Medusa

Chapter 1- Medusa

Medusa. What mother in their right mind would ever name their child Medusa? That’s just the problem, though. Her mother was not in her right mind.

Her friends just called her Deucy for short. Deucy had lived her last sixteen years in the shadow of an overbearing, paranoid, ‘helicopter mom,’ who monitored her every move, so, when she asked to join the after-school creative writing club, Clara Sorbet naturally opposed.

The Sorbet family’s matriarch, Clara, insisted their name be pronounced Sor-Bay, like the French frozen dessert, rather than Sor-bett. The name may have meant one in the same, but Clara made sure the pronunciation cast her family in an ‘upper crust’ sort of light. Unfortunately, they were anything but uppercrust.

Clara’s husband, Henry, had been killed in an industrial accident, which resulted in a monetary compensation of nearly a million dollars. Clara quickly burnt through that money, spending the majority on phony fortune tellers, clairvoyants and astrologers - only to lose the remaining bulk in a pyramid scheme.

Deucy couldn’t be bothered by any of it. All she ever wanted to do was write. She considered the term “starving artist” to be her nemesis; and even more so now that her mother had spent all of their money.

Medusa Anne Boleyn Sorbet. Deucy sometimes thought becoming a famous writer would be the only way she could escape her hideous name (she often sat in class, scribbling out potential nom de’ plumes on her notebook) so when she and some friends from English class heard about the new creative writing course offered after school, she was delighted at the thought.

Chapter 2 - Convincing Clara

The last bell of the day rang as Deucy gathered her backpack and books. “Hey, Deuce, so ya gonna go then?” asked Kayla, her best friend. “I’m gonna have to convince my mom,” Deucy lamented. Kayla rolled her eyes as she leaned up against the lockers. “Oh, man, ya know what that means.”

Clara had kept Deucy in a cocoon ever since she nearly drowned at a family friend’s pool party. The adults had all been taking turns watching the children, but somehow Deucy, then three, escaped the watchful eyes and fell into the shallow end. It wasn’t until one of the other children yelled to an adult that she was discovered. That was enough for Clara to demand to know where she was at nearly every waking moment of her life. Sometimes, Deucy would even wake up to her mother standing over her, watching her sleep. This might be considered normal ‘hyper-vigilant’ behavior due to the circumstances, but Clara went way beyond that. She was never in her right mind.

All of Deucy’s friends thought her mother was a real ‘basket case,’ and deep in her heart, Deucy had to agree.

“C’mon, at least go with us to the initial class. Maybe the instructor will call and talk to your mom.” Deucy was reluctant but agreed to accompany them to the first creative writing class. There, they would get an overview of instruction, hints, and suggestions, then they could begin writing stories of their own. That was gonna be the fun part - the hard part was going to be convincing Clara.

Chapter 3 - It's in the Stars

As soon as the class was over, Deucy made a beeline for the door. She knew she was going to have to answer a million questions once she got home, so the sooner she could get there the better off she’d be.

As she approached her front porch, her mother stood in the doorway, arms crossed with a look of grave concern. “Where have you been, young lady?” she snapped. Deucy began to tell her mom about the great writing class and how it would open up opportunities for her that she’d been dreaming of since she was little. Clara seemed oblivious to her speech as she peeled potatoes and arranged them in the roasting pan.

“So, what do you think, mom? Can I go?” “What?” asked Clara, turning around. “Go where?” Deucy hung her head in utter frustration. She hadn’t heard a word she said.

Suddenly, Deucy got an idea. Clara’s laptop was open to the familiar sites she frequented. A large banner screamed across the page “Astrology - Know Your Tomorrows Today!” Deucy flipped to her astrological sign, Pisces.

“Mom, did you see this?” She turned the laptop towards her mother. Her reading said:

“Today is your lucky day. You will succeed in your decisions but beware of false hope.”

Deucy thought the ‘generic’ astrological readings were ridiculous, as were the tarot cards and fortune tellers, but she knew her mother put her whole heart and soul into the advice she got from them. “It’s in the stars, mom,” Deucy whispered. Clara leaned forward, gazing at the reading with reverence.

Chapter 4: Death in the Family

The next day at school Deucy let her friends know that she had succeeded in convincing her mother to let her attend the class. They were all so excited! Deucy, Kayla, Lindsay and Steph would be together in one group. Their first assignment was to be a collaborative story. They could write about anything they liked. They sat at the table and milled over the different genres and interests of each girl. In the end they decided on a murder mystery.

“What should we call it?” asked Steph. A few titles were tossed around and before the class ended, they had come up with a title: Death in the Family.

At last, Deucy thought she would be able to showcase her talents as a writer. She didn’t consider herself to be a great one, but she knew she possessed the passion and had a knack for fitting stories together.

