The ReLife Project Collection

Chapter 5

In a low raspy voice, the old black woman spoke from the bed she was tethered to for over two months. "Georgie, why do you always have to argue with me? Can"t you just once do what I ask?"

Grandma LeeLee"s death bed request wasn"t difficult. It would take about thirty minutes to do. All he had to do was wrap a small maple wood box in a protective shipping container, take it to a nearby transport station and send it to the Swiss Zone. It was a reasonable request from his dying grandmother except for one thing. He had to ship the box to his younger brother, Rodolfo, who he considered a traitor to the Sweats family and World Council.

M.C. Sweats, also known as Georgie to his 112-year-old great-grandmother, didn"t want anything to do with his brother, Rodolfo. As far as he was concerned, Rodolfo died the day he left the family and moved to the Swiss Zone of Cooperative Thought. It didn"t matter that Rodolfo sent hundreds of world credits to the Sweats family each month. He went out of his way to help them live a little bit better than most other families. And it didn"t matter that he also sent gifts to each member of the Sweats family. He never missed their birthdays or year-end commemoration of World Unification Week.

M.C. knew the year-end presents were meant to celebrate the outlawed religious holiday known as Christmas. For the other members of the Sweats clan, it didn"t matter one iota what the presents commemorated or celebrated. They loved receiving new clothes, toys, gadgets, appliances, and foodstuffs from Rodolfo. Everything they received kept them a step above the poverty level. To them, Rodolfo was more benevolent and understanding than the central government which provided just enough to maintain a subservient existence. Rodolfo was a hero to all the Sweats except M.C. and a few distant uncles.

It burned M.C."s ass that his brother enjoyed such respect and appreciation. Who ran off to live a life of privilege in a free zone? And, who stayed behind to confront the daily problems of the Sweats family? It was easy sending gifts from the other side of the world. But the real sacrifice was taking care of and watching every step taken by a group of under-educated, naive people like the Sweats.

When Rodolfo"s gifts arrived, the real challenge began for M.C. Each time he had to warn the family members not to flaunt their new gifts around town. Otherwise, they risked drawing the attention of government agents. The last thing the family needed was government scrutiny. M.C. had to make sure none of the Sweats appeared to have a better life than anyone else. It was important that everyone looked equally poor.

The gifts from the zone were easy to spot due to their quality. But when the Sweats bragged about their gifts it made things dicier. M.C. knew it was a matter of time before someone in the family was tagged for violating the Standard of Living Codes. That person would most likely lose their allocation of world credits. Then, undue hardship would be placed on the remaining family members trying to keep the violator fed, housed, and alive.

Each time a transport agent arrived at the Sweats family home with a load of packages, M.C. wanted to write "no such person—no forwarding address" on the boxes. He"d love to see Rollie"s face when they were returned. But he had yet to develop enough inner strength and courage to do this. He knew he would get caught and that would lead to more family turmoil than accepting the gifts. Until he thought of a way to deal with this delicate situation, he would let his hatred boil over each time the gifts arrived or heard the name, Rollie.

M.C."s thoughts about his brother were interrupted by LeeLee"s wheezing and labored breathing. He didn"t want to be at her bedside when she died but it looked more and more likely that was going to happen. Even though they argued often, he loved the old woman who was more of a parent to him than his mother.

For M.C., it was much easier watching an acquaintance or stranger die than someone he was emotionally bonded to. There was so much death occurring in the Macon area he became detached and callous to it. Malnutrition and inadequate medical health services resulted in alarming death rates. He ignored the problem and only spoke about the dead when he was drugging it up with his buddies and they needed something to laugh about.

"Georgie, are you going to do what I ask, or do I have to send the Haints after you?"

"Grandma, I"ll send the box to Rodolfo. Just for you, my dear, just for you." M.C. took her hand and stroked it gently hoping to ease the pain and open the door a little wider for her departure. After all, living to over a hundred was almost unheard of. Rationed food and few medical supplies and equipment had reduced the average life expectancy by 15 years compared to rates before the FISS plague.

She had lived a good life and it was now time to join her relatives in the afterlife if there was one. Besides, extending her life by using rationed drugs and technology was denying a young person those lifesaving items. M.C. understood this philosophy but had difficulty explaining it to the rest of the family. They couldn"t understand or agree with M.C."s explanation of why Grandma"s hastened departure would benefit the rest of society.

