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Baglady

by Ursula Perrefort

193 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #03-1643; ISBN 1-4120-1265-1; US$19.50, C$22.00, EUR16.00, £11.50

When Hetti's beloved husband dies, she finds herself destitute, depressed and homeless. She struggles to survive by collecting empty cans and eventually ends up in a mental ward.


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about the book      about the author      sample excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book

Hetti Crane has been a good woman all her life; good wife, a good mother, a good homemaker. It has always been enough...until now.

At age fifty-eight she finds herself a widow without any income or savings. Not able to pay the rent, she loses her home too.

Hetti falls into a deep depression. She has only one wish; to die. But life demands to be lived.

This is the story of her struggle to overcome hopelessness, homelessness, and, finally, confinement to a mental ward.


About the Author

Ursula Perrefort was born in 1941 in Germany. She immigrated to the United States in 1965 and lives with her husband in Bethel, Conneticult where she has practiced as Psychotherapist. She is the mother of three sons and a grandmother of two grandchildren. This is her first novel.


Book Review

"Baglady", the first novel written by Ursula Perrefort, holds the reader captive by her heart-felt story of Hetti Crane, a middle aged woman who has lost everything in her world that matters to her. Ursula has the ability to empower the reader to become one with Hetti; to be swept up in her emotions as she tries to regain control of her life.

A brief glance into Hetti's past reveals that she was born in Germany and after the death of her father; her mother brought the young woman to America to settle in Connecticut. Ursula was also born in Germany and migrated to United States at a young age, thus giving her account of Hetti's life the credence of realism. Ursula lives in Bethel, Connecticut with her husband; she is the mother of three sons and grandmother of two. She still found time to practice psychotherapy, which gave her the inspiration and insight to create the character for this novel.

The story unfolds the desperate battle that Hetti wages to deal with the emotional and financial turmoil she has been thrown into over a span of several months. After the death of her husband Frank, Hetti finds that she is penniless and has no means of income. The rent is past due on her home thus adding to her state of despair and confusion. Frank always looked after his wife and the settling of accounts, now Hetti has to try and cope with this side of life.

Hetti's daughter Judy finds her mother in a desperate state and decides that Hetti should move in with her husband Joe, teenaged son Andy and herself. Now this is where the story really starts to come alive. Joe is not the most caring man on earth and Hetti is reluctant to make the move fearing a negative outcome in this matter. Things are quickly taken out of Hetti's hands leaving her with only one choice. At first all she really wanted was to join Frank in the after-life but then the survival instinct took hold of her and Hetti was put to the test of daily living without a home or income.

Through a series of unlikely turns of events Hetti is befriended by several women which sets her on a totally different path in life; one which shows she has the resilience that is needed to survive. Although difficult for her at first she soon manages to obtain the knowledge needed to eke out an existence, then came the courage and grace of her former self.

True to life nothing stays the same and we find our heroine once again in another situation that is out of her control. Unfortunately I cannot go into this at this time as I would give away the ending of this wonderfully sensitive story.

Ursula has taken the concerns and fears of many men and women with modest incomes and relatively no savings, as to what will happen to them if something happens to their life long mate. The empathy we feel for Hetti is our own fears coming to light. What Ursula so nicely points out in this emotional story is "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger." We all have the courage and resilience that is needed to overcome trying times in our lives, even if it is only made apparent to us under dire circumstances.

"Baglady" is a tremendous account of loss, friendship and love that will leave you with a feeling of fulfillment and joy. This is a must read for anyone who has any concerns about their future and their ability to carry on, or simply if you just want a story to leave you with a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. I do sincerely hope the Ursula continues with her writing career, if not the literary world will suffer a great loss.

Linear Reflections - The Review Site
www.linearreflections.com


Sample Excerpts

Hetti watched the spider crawl towards her, over the bed quilt, then slowly up her arm, onto the pillow, and out of her sight. She felt nothing. Her body felt as dead as her emotions. A sharp ringing penetrated the dullness of her mind.

Slowly she turned her head towards the phone but she could not master the strength to lift the receiver. Her arms were like lead. Her own voice on the answering machine seemed foreign, possessing an energy she could no longer feel.

"Mother, I am coming over. I should be there in about two hours," her daughter's firm, no-nonsense voice said, then the line went dead.

"Go away," Hetti thought, "leave me be. I want to be left alone." She closed her eyes, retreating back into the deep black pit where she was safe, invisible to the outside world.

She had been isolated there for days in her mind, not wanting to climb up to where the sun was shining too bright; where life was happening. She dozed in and out of an uneasy sleep. In a dream she walked into a swamp. Her feet were pulled down into the brown mud, deeper and deeper. A voice was calling her, over and over,

"Mother, Mother!"

She opened her eyes. Her daughter Judy was leaning over her.

"Mother, are you alright?"

Hetti nodded, "I am fine."

"My God, Mother, what is going on? This place smells disgusting." She yanked the drapes open and pushed the window up. Bright light assaulted Hetti's eyes. Judy picked up a glass of milk from the nightstand and smelled it. Her face showed disgust.

"This is sour; how long have you been lying in bed?"

"I don't know." Hetti wished her daughter would just leave.

"Mother, Mr. Jones stopped me in the hallway. He says you haven't paid the rent for two months."

"I guess so," Hetti mumbled.

