have said, and then respond to the criticism (in person, if possible).

"Before I go on a walk, Dusty, I'd like to be sure that I'm hearing your criticism correctly. You want me to change three things: that I dress differently, that I give up cigars, that I give up beer, and that I walk gentler around your bunnies. Is that correct?"

"No, not exactly. I don't mind if you drink beer when you are not around me. And the cigars are fine as long as I don't have to smell them on your breathe. Maybe when you go hunting with the guys. Though I'd like you to be sure not to take any bullets when you go hunting so you are sure not to kill anything."

"Dusty, now you are going too far. Way too far."

Then Augusta remembered that he needed to process her criticisms so he took the leash that Dusty was holding in her hand and hooked it on to Dirty Hairy and they left in a flash, with Dirty Hairy leading the way down the road.

Softy Returns?

Eliza slept much later than usual. Having spent much of the night thinking about Softy cut in on her sleep, so that when she finally did fell asleep it was hard to wake up.

As well, she didn't want to face Alfred that morning, who'd be groaning about his hangover and about how we should just kill all the people in the world who weren't white and Christians. He wasn't a very nice man.

When she did awake, she listened carefully to see if Alfred had left the house before she opened her eyes. One advantage of living with a loud husband is that you always know when he's around, she thought.

She did not hear him, so she took a quick shower and put on some slightly enticing clothes for Softy. She contemplated packing but then decided that would be a little premature. And if Alfred should find the suitcase she'd be raked over the coals, or at least locked in a closet again.

After the shower and getting dressed she had a little breakfast. She didn't want to eat too much because her jeans were already so tight, and besides, this was as good of a time as any to start getting ready for a swimsuit.

Then she turned on the television to pass the time until Softy came. The first program was about people who loved animals more than humans, and the next was about women who left their abusive husbands. This was "close to home," she thought.

As she became more and more immersed in the stories of what these women endured, she momentarily forgot about Softy, only to be jolted out of TV land by a couple of sweet and non-threatening knocks on her door. Eliza quickly made sure her hair looked good and that her almost see through blouse was tucked in to her jeans. Then she ran to door following her racing heart. Was this Softy at the door? Was this her opportunity to have the kind of life she had dreamed of?

Dusty Reforms

Dusty is totally disgusted with Augusta. She is so put out by his rough manner, slovenly dress, smelly cigars, and awful beer. She realizes that she has three choices: tolerate him, throw him out, or change him.

She decides that toleration will not add to the quality of her life. And neither will throwing him out. So she decides to change him. He already has shown that he can change, as he moved from wanting to clean her dust bunnies up to recognizing that they are decent beings.

"Augusta, I am very disappointed in you. The other day you were a perfect gentleman. You were wearing that beautiful uniform with the six pointed star. You didn't smoke a god awful cigar, and you didn't have a six pack of beer. In addition, you walked gently around the house, careful not to squish any of my fair hairy friends.

If you'd like to be here with me, which I would love, you'll have to clean up your act. What will it be?"

No one had ever spoken to Augusta like this. Dusty certainly was going out on a limb giving Augusta this ultimatum. Had she made a terrific mistake? Would Augusta leave with his tail between his legs, never to return?

Hairy is quite agitated by Augusta as well. He joins in with Dusty's tirade by barking and growling. Augusta is red-faced, somewhere between being embarrassed and angry. No one had ever spoken to him this way, though he remembered as a kid that his mom had talked to his dad like this every day when he came home drunk. Finally his dad had enough and left for good. Augusta wondered if he should leave and put an end to this insane abuse.

Eliza Looks for Softy

Eliza didn't have a good way to contact Softy. She just had to wait and endure Alfred's foul breath and torrential wrath.

As she went to bed that night, with her head on her new pillow, she positioned her body as far as she could from Alfred. She turned her head toward the door and thought about how her life with Softy might be. They could be a real team since she had such a flair for selling and Softy knew his way around the country.

Eliza had no idea that Softy was married, and that he had abandoned his wife, Dusty. And she did not know that he was supposed to not only be dead but disintegrated as well.

As she laid on the pillow, she decided to run through a day with Softy, starting with how she'd wake up early one morning while Alfred was still asleep and get her packed lavender bag that was hidden behind the bushes on the side of her house and then she'd meet Softy down at the corner and they leave her little hick town behind in the fog.

They stop at roadside truckstops and eat apple pie and chocolate ice cream for breakfast, and work out the details for scoring a few pillow sales to get her through the day. Each day, except Sunday, she'd work hard with Softy. On Sunday she and Softy would sleep in until noon, and then after a leisurely lunch, would take a walk and look at store windows discussing what they'd buy with all their pillow money. Maybe some day they could buy a house and a swimming pool. Of course, she'd have to start doing something about the way she looked so that Softy would like to see her in a bathing suit.

