I
+1+
Tomas
I lean a little more on the gas keeping a carefully eye out as the exits fly by. It’s a good time of day with little traffic and I have been able to cruise for hours. I almost don’t want to get off.
The radio station jumps from Christian rock and country before I decide to turn it off.
Shit
Looking in the review mirror I had missed my exit, I needed to fucking concentrate.
I pull off the interstate quickly and turn around.
Exit 17B is, for the first few feet, just a dusty road only with one building in the distance. I speed up, the tires kicking the dirt in a cloud behind me. Once again I drive past what I am supposed to be looking for.
I press on the breaks hard sending my body forward a little then looking behind me I put the car in reverse.
I break hard again.
She has two suitcases and an old college-trunk that she is sitting on top of, dressed in a high neck black shirt and crisp white capris with large black shades. Her shoes have been kicked off and set to the side.
Pushing all thoughts and judgement from my mind,I step out of the car before she can even stand up.
She gets in the passenger side while I put her bags into the trunk. I take my time getting back in, slamming the door shut before starting the engine.
She slides off her shades revealing her dark, lined eyes and looks over at me and with a sigh says.
“Get me out of here.”
+++
“So. . .” I start but can’t finish.
Sofia doesn’t look up from changing the radio or acknowledge that she heard me. It had been 12 minutes of utter silence.
“So what?”
She knew exactly what the fuck “what” was; I hated how angry it was making me. I girt my teeth and play along.
“Why this? Why do you want to come back?”
She looks out the window as we blow by another exit.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“
“But-“, she notices the coffee cups and cooler in the back seat, “You drove here?”
“Yes. Nine hours straight. . . now tell me.”
She settles back into her seat, turning the radio down.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
II
-2-
There is a gas station-general store, properly called 17B General, located in what appears to be just another isolated southern rural road just off exit 17B.
The17B General is owned by an elderly married couple and they may get at the most 5 or 6 cars on good day. On any given day however the picnic area out front can be filled with young men and women looking to spend a day away from classes at the nearby college.
I watched carefully as the taxi rounded the corner of the
gas station and a little farther down the road was a large cobblestone
semi-wall with the words “Carolina Baptist” placed along it in silver letters.
Every few seconds a fountain behind the words would put on a little water show.
“Were to now, miss?” the taxi driver looked to me for directions around the campus.
I didn’t know exactly where I was going. 24 hours ago I had
been in
I took the campus map out of my purse and leaned over the seat to show it to him.
“Just drive over here and you can let me out there.”, I told the cab driver.
The driver navigates his way through campus easily. Even
though it was the start summer there were students everywhere. Everyone
certainly looked friendly or maybe I had been in
The car finally pulled up to a little cul de sac surrounded with mini apartment complexes. The parking lot had a few cars, most of them covered in CBC logos and paraphernalia.
I paid the driver and he helped me take my stuff out of the car, I pretended to know where I was going until I saw his car turn the corner.
I had been given address and decided that was a good place to start even if I didn’t have a key. Each of the buildings had a letter on them I found my way to building D. Apartment 5, just like my admissions packet has said.
There were balloons on the front door.
I knocked.
I didn’t realize how ridiculous it was till after I had done it. I left the bags I had been able to carry on the doorstep and taking my map I attempted to find the housing office. It didn’t look to far away on the map.
Maybe they could tell me where to get a key.
“Excuse me”, I head someone calling to me before I could leave.
A woman with a clipboard and key chain around her neck was calling me over. She had a tentative smile on her face which was framed by her long dark hair.
“Are you my new student?” she asked
“Yes, I’m a little lost”
“No, you’re fine. I’m Denise Glass. I’m an advisor here. Let’s get you inside.”
I followed her back to the apartment building, she took the key chain from around her neck and opened the door and handed it to me.
I’m sure the little apartment was a simple on its own. White walls dark wood cabinets and furniture, but most of the living room and kitchen were covered with tacky little nick knacks, posters and books.
“I’m sorry, does someone else live here?”, I asked
Denise nodded her head and took a seat at the kitchen table writing on her clipboard.
I never questioned how at home she always made herself.
“Yes, there are two rooms upstairs. Dr. Amhearst, Senior helped pay for this complex, you know”, she was looking at a copy of my application; “have a seat.”
I pulled out one of the chairs and she clicked her pen open.
“Alrighty, Sofia. Now we don’t have a lot of rules for our alternative students but this complex is for what we call single mothers—“
“I’m sorry, I had a long flight, is this really necessary Ms. Glass”
“Actually it’s Rev.Glass, but I just want to get to know a little more about you, hon”
She certainly wasn’t what I pictured when I thought of reverends, she looked to be in her late twenties and a smile like a beauty queen.
“Okay.” I surrender to her questioning, Rev. Glass always seemed to have a lot of questions.
“So, what brings you here?”
“Um”, I had so many things I could say, “I just wasn’t in a good place, I felt that I could get a little more than an education here.”
“That is very true. Now before you start summer classes I want you to know we have a lots of services I think you’ll be interested in.”
“I’ll look into it.”
“I live in the building with the green door, if you need me.”
She gives me her phone number and sees herself out.
Once she was gone I looked around the overly-decorated
apartment. I hadn’t expected to have a roommate but then again I never really
asked. I had just wanted to get away from
I decided to start unpacking.
I dragged the suitcases up a short flight of stairs to where there was a bedroom door open with a miss placed welcome mat in front of it.
There was a school calendar sitting on the small desk, A scripture written across the front.
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
----
I decided to wait and see if my new roommate would show up. I couldn’t help but to clean up a little bit and organize the piles of paper and books. It had only taken me an hour to unpack and all I really cared about was my books.
After my room was decent I I lined up some of my favorite decorative tea tins in the cabinet next to all the junk food.
I flipped on the TV for a few minutes but every time I saw a commercial about families or mothers I would have a mini-panic attack.
Around seven just before the dark I heard the door open and prepped myself. I wanted to look nice but not to nice.
