Cupful of Ashes

1

Della stared at the cold gray dust that lay in the shadowed recess of the square cardboard container.  At first she thought the messenger was delivering Chinese, but she didn’t order Chinese, not today, not ever.  She squinted to see the faded red stamp on the side of the small, square white cardboard box - ‘Jenkins Crematory - Remains.’ Oh sweet Jesus, she thought, they’ve gone and put her in a Chinese take-out box!  2

Della peered inside from a respectable distance - it might be gray dust, but after all, it was still her mama.  She saw the meager contents lying silently inside the clear plastic pouch.  Della gently pulled the flaps backs more and peeled open the thin plastic pouch to look at the tiny quiet gray mound inside.   She stared at it—it looked like less than a cupful.  So little when her mama had been so much.3

This can’t be all of her!  What is going on here, she thought.  There’s got to be more than this little bit of nothin’.  Is this all I’m gonna’ get, she wondered?  Is this all I get of my precious mama?  This is my share, my portion of our mama?  Well, thanks a lot, Stella, she thought.  4

“Cardboard will look quite tacky on the mantle,” she whispered. 5

Her heart was pounding hard as memories of the funeral came flooding back, memories of all the crying, all the strangers filing past her acting like they were her best friends.  They were her mama’s friends, women she didn’t even know, but then again, she knew old women always did that.  But then there was her sister Stella, all dressed in black crepe, a big black broad-brimmed hat with a veil - God, who was she trying to fool?  People didn’t dress like that for funerals anymore, did they?  Black at funerals was out, she thought.  Especially when you really weren’t mourning anyone, and she knew Stella wasn’t really mourning.  6

Mama would have shook her head and made that funny clicking noise with her tongue if she could have seen Stella that day, so dramatic and all.   Of course, no one ever saw a tear leave Stella’s eyes that day, since that’s one thing she couldn’t conjure up whenever she wanted to – in fact, Della had never seen Stella cry over anything.  Stella was so phony, all dressed up in black with that veil.  But the veil could hide her lack of tears.  Della knew Stella couldn’t wait to get at all mama’s stuff.  She’s just plain shallow and greedy as hell, thought Della.  7

As for Della, she wore the dress her mama had liked best, the navy blue jersey with pink rosebuds.  Mama would have liked that and Della always liked to please her mama.  Della and her mama had found the dress in a catalog one Saturday afternoon many years ago, and mama ordered it for Della as a surprise for her birthday.  Whenever she wanted to feel close to her mama, she wore that dress, that sweet little dress her mama had given her.  Stella had always said it was way too young for Della, that she wasn’t a little girl and to start wearing grownup clothes for pity sake.  But Della liked to wear it anyway.8

So this little box of ashes—this was what Stella decided her sister should get—a cup of dust.  What a bitch.  Della studied the contents of the cardboard box cautiously.  This was supposed to be ashes, she thought, but it didn’t look like ashes at all.  There was no texture to speak of, not like the ashes that lay in the open pit of the fireplace.  Not the kind of ashes that would float in the air with a life of their own when she burned stacks of old newspapers in the barrel out back.  These ashes were so fine, so smooth, that they almost looked like liquid.  She wondered if the body had been burned once, then the ashes burned again to get to such a fine powder.  She put her hand over her nose and mouth so that her breathing would not disturb her mama’s ashes.  There was no smell, and she was grateful for that.  That old person smell, or dead body smell, or even the cancer smell, that would have to be what it smelled like, she figured, if it smelled at all.  Thank you Jesus, there was no smell.  9

Gray face powder -- gray face powder with flecks of white sprinkled in it.  Was the white stuff mama’s bones?  Was that what was left of mama’s bones?  Just a cup of vaporized skin and bones?   At the least, there should be some other colors, somethin’ that showed that what was reduced to ashes had once had at least some blush to it.  The ashes should be delicate beige -- or maybe a sprinkling of red -- no, that would be too much like blood -- a smidgen of purple, then, something to distinguish these ashes from gray face powder.  10

Yes, she preferred purple. Mama had always preferred purple.  The fact is, mama had always loved purple. Perhaps the ashes could be mixed with fine sand of various colors and layered in one of those clear bottles.  That would look very nice on Della’s mantle, she thought and she wouldn’t have to see the just color of death – she could feel some comfort if there were some of the colors of mama’s life there. That sure would piss Stella off.  I’ll keep thinkin’ on that, thought Della.11