After their daily strategy sessions, they'd separate and she'd focus on selling and he'd focus on leads for the following day. As well, it would be Softy's job to buy pillows from the pillow companies, which he'd be able to do because he knew them all and was able to get the pillows on consignment.

As she daydreamed on, only to be interrupted by Alfred's repeated nudges for sexual favors, she imagined how at the end of each day they'd have dinner at some expensive hotel, and she'd tell Softy about all the pillows she had sold, and also how she was going to clinch some sales tomorrow where she had left pillows today.

Each evening they would watch television in their hotel room and zone out from a hectic but fun day. As the late movie ended, they'd go to bed and hold each other tightly as they slept. It would be a much better life that her existence with Smelly Alfred, she thought.

Before long Eliza dropped off to sleep, only to be awakened periodically by Alfred's awful snoring. She'd repeatedly give him a sharp elbow in the ribs, and he'd shut up for a few minutes giving her a short and punctuated respice.

Augusta Returns

Though Dusty vowed not to fall asleep until Augusta came, she was wiped out from her long day and fell into a deep sleep.

She had an amazing dream about her dust bunnies having a meeting and deciding that they would come to her as a group and insist that she go out and look for Augusta. As the dream continued, she did find him, but he was in trouble, hanging on for his life on a root at the edge of a cliff. She pulled him to safety and he kissed her with a kiss that seemed to go on forever.

She was awakened with a knock on the door. She ran frantically to the door and said that she'd be there in a minute, then ran to the kitchen, stubbed her toe on some debris, splashed some water on her face, and went back to open the door.

Augusta was at the door so she opened it very carefully as to not to disturb any of her bunnies. What she saw was not quite the same man about which she had been fantasizing.

She remembered Augusta in his uniform with the six pointed star. He was wearing cargo shorts and a blue flowered Hawaiian shirt. He had a cigar hanging out of his mouth and a six pack in his hand. It looked like he hadn't shaved for a few days.

"Let me come in," he said.

"Well. Ok."

Dusty followed Augusta who clumsly trod across the floor, dropped his seat into the couch dislodging a large cloud of dust, and then opened a beer. Remembering his manners, he said, "Dusty, wanna a beer?"

Madonna Tries

Madonna had a long day, and the instant that her head hit the pillow she fell sound asleep. Eliza had quite a long day as well, so she decided to take a nap and let Madonna enjoy the benefits of a truly soft pillow.

Hours later they were both awakened by Madonna's husband, Alfred. He came in like a tornado, red in the face from too much sun and too much drinking. He started yelling at Madonna and Eliza, "what are you girls doing here . . . sleeping on the job?"

Both Madonna and Eliza were started by Alfred's rough demeanor. Madonna started to meekly answer Alfred, but before a word came out of her mouth, Alfred took one look at her and said, "is that the same woman who is my wife?" He wasn't one for a lot of complements.

"What do you mean, Alfred?"

"Mean. I mean, you look so refreshed. And those god-awful rings are gone from under your eyes. Did you get one of those operations? That will set us back."

"Alfred, Eliza is selling these wonderful pillows and I just had the sleep of my life."

"And you look great. I don't care about the price. Just give Eliza her due and I'll take you out to dinner."

Madonna slipped Eliza $149 and Eliza promised to bring Madonna a new pillow within a couple of days. Eliza couldn't wait to tell Softy of her success. Perhaps she could make enough money to run off with someone like Softy and leave her little hick town and drunk husband behind.

Slipping on a Ice Cube

Dear Dusty,

No sooner had I dropped the last letter to you in the mail box had I received a call from my boss on my cell phone. The current head of our homeland terrorism unit slipped on an ice cube and broke his hip. To make a long story short, I have been given the job until he recovers, with the added bonus that I'll be his assistant when he is able to come back.

The good news is that I'll be remaining in town. The bad news is that I'll be out of the unit of conforming those like my lovely Dusty who harbor undomesticated animals, so I won't be able to assist your friends.

I would like to see you again and I will call on you soon.

Affectionately,

Augusta

Dusty was overjoyed to say the least. What had appeared to be a tragedy was now a wish come true. She went back to the house and decided to prepare herself for Augusta's return.

First she decided to iron her clothes. This was a little difficult without electricity, but she built a fire in the fireplace and heated up the iron. It worked fairly well except it left some odd soot shapes on her white blouse.

Next she decide to wash up. She had a pail of rain water that she had collected and a bar of coat saved from when Softy used to do a lot of traveling. She scrubbed her hands and face, but left one finger dirty so that her friends would recognize her.

Then see went back to her waiting routine: pacing, sleeping, dreaming, and then meditating. When would Augusta come? What would it be like to see him now that she had decided to give him her heart?

Another Try

Eliza has made a resolution not to give up too easily. She recognized immediately a number of problems that would be the result of leaving Madonna's home. For one, it would be harder to face Madonna in the future, and for another, she'd have to explain to her husband where $150 had been spent. He might throw her out as well.

