Rich Homeless Broken But Beautiful

by Ian Tremblay

  "I'll talk to her this morning when I come around, okay?"

  "Yeah okay, doctor." Peggy felt terrible as she waited in Linda's room for him to show up.

  At about eleven he came into her room. He was alone and not accompanied by his usual string of interns and nurses. He walked up to Linda and said, "Hi, Linda, how are you today?"

  "Okay," she answered. Her voice was still a bit hoarse. Peggy came up to stand beside him.

  "Hi, Peggy, I was just about to tell Linda about her condition, and I'd like you to stay, if that's okay with Linda, of course." Linda nodded her head. Peggy took her hand, and Linda noticed that her eyes were dark and filled with tears. She stiffened, sensing in their demeanor that something was going on. Peggy gently stroked Linda's hand and kept her gaze on her. The doctor cleared his throat and slowly began to explain to Linda in minute detail in what shape she had been in when she had arrived at the hospital.

  "To be honest with you, Linda, you were practically dead, and nobody thought you'd make it, but you did, and that's a good thing." He smiled at her and then went on to explain how her face had been crushed and how severely she had been burned to her chest, neck, and face. He spoke very slowly, explaining everything in detail. He was very professional, and Peggy felt that he actually made the bad parts sound okay.

  "Now, there is some more difficult news that I have to give you in all of this. Linda, as you have probably guessed, you have unfortunately lost some body parts as a result of your accident." He then went on explain slowly and gently that she had lost an arm, a leg, an ear, and worst of all, an eye. Linda squeezed Peggy's hand hard.

  "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Linda, but this is where we are. Now, I know this is terrible and devastating news, Linda, and that it is a lot to digest, but believe me there is hope. I will discuss later with you all the options you have as far as reconstructive surgery and artificial limbs are concerned. We have some fine surgeons, and they do some pretty incredible work. I wish I had better news Linda, but this is the reality of your situation. On the bright side of things, you are conscious and alive, and that is phenomenal, believe me. We will put you back together, Linda, I promise you that. You will not be the same person that you were, but you will be able to function. It will be a long, difficult, painful, and frustrating process, but you will succeed, I'm sure of that. You are the strongest person I have ever met, and I just know it in my heart that you have it in you to do this."

  Linda had not reacted while he spoke; she had just squeezed Peggy's hand a few times. When he was finished, she extended her bandaged and trembling hand toward him; he stepped closer and gently took her hand in his own.

  "Thank you, doctor; thank you for saving my life," Linda said bravely with a look of determination in her eye. Her voice, although altered by her crushed face, was cracked and choked by emotion. Peggy shuffled her feet about nervously. She had been anxiously looking from Dr. Hall to Linda and felt terrible for her friend.

  "You're welcome, Linda. I'll need you to be strong now, you know?"

  "I'll be strong, doctor. I promise you that. I didn't get this far for nothing."

  "That's the spirit, Linda. Thank you. Now you just rest up and regain your strength, and I'll come in later to see how you're doing, okay?"

  "Okay." Linda's voice exuded fatigue; those thirty minutes with Dr. Hall had seemed interminable and had taken everything out of her. Peggy stayed for a long time after the doctor had gone. Neither of them spoke, and tears poured down Peggy's face. She just could not stop crying. Linda held her hand and squeezed it occasionally, looking at her intently with her one good eye, her gaze strong and steady and filled with all the love she felt for her; Peggy, her one and only true friend, the one who had been there for her in her time of need and who loved her unconditionally. Linda did not cry that day; she did not have it in her at that time. The tears and the pain and the rage would come later.

  Linda spent the next year in the hospital. They fitted her with an artificial arm and leg, and the surgeons redid her ear and she had a pretty convincing artificial eye fitted in. She was, however, horrible to look at, scary even. Her hair was stringy and thin and had no luster. The structure of her face had been altered, and the bones on one side of her face had been crushed to pulp. Half of her face was caved in and drooped, and her mouth and lips were permanently crooked. No amount of reconstructive surgery could correct that. When she spoke, it was from the side of her mouth. The burn marks on her face and neck were so severe that it had been impossible to hide the scars, even for the best cosmetic surgeons. They had encouraged Linda by telling her about a face transplant, but they knew it was still an experimental surgery and that it would be years before Linda would be in any kind of shape to even envision that possibility, if ever. Linda's life was a flurry of reconstructive surgeries, medication, and loneliness, intense and profound loneliness. Of course there was Peggy and her mother, but Linda understood that she was now alone in the world. She was alone like she had never been before in her life, with a now radically different physical appearance, an appearance that would make her life extremely difficult and most certainly fill it with pain and heartache.

  The only exercise she got during this time was when she would walk up and down the hospital corridors at night when there was no one around. Once she had taken such a walk and she had not covered herself, as it was four a.m. and she was sure the corridors would be empty. As she passed in front of a room, a young couple emerged from it and came face to face with her. The woman shrieked as if she had seen a ghost. Linda would never forget the look of sheer horror on the woman's face. They quickly passed her by, and she clearly heard what they said as they walked briskly away.