Each group member received a notebook with the title of their story on the front. It was their personal scratch pads in which they could rough draft their ideas and changes before submitting the final manuscript to the editor-in-chief. Deucy put hers in her backpack and headed for home.

Chapter 5: Writers at Work

Saturday morning came and Deucy had been lying awake all night thinking of plots for the story. She kept her notebook by her nightstand so she could scribble down her thoughts without having to turn on her light. (She was convinced that her midnight brainstorming ideas would dissolve if she were to suddenly switch on her table lamp.

Unfortunately, that idea left a mess of her page when the sunlight came spilling into the room. Her sentences ran into each other, sometimes overlapping other words or running off the edge of the paper.

The girls had decided to take turns working at each other’s homes and today was Deucy’s turn. Lindsay, Kayla and Steph were coming at one o’clock. Deucy hurried down to make some snacks before they came over. “What are you doing today?” her mother asked. “Ma-hahm, I told you, it’s my turn to have the girls over to work on our book.” She quickly threw some sandwiches together and grabbed some sodas and a bag of chips.

The doorbell rang just as Deucy reached the stairs. “Come in,” she yelled. The girls entered together and proceeded to follow Deucy up the stairs. “Do you need help?” Kayla asked, offering to grab the plate of sandwiches. As they made their way up the stairs, Clara stood in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at them. “Hello, Mrs. Sorbet,” Lindsay said with a quick wave. “It’s Sor BAY,” Clara corrected her.

Chapter 6- Forgotten Notebook

Clara Sorbet was on disability for a myriad of mental health problems. She had been on medications throughout her adult life. Personally, Deucy thought of them as more of a hindrance to her mom than a help.

One morning, Clara sat in her kitchen, opening her many bottles of medicines, and pouring them into a saucer. By the time she was done, a rainbow of pills in all shapes, sizes and colors dotted the plate. Clara sighed as she took her large glass of water and began her daily ritual of downing the first dose of her twenty-two pills a day.

She began to tidy her home. It was a modest two story in a quiet neighborhood. Luckily their home had been paid off before her husband’s accident, otherwise she probably would have lost it during her frivolous spending spree.

She made her way to the top of the stairs and began to make the beds….

…. meanwhile, at school Deucy headed for her writing class. She sat down and opened her backpack to discover she had left her notebook at home.

“Oh, I’m so mad at myself. I had some great ideas!” The other girls let her look at their notes for the day.

Chapter 7: Clara’s Delusion

As Clara moved into her daughter’s room, she began to make the bed. Deucy had tried to make it herself, but her mother always came in right behind her and remade it. To her, she could never do anything right in Clara’s eyes.

Clara finished off the bed making with some fuzzy, pink pillows and a giant stuffed dog. She proceeded to run a feather duster over the furniture when she spied Deucy’s notebook on the floor near the end table. She picked it up and sat down on the edge of the bed. As she opened it, she began to read….

The fledgling story was about a daughter who kills her mother for her inheritance. As Clara read, she began to pick up little similarities in the story that could pertain to their own lives.

Here was a girl from a small, suburban town who was an only child, she had no father living in the home and her mother was overabundantly wealthy. (That seemed to be the only thing that didn’t coincide with her life.) As Clara read each page, she began to believe this story was about her. After all, she had been overabundantly wealthy at one time. Her paranoid mind was about to distort this tale from an innocent work of fiction to, in her eyes, a very real threat.

8: The Cat Incident

As the days went on, Deucy would continue to write in her notebook, merging the thoughts and ideas that the others had contributed. The book was coming along splendidly. Every night, Clara began to sneak into Deucy’s room and remove the notebook, reading each new entry. The story had continued with the girl plotting murder against her mother and she had now enlisted a few of her friends to help her.

Clara was becoming terrified. Perhaps that’s why the girls were coming over! She knew she had to do something. If Deucy was plotting to kill her, she would have to be ready to thwart her efforts.

Deucy never thought of her mother as “unpredictable" or "frightening.” She knew beneath that mental illness lay a caring, compassionate soul, desperate to thrive in society like everyone else. She loved her mother but had seen Clara at her best and her worst.

She recalled the time that her mother claimed the cat was talking to her, so she threw it out the window. The poor cat survived but had to be put down shortly after since the fall had broken its back. That episode landed Clara in a mental ward under three days’ observation.

She had been diagnosed as having paranoid-like delusions with several other “syndromes” and “disorders” attached to the names. Some of the medicines that were given to Clara seemed to actually cause hallucinations thereby increasing her fears and paranoia.

Deucy felt it was her job to protect her mother. Many neighbors gossiped about Clara and shunned her when they saw her in the store or park.