I wandered out of the living room to greet my new roommate. I suspected she was like me (whatever that meant) but for some reason I couldn’t picture it till I saw her
She was very pregnant, she was wearing a school sweatshirt and athletic shorts, her hair was dark and curly. I realized that I was staring.
I felt overdressed in my full make-up, patterned slip dress and wedge sandals. Ever since I had left the hospital 2 years ago, finally free of the plain hospital gowns I had started to like mixing and matching certain outfits.
Or was it because I wanted to impress someone?
“I was wondering when you were going to get here”, she starts.
“I made it though... I’m sorry I don’t know your first name”
“Karina. Sofia Alexander, right?”
Legally speaking anyways.
“Yeah”
“Oh, you’re so tiny. You’re not even showing yet”
I did have to buy my dress one size larger but I didn’t tell her that. I smiled nervously and she picked up on my uneasiness quickly.
“It’s okay we don’t have to talk about it.”
I change the subject quickly, talking about obvious things like how nice the campus or how sweet Rev. Glass is. We don’t have any classes together she wants to be a teacher and I had settled for Undeclared.
For the first time I felt awkwardly self conscious, as if I don’t want to appear too strange. I don’t tell her that I’m a vegetarian or I’m one of those people who has tons of pictures of their cat.
Or that I was terrified of what came next.
---
I usually never let myself get distracted during school, but I pressed the refresh button on my laptop once again. My e-mail messages stayed firmly at zero.
It was after my first week of classes that I had spent hours pending the perfect e-mail to Severine, telling her how much I valued our relationship and that I had let Tomas get in the way of that.
I wasn’t too detailed or transparent but I told she that I was pregnant and that I didn’t want her to worry. I ended the e-mail with a very sincere ‘I love you’.
I looked up from my computer to see my history class was empty, the professor was packing up. Had I just missed the end of class ?
“Have a blessed day, Ms. Alexander”, said the professor as I gathered my notebooks.
“You too”, I returned
I was only taking two classes during the semester and since they were in the same building I hadn’t seen nearly as much of the campus as I had wanted to.
That day however I had a chance to do some more walking around since I had an appointment at the health center which was the pride and glory of the school.
From the outside the health center looked like a large mansion with an oddly placed parking lot but the inside was standard hospital fare, I should know.
I was meeting Rev. Glass in a conference room and was directed away from the “hospital” side. I had arrived early but it gave me a chance to check my e-mail on my phone.
Nothing
Yet.
Rev. Glass looked different when she was on duty; she was wearing a cream colored suit and her hair was in a conservative bun.
After we trade necessities she took out a few pamphlets and set them on the table
“So, Sofie being enrolled at Carolina Baptist gives you lots of options for
your future.”
I winced inwardly at her use of ‘Sofie’
“I know.”
“Now you have a very important choice to make and just so you know there is no right or wrong choice. So. . .have you been thinking about adoption.”
I hadn’t really thought about anything.
“At times, but I don’t know”
I wondered how honest I could be with her, if this was like confessional at the other church. If the truth really mattered ?
“That’s fine, we can take this one week at a time. Try spending a week preparing yourself for adoption and another as if you weren’t.”
That didn’t sound emotionally healthy to me, but what did I know ?
“Alright”
“Adoption is a good and popular choice and we have our own adoption services mostly church members. Of course they would want to know about you”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, well adoptive parents. Most are church members. I just want you to know that this is a safe place for you to talk I know you are estranged from your husband. . . but do you think he’ll cause a problem for you ?”
I didn’t know how to answer that, I think I was stuck on the word estranged. He wanted to get rid of me, I had just made it easier on him, given him what he wanted.
“Do you want to talk about it ?”, she presses.
I didn’t realize how much the thought of our relationship still stung.
“He wouldn’t be a problem”, I has missed her previous question.
“What kind of relationship did you two have ?”, she looks at me closely, “Sofia, did he ever hit you ?”
I couldn’t lie to a reverend
“Yes, once but it was a bad circumstance. . . “
I didn’t dare go into detail about him trying to stop me from using drugs.
“Sofia, don’t blame yourself, but if it was an abusive relationship then we may have to talk about it sometime.”
“Okay.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a lie or not.
III.
+3+
The car jerks to a stop, I open my eyes expecting to see the narrow streets, yellow taxis and skyscrapers but the dashboard clock confirms that I had only been asleep for 45 minutes.
Stretching out to yawn, my top lifts a little over my stomache, The car suddenly veers slightly to the left lane
“Tomas”, I put my hand on the wheel defensively, the car next us blows it horn before we merge back into our lane.
“Sorry.”
I notice we aren’t on the interstate anymore but on a very familiar path.
We’re in Petal Brooke.
The last place I wanted to be
I don’t want to say anything; maybe we are just getting gas. I pretend not to be annoyed as we drive the familiar path over the bridge and through his old neighborhood. It’s almost dark and I self consciously lock the doors.
He pulls up infront of his old house on Honeysuckle, there
is a for sale sign outside. The weeds have grown over and the front yard is untrimmed,
it looks almost haunted, abandoned.
He gets out of the car, and for a while just stares at the house.
I decide to stretch my legs and join him on the side of the car; it’s just a house to me anyways.
The one story white house hasn’t changed much, there is a misplaced awning and shutters all painted a tacky light purple.
Looking down Tomas picks up a few rocks and without warning one hits the front shutter of the house with a loud crack.
“What are you doing?”, I reach to stop him but think twice.
He doesn’t listen but another rock hits side of the house, another one hits the window with a crisp shatter.
“Shit”, he throws another one, but it doesn’t go far, it frustrates him.
“Are you okay ? “
“This is where everything went wrong for me isn’t it?”
He struggles to find another rock as evening takes over, the tips of his fingers are scraped but not bleeding
“Fucking drugs. Family. Money”, each word earns another rock at the house.
I don’t know the answer to his question, I put my arm around him in a hug. He doesn’t respond but I can tell he doesn’t want me to let go, so I don’t for a few second.