  "Did you see that? My God, that was terrible."

  "Shhh, not so loud, she might hear you."

  "How can she live like that? Poor girl, it must be unbearable. I'm going to have nightmares about this."

  "Not so loud. I said." The young couple did not realize how deep their words had cut and how hurtful their exchange had been to Linda. Of course, they were young and had only expressed what they were thinking. They certainly had meant Linda no harm, but it had hurt her to the very depths of her being. Linda had seen how they had looked at her, like a freak, and how they had cringed at the sight of her. She understood that their reaction was involuntary and certainly not malicious, but it became crystal clear to her at that time that even partially revealed, she was visually repulsive and a horrible sight to see. From that moment on, she always wore sunglasses and scarves to cover her head and as much of her face and neck as she could. Linda understood clearly her predicament and how dramatically her life had changed for the worse.

  Finally Linda was sent home. She would continue to be followed medically for quite a number of years, but she was strong enough to go home. Peggy had helped her get comfortable in their apartment. She took care of everything-she paid the bills, did the groceries and the cleaning, and kept abreast of Linda's many doctors' appointments and visits to the hospital or rehabilitation center. Peggy was the only thing that had not changed in Linda's life. She was her anchor, and she didn't care how she looked. To her she was Linda, and that was that. Things were different, however, between them. They did not laugh as much as they used to, and they never did anything together outside the apartment.

  Going out for Linda was out of the question, the only exception being if it was absolutely necessary for medical reasons. When she did go out for these occasions, she would prepare herself a day ahead of time. It made her very nervous, and she always wore her sunglasses and a hat and a scarf to hide as much of her head, face, and neck as she could. She would go as quickly as possible into the waiting taxi, so as to spend as little time as possible in the proximity of people in the building or on the street. She was very conscious of her horrible appearance and wished to share it with as few people as possible. Going out for any social occasion was a non-subject, as were men. Peggy knew better than to bring up the subject of boyfri
ends, past or future. That would have been like twisting a knife in Linda's wounds. Linda thanked God every day for Peggy's presence at her side, faithful, unfailing Peggy. She was Linda's only real contact to the outside world, except for the doctors and medical professionals that she saw on a regular basis. Linda was completely dependent on her for just about everything. Of course, she had the Internet and a television, but Peggy was a real person who talked to her about life outside the apartment and real people living a real life. Peggy was the only person besides her mother who Linda felt comfortable enough to be with, up close and personal that is, and who could make her forget her situation, even if it was only for a few hours.

  "Hey, it's me, I'm home." Peggy always shouted when she got home. It gave Linda time to cover herself. Linda was okay with Peggy seeing her face, but it embarrassed her, and Peggy knew that, so she would shout to make sure she didn't startle her.

  "I'm here, Peggy," Linda shouted back from the living room. "How was your day?"

  "Great, hectic, though. It's been really busy at the clinic lately." Linda heard Peggy's keys rattle when she threw them on the kitchen counter, and she walked into the living room. Linda was propped up on the sofa with pillows. The television was on, and books and magazines were strewn about. She wore her usual black jogging pants and a white turtleneck that covered her neck well. Her head was covered with a light blue scarf, and she had a pair of lightly tinted sunglasses on. As usual, all the blinds were closed and the lighting was subdued.

  "Hey you, what's up?" Peggy dropped into the sofa beside her.

  "Not much. I'm feeling stronger every day, though, and you know what? I'm actually getting used to walking with this thing," she pointed to her artificial leg. "I could be good for dancing soon, you know?"

  "You'd better be. I'm counting on that to happen." Peggy smiled; both of them knew it was a lie.

  "That lawyer called again. You know the insurance company guy?"

  "The one with the funny name?"

  "Yeah him, anyway, he says he wants to meet with me to discuss my claim. I've talked with him on the phone a lot of times, but now he insists upon meeting me in person. I can't do this alone, Peggy. I need you to be with me. Will you?" It was obvious by the tone of her voice that Linda was very anxious about the meeting and still very fragile.

  "Hey, come on, Linda, of course I will. You know that. You don't even have to ask me. I'm here for you, and I'll be here for as long as it takes, okay?"

  "Okay, Peggy, thanks."

  "Well, any night this week would be good for me, or Saturday-yeah, Saturday would be better, Linda. Look, this is what we'll do. We'll have him come here and that is non-negotiable, okay?" Peggy looked at her sternly, and Linda acquiesced by nodding her head. "Fine, so before he gets here, we will dim the lights, and you can wear your scarf and glasses, that way you'll be comfortable and everything will be okay. What do you say?"

  "That's sounds fine, Peggy, thanks. You know this guy; he keeps throwing all this legal nonsense at me. All I want is to settle this thing and get on with what's left of my life. I don't feel like reliving this forever. He asks me so many questions it makes my head spin." Peggy took her hand.

