Lorem Ipsum: The Aloysius Angelasia Archives (Chapter 38m)

"You're NOT my mom."

I felt it best to get right to the point.

"Oh sweetie," my not-mom said in response.  "You're just so tired ... and flustered ... and confused.  Once you get to New Orleans and get to meet your father, I *know* you'll get some clarity."

As near as I could tell, "she" hesitated because "she" too could see "herself" in the shattered mirror shards, and "she" knew that "her" reflection was spilling "her" secret.

"Hang in there, honey."

Papa Kalfu had to know that I knew that he was in my head masquerading as my mom in order to confirm my travel plans, because the voice changed first, suddenly dropping an octave or two.

It was unsettling to hear *his* voice coming out of the lips of the apparition of my dead mother that was in front of me.

"And I'll see you soon, because I will hunt you down and I will find you wherever you go.  You won't be able to get away from me until I get what I want from you."

At that moment, I was startled by the simultaneous flushing of not one ... or two ... but *three* public toilets.  Three stall doors creaked open and the bodies of Stanley, Rodney and Albert slowly emerged, shuffling toward me.

It turned out that those were the names by which they were known when they were alive.  But seeing as how they had all died the night I first came face to face with Papa Kalfu, it was now clear to me that he was the one that had stolen the bodies and that he had somehow managed to bring them all back to life with his black magic.

They moved toward us, with their injuries still intact -- Stanley was missing one eye, Rodney a part of an ear and Albert had no tongue.  He also had apparently renamed them.

"Meet my little monkeys -- Miz, Kiki and Iwa.  They now have one mission -- to help me find you.."

Lorem Ipsum: The Aloysius Angelasia Archives (Chapter 38l)

"Focused.  Of course.  All day, every day.  You know it."

I smiled back at my dead mom whom I had made materialize in what was now obviously to me one of those bizarre trips my mind took every now and then when I had fallen asleep or otherwise zoned out.

"Did you see anyone else back there?" I asked her, motioning to the area of the stalls.

"No," she answered.  "Just me and you.  Right here.  Right now.  For as long as you need me to be to get you back on track."

I did my best to let her know that I was okay.  Or, okay enough, all things considered.  I mean I *was* standing in a highway rest stop in front of a shattered mirror having conversations with figments of my imagination after all.

"I'm fine.  Just a momentary lapse, that's all."

She looked closely at me, clearly concerned.

"Are you sure?  You're still on your way to New Orleans to try to find your father?'"

Off in the distance -- outside in the parking lot -- I heard Gator start barking.  Then the lights above me flickered, just enough to make me look up at them briefly.

In doing so, I noticed that my mother had stepped close enough to me to be seen in the broken mirror.

Except, despite what I clearly saw in front of me, it wasn't her reflection that was there in the mirror shards.

I knew a Papa Kalfu when I saw one.

"She" wasn't concerned.  "He" was still tracking me.

Lorem Ipsum: The Aloysius Angelasia Archives (Chapter 38k)

"You know, we have to stop hanging out in highway rest stop bathrooms.  People are gonna talk."

Mario was getting too preachy.  I wanted to lighten the mood.

"You idiot.  I'm not here in the bathroom with you ... I'm *here*."  

As additional emphasis, he slapped his hand against MY forehead to punctuate that last word.  Despite the skin to skin contact, there was no sudden spark or transfer of painful memories.  Instead, I watched him turn and walk right through the shattered mirror, disappearing from my sight.

Timed perfectly with his departure, I heard another commode flush.

I couldn't help it.  This latest impromptu trip through my subconscious was tickling my funny bone.

"What is this?  I'm being visited by the three ghosts of bathroom stalls past, present and future?" I muttered to myself.

Straight out of the strangest Dickens' story ever imagined, my dead mother whom I had never met was the next to appear post-flush.

"Hi," I said hesitantly.

"Oh sweetheart," she said in reply.  "You struggling?"

"I don't know.  I just came into here to pee.  And then ..."

I was indeed struggling when it came to trying to find the right words.

"... all ... *this*!"

She smiled sweetly.

"You'll get through it.  But you do need to stay focused.  Some of your biggest trials are still to come ..."

Lorem Ipsum: The Aloysius Angelasia Archives (Chapter 38j)

I don't know how long I had been standing there staring at my reflection in the shattered mirror of the bathroom in the rest stop on the way out of Florida, but I do know for sure that I stared each version of me down in hopes that one of the "me"s in the mirror would speak back and give me guidance to get me out of the shattered state I was also feeling on the inside.

None of the reflections did anything other than return my gaze with the same damaged, albeit determined, look.

I thought I was alone -- both Mattie and Gator were outside in the car in the parking lot that had been empty when we had pulled in.

From back beyond the urinals, I heard the distinctive flush of the commode.  A door opened up and out walked a familiar face.

"What's your problem, kid?  Do you think you're the only one who didn't get a happy ending?"

Mario was all tensed muscles and deliberate motion as he approached me.

"I'm on the run ... just like you ... except only I've got a sister who is trying not to die while we up and relocate."

I couldn't believe that we had both ended up at the exact same rest stop at the exact same time as we fled Papa Kalfu.  For that matter, I couldn't believe that he hadn't reacted to the sound of the mirror when it shattered into pieces when I had touched it.

I stayed silent while he continued his lecturing.

"You know -- the best laid plans and all that shit.  They went astray.  We went astray.  But that's not the end of the story."

I was hearing his version of a motivational speech, and it was working, for the most part, considering the source.

"We go on.  We survive.  It's what we do -- it's what YOU do.  Stop wallowing ... and start surviving."