As he sat at her bedside watching her soul slip away, M.C. couldn"t help thinking back to their time together. Each laugh, argument, and silent moment they shared raced through his mind. He almost laughed out loud when he thought about LeeLee"s threat to send the Haints after him.

He had been hearing about the Haints for as long as he could remember. She used them to scare kids, and sometimes adults, into doing things they didn"t want to do. Grandma described Haints as departed souls who hung around Earth because they were having difficulty taking the last step into the spirit world. Having nothing better to do, the Haints made life miserable for anyone who was difficult or naughty by Grandma"s standards. This was especially true of kids, who refused to do their chores or go to bed at night.

Grandma LeeLee started every Haints story the same. "This is the way your great-great-great-grandfather told the story. Ya all know he was a slave on a cotton plantation in Mississippi." She then launched into a detailed Haints story which took at least twenty minutes to tell. By the end, the younger children were frightened out of their wits. The older kids begged to leave and get back to the important job of horsing around. Clever Grandma LeeLee kept them at her side until they agreed to do whatever chore she assigned.

Grandma"s descriptions and stories about the Haints were endless. M.C. couldn"t ever remember hearing the same story twice. For him, her stories were entertaining, but he never considered the Haints as scary as real ghosts. What scared the hell out of him though was Grandma LeeLee"s belief in the existence of the Haints. She shuddered when she spoke about them and the look in her eyes was as convincing as the sky was blue.

At age 40, M.C. was agnostic toward the existence of Haints. He could argue all he wanted about the Haints being lies or fables. Grandma LeeLee always came right back with five reasons from Haints folklore proving they were real. After years of arguing he gave up and declared them a possibility.

At two o"clock in the morning M.C."s mother, Frontane Sweats, took over sitting at Grandma"s death bed. M.C. crawled into bed to get a few hours of sleep before heading to the government distribution center where he was an allocation specialist. The four to five hours per day he spent at the distribution center were a great diversion from his boring life. It was so rewarding and fulfilling he wished he could contribute more hours per week to his post which was the socialist version of a job. But the government had strict rules about the number of hours each citizen could contribute. A mere 20 hours a week was all it took to maintain a person"s value to society. The last thing M.C. wanted to do was violate the government work code and blemish his perfect record.

value to society.After leaving the distribution center, M.C. headed to the transport station to send Grandma"s box to Rollie. If Grandma LeeLee was still alive by the time he got home, he didn"t want to face her cross-examination about whether he sent the box.

Before wrapping the box, he couldn"t resist looking inside. He wanted to see what was so damn important that it must be sent to the Swiss Zone at an outrageous expense to the Sweats family. As he suspected, there wasn"t anything important inside the box. It was empty except for a brief note from Grandma LeeLee which read: Rodolfo: what I promised you long ago. I"ve received word from Him that you need this now. Remember what I told you. The obvious isn"t always obvious. Love Grandma.

Rodolfo: what I promised you long ago. I"ve received word from Him that you need this now. Remember what I told you. The obvious isn"t always obvious. Love Grandma.He was sure this woman was going to drive him crazy before she left this world. He knew she had strong religious beliefs but now she was communicating directly with God, the made-up Creator and Lord of the Universe. Who else could she be referring to when she used the word, Him? At least he got a little bit of humor out of this. He could see her in his cartoon bubble talking on a micromic communicator to the heavens or wherever God called home.

And, what was the comment, "the obvious isn"t always obvious" supposed to mean? It wasn"t enough that she spoke to the Creator of Man, she also used code language to talk with her favorite grandson. M.C. laughed to himself thinking about his brother reading this sentence. He could see Rollie scratching his head in Zurich trying to decode and figure out its meaning.

M.C. was tempted to toss the box in the trash, go home and lie to Grandma about having sent it to the Swiss Zone. As much as he wanted to do this, he knew he couldn"t look her straight in the eyes and claim to have followed her instructions. Even with poor vision, she would feel his deceit. Somehow, she always knew when a kid was lying to her.