All Della had ever wanted after mama died was mama’s ashes, and mama’s big ol’ magnifying glass that she used when she read the newspaper, plus the silver tea service that sat in the dining room on top of the buffet.  The tea set was a sign of affluence to mama, a sign of refinement, and since it seemed to be important to mama, Della wanted it.  Della felt that she deserved it.12

Stella got the tea service. As always, Stella got everything she wanted.  It was always Stella first.   As for the magnifying glass, Stella didn’t want that.  Stella threw it in the trash along with a lot of other precious memories the day after the funeral.  And for the final blow, Stella must have kept most of mama’s ashes.  Well, fine enough, then, Della thought.  ‘I absolutely hate her!’ Della shouted.  Too bad these aren’t Stella’s ashes, she thought.  I’d flush ‘em.13

Della remembered that she had a skinny purple vase, maybe it could pass for a small urn, she thought.  But could she just unceremoniously pour the ashes from the container to the vase?  Would some of her mama stay in the cardboard container?  Oh, Christ, how the hell would she transfer mama?  She folded the sides of the cardboard box carefully and placed it on the mantle.  No matter what she was in, it was mama, by God, and she was going on the mantle.  The box would do for the time being.14

Mama liked purple.  Mama loved purple.  She had purple napkins, purple salt and peppershakers, purple goblets, she had purple everywhere.  Mama always said purple was God’s favorite color. Della had asked Stella to have mama buried in a purple casket, but Stella said no.  Stella couldn’t figure out why they had to buy a casket at all.  Stella didn’t even want to bury mama, she was all for cremation and on with it.  So why buy a purple casket just to burn it up, Stella reasoned.  For cremation, there were rules and regulations, as she so haughtily explained to Della. 15

As usual, Stella got her way.  Mama was cremated in a simple pine box, the cheapest Stella could find.  16

“Well, at least we should splurge on the marker for mama’s grave, for pity’s sake!” Della had begged Stella.  17

Stella was the oldest of the two sisters, the biggest, the bossiest, the rudest, and the least likable.  Della called her ‘Godzilla’ when they were kids.  Out of Stella’s earshot, of course.  “Grave?  Why do we have to have a grave, for pity sake”, whined Stella.  “That’s just more money, and mama ain’t gonna know the difference, Della.  I suppose you want a statue of the Virgin Mary with her arms spread out plum over a half-acre, or maybe we should just buy mama one of those monstrosities that has an eternal flame burning in her memory.  For Christ’s sake, Della, mama doesn’t know the difference, so why do you care?  Do you have any idea how much those fancy markers cost?  They charge for every letter, every detail, and it adds up to a whole lot of money, money we don’t have to spend!”  Stella slung her arms wide, just like Della had done so many times when she used to tell mama, ‘I love you this much!’ 18

Stella wanted everything.  Stella had acted like a fool after mama died, slinging mama’s clothes all about, going through them to see what she could glean for herself.  She looked like a vulture, with blood dripping from her beak, thought Della.  But this cremation thing was the last straw.  Della was going to have to insist that she get more of mama.  19

Della was the only one to actually attend the cremation.  She had stayed with the box with her mother inside until the last minute, when they asked her to step into the waiting room.  Stella had refused to come to the cremation.  She didn’t think it was necessary, since, after all, she had been at the wake, hadn’t she?  The true Stella had emerged, just like it always did.  But Della felt that someone had to witness mama’s cremation, and she especially felt she should do it by herself.  Della had heard all the horror stories about how people were cremated in huge ovens, several at a time in the same little blazing hole, and that the ashes were actually ‘communal’ ashes, and she was determined to stand guard and make sure that didn’t happen to mama.  She only wanted the ashes of her mother, not anyone else.20

Now she sat down on the soft cushions of the overstuffed loveseat where the sun had warmed it for her.  She laid her head back and felt the warmth of the midday sun as she closed her eyes in exhaustion.  She dreamed then of mama, when mama was old, almost blind, at a time near the end of her life.  Her mama was making an apple pie, her specialty and Della’s favorite.  The kitchen was where mama felt most at home.  But her eyes had become so bad and her memory was beginning to fail her.  She had become a hazard in the kitchen.  Della was constantly following her around turning off burners and hiding the sharp knives.  In Della’s dream, mama had peeled the apples and cut them into wedges, and she spread them in the pie tin lined with her famous melt-in-your-mouth crust, a recipe she had tucked away in her failing mind.  It would have been a perfect pie if she had not sprinkled pepper on top of the apples instead of cinnamon.  It would have been a perfect pie, it looked perfect, and everyone ate some, but it tasted like shit.21