Little by little, Clara began to withdraw from society, staying indoors, surrounding herself with only her tarot cards and astrology books. And now, she was certain that the scribbled, overlapping words in Deucy’s notebook were secret codes among her daughter and her friends. They were doing it on purpose so she couldn’t decipher their plots and schemes.

Chapter 9: The Birthday Present

Clara’s birthday was only a month away and Deucy was hoping to finish the book so she could give it to her as a present. “Wouldn’t that be great?” she beamed to the others. “My dream of becoming a full-fledged author - being able to show my mom that I had DONE IT!” The other girls agreed, and everyone tried to keep on task so the book could be finished in time.

As a back-up, Deucy wanted to get her mom another gift in case the book wasn’t finished by her birthday. She knew what Clara was into and even though she thought her interests were a bit ‘off,’ she figured she needed to respect the differences. After all, Clara wasn’t into writing like she was, but she never really gave Deucy grief about it, aside from the class itself.

One day, Deucy went to the Antique store in town. As she browsed through the stuffy furniture, hordes of glassware, nic-nacs and old photographs, she spied a beautiful, wooden bookcase. “This would be perfect for mom,” she said, running her hand along the side. Clara had amassed quite a library of self-help books, not to mention astrology, herbology and even potions, and though she never deemed herself a “witch” all of Deucy’s friends assumed that’s what she was.

The bookcase was made of cherry wood, with a deep, glossy shine. Across the top, various carvings of beautiful flowers and birds sat in their own little circles, while a large swan sat in the middle; its neck bending gracefully over the top shelf.

“You can’t fit that in your car,” said Kayla.

“I know!” she blurted, “my brother might let me use his truck.” Deucy thought that was a great idea. She went with Kayla to her brother’s house to ask.

“Where are you gonna put it?” Kayla’s brother asked, while he drove them back to the antique store. Deucy decided to put it in the garage. Since Clara no longer drove, she rarely went out there. “I’ll just cover it with a tarp or something.” She rode home with the hope that her book would be the first to grace its shelves.

Chapter 10: The Peculiarities of Clara

The next time it was Deucy’s turn to have the girls over, Clara was sitting in the kitchen surrounded by her objects. Her tarot cards lay in different positions while several candles adorned the table. On the stove, a pan of brownish blue water bubbled and boiled, occasionally bubbling over. The rich aroma of sandalwood incense permeated the entire house.

Clara had stacks of boxes from mail orders she’d received. She was always buying the latest fads or gadgets from online advertisements. Luckily, she was still receiving a disability check, and unfortunately, this is where most of it went.

“What’s goin’ on, mom?” Deucy asked. “Why is it so dark in here?” “Shhh,” whispered Clara, placing her finger to her lips. “I’m trying to contact your father.”

She sat at the table in a bright pink and red floral nightdress; a large, feathered boa around her neck. She touched the tarot cards with heavily ringed fingers, flipping some over, and moving the others. Deucy rolled her eyes and started back upstairs.

A few moments later, the doorbell rang. “Come in,” Deucy yelled from the top of the stairs. The girls entered the smoky room and could see Clara sitting in the dark amongst the candles and cards. “What is she doin’ now?” one of the girls snickered. Suddenly, Clara shot a cold, icy stare towards her, as if she’d heard her from the other room. They reached Deucy’s bedroom and closed the door behind them.

11: Listening

As the girls began to work on the book, Steph remarked, “what’s with your mom, dude? She’s soo weird!” Kayla gasped “Steph!” she uttered, “that’s not cool.” She gave Steph a dirty look.

“Oh, it’s okay. I know she’s a little peculiar,” laughed Deucy. “But you guys should be extra nice to her tonight. Tomorrow’s her birthday. I thought I’d give her her present tonight since the book’s not done. You can stay and have cake with us if ya want.”

The girls agreed to stick around until Deucy gave her mom her gift. They were nearly done with the book, but it looked as if it wouldn’t make the birthday cut off. It still needed to be edited and printed.

“How should we end it?” asked Deucy. Kayla began to pitch her ideas. “Hold that thought,” said Lindsay getting off the bed. “I gotta use the bathroom.” She opened the door to find Deucy’s mom standing there with a startled look on her face. Clara was caught unaware as she had evidently been trying to listen to the girls’ conversations but could only hear their muffled voices through the door. She was certain they were plotting to kill her, possibly that night.

“Oh, sorry to bother you girls. I was wondering if you’d like to try my new hot, cinnamon fruit tea. I just made a fresh batch.”

“That sounds great, mom,” replied Deucy. “We’ll be down in a minute.

Chapter 12: Surprise!

