Thank you.. your short story gives me some hope. It means i am not the only one who think how her own mother should push a girl to suffer and maybe dead. puhing her and anjoying the show iI hope.. Else what other mean it could be.“Go on with describing your fantasy,” my mother says.
“After both wrists have been nailed I offer up my feet for nailing.”
“What precisely do you do?”
“I place my right foot twisted slightly inwards, with the heel flush against the stipes. Then I place my left foot over the right foot. My executioner adjusts the position so that a single nail will pass through both feet between the space just inward of the big toe and next toe.
“Then I feel him position the nail at just the right spot. It must go through the space between the bones inward of my big toe and second toe on both feet without actually breaking a bone.”
“It is difficult for him to do that if you are struggling,” my mother says. “You need to lie still otherwise it will be a botched job.”
“I know. I am afraid I will not be able to do it.”
“Go on. What happens next?”
“He hammers the nail through both feet but not into the wood.”
“He pulls my feet down a few inches so that my knees are just slightly bent. Now the heel bone of my right foot is hard against the stipes and my feet are at a 45 degree angle to the horizontal. Then he hammers the nail into the wood. I am now fastened to my cross.”
“So far you have described what will happen to you very precisely,” my mother says. “What happens next?”
“My cross is lifted and allowed to fall into a hole with a thunk. I am now hanging on my cross. My feet are about a foot off the ground. My arms are stretched taught at an angle of 30 degrees from the horizontal. My feet rest on the nail that passes through both of them, I feel pressure on the heel bone of my right foot pressed hard against the stipes. I feel what Jesus felt.”
“Do you embrace your agony? Do you feel Jesus inside you?”
“I don’t know.”
“And you can’t know until you are hanging.”
Again, we look into each others’ eyes.
“You are very nearly right my darling. Just one detail. Before you lie on your cross a circle of barbed with will be placed around your head. It will be your crown of thorns.”
I understand how strange this must sound to any reader. Here is my mother, who loves me dearly, and who I love more than anyone else alive, calmly discussing with me the details of my forthcoming crucifixion. Everything is in the future simple tense. It is understood between us that this is not a hypothetical. It will happen. I really am going to be nailed to a cross. I really shall hang from a cross suffering the agony of Jesus.
Only, will I exult in that agony. Will I embrace that agony? Will the agony be my ecstasy? Will I feel Jesus in me as I hang on my cross?
Or will I just die a terrible death “to no avail” as my mother put it.
My mother, the rock of my life so far, offers me no assurances. It is a chance I have to take. And we both know that is what I shall do. I shall accept my crown of thorns, lie down naked on my cross and see what happens.