b'Amelia Rivers18TuesdayThere wasnt supposed to be traffic on Tuesday mornings. Still, Lucy sat in the middle of a six-lane interstate trapped in a rainstorm. Her mama was going to miss her cataract appoint-ment. Lucy knew she would have to wrangle her into rescheduling. Mama was fast asleep in the passenger seat. Her snores rumbled louder than the lightning above and the stagnant car engines below. Lucy didnt want to honk the horn. She was content to sit for a while in the peaceful, rare silence. Mama had, what Lucy liked to call, a Terra-complex. Like Scarlett OHara herself, Mama was always happy wherever she wasnt. Lucy, we at least had seasons in Maryland. Lucy, I dont know why I sold my house. Lucy, why did you have to stick me in the old peoples condo? Lucy, why did we take the interstate? I always took the backroads when I could see. Lucy, Lucy, Lucy everything was better in Terra. Thank God, Lucy only had to suffer a silent treatment instead of a leading-lady meltdown. Mama fell asleep to dream of the better dayswhich was every day except the present or future. Lucy turned to look at her. Mamas tense, ever-complaining mouth was unusually relaxed. Her eyeshadow across her resting lids looked as if a toddler scribbled with magic marker. Her blush was harsha jagged peak upon her usually turned cheek. If she werent blind as a bat, Mama would have berated Lucy for not putting enough rouge on her invisible lips. A lady must always look her best when visiting a doctor.Lucys eyes drifted from her mama to the road. Traffic had not moved, of course. The fog wrapped the cars in a blanket of blue drowsiness. The break-lights blinked through the haze like miniature lighthouses. Lucy watched the raindrops slip across her windshield. She imagined them as tiny, Olympic skiers. Each drop raced down the slope, splattered to death by the hard-toothed windshield wipers. There should be no traffic on a Tuesday. What luck. Lucy was stuck. Stuck as | 46 |'