"What do you mean, you guess so? Why haven't you paid the rent?"

"Dad always paid the rent."

"Mother, Dad died three months ago."

Hetti's eyes filled with tears.

"Where is your checkbook?" Judy asked.

"In the desk in the dining room."

Judy rummaged through the desk and finally found what she was looking for. She checked the balance.

"There are only thirty-five dollars and twenty cents in your account?" The question sounded like an accusation.

"What about your savings account?" she asked.

"Judy, I emptied the savings account. I had to pay the funeral home six thousand dollars. I still owe them eight hundred dollars."

"What about your Social Security checks?"

Hetti shook her head. "I am not getting Social Security until I am sixty."

"But Mother, you must have some money somewhere. Are you telling me, that you have no money saved and that you have no money coming in?"

Hetti could not bear to see the fear in her daughter's face. She turned her head; tears stung her eyes.

There was a long silence. Finally Judy asked, "but what are you going to do? How are you going to live?"

"I don't know." Hetti's voice was barely a whisper.

Judy jumped up. She started to pace back and forth. How could he do this to her, she thought. How could he just die and leave her mother destitute. A sour taste rose from her stomach to her mouth. "Look, Mother, I am going to make some tea. Why don't you take a shower?"

Sluggishly Hetti dragged her body into the bathroom. The hot water felt soothing on her face, on her arms, on her body. Frank had always loved his morning shower. They had joked about his skin shriveling up because he took such long showers.

Judy slammed the teakettle onto the burner. "Damn him, why did he die? Why had he not given up smoking?" The doctor had told him how dangerous it was for him to continue smoking. She hugged her body with her arms. Tears blurred her vision. It hurt so much. God, how it hurt! He had been too young to die, only sixty-three years old. There had been no warning. She hadn't even been able to say good-bye to him. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. He had been looking forward to his retirement, to playing golf; taking walks on the beach. He had talked about re-reading his favorite books. When she was little, he had read to her every evening. After she had her bath she would sit with him in the big armchair, and together they would enter the magic world of fairy tales. He had always smelled a little like tobacco and Old Spice. How she had loved that semell! A sob that came from deep within escaped her. She covered her mouth with her hand.

Hetti had quietly entered the kitchen. She put an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "I know," she said, "I know."

During her drive home, Judy came to the only solution she could think of. Mother had to move in with them! There was no other choice. But, how could she present this to her Joe? Her husband would not like it. Judy visualized the scene that was sure to take place. She bit her lip.

Joe came home in an unusually pleasant mood. Judy had made meatloaf, his favorite. Andy, their fifteen-year-old son was already seated at the dinner table. Dinnertime was often a time of battle between him and his Dad. But Dad seemed to be okay today, much to Andy's relief.

Joe looked at Judy. "So, how did you do at your mother's today? How is the old broad doing?" he asked.

Judy busied herself with the plates and avoided looking at Joe. "She is not doing well at all, I am very worried about her," she said.

"What do you mean?" Her husband frowned." She did really well after your father's death. I mean, she was very calm at the funeral, and she even made all the arrangements and all that."

"Joe, she seems to be very depressed. I think, it has really hit her now. She looked absolutely terrible. It looked like she had not been out of bed for days. She is just not herself. You know how neat and clean she usually is. The apartment was a total mess. There was mildewed food in the refrigerator, and she was unwashed. I even had to tell her to take a shower. I am really worried about her."

"Oh, just give her some time. She'll snap out of it," Joe said.

Judy cleared her throat, "Joe, there is something else. She is broke. The landlord told me, that she hasn't paid the rent for two months. She has no savings and no money coming in. And she will not get any Widow's Benefits until she is sixty years old. So she has no means of support for two years."

Her husband's good mood had disappeared. "Well, what do you want me to do about it? I am certainly not going to pay her rent."

"Of course not." Judy took a deep breath. "I thought it would be best if she moved in with us for the next two years."

"Are you nuts?" Joe slammed his fork on the table. "You must be out of your goddamn mind. Don't I work hard enough for this family? And now I am supposed to support your mother too?"

"I am working too," Judy said.

"Hah, don't make me laugh. You barely make enough for your clothes and your cosmetics. Your mother is a healthy woman. Let her get off her butt and get a job."

"You know that Mom has never worked outside the house. Dad always took care of everything. She is totally depressed. You should have seen her. She just can't manage right now." Judy pleaded.

"There is no room in this apartment. We are cramped as it is. No way can we squeeze another person in here. So, just get it out of your head." Joe's voice had become louder and louder.

Andy, his face flushed, looked at his father. "Grandma could have my room. I don't mind sleeping on the couch," he said in a timid voice. "Sure, Mr. Bigshot! Who asked you? Coming home with two C's on your report card, but making decisions for this family. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Why don't you leave him alone, he is only trying to help," Judy said angrily.

"Of course, you always have to protect him. You are making a damn Mamma's boy out of him. Go to your room" he yelled at his son.

Judy felt herself go white with anger."I am going to pick my mother up tomorrow," she said.

"Sure, you always do what you want to do anyway, no matter what I say. I am only good for bringing home the dough." Joe jumped up. He took his car keys and baseball cap.

"Where are you going?"

"What do you care? Go to hell," he yelled and slammed the door behind him.

Judy looked at the half-eaten food on her son's and husband's plate. She felt tired, so tired.


Catalogue Information




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