Life, Love, and Facebook
#2 of Mother Mulda (Dead Story)
02 - Life, Love, and Facebook
Morning crested over the trees and brought the end to what Old Mother Mulda felt had to be an odd mushroom induced dream. An aching stiffness had been the introduction to every morning for the past three decades but the current morning promised less pain as she pushed out her limbs in an effort to stretch them. Sharp pain was expected but there was instead a luxurious crackle and the feeling of relief. Bringing her arms down brought contact with a warm soft body that caused her mind to halt as it tried to separate reality from her dream.
"Good morning, love," the gravely voice of Vincent rumbled in her ear.
"Vincent?" she asked and was surprised by the sound emitted from her own mouth. "What..." The wrinkled old bag she called a voice box was emitting smooth and sweet, sounds easily. Eyes opened and squinted at the day. A morning haze lifted slowly highlighting details like the man in her bed and the freedom of her movements. Running her thumb along her fingers she felt no hint of arthritis or loose skin.
Rising from her bed, with the strength of half a century past, Mulda moved across her home to the large mirror she often brushed her granddaughter's hair in. In it she saw her younger self with bright red skin and long silver hair. The contrast of what she expected played in her mind for a time then she turned to face the wolf-man.
"Vincent!"
"Mulda."
"What in the hell is going on?"
"What do your eyes tell you?"
"I'm forty with a bad sunburn... but my hair's still old and gray."
"Hair and nails are dead, Mulda. What grows is its place will be healthy but at current you must deal with parts of your old self."
Mulda looked at her withered old fingernails that contrasted strangely against the slender fingers that bore them. "I... I thought it was a dream. I thought maybe I had died and it was all part of paradise."
"I'm sorry Mulda, you're just going to have to stay here and be alive with the rest of us."
"You dirty old wolf," she smirked as a wave of giggling rose up in her body. Laughter of this strength was not something her old body could tolerate. She spun and danced and jumped, laughing and moving as she had watched her children's children do.
"Are you happy?" Vincent asked with a knowing grin.
"Happy isn't the word for it!"
"Well, I don't mean to scare you, but you must prepare for tonight."
"What happens tonight?"
"The second stage of your transformation," Vincent explained. "You are to become more wolf-like and it takes a great deal of energy to do so. You are going to need meat, eggs, and other hearty foods to survive the process."
"You say that like it might kill me."
"It has been known to happen, but you have already survived the most difficult of the process so I believe you will be alright."
Mulda eyed him suspiciously and tried to remember all that had been said between them. "Why do I get the feeling you are not telling me everything?"
"Because you are a smart old woman who knows much of people and how they work."
"I want to know... what else are you not telling me?"
"Many things, my love," he told her with a gentle smile, "but there is time for all of that later. For now, let us enjoy this beautiful day and the food my tribe has brought us."
"Tribe? When-"
"In the early morning while you slumbered they approached with their offerings. You know that you are to be the third of the chief and as such you are granted a certain status among my people... our people."
"So... you have two other wives who are above me?"
"No, but I have two other mates who have born me children and been with me a long time. The eggs in your body that were there when you're born have been used up and will not be grown anew just because you are young again. You will never produce more children, but you are to be my only concubine and that gives you special status. In time, you might even become our wise woman. I think you would be good at that."
"I..."
"Don't think too hard about it right now," Vincent said with a gentle raising of his paw. "Your mind can spin in circles another time. For now, let us simply enjoy what this day has brought us and relish in the lives we live."
*****
"Yes, Grandma... yeah, Granny... yes... yeah I'll here... yes, I agreed to meet him... yes, I'll give him a chance... yes, I'm sure he's a nice boy... I know, I know... yes, I love you too... I'm not gonna make a decision until I meet him... yes, Granny... yes, Granny... yes, I love you too... I love you Granny... bye." Jenny flipped her cell phone closed and shook her head. "Damn meddler..." she muttered. The old man her granny had recently moved in with was a nice enough sort, but he had a phone. Granny had not owned a phone during Jenny's life-time and now that she did the old woman was calling her at least once per day.
Now Jenny was sitting in a pretty pink blouse with a white mini-skirt waiting for a "nice young man" to show up for a blind date. Apparently the old man Granny was dating had a single grandson... and Granny wanted them to meet. It took three weeks for the old woman to wear her down but this new man, Vincent, had revitalized the old woman and now she could talk for days. Her voice was stronger too. Had it not been for the way her granny talked to her and the inflections in her speech patterns, Jenny might not have believed it was her Granny talking at all.
"Damn..." she muttered to herself. "Damn... damn... damn." She sipped her coffee and checked her watch.
"Jennifer Gould?" said a deep smooth voice that drew her eye.
"Uh... John?" she managed to say as she looked into the dark eyes of a man she swore resembled a hawk.
"Nice to meet you," he said, smiling with a grin that she knew meant he approved of her appearance. "Mind if I have a seat?"
"Oh... sure," she said, and began playing with an end of her long red hair.
"So... did your granny put you up to this?"
"Yeah, she wouldn't leave me alone 'till we met," she said with a giggle that made her hate herself.
"Well, my grandfather had a much more direct approach," John said, as he scratched his short dark hair.
"What did he do?"
"He said, "boy," he said, gruffing up his voice to imitate his grandfather, "if you ever want to drink my coffee again, you'll go meet that girl and give Mulda no guff 'bout it."
Jennifer laughed. "Wow... is he that scary?"
"Well... he does make good coffee." A real laugh escaped Jennifer as she blushed. "Hmmm... that color looks good on you," John commented, causing her to look at the ground.
*****
"Best... date... EVAR!" Jennifer typed into her Facebook account which was quickly commented by Sara and Meghan. Girly details passed back and forth about their fifth date, the dinner they had, the movie they watched, and how they had finally shared their first kiss on the lips. "This was way better than the kiss on the back of my hand. It was warm, soft... and he tastes great."
"So," Meghan typed her in private chat, "is he team Edward or Jacob?"
"Totally Jacob," Jennifer typed back. "He's Native American AND into werewolves. He said a werewolf would kick a vampire's ass any day of the week!"
LOL's were exchanged and the night went on.