She remembered a movie she had seen about a civil rights march and decided to just simple lay on the ground limp. Madonna would have to figure some new strategy to deal with the woman who stole her only son.

"Eliza, you can't just lay there on my floor. I need to get the house ready for my bridge club."

"Madonna, I'm going lay here on the floor until you try the pillow."

"Eliza, there is no way that I'll put my head on a $149 pillow."

"That is your choice Madonna."

"If I put my head on the pillow I might stain it with my hair spray and then you'll tell me that I have to buy it."

"No. This particular pillow is the one I bought. Should you decide to buy one, it will be a brand spanking new one."

"Ok, then, I'll lay my head on the pillow if you'll promise to leave before my friends come over."

Madonna grabs the pillow and throws in onto the couch. You could almost hear the pillow shreak she threw it so hard. Then she laid her head on the pillow for a millisecond, and then threw the pillow back at Eliza."

"Ok, Eliza, I tried the pillow and it is terrible."

"You didn't close your eyes and relax."

"I don't have time to relax."

"And I don't have time to leave," Eliza said, "put the pillow under your head and close your eyes and count to 100. Then I'll leave."

"Promise."

"Yes, I promise."

Reversing Time

Dear Dusty,

I’m sorry that I did not have time to tell you in person, but I’ve been reassigned to Port Herman and will be leaving tomorrow. The evening I spent with you was one of the most special evenings of my life, and I regret not being able to get to know you better.

If you are in the Port Herman area, please look me up. In the meantime, please take care of your dust bunnies. I have left word with my superiors that you no long are harboring non-domesticated animals so your friends should be safe.

Yours truly,

Augusta Hitchcock

Dusty could barely believe her eyes, and thought for a moment that perhaps the tears in her eyes were creating the words. She wiped them away with her soiled shirttail and then read the letter once more. Unfortunately, her first reading was correct.

Here she had made a choice to give her heart to Augusta and now he was gone. This thought brought about another round of tears, and then the rational side of Dusty came out. She remembered how, in the Superman movie, Superman was able to reverse time by flying around the world, faster than the speed of light, in the opposite direction of its orbit. Not being much of a flyer, Dusty had another idea.

What would happen, she questioned (remembering again the Zen riddle of the hand clapping in the forest) if I just put the letter back in the mailbox. If I had never read the letter if wouldn’t be in my mind, would it?

She carefully resealed the letter and placed it into the mailbox. She really wanted to be sure not to see this letter again, so she stuck it toward the back of the box.

But something was in the way. Lo and behold, it was another letter from Dusty. Could it be that something has changed, she thought?

She dried her eyes and sat down to read the new letter. She noticed in this letter the same aftershave lotion that she loved so much on Augusta’s skin.

Cranky Mother-in-law

Eliza dropped by her mother-in-law’s house. She was confident and eager that this would be an easy sell. Softy, who was a master salesman, had sold her on the idea of the $149 pillow. She walked in with the pillow under her arm.

“Madonna, I have the most exciting pillow for you. You are going to love it. No more sleepless nights or waking up with bags under her eyes.”

Madonna was quite embarrassed about the bags under her eyes, and talked about them frequently. But if anyone else mentioned them she was ready to chop their head off.

“What do you mean “bags.” Do I look that terrible? What is wrong with your marriage that you always have to come over here and insult me?”

“Madonna, you are very beautiful for your age,” Eliza said, putting her foot deeper in her mouth.

“For my age. And tell me, why are you so cruel?”

“Please, let’s start all over. I have a pillow that will bring peace and contentment to your life.”

“Hey, listen lady. You may be frustrated with that son of mine, but I don’t need no damn pillow to be happy.”

At this point Eliza was getting quite frustrated. She was starting to wonder if she could sell pillows to anyone. Everything she said seemed to unsell this spectacular product that she had.

“Will you please just lay your head down on this pillow and close your eyes.”

“Eliza, that is the oldest trick in the house. Then you’ll steal some of my silverware and . . . “

“Madonna, I’ve made a good faith effort to do something nice for you, and you are full of such evil suspicions.”

“Ok. Ok. I’ll try out your pillow. How much is the pillow, anyway?”

“How much does a sleepless night cost you? How much is spent on sleeping pills in the United States each year?”

“Don’t con me, you daughter of a bitch. Just tell me how much is the pillow and I’ll put my head on it.”

“Madonna, it is $149 and worth every cent of it.”

“No pillow is worth $149.”

“How can you say that? You haven’t even tried it. Suppose you got so much rest that you could see a way to clean up your house a little?”

“And now you are calling me a bad housekeeper. Girl, you better get out of here before I throw you out of the window . . . pillow and all.”

With that, Eliza, in tears running down her cheek and a pillow under her arm, made a beeline to the front door.