She woke up suddenly to the sound of the doorbell.  She groggily stumbled to the door and looked out the tiny peephole.  It was Stella.  Good, she thought, just the person she needed to talk to – just the person she wanted to shoot right now.  Just the person she wanted to get in a big fight with and try not to end up the loser – again.  But she had to talk to Stella, try to convince her to share mama, the little pile of ashes was just not enough for her and it wasn’t fair.  She opened the door and stepped aside to allow her sister to come in.22

“I’m glad you’re here, Stella.  I was wanting to talk with you,” Della said.23

“Why, Della, sweet, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!  You are just plain doughy, sister.  Oh, God, it’s just so hot outside, I could just die!  I don’t know why I bother to put on my face, it just slides right off in ten minutes!”  Stella clumsily plopped down on the sofa and flipped her shoes off.  She put her sweaty feet up on Della’s coffee table, crossing her legs at the ankles as she blotted at her face with a tissue.  24

“I’ve just got a few minutes, Della.  I have some papers you need to sign so I can sell mama’s house,” Stella said.  Stella grabbed the envelope from her purse and pulled the papers out quickly.  Della ignored what Stella had said for the moment.  She had other fish to fry and she was focused on mama and those ashes. 25

“I got a package today, Stella.”  Della’s voice was nervously calm.  She walked slowly over to the mantle and stood near where she had placed the cardboard box.26

“What could you possibly get, Della?  No one ever sends you anything.”  Stella’s giggled, her eyes closed as she sprawled on the couch while fanning herself with a magazine.  She had placed the stack of papers on the table and motioned for Della to sign them.  Della ignored her again.27

“It came from Jenkins’ place.  It’s mama’s ashes.  Or at least part of them.”  Della watched her sister as she slowly sat up and opened her eyes.  28

“Oh yes, I had forgotten about that.  I got mine several days ago.  They are just now getting yours delivered?”  Stella was smiling at her sister.  She knew Della was not pleased, and that was just fine with her.  Stella loved to upset Della, and it was so easy!29

“Stella, you are just plain evil,” Della said.  Della was staring at her sister in disbelief.  Stella was smiling that smile that was so familiar to Della.  It was the smile she used when she was at her bitchiest.  Stella flopped back on the couch with a huff.30

“Oh, God, Della.  You’re such a baby.  Mama’s little titty baby!  Why don’t you grow up, for Christ’s sake,” Stella mewed.  Stella was whining out her nose, making fun of Della.31

Della crossed the room to face her sister with the closed eyes.  “You let them put mama in a cardboard box that looks like Chinese food!  My mama.  Your mama.  You let them put her in a paper box, Stella.  A paper box.”  Della’s voice was still calm, but Stella heard the fury in the pauses between her words.  Was Della actually standing up for herself?  Stella knew she had to talk fast; she had to keep Della off balance.  She had to have that money, she had to sell that house, and she had to have Della’s signature to do it.32

“I didn’t do that, for Christ’s sake, Della, the men at Jenkins did that.  God, do you have to blame me for everything that happens in the whole world?  That old fart at Jenkins did that to mama, not me.”  Stella was getting irritated.  “You’ve been a big baby about this whole funeral and cremation thing.  Its always get this, don’t do that, get a purple coffin, what about a marker, you’re so selfish, Stella, what about me, Stella, where are all mama’s ashes, Stella, I want everything, Stella.  Gawd.”33

Stella was standing, waving her arms about, raising her voice as she walked toward Della.  “I guess if you wanted it done your way, you should have just done it all yourself.  But no, you were so sad, so torn up, weren’t you?  Crying all the time, whining about magnifying glasses, my God, Della, you are just too sentimental for your own good!”  Stella was near her now, and Della could smell the onions her sister must have had for lunch. 34

“Your breath stinks, Stella,” Della whispered.  35

“Oh, shut up, you little bitch!”  Stella backed away like Della was a coiled rattlesnake.  One for Della.36

Della felt a surge of power.  Keep it up, she thought, don’t lose your momentum.  You might just win, she thought.37