He leans against the car for a while, just looking at the house as if it’s about to do something.
I can’t help but to want to be frustrated with him, about how can he blame an inanimate object for all his problems. I mean it’s a house I want to tell him that everything he hates about himself is on him, but I don’t.
“Let’s get out of here”, he finally says.
+++
Crossing the
We have a late dinner at a mediocre chain restaurant just a few feet from the motel. I had been to tired to notice there was only bed in the room.
Our conversation had been stilled and even though we had so much to talk about we said very little.
After a long shower I tried to put the least “revealing” nightgown I could find. I just hoped he would be asleep when I got out.
He wasn't.
He was sitting at the little table
“Sofie, can I talk to you”
“Sure”
He kicks out the other chair and even though I don’t want to, I sit across from him.
“I think. . . I think something is wrong with me”
“You seem fine. . .considering”, I had noticed he stopped smoking and his fingernails were paying the price.
“First, I love you”
“I know”
“You’re the-“, His hands start shaking a little.
“It’s okay”
He studies my face and it’s as if he is seeing me for the first time. He leans over the table placing his lips over mine. He motions for me to stand up and placing his hands on the side of my face he holds me still and kisses me again.
I relax a little, more than I think I have in a long time. The kiss was sweet and familiar.
He moves his hands away from my face and places them around my back, pulling me closer.
His eyes are tired and bloodshot but there is something more. He was still getting high, still drinking. . .
“Wait--“, I start
“No, it’s okay”, he starts kissing me again, this time allowing his hands pressing against my collarbone. He holds me against the wall with a little force, “I don’t care if your’re carrying some other man’s bastard”
He tightens his grip on me.
“Tomas.”, it comes out like a plea.
“little whore”
He let’s me go and gives me a look like I did something.
“What’s your problem?”, I risk asking, “I didn’t do anything to you, you didn’t have to come for me.”
Unless he just wanted someone around to take his anger out on.
“What did you want to tell me?” I remembered why we had been so close in the first place.
“forget it”, like that he shuts me outs.
“Tomas”
“Good-Night”
The lights flicker off and its silent.
+++
Tomas had long since fallen asleep and I, being curious began to look through his bags.
I cam across a familiar looking sketchpad and flipped through it a few times. The drawings were familiar.
They were me, well mostly me.
Each penciled drawing had an expression and occasionally an outfit that I owned. I noticed a few other New York landmarks and people.
I’d be lying if I didn’t find it a bit strange, but I knew this was how he coped with things.
He slept quiety, his arms and chest were wrapped in the white sheets, he always looked best when he was sleeping, I didn’t dare turn his wrist over.
I still found myself questioning his outburst and I tried not to let it get to me.
Climbing quiety out of bed I drag my suitcase to the door. I quickly slip into the blue and white sundress I had ironed for tomorrow. I don’t know how safe the town we are in is at this time of night but I wondered if it was safer than the alternative.
I was being ridiculous.
Kicking off my shoes I decided to lay back down,certain of one thing.
Tomas was hiding something
IV
---
Swing Low Sweet Chariot
Coming for to carry me home
The brightest day that
I can say
Coming for to carry me home
When Jesus washed my sins away,
Coming for to carry me home.
I hummed along during Sunday service, finally feeling in place (fashion wise anyway) with my white and black dress and cardigan, my heels may have been a bit to high though. Looking around the service was a mixture of alumni, students and parents.
Even though I had been at CBC for two weeks I had finally decided to go with Karina to Sunday service. Much like I had gone to lunch with classmates from HRU, church was just a social event.
Karina was eighteen, she had a boyfriend and they were planning on getting married but till then they stayed in separate housing. The school had a big family following and were willing to do anything to keep families together. Just spending a few minutes with her made me realize how fast I had grown up after losing my mother.
My friend from high school, Paige Harlow was also a student, it helped that her father was a popular minister and alumni of the school.
Paige had met up with
me before service and invited me to an exclusive picnic her family regularly
hosted on the University Lawn
I wasn’t surprised to see Rev. Glass and a few other students I recognized as guest when I arrived at the picnic
“How’s it going ?”, asked Rev. Glass.
“Fine”, I tasted some of Mrs. Harlow’s famous potato salad
“Do you remember what we talked about earlier”
We had talked a lot lately, but I assumed she was talking about the adoption.
“Yes, everything”
“I know you haven’ t made a decision but I have a couple
here you might want to meet. They are in CBC’s registered adoption index. I
think they would like to meet you.”
I wanted to protest but I didn’t think I had a choice so I followed her over the barbeque where couples in thier early 40’s were chatting with Rev. Harlow.
The couple introduced themselves as Richard and Kay Winston. They were newlyweds and teachers in their late 40’s and even though they didn’t hint at it, they looked at me like I was the answer to their prayers.
I was 12 weeks pregnant and made every effort to hide it. I wore lots of black loose clothing. I was too good at being in denial, or maybe I was ashamed of myself but I knew this woman would give everything to be in the position I was and she was very motherly and I liked that.
We chatted for a while and even though we had little in common. On the way out Mrs. Winston gave me one last look before turning to her husband and smiling.
I swear she looked years younger
---
“History of mental illness ?”
“Does it count if I only know about my mom ?”
“Yes”
“Yes. . .my mom is—was bipolar”
I tried to peek at the questionnaire Rev. Glass was making me answer. She clears her throat before continuing.
“Drug use”
I tapped my fingernails nervously on the desk, why did she have to be dressed so religiously in her robe and emerald cross.
I had successfully avoided visiting the doctor I had been assigned but as slowly running out of excuses. Meanwhile I was subjected to another questionnaire.
“I did drugs once. . . before”
“Which ones?”
I started to open my mouth when I realized I had never said these types of things out loud. Really confessed to all the wrong I had done, they had been my--our little secrets.
“Valium”,I start with the least illegal, “um. . . I tried .
. .heroin, ecstasy, and”
Her jaw nearly dropped at the “and”
“. . . That’s it”, I decided to stop there.
