Mother met Scarecrow in the early 80's I'm not sure what year but
it was at the now famous Mr. Lucky's Lounge in Gary Indiana. Mother
was young.. beautiful.. a fiery... fearless red head with skin as
white as snow. She looked as though she'd come straight out of the
hills of Ireland. She was self educated and very bright. She had an
aptitude for almost everything. I remember getting in trouble
at school so Mother came to talk to my teacher. After listening to
him go over the highlights of the incident Mother chimed in and gave
him a thorough and artfully articulate tongue lashing. She shared
with him some of her insight into the mind of a child as seen through
the eyes of seasoned educator. She chastised him. She wasn't rude or
even condescending but she communicated that she was a far better
teacher than he would ever be. She answered his questions about her
background without pause and batted him back with another round of
observations. Of course Mother had never been a teacher of any
kind... she didn't graduate from high school but you would never have
known it. But that was Mother... she could walk into a new environment
and within minutes she could hit the ground running.
I suppose that's why he was interested in her. They shared a
glance.. a smile and then a drink. After hours of conversation he
told her who and what he was... She didn't believe him at first but
the sobered look on his face and the CIA identification he flipped
open from his pocket confirmed his story. She told her sister she was
leaving with the tall handsome man by the door. Mother and the tall
handsome spy left the bar together. She never told me why he was at
the bar that night... only that he was traveling across the toll
road. I don't know if he was there for her or if for some other
purpose and their meeting was some chance encounter. For what ever
reason.. they met.
Scarecrow took her back to his hotel. He asked her once more if
she was sure...there was no going back. But she wanted it.. She
needed the escape.. she needed to climb through that window into a
hidden world. A small incision.. a tiny chip... an injection... a
tape player on the desk playing an almost familiar sound. The noise
became ordered.. The order became information. Time became irrelevant
as the serum spread through her veins.
A couple of snaps from his finger woke her. He asked her if she
was alright... and she wasn't sure but she answered yes just the
same. He asked her who she was and without hesitation she answered..
Snow White.. Snow White the Russian version. He told her he would be
calling soon and she got out of the black sedan. She couldn't
remember being driven home and she could remember very little of what
happened after leaving Mr. Lucky's but she knew she was sleepy. And
she slept... off and on for days.
Weeks later she got a call. She didn't speak..she listened for a
moment then hung up the phone. She told us not to use the phone and
not to leave the house. She was gone for three days and when she got
back she slept for nearly a week. I didn't like the calls. It always
meant she had to go. Sometimes it meant we had to move out of our
home on a moments notice... throwing our belongings on a sheet and
wrapping them all up.. out the door and into the car. We bounced back
and for the from state to state. Location to location whenever
Scarecrow said we had to. It was a hard life but we adapted.
My brother and I never met Scarecrow... the years passed. Mother
grew older and grew tired. She suffered a physical and mental
collapse and was put in the hospital for several weeks.. when she was
released the calls ceased. Eventually we grew up and started families
of our own and Scarecrow became a distant memory.
Mother relished having grandchildren. She was tireless when it
came to them... always there to lend a hand... pick up the slack or
give a break. One afternoon she came over to sit with the children
while I ran errands. She sat on the sofa and made herself
comfortable. The television was on but I had pushed the mute button
earlier to take a phone call. My son had come into the living room
and stretched out on the carpet... perfectly content to stare at the
silent screen. I was talking to mother when I noticed a change in her
face. She lost all emotion... her expression went flat... then she
smiled. I asked her if she was alright but she didn't respond. She
just kept smiling and staring. For a few moments she sighed and the
words “Hello Scarecrow... “ crossed her lips in a whisper. I
reached for the remote and turned up the volume. The sound of his
voice broadened her smile. The television show was one in which one
faction was pitted against another opposing faction in a simulated
engagement... experts were called in for technical information and
other insight. In this particular episode the CIA faced the KGB. A
former cold war CIA operative... the tall handsome man... had been
called in for technical analysis. Mother looked on for several
minutes.. she chuckled once or twice in response to some anecdote.
Eventually she took a long deep breath... let it out slowly... turned
to me and smiled with the lids of her eyes moistened with yet to fall
tears. She didn't say another word about Scarecrow... she just told
me to take my time that she and the kids would be just fine.
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