“I’ve had it with you, Stella.  All my life you treated me like shit, but believe it or not, I think I’ve grown up, Stella.  When mama died, something died inside of me.  Maybe it was my childhood, my innocence, my naivety.  I’ve grown up Stella, and I don’t want to take your shit no more.  And now that mama’s gone, I don’t even have to be nice to you.  I don’t like you, I never did, you know.  I never told you that.  I always bit my tongue for mama’s sake.”  Della’s voice took on a new pitch, a higher one that Stella had not heard before.  Stella watched Della in silence, trying to formulate her next move.38

“In fact, I can tell you now that this thing with the ashes is just about the worst thing you have ever done to me.  And I know you think I won’t do anything about it, don’t you?  You think I’ll just lie down and take it like everything else.  Well, don’t you?”  Della said.39

Stella couldn’t let up now.  She wanted to go in for the kill.  She loved to do that to her spineless sister. 40

“What is your problem?  Gawd, Della.  Look at you!  You’re actually acting like you’ve got some balls!  And we both know that’s not happenin’!  Who do you think you are, anyway?  You and me are the same two people we always were, and don’t you ever forget it.  You are now, and always will be, the same gutless wonder you were when we were kids.  The only thing I can say about this discussion today is that I can now add ‘thankless bitch’ to my long list of pet names I have for you.”  Stella was quickly gathering up her shoes and her purse, trying to make a quick exit out the front door. She wasn’t sure what Della was up to, but she knew she didn’t like it.  41

Della knew Stella was getting nervous.  Stella was sweating.  “Don’t even think about leaving, Stella.”  42

Della crossed the room quickly and stood in front of Stella.  “Get out of my way, you whining cow!   Be happy with what I gave you, it’s more than you deserve.  You were always a big suck up, always kissing mama’s ass.  I’m sick of you, I hate you, let me out of here now, do you hear me?”  She began to work her way toward the door once again.  She wanted to leave now more than ever.43

“Sit your big ass down, you’re not leaving.  Not just yet.  Sit down and listen to me because it is the last time I’ll ever talk to you.”  Della pointed to the couch.44

Stella didn’t want to get in a struggle with her sister, she was too hot and tired, and she wasn’t so sure she would win this one.  “Well, I’ll listen just so I don’t have to hear your voice ever again, not because you ‘threatened’ me.  Gawd!”  Stella moved back to the couch and sat down, never taking her eyes off Della.45

Della began to pace slowly back and forth, her arms folded under her breasts, her jaws locked, trying to control her anger.  “Stella, I want more of mama.  I don’t want just a cupful of her ashes, I want more,” Della said as she stopped in front of Stella.  “I mean it, Stella.  Just look at mama, up there in a Chinese cardboard box!  This is too much, and I won’t take it, not from you, not anymore.  I want more of mama and I want it now.”46

Stella’s eyes had widened in disbelief.  “You aren’t serious, are you?  I don’t know who you think you are, Miss Prissypants.  You don’t deserve any more of mama than you got, you hear?  That’s all you’re gonna’ get, so there!  You kissed mama’s ass for years for nothin, you hear? For nothin, you get nothin because you are nothin,”  Stella yelled. Stella crossed her arms and raised her chin, hoping she had carried off her bluff.  47

Della studied Stella’s face.  It was quite scrawny.  Her pointed little nose jutted out from her face like the beak of some squawking bird.  Della began to pace again.  She made several passes in front of Stella before either one of them spoke.48

Stella decided she had won, as always.  She knew what a simp Della was, she really couldn’t carry through with anything, never could her entire life.  “Okay, Della.  That’s enough.  Sign the papers so I can get out of here, please!  Lets get on with it. This conversation is going nowhere, so come on, sign.”  Stella pulled a pen from her purse and laid it on top of the stack of papers.49

“I’m not signing anything, do you hear me?  Nothing, ever, ever.  In fact, I have decided that we shouldn’t sell mama’s house right now.  And there isn’t anything you can do about it either.  I wasn’t even consulted, and it’s half mine, you know.  What if I wanted to live in that house, now, how would that grab you, huh, Miss Bossyboots?”  Della’s heart was pounding hard again, but it felt good.  It had taken her fifty years to stand up to the old biddy.  She couldn’t back down now no matter what.  And all she really wanted was  more of mama.  Della had to have more of her mama, and she would do anything to get it.  50

Stella stood up fast.  She stormed across the room to where Della stood.  Her face was beet red with anger.  “What?  Do you mean to tell me you won’t sign those papers?”  Stella shouted.51

“That’s right.  I’m not signing anything for you,” Della said.  She was winning, she could tell by the look on Stella’s face.  Money meant more to Stella than anything, and Della had cut to the bone with this one.  By not signing the papers, Stella would lose out on a great deal of money.  A little bribery could make her turn lose of the rest of her mama.52