“Sofia...you
don’t seem like the kind of girl—“
“I wasn’t.. . I’m not
. . .I’d been fighting with my foster mother and a lot of other sh--stuff .
.but I quit”
I knew how stupid it sounded but it was the truth.
“Sofia, I wasn’t going to preach to you because I know you haven’t taken God into your life yet but do you know why so many young women like yourself do ?”.
I had some idea
“No”, but I wanted to hear hers
“We preach about love and Christ love, him dying on the cross”, she wanted to make sure I understood, “It’s free, you don’t have to buy it on the street and there are millions of people willing to share with you”
I wanted to explain to her that I never really bought any drugs, that I wasn’t a lost cause who needed to see the light but I said something else.
“Or leave you”
She smiles realizing that she had placed a little crack in the agnostic wall that I had put up.
“No, and it’s unconditional and forgiving. You’re not going to find that in any man. All I’m saying is you never have to wonder if someone is willing to die for you. . .or your baby.”
I realized that we were holding hands.
Kid, child, mistake
Never had I (or anyone else) use the word baby, it sounded so innocent and her use of a posseive term.
I think it took Rev. Glass a few seconds to realize what she had said and she quickly changed the subject, never letting go of my hand.
“Some easier questions; what about some of your hobbies ?”
Finally a question I could answer
“Art, I like museums, cooking and of course reading. . .”
We continued for an hour filling out more forms and talking, at the end of the day the person I saw as a mentor became a friend.
---
I was overwhelmed.
I had decided to get involved and at Mrs. Harlow’s request I offered to bring a desert to the church’s Annual July 4th picnic, the Harlow’s were hosting it at the University.
I had been stubborn and refused to let Karina or her fiancé, Jayson, help me.
Karina and Jayson had stayed up late watching a movie and going through a list of baby names, coming to terms that by the end of the summer they would be parents. I didn’t want to pry but they both seemed to come from strict household I couldn’t help but to wonder why they weren’t more careful.
I turned off my ipod so I could listen to their conversation but they didn’t say much, I never realized how quietly content some couples seemed.
I maneuvered my way around the tiny kitchen to put the finishing touches on a strawberry shortcake. I knew I had been stressing myself out and Rev. Glass and Karina were worried that I wasn’t gaing enough weight, but I had already surrendered to maternity clothes.
I pushed those thoughts from my head and Halfway through my last layer of vanilla cookies and strawberries my cell phone rings.
I know it’s Severine.
“Hello?”
“Sofia Madeline Madigan I can’t believe you sent me an e-mail you should have called me, I can’t believe you hid this from me.”
I wanted to yell back at her for waiting so long to get back to me, but I knew
Severine always needed time to deal with things.
“I was going to tell you sooner, I’m sorry please don’t hate
me”
“Sof, you know I’m here for you. . . I can’t pretend like I’m not a little hurt that you didn’t trust me.”
“It’s not like that, you know how I can be.
“I want you here with me. How did this happen?”
“It’s not important—“
“You have to tell Angeline.”, she started giving me orders
“Sev—“
“Wait I have another call”
I waited while she clicked over, after a few minutes she came back on.
“Oh my God, I have to there was a fire at your studio. . . listen I won’t tell Angeline but we need to talk, I’m sending you a ticket.”
I barley proessed the fire part.
“I—“
“Great, bye”
“Can’t do that. . .call me”, I finish as she hangs up
---
“Stupid, stupid, stupid”, I chided myself trying to scrape sun-melted whip cream off my destroyed desert.
It was nearly 80 degrees at the church picnic and I had somehow not thought to make a desert that wouldn’t melt. Paige was hovering over me trying to make me feel better but there was more on my mind than just the shortcake.
I had decided that I was going to tell the Winstons about my decision to go through with the adoption. I had even outlined a little speech about how being “adopted” by Angeline had changed so much in my life.
“We can eat desert first”, suggested Paige poking a fork at the warm strawberry/wafer mix.
I always liked talking to Paige, partly because of her perfectly southern accent and unconditional optimism.
“No, it’s no big deal. My mind is just all over the place
“How about I get a cooler with ice and we can put it in there.”
“Thanks”
I had to slow down; I had a habit of trying to do everything so fast. While everyone is mingling and commenting on today’s service I take a forkful of the warm shortcake, its actually not that bad.
“Still a wonderful little chef I see.”
That voice.
He still had the same perfect blonde hair, chiseled features and reassuring smile that was standard issue for his career.
“David”, he smiled when I used his first name. I suppose I could have called him Dr. Amherst, but as far as I was concerned Dr. Amherst was his father.
“I was surprised when my father said you were here, especially the speficis.”
When I left for
“Angeline and your parents are good friends”, I told him, “and you always said that I wasn’t ‘all there’. It only figures that I would make a mistake like this.”
“All that time you spent in my office watching me prescribe birth control and preach safe sex, it's a shame”
He looked quickly at the church when he said preach.
I felt like I had to readjust myself to be the person I was around him; silent, kind, obedient.
“Actually”, David continued, “Angeline and my mother did have a
conversation lately. She told me your significant other was HIV positive.”
“They talked so recently”, David continued, “That Angeline didn’t even know you were going to school here.”
I decide not to come out and tell him anything. Although not the smallest, Petal Brooke was a small town. It was strange to think they may have been gossiping about me.
“I didn’t want to worry her”, in all the time I had spent with David we never had particularly long conversations, he had always been perfectly capable of talking for hours about himself.
“Well you’re worrying me, to think he might have infected and left you like this. . .” not an ounce of sincerity in his voice.
“I’m not. . .infected”, it wasn’t the best word choice , although I’m sure I gave him the answer to a question he wanted to ask.
“I saw it on the day we first met, you probably don’t remember. It was about six years ago I was doing rounds at the hospital and Angeline had bought her new “angel” in because you were emotional unstable. Throwing tantrums and such.”
I had vague memories of that; of course I was still grieving my mother then.