After the moment of reconsideration, M.C. wrapped the box, paid the transport fee, and sent it on its way. He could now quit being irritated by the entire ordeal and face his grandmother with a clear conscious.

When he got home, he was surprised to find nearly all the Sweats family members gathered throughout the dining and living rooms. At first, he took this mob of relatives to mean that Grandma LeeLee had passed away. But the jubilation, joking, and upbeat conversations indicated the opposite. Grandma LeeLee had not died but rather made a miraculous recovery. She was sitting in a recliner chair surrounded by a dozen or more of her descendants, relatives, and neighbors.

M.C. made his way through the crowd and got close to the recliner. He arrived just in time to hear LeeLee say, "Kids, God has given me a new lease on life. He came to me last night and said I had a few things left to do before joining him up above. So, I"ll be staying right here pestering each of you as I have…"

That was all M.C. could remember from Grandmother"s announcement that she was far from death"s door. He was shocked by how good she looked and the energy she displayed at her not-going-away party. He was happy she recovered but there was something very odd about this turn of events. He could feel it in his gut; something just wasn"t right. A few short hours before she was gasping for air and her body temperature was dropping like a rock. Now, she looked twenty years younger. How could such a radical recovery and change take place? It wasn"t natural and defied the precepts of medicine. There had to be a logical explanation other than God told her she had more work to do on Earth. M.C. refused to believe that drivel. But, all the "Praise be God" and similar religious remarks indicated that those around her chair were more convinced than ever of the existence of a loving Creator.

not-going-away"M.C. M.C. Boy, you come over here and give your Grandma a big hug."

His thoughts about his grandmother"s remarkable recovery vanished. He put a big smile on his face and trotted over to hug and sit by her.

"Grandma, you look great. How do you feel? I can"t believe how good you look. Did the doctor give you something …?"

"M.C. calm down. I feel great and no one on Earth doctored me. My medicine came from above. I"ve told you all the time to trust in the Lord. And, if you do that, everything will turn out okay."

"Well, Grandma, I"m not sure how you made such a great recovery but I"m glad you did."

LeeLee gave one of her raspy chuckles, kissed M.C. on the cheek, and added, "By the way M.C., thanks for mailing the box to Rodolfo. He needs that box bad. The next couple of years are going to be so exciting and he"s going to be right in the middle of it. In fact, you will be too."

Thank God, he chose to send the box. If Grandma was going to be around for a while, as it now appeared, then he made the right choice. But what the hell did she mean by the next couple of years were going to be exciting and the Sweats brothers were going to be in the middle of things? Was this another secret communique from her God or did she have a screw loose and think she could foretell the future? M.C. had no idea what to think. If there was a God, then He was probably the only one who knew for sure.

For the next hour, M.C. sat at her side, welcoming, shaking hands, and making small talk with the Sweats family members. He was pleased to see the number of neighbors who showed up for the festivities and free food. Following the custom, they brought food and beverages to the celebration. At least he wouldn"t have to foot the bill for feeding the entire crowd.

Finally, he excused himself to go to the buffet-style food table. All this celebration made him hungry and he was a soft touch for the home-cooked dishes made by the women in the neighborhood.

As M.C. stood behind the food table eating a little bit of every dish, he scanned the room. He wasn"t looking for anyone in particular but rather taking inventory of the guests.

For the first time in his life, he realized something so obvious it had slid by his conscious mind for decades. He stopped eating and stared at his grandmother and the relatives standing and sitting around her.

Grandma LeeLee looked a lot like his younger brother, Rodolfo. She had the same light complexion and chiseled nose and lips. The only prominent Negroid feature was the tightly wound hair on her head. He guessed that if he could find a picture of LeeLee from eighty years before the two of them would appear to be brother and sister.

He had never seen or paid attention to this resemblance in the past. It was probably the darker-skin Sweats now standing around her who highlighted the differences. Most Sweats had medium or very dark skin with broad noses and lips. Even the color of their hair was several shades darker than the color of LeeLee"s and Rodolfo"s hair.

He wondered if anyone else in the family had noticed these differences. He was reluctant to say anything about this to any family member. There was no sense in creating another family dispute. But he decided to do a little snooping and try to figure out how this happened. Was it due to normal breeding and genetics or reflect something more secretive or sinister?