“Now you listen to me, Della.  I’ve had enough of this shit!  You sign these papers right now or you’ll be sorry!” Stella said.    Stella  picked up the papers and pen and shoved them at Della.53

“Are you threatening me, Stella?  What could you possibly threaten me with?  You have everything, or just about, except for mama’s house, and you want that too.  You even got most of mama.  And I want my mama back, and I mean that, Stella.”  Della was speaking to her sister, but she knew her sister wasn’t listening.  If Della wouldn’t sign the papers, Stella was going to have to figure out another way to get the house for herself, and Della knew it.54

“Well, maybe I’ll just take this little Chinese box you are so ashamed of and keep it for myself.  I’ll just add these ashes to mine.  How would you like that, sister dear?  And, well, you didn’t actually ask, but old man Jenkins said that only one urn came with each cremation, and it was included in the price, so I took it, so there.  You don’t have enough room on this tiny little mantle for that big urn, anyway.”  55

Stella darted to the mantle and grabbed the white cardboard box.  She held it closely to her chest and looked at Della.  “You are one ungrateful bitch, Della.”56

Della didn’t hear her sister’s words.  All she saw was that Stella had the box that held her mama’s ashes.  Stella was threatening to take that little bit of her mama, threatening to deliver yet another blow, one that Della couldn’t take now, not ever again.57

“No more, Stella, no more.  You’ve gone too far.  Put mama down.  Put her down now!”  Della’s voice was soft, but strained as she gritted her teeth.  Della reached for Stella’s shoulders and began to shake her sister violently.  58

Stella began to laugh out loud, a taunting laugh that Della had heard many times before.  “Get your hands off me, you whining little pussy.  You never could hurt me, remember?  You always were the weak one, the one that had to run to mama and whine and cry and beg her to help you.  ‘Mama, Stella’s hurting me,’ ‘Mama, make Stella stop it,’ on and on, blah, blah, blah.  Whine, whine, whine!”  Stella threw the cardboard box down and watched the look in Della’s eyes.  The box broke open on the fireplace hearth, producing a fine cloud of gray dust.  59

Stella slapped the sides of her face in mock surprise.  “Oh my goodness!  Look what happened to mama!”  Stella watched as Della’s mouth fell open.  Stella felt like a triumphant warrior returning from battle.  She looked proud, her smile was her victory smile.  She straightened her blouse and patted at the sides of her hair, ever the conqueror,  as Della got down on her knees.60

“I hate you Stella.  You should never have done that to mama.”  Della was shaking, as she carefully pushed the ashes into a small pile.  She began to look around the room to find something to put mama in since the box was in shambles now.  She saw the large crystal ashtray on the table beside the couch.  “This will have to do I guess.”  She picked up the ashtray and looked at Stella, watching her primp, wondering why Stella wasn’t scared anymore.  She should be, Della thought. Della was madder now than ever.  Della had never been this mad in her life.61

Della raised the ashtray high above her head.  With all her strength, she brought the heavy ashtray down on the back of Stella’s head.  Stella made no sound, but fell heavily to the floor.  “Oh my, did we get a big surprise, Stella, my oh my, sounded just like thumping a watermelon, Stella.   Oh, you must have mush for brains, dear!”  Della bent down slowly and looked closely at Stella’s face.  Her eyes were closed, but there was a dark pool of blood forming underneath Stella’s tidy bouffant hair sprayed hair.  62

“Are you awake, darlin’?  She nudged her sister with her foot.  There was no response.  “Looks like I can hurt you after all, huh?  Now, why don’t you just go get the rest of mama for me?”  Della said.  “Oh, my, looks like you can’t get up, can you?  Well, I’ll just go over to your house and get that lil’ ol’ urn, and from the looks of you, dear, I guess you won’t be stoppin’ me this time.  You just never know when people have had enough, do you,” sighed Della.63

Della made a mental note to herself to remember to get that silver tea service while she was at it.  She had always wanted that.  And Stella, well, nobody will miss her, Della said to herself.  I’ll give her a ceremony in that ol’ barrel out back.  I think that’s fair, she thought.64

Della walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of cold milk.  She reached into the cookie jar and pulled out two oatmeal raisin cookies.  “I just love ice cold milk and cookies,” she said.  “Things are gonna be just fine, mama, just fine, I’ll fix you up just fine.”65

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