“What did you do”, he went on, “fall into an uncontrollable episode, got yourself a little to hig—“
“What are you saying ?”, I said in a hushed whisper
I looked around as if he forgot we were standing just feet a away from a sanctuary.
“Sofia I don’t know what lie you are telling yourself or everyone else but you know how you are."
I was tired of people telling me how I was
“No”, he was taken aback by my harsh tone, “But I know how you are. I worked and covered for you long enough to know you’ll fuck anything in a skirt from patients to employees.”
He opens his mouth to respond but I don’t give him the chance. I had never really stood up to anyone like that and it felt nice but it wasn’t enough.
I walked away from him and straight into the Winstons, they gave me a very warm and familiar welcome.
Looking behind me David is still where I left him, not a hair out of place
I hate the way he is watching me. I wondered if her knew the Winstons if he would tell them things about my past.
“Mr and Mrs.Winston”, they smiled
“Yes, dear”, said Mrs. Winston
“When I was younger my mother and I never exchanged gifts for holidays or birthdays, at first I thought she was being unfair but she couldn’t always afford it. Anyway as a result I’m terrible at giving gifts.”
They seemed confused by my anecdote but just saying ‘my mother’ made me feeling better, almost like she was there.
“I want to give you a gift”, I continued
I remembered to breathe.
I may have never had a real family but I could give one.
---
David’s words stuck with me
You know how you are
The next day I work up early and called a cab for a day trip. I paid the driver one hundred dollars to take me to Petal Brooke, I had made an appointment with Dr. Olsten, the psycharist I had seen earlier that summer
I had taken the little money I had saved to make an appointment. I asked the driver to stay close by when I was finished.
The same bored secretary worked behind the desk, she didn’t seem to remember me. I flipped nervously through an old magazine. I had decided to miss class and lunch with Rev. Glass for this.
The doctor came out and called my name (like before), he smiled kindly and I could tell he remembered me.
“Ms. Sofia, what brings you back?”
“As I’m sure you know I didn’t have to go to court”, he nods, “So, I think I have a right to know about the evaluation you gave me.”
He starts looking through a file, nodding occasionally as if he is remembering that I am that girl.
“You didn’t tell me you were pregnant.”
“I didn’t think it was relevant”
“Well, congratulations”
I was slightly taken aback, but his comment was strangely on topic. We settle into his office.
“So . . . I just want to know if I’m like my mother.”
“I can’t tell you from our brief session—“
“It’s just. . you were right about everything else. I do try to be the perfect everything to everyone else. I mean I got a C on my book report the week my mother died and I thought maybe if I got an A she would have lived.”
I was rambling but I was paying for the hour.
“Ms. So—“
“I’m sorry it’s just my life has been one constant unconstant since I was a kid. I blamed it on my mother’s illness as if the disease were separate from her but it wasn’t. It was a part of her and I just want to know if it’s part of me, if I have some life-destruction button.”
“Doctor”, I continued, “when I fist came here I was trying to deceive you, the funny thing is I think I am crazy”
“Sofia, I’m hesitant about diagnosing you as Bi-Polar. It relys so much on honesty on your part. Do you even have a history of mania, episodes, impulsions, severe depression.. .”
I could in so many words just yes.
I could tell him how I had been to 3 colleges in 2 years and was failing the first one, how I hated drugs one minute and depended on them the next, how I had spent weeks not talking after my husband left me (the first time), or how I swallowed pills to make me happy, how I had lied and cheated, how I wanted a mans touch one moment and hated it the next.
I started to explain but my words were caught in my throuat, I felt like a weight was lifted off of me and I just let it out.
Tears and all.
“Can you help me?”, I prayed it wasn’t to late, “ I just want to be better.”
Such a simple thing.
“I’d have to talk to your doctors first, but I can start you on what medications will be safe, but the pills aren’t going to instantly make everything better.”
“So you do think I’m like her.”
“I don’t know your mother’s case… you have to stop comparing her life to yours. ”
I watched nervously as he reached for a prescription pad. I pulled myself together and closed my eyes for a few seconds.
“Doctor”, I thought back, “If I remember correctly mania is like euphoria.”
“It can be”
“Do you think it could create feelings of love---or love-like.”
“Unfourtunaly euphoria isn’t a natural human experience, but love is.”
I’m sure he could have said no but I think he was trying to tell me something.
V.
+++
Tomas and I oversleep till late in the afternoon, and get a
late start on the five hours left till we made it back to
While I’m still lounging in bed, he tells me he is going to make a quick trip to get some ice and gas and after just five minutes I wonder if he is coming back.
I spend the time getting ready, He gave not indication that he realized that I had fallen asleep in the clothes I had laid out.
I throw on a pair of flip flips, this time putting on a little more make-up then I had yesterday, pulling my hair into a pony tail and looking in the full length mirror even with the clearly visible bump, I decided I looked pretty.
Looking over I see Tomas’s duffle is open; his clothes are in a completely disarray so I start folding and organizing his clothes. There are also a few bottles of cologne and an opened box of cigarettes in the bottom.
Then something shiny catches my eye
It’s a little tube of sparkle filled lip-gloss it smelled like pineapples and coconut, it was the cheap brand that I didn’t remember buying, but I had so much make up.
I put the chain-lock on the door and dig a little deeper.
I felt terrible but this was a good way for me to find out what he was hiding. I open the box of cigarettes to find our wedding rings settled at the bottom of it, the are looped around a delicate silver chain.
“Sofie”, he calls from behind the locked door.
I quickly put the box back and open the door.
“Are you ready ?”, he asks
“Yes and no”
He zips up the bag not noticing that I had slipped the lip gloss into my purse.
“What do you mean?”, he asks.
“I need to go back to Petal Brooke”
“I’m sorry?”
“No, I mean I just need to take care of something, please.”
He closes his eyes in defeat, “I’ll give you an hour”
Even though I don’t need it he helps me down the hotel steps and to the car, soon we are heading back to the way we came.
VI
-4-
I always preferred Central Park, there was more of a culture a sense of city pride, It was a park and was always meant to be a park.
