My Evil Mother

by Margaret Atwood

My mother was an anomaly: no visible husband, no job exactly, though she did seem to have a means of support.

My mother had a thing for blue in tableware; she said it warded off any evil eyes intent on ruining the food.

Single strand of pearls, wild, not cultured. (Worth it, she said: only the wild ones had souls.)

“Who says you need eyes for seeing?” To which I had no answer.

“Don’t you care what they say about you?” “Why would I care about the tittle-tattle of the uninformed? Ignorant gossip.”

“Why don’t you like Brian?” “I have no objection to him as such. But the Universe doesn’t like him,” she said serenely. “She must have her reasons. Would you like a cookie, my pet?” “The Universe isn’t a person!” I fumed. “It’s an it!” This had come up before.

Tf

“The opposite of ‘mean’ is ‘doormat,’” she said.

“But the Universe doesn’t care who we like. He was dealt the Tower. You know what that means: catastrophe!”

Ohh

“Not this time,” said my mother. “It’s too strong. The Tower plus the Moon and the Ten of Swords. It’s very clear.” “Maybe you could mess up his car,” I said.

I felt a chill. I certainly didn’t want any pointing going on; pointing was how you directed a spell.

There was no sense in going head-to-head with my mother. Nor could I try sneaking around behind her back: she had eyes in the back of her head, and little birds told her things.

“Why did you break up?” I asked him. “Well, as I told you, she basically kicked me out.” “No, but really. Did you want to go?” He looked down at the table. “It’s hard living with someone who’s always right. Even when it turned out that she was. It can be . . . alarming.”

Then, when he was exhausted, she stole his penis.” “What?” Penis theft was something new: that piece of lore hadn’t come up when I was in high school. “She must have been annoyed that it no longer worked. One morning he looked down and it was gone.

She was keeping it in a cedar box with some other penises she’d stolen; she was feeding them on grains of wheat. That’s the usual method of tending penises.” I took firm control of myself. “Why was she doing that?” I asked cautiously. “Collecting penises?” “Some people collect stamps, she collected penises.

I told him to complain to the authorities, so he did, and she was forced to give the penis back.” “And reattach it, I suppose.” “Naturally,

“You were such a sensitive child. So easily wounded. So I told you those things. I didn’t want you to feel defenseless in the face of life. Life can be harsh. I wanted you to feel protected, and to know that there was a greater power watching over you. That the Universe was taking a personal interest.”

The protector was her, the greater power was her, the Universe that took an interest was her as well; always her. “I love you,” I said.

And did you feel protected?” “Yes,” I said. “I did.” This was somewhat true. “It was very sweet of you to invent all that for me.” She looked at me sideways out of her green eyes. “Invent?” she said.

She’s thrilled. Who of her age would not be?