The girls continued to work on their chapters, stopping just long enough to go down for cake. Clara stood at the stove, straining the bubbly concoction into a large teapot.

“Just in time,” she said as she took several cups and saucers from the cupboard. “I’m really not a tea drinker,” remarked Lindsay. Deucy gave her a look as if to plead. “Please?” she whispered, holding her fingers up in a half-pinch. “Just try this much.” Lindsay reluctantly agreed just to appease Clara, after all, it was her birthday.

Deucy often found herself treating her mother as if she were her own child, trying to shield her, (though maybe not as much as Clara shielded Deucy.) She tried to give her her way whenever she could, maybe even spoiling her a bit. She felt sorry for her mom and all that she’d been through, and sad that she couldn’t ‘fix’ her, so something as insignificant as a cup of tea could mean the whole world to Clara.

“I have a few surprises for ya mom. Since the girls aren’t going to be here tomorrow for your actual birthday, we all wanted to give you the surprises tonight.” Deucy took a large, paper bag from the hutch in the dining room. She pulled out a beautiful white cake with spring flowers.

Clara sat, unemotional. Thank you, she said in a flat tone. Kayla looked at Steph and they both shook their heads slightly. Lindsay couldn’t help but snicker a little at Clara’s strange behavior.

Deucy began to cut the cake as Clara poured the tea. “Oh, this smells good,” Kayla remarked. It smells kind of fruity. What kind is it?” “It’s a berry tea,” replied Clara, setting the teapot on a potholder.

As the girls sat enjoying their tea and cake, they noticed Clara hadn’t touched any of hers. “Mom, try the cake. It’s good!” said Deucy. “I will a bit later,” Clara mumbled. “I had a big lunch.” “Well, at least drink your tea,” Deucy said, but Clara just sat there, motionless. She was certain they had poisoned her piece of cake.

13: Happy Birthday

The girls sat around talking while Clara got up from the table to clear the dishes. “Would you like some more tea?” she asked Deucy, with the spout hanging over her cup. “Uh, sure,” Deucy replied. Suddenly, Steph began to feel ill. She rubbed her hand across her forehead several times. “Oh, man, I dunno what just came over me. I’m sooo hot!” “You gettin’sick?” asked Lindsay.

“Yeah, it is a bit hot in here,” said Deucy. Maybe it was just the ‘power of suggestion,’ but Kayla began to tug at her shirt several times, trying to fan herself. “I’m a bit hot, too,” she replied. “What’s the thermostat set at, mom?” asked Deucy. “Let’s all go outside. It’s probably cooler in the garage. C’mon mom, I’m gonna give you your present now so the girls can see what I got ya.”

Terror rose up in Clara. This was it. This was the moment they were going to ambush and kill her!

Chapter 14: The Dreadful Assumption

By now, Lindsay was very ill. She was stumbling around with her hand on her forehead. “Ugh, I don’t feel so well. Sorry, but I think I’d better go.” Kayla began to wonder if it was the cake that had made them sick. They were all starting to feel nauseous now.

“C’mon, Deucy murmured to the girls. Let’s just get this over with. I’m startin’ to feel awful myself. “Let’s go mom. We wanna give you your present, and hurry cuz we’re all dyin’!” Deucy smirked.

“Well, okay,” Clara said. “After you.” She stood at the door to the garage, holding it open for the girls. Deucy tripped down the stairs, now holding her hand to her stomach. “Oh my gosh, I’m sick!” she cried. As soon as they were all in the garage, Clara slammed the door and locked it from the inside. She sat down at the kitchen table. As the moments passed, the girls began to yell and bang on the door. Sounds of gagging and vomiting could be heard above the screams.

Clara reached over and took a box from the pile on her table. The empty carton read:

“Taboo Teas” Nightshade Belladonna - imported from South Africa. For relief of colic and intestinal disorders.” A caution label was plastered on the side with writings in several different languages:

For medicinal use only. Seek the advice of a health practitioner prior to use.”

“Highly toxic. May cause convulsions or tremors in toxic doses. Using more than specified may result in death.

Clara noticed the screaming had stopped in the garage. It was completely silent. She rose slowly and opened the door. Four bodies lie in tight fetal positions. Some had gotten sick, some had fallen, hitting their heads and were bleeding as a result. Deucy was at the opposite end of the garage near a tall object covered in a bright blue tarp. It had a large, red ribbon and bow strung across the front. Clara stepped over Kayla and Steph to reach the tarp, her trembling hands touching the ribbon. Underneath lay a small, white envelope. She opened it to a card that said:

“Happy birthday, mom. I love you always,” - Medusa.

the end~

© Copyright 2023 mari' emeraude . All rights reserved.