I had learned in one of my many classes at Hudson-River that Washington Square Park had original been a cemetery years ago and every step I took I wondered if I was bothering someone’s eternal rest.
24 hours after arriving back from Dr. Olstens and I found myself not complelty at peace. Severine had e-mailed me the promised plane ticket, I decided not to let it go to waste.
After arriving in
“What’s wrong ?”, I asked her handing her a tissue.
“Well, look at you, God, how could you have not told me ?”
“I told you now and that’s all that matters”
Severine pretended not to notice the manilla envelope containing divorce papers I had clutched in my hand the whole way here.
We took one of Severine’s cars back to her building; it was still as tall and glamours as I remembered.
The minute the door to her apartment opened a usually playing coy, Charleston meowed happily from his place on Severine’s couch. I resisted the urge to smuggle him back to me. I picked him up and let my hand glide through his warm familiar fur.
Severine made some of my favorite Chamomile tea and after catching up on Severine’s love life she noticed I had been looking at my watch.
“Have somewhere to be?” Severine asked
“You know I cherish my alone time”
“Sofia, how did you let this happen”
I put my tea down and considered this my moment of untruth.
“I was in the hospital, Tomas had just been admitted. . .”, I wanted to get this right, “Dr. Lane told me that he had been trying to commit suicide.”
“He would have known about the PCPC”, Dr. Lane had said, “He knew. . . going without the drugs the infection would kill him.”
“What are you say—“
“Not getting treated. . . It’s a death sentence”
I ran, I fucking ran.
No literally
I wasn’t about to let someone else choose to die on me. I had spent 4 minutes and 19 seconds earlier that day thinking I was alone with a dead body, thinking it was all my fault for having fun, for finding trust and happiness on the outside.
“Suicide ?”, I hated it when Severine had that I-didn’t-know-it-was-that-bad look.
I wanted to tell Severine, I wanted to call her and tell her she was right, that Tomas really didn’t care about me, he knew my mother committed suicide. . . hadn’t I told him that ?Either way he was selfish.
I decided to fuck it, and before I knew I was crying on the living room floor with a needle in my wrist. This had been the only thing we had had in common.
Fuck him, like I didn’t know that he liked to hide Crank and shit in loose tile boards.
I thought I heard a knock at the door, I jumped a little and sliced my wrist.
Shit.
I could be in Paris.
I cleaned my wrist but I was still hurting and the knocking was all in my head.
“Sof ?”, Severine had noticed I wasn’t paying attention.
“hmm”, I responded still not complely there.
I finally gotten a grip on myself and had no idea what I had just put into my arm. It was much stronger than anything else and I felt the effect immediately.
A sweet airy tingle.
God, it felt so good. I wanted more.
Suddenly nothing hurt, not even the fresh cut on my wrist. Then I did the worst thing someone as high as I was could do.
I got lost.
And found
And then I got really lost
“Sof, ?”
“What?”, I set my tea cup down so hard it almost shattered.
When I finally found myself 14 hours later I felt low and I had somehow passed out in an alley just outside my apartment building.
My wallet was missing and there were bruises on my arm.
I remembered names and faces and I remembered.... for the most part nothing.
There was a little club down the street and .. .
Fuck, I didn’t remember
My nostrils were on fire my mind was jumping from one thing to--
I navigated my way through the back exit and up the stairs. I washed my face put on some make-up and went to visit my husband in the hospital.
“One day without you, Love, and I break”, I told his unconscious body.
The doctors told me he wouldn’t be lucid but I still stayed, convincing the staff that I was stressing over his health instead of (more than) slightly tweaking.
They thought I was to young, to inexperienced
“I think I’m going to visit some of my old haunts, you know
the museums.”, I finally finished a sentence, but I wanted to get out of there.
“Well, I have to get to work but how about lunch”, offerd Severine.
“Lunch is good”
I gave Charleston a “I’ll see you later” rub and took the first train downtown. I rode past the museums, tourist traps, cafes and restaurants I had learned to adore and got off in the Village.
I had only been to Maddie and Erick’s apartment a few times the building was bright red and had a Laundromat underneath it. I punched in the code “0000” and felt slightly accomplished when it opened.
Maddie, in-between jobs, opened the door.
“He’s not here” she said immediately.
“Where is he?”
She gave me a once over.
“Wow, look who got herself into trouble”
“Maddie, please. I’m in a rush”, I wasn’t.
“The park”
I couldn’t help but to let my frustration show.
“Which park ?”
“
-5-
I took a few more steps along the parks perimeter. It was early afternoon and was filled with tourist and students. I briefly wondered when Tomas decided to hang out in parks and very briefly wondered if he was living here now.
Only a few feet away, I realized he looked exactly the same.
His skin a shade darker from being out in the sun, I imagined (and realized it does) bring out the light grey in his eyes. Lines of ink decorate his arms and hands.
A large sketch book and pencil infront of him, he looked to be deep in concentration, like the way I was when I was reading my favorite novel.
I quickly ducked behind a tree, as if my presence would some ruin how perfect he looked to me.
I hated how close I was, I could see what he was drawing and it was unmistakably someone I had only seen in his pictures.
His mother, not the woman I had met once, but maybe his mother before whatever went wrong in her life happened.
He looked better than I had ever known him to.
Was that a smile playing on his lips ?
What was I going to say that would ruin that? Tell him that he married a crazy person who probably only married him because she was crazy? Then shove divorce papers in his face.
I knew his life had been cut short and this was how he wanted it. Not hurting the people he loved, and even though I knew I would never stick to it I decided that this would be my good-bye.
If he didn’t wake up tomorrow, it wouldn’t hurt me.
I knew he was happy.
I quietly turned and walked away.
---
Later that afternoon I had sat down to lunch with Severine and told her about the adoption halfway through appetizers.
“Sof, are you trying to make me cry ?”, she didn’t seem upset
“No. . .why ?”
“I don’t know. . .it’s just I was adopted. . .when I was a kid. . .”
In the six years I had know Severine and Angeline I had always known she was adopted but I never questioned it, their relationship seemed so natural.
“I know”
“So. .. I just. . . I just want you to not doubt this. .
.being with Angeline has meant so much for me”
“Me too”
No matter all the stuff Angeline had put me through before she left she, had been there for me when my own mother dropped out.
“To Angeline Duval, may one of us remember to call her”,
Severine raised her bottle.
“To Angeline. . . and the Winstonts”
“Who---oh, of couse”
We toasted with our Pierre bottles and broke into a fit of laughter
VII
+++
“You were in
I couldn’t tell if he was upset or just disappointed.
“Yes and no”, I answer both questions, “Maddie didn’t tell you.”
“I think I would have remembered that”, he wasn’t being sarcastic.
We pass by another billboard advertising Petal Brooks’ Tulip festival and I know we are only a few minutes outside of town, but at the speed he is going I’m afraid he is going to drive past it.
“Are you going to tell me why you need to go to Petal Brook ?”, he asks.
“I don’t—‘
Just as the speedometer hits 120 a green sedan pulls out quickly from the, I hear Tomas pressing hard on the brakes.
I brace myself as the car drags ahead.
I feel my body being pressed against the side of the car and close my eyes tight. The air is literally knocked out of me.
Tires screech, attempting to a stop but we are going entirely to fast.
VIII
---
I couldn’t sleep.
In the weeks since I had gotten back from visiting
It was harder for me to ignore being pregnant , I stopped feeling that tinge of guilt and shame I had associated with myself.
This wasn’t about me and my mistakes it was about the Winstons and their family.
I rolled over on my side and snuggled with a pillow hoping it would make me feel better. I stared at my nightstand for a while and opened the draw. I had thrown a few pens and books in there but reached in a little deeper.
My fingers ran across something cool.
It was a silver picture frame.
I had been fooling around with my digital camera when Tomas had been bedridden. I’m sure he was making a half-assed remark about how small the studio apartment was or about me, but he was smiling.
A cigarette was in-between his fingers and he looked so animated considering how sick he had been. Of course he was happy; he thought he was going to get away with suicide.
I decided to look past that thought
I placed the picture on my dresser for the night but kept moving it, picking it up or adjusting the angle.
Laying down to rest again I felt a slight rumble, as if I were hungry. It was late and I was tired so I decided to ignore it.
The feeling came and went very quickly, like butterfly wings.
I was afraid something was wrong.
I let the worst possible scenarios run through my head, wondering what I should do when I realized.
I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep that night.
-6-
I laid my head against the window as Rev. Glass navigated her stationwagon through a typical southern neighborhood. Local football teams were in high spirit in the neighborhood and when we finally pulled up to the Winston's house I was take aback.
It was modest at best. Just one-story with a trimmed lawn and a large tree hanging down out front. The blossoming garden out front added a splash of color.
Maybe this was normal.
Mrs. Winston saw us coming and
called us around back.
“I just made some lemonade”, said Mrs. Winston, “I’m so glad you called first, I really wanted to show you the garden.”
“It’s beautiful.”
She sprinkled some water on the rainbow of pansies, dasies and four o’clocks.
“Sofia has some news for you”, Rev. Glass annocuned.
Mrs. Winston pulled herself from the flowers and settled next her husband. I suddenly felt stage fright.
“Well—“, I started
“Did you find out the sex ?”,
asked Mrs. Winston
“Oh, no I didn’t ask”, they smiled at my forgetfulness, “Rev. Glass thought I, um,should . . .let you know that I’ve been diagnosed with . . . bi-polar disorder.”
They looked confused and exchanged looks.
“It’s genetic isn’t it”, said Mr. Winston matter-of-factly
“Yes, I believe so. My mother has it--”
“Does the father have it ?”, Mrs. Winston sounded upset, urgent
“I don’t know”
“That's like manic depression, isn’t it”, she turned to her husband.
I hadn't heard that term.
“No, it’s fine”, I assured her, “I got it from my parents and I turned out fine.”
Mrs. Winston poured a glass of lemonade, she looked like she was trying to figure out a hard math problem.
“I just don’t know”, she whispred.
“There’s nothing to ‘know’, you may have to buy a few pills that’s all.”
“I know dear”, she said to me, “
I just. . . I just don’t want to raise a serial killer”, she seemed to regret it the minute she said it.
“What?”
“Sofia”, Rev. Glass interjected, “The Winstons are from a different understanding of mental ilneess’
“It’s not just that”, Mrs. Winston defended herself, “I mean we are teachers, I know how hard it can be I just want to be sure—‘
“Sure ?”, I had been quiet to long, “I’ve never killed anyone, my mother never killed anyone. I bet if people would have looked past my moms illness she could have been apart of a happy family and maybe she would still be alive—“
“And you wouldn’t”, finished Mrs. Winston, “ I’m 43, I’m just afrai-“
“Don’t be, Listen I was a wreck when my foster mom took me in. She put up with every crazy-hurtful thing I did. You can do that to, Kay”
Mrs. Winston turned and cried into her husbands shoulder, his eyes were glassy.
I realized my last comment didn’t help.
“Sofia”, said Mr. Winston, “We just don’t want to wake up to find our child doing drugs or running away, things like this tear familes apart. . . you have to understand.”
“What’s happening ?”, I asked Rev. Glass
“Well, Sofia”, Rev. Glass said, “I think the Winstons are concerned about adopting a mental ill child”
“Please, listen to me”, I begged them, “I’m sure when you hold your baby you won’t even notice, he or she will look just a normal and happy as another child, please. Don’t you want to be a family.”
They couldn’t even look at me.
Mentally ill, just tasted bad in my mouth
Mentally
“Please ?”, I never felt so unwelcomed in my life
“Sofia”
“No.”, I wasn’t even sure who had been calling my name, “This is all your fault”, I directed towards Rev. Glass.
“I should have never told them”, I yelled at her, “You made me. . . I should have never listened to you.”
“Sweetie, let’s go”, Rev. Glass puts on her soothing voice.
“No”, I pull away from her grasp
“I’m so sorry Sofia, I know how it seems. . .”, Mrs. Winston attempted to console me, “There are safe haven law—“
“No”, I repeated, “That’s how my mother ended up in foster care. . .homeless even.”
Rev. Glass rubbed her hands on my shoulders and silently begs me to leave, by now all the Winstons neighbors are staring.
I decide to make one last plea, I scribbled down my cell phone number and set it next to the lemonade pitcher.
“Please, change your minds”
Rev. Glass leads me back to the car. I sit in the backseat this time.
"You knew", I started accusing her, "you knew how they would react"“Let it out, hon”, she said
I stop chocking back my tears close my eyes and pray.
-7-
I spent that night and the better part of next morning just laying in bed. Karina came to check on me but I told her I was fine.
I lied
I finally understood what if felt like to have your plans ruined to realize that you are not normal.
My genetic code was shit.
I knew there was more to it. I didn’t want to be pregnant, I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I didn’t want to swallow pills or go to doctors. I just wanted to sit somewhere and read.
I wanted to get lost in the museums I dreamed of and travel the world.
Oddly enough I felt like I had gotten a little closer to my mother. She had been sixteen and in my exact situation. She had given up everything for me.
I wondered if she had ever tried to give me away ?
The though made me sick, but this was different.
Wasn't it ?
I decided to sleep it off for a few more days, which lead to a week.
I barley spoke and I knew what was happening.
Before I let my disposition take me over
Karine pulled me out.
She bustled into my room in the early morning pulling the sheets off my bed.
“Get up”, she said, “We are going on a field trip”
I protested silently for the better part of an hour but decided I could get some fresh air. We got into her car and she drove to a busy playground in town.
“What ?”, I asked her looking around.
The park was filled with playing children their watchful nannies and stay at home moms, all completely oblivious to us.
“Marcella.”, she said
“What”
“It’s the name we choose.”, Karina turned towards the group of kids and shouted, “Marcella ! Marcie !”
A few women looked in her direction and then back at the playing kids.
“What are you doing ?”
“Marcie, be careful !”, she shouts to no one.
“Karina ?Are you okay ?”
“I’m practicing, you should try it”
“I’m not keeping it”, there I said it.
“Fine, then practice for the future. You can use one of my back-up names. Try ‘Jamie’.”
“No”
“Sof.”
“Fine.”, I thought about it and very quietly called, “Jamie”
Just then a little boy on the swing turns around in confusion and runs towards his mother.
“Ohmygod!”, squealed Karina.
“Let’s get out of here”, I felt a flush of embarrassment
“How did that feel ?”. Karina asked on the car ride back to school.
“Weird”, I admitted, “definitely to soon”
I disappear into my room the minute we got back. I opened up the bottle of pills and took a few.
Picking up my cell phone I carefully
dial. It wnt straight to voice mail so I called again and again till it picked up.
“Hello ?”
“Hi, Tomas.”
“Sof—“
“I just really need to be with my family, I can’t do this. Will you please come and get me.”
“What—“
“Monday afternoon, exit 17B”
I hung up before he could respond.
---
I would have waited all day for him.
IX
+++
I felt the breath being taken out of me, and all I could see was darkness.
The car wasn’t moving, that was a good sign.
I let everything come back to me. The car, the screeching tires.
My eyes are closed and I am terrified to open them, I don’t want to know what is on the other side.
I prepare myself for the worse and slowly open my eyes.
A red sports car is coming towards the car. The sports car turns and changes lanes quickly and speeds ahead.
Sitting up I take a look out the window, the car is turned around and facing the wrong the direction.
“Tomas ?”. his hands are on the steering wheel, wide-eyes straight ahead
“You have to move the car”, I tell him, “we’re fine just move the car, please”
He cautiously starts the car and drives in reverse before turning the car in the right dicetion, he continues ahead at a cautious speed.
“Maybe you should pull over”
“No, this is what you wanted. We’re going to Petal Brooke”
“Are you honselty blaming me ? you’re the driver”
He doesn’t respond and we continue in complete silence to Petal Brooke. I uncurl my legs from underneath me and they meet the floor with a splash.
A layer of water and ice cube floats on the floor beneath my feet the cooler in the back is tipped over.
“Shit”, Tomas notices
“It’s not new is it?”, I ask about the car
“No. . . but still”
I slip off my sandals and emerge my feet into the cool water
+8+
“Turn right here, and. . .okay this is good.”
Tomas seems annoyed at me giving him directions and is even more sowhen we pull up to a Rosenton Gated Community.
“I can walk from here”, I tell him, “I’ll call you when I’m ready”
“Sofia, whats going on.”
“It’s nothing I promise”
I wait until he has driven around the corner before approaching the gate. The man inside the booth smiles at me.
“I’m here to see Dr. Amherst”
He doesn’t question me and opens the gates, I walk a few blocks to the huge house on the corner. It’s a southern style mini mansion and judging by all the cars outside, there is a party today.
I knock on the door hoping the guest of honor opens.
He does.
“David.”
“Sofia ?”, he walks out and closes the door behind him, “what are you doing here ?”
“I… I wanted to thank you.”
“Sofi—“
“I never understood why you stayed after Angeline left. . . you were never there for her. You wanted to take care of me. You knew I wasn’t well.”
He steps down one step so we are at the same level.
“I knew that you needed help. . . I didn’t want you to hurt yourself”
“And I stole from you”, I confessed, “I took pills and medicines. . .”
“It’s fine. . . and you’re welcome”
I run my thumb over his silk tie, pulling on it slightly to bringing him closer to me in an unexpected kiss.
“I just never got to say good-bye. .. is all”
“Good luck, Sofia”
I take my time down the steps once outside the gate, I see Tomas is still parked in the same spot
“That was quick”, Tomas has the top of the car down
“You’re still here?”
“Always and forever”
X
Tomas
Anyway, that August, I mean technically, that started my
second year in