  "Look, Linda, I'll help you get through this, okay? Together we can handle this guy. Don't you even worry about it? After all, he's only a fast-talking insurance lawyer, right? He's no match for both of us, believe me." Peggy patted Linda's hand affectionately.

  "Yeah, I guess you're right." Linda was still doubtful. "He makes it sound like what happened was my fault; he's out of his bloody mind."

  "He's just doing his job, Linda. It's all part of his lousy, stinking job. That's probably what this guy does for a living; he scares vulnerable people like you into settling so as to save as much money as he can for his company. Now please stop worrying. I promise you, everything will work out, okay?" Peggy looked at her intently, her gaze emanating strength and resolve.

  "Okay, Peggy, thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're my life saver." Linda leaned her head and rested it on Peggy's shoulder. Peggy gently put her arm around her.

  "Hey, that's what friends are for, right?" She stroked Linda's stringy hair, and Linda nodded her head in agreement.

  "Jeff Peterson has been asking about you again." Linda sat up. She had not seen Jeff Peterson since that wonderful night before her accident when he had kissed her. It seemed so very long ago now. He had sent flowers and cards to the hospital and had visited her during her coma, but once she was awake, Linda had not allowed him to come and visit her. He always passed his messages through Peggy, and he often left messages on her voicemail. Linda had never responded except to ask Peggy to say thank you for her for the flowers he'd sent and the messages. She had also sent him a thank you note when she had gotten out of hospital. In the note she had asked him to remain away from her and that she would contact him when she was ready to see him. But Linda knew that she was better never to see him again.

  "Really?" Linda had trouble hiding that she was annoyed.

  "Yes, really, you know he always asks about you."

  "Well, just tell him I'm getting along fine with my recovery, okay?"

  "Yeah, okay, I will." Linda felt that Peggy didn't like her answer.

  "Look, Peggy, you've got to understand, I'm not the girl he met and courted. I'm a deformed and mutilated freak. He'll run out of here scared to death." Linda's voice was filled with pain and anguish. It hurt Peggy to hear that because she knew Linda was right, but Peggy was a fighter and would have nothing of it.

  "Now you listen to me, Linda Staunton: you're not a freak, okay? You're the same beautiful person you were before, only your exterior has changed. So please stop saying things like that. It's very hurtful and makes me mad as hell, so stop it, okay?" Peggy had raised her voice; her tone was firm and laden with authority. Linda sunk back into the sofa.

  "I'm sorry, Peggy, it's just that sometimes I get so mad and frustrated because of what happened to me. It's so bloody unfair." She began to cry softly, and she took Peggy's hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry, Peggy, I'm so sorry."

  Peggy took Linda in her arms again. "Hey, it's okay. You're allowed to be mad. Just don't go there on me, please. I can't help you if you're not with me 100 percent, Linda. I need you to fight with me, do you understand?" Linda nodded with her head still leaning against Peggy's shoulder.

  "Anyway, Jeff was just asking about you. I think his concern is sincere. He's just reaching out, so please, at least give him the benefit of the doubt." Linda sat upright and wiped the tears from her face.

  "You're right, Peggy. It's just that I'm not ready to even think about things like that right now. You understand that, don't you?"

  "Of course I understand. Let's just leave it at that for now, okay? I'll tell Jeff you're fine and that you say hello."

  "Yeah, okay."

  "Hey, what do you say I go fix us some dinner?" Peggy got up.

  "Yeah, good idea, I'm starving. What are you making?"

  "Chicken cacciatore with pasta."

  "Sounds great, can I help?"

  "You just stay where you are. I'll do fine, and anyway that kitchen is too small for two people." Peggy went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Linda thought about Peggy, who was sacrificing so much to take care of her. "God I love her. She's such a true friend." She secretly feared the day that Peggy would meet a guy and fall in love. She couldn't imagine her life without Peggy in it.

  While Peggy was busy in the kitchen, the phone rang. Linda saw it was her mother, and she picked up.

  "Hi, Mom."

  "Hi, sweetheart, how are you?"

  "I'm getting better, stronger every day, and you?"

  "Oh the usual, you know, work, the children. Everyone says hi, and Grandma Flo sends her love." Linda could hear them in the background.

  "So do I, Mama. Tell them I send them my love, and I miss them all very much."

  "We miss you too, Linda, and our thoughts and prayers are with you every day."

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nbsp; "I know, Mama, thank you for that. I really appreciate it." Linda talked a while with her mother, and then everyone else came on the line to say hi. They had been doing that a lot since Linda's accident. It was Linda's salvation to be able to talk to her family often; it helped her get better to know that they were out there and that they loved and supported her. The longest conversations were with her mother, though. She gave her news of the family and the hometown, and Linda would tell her about her medical situation or upcoming operations. Peggy showed up in the living room and indicated that dinner was ready.

  "Mom, I've got to go now, dinner is ready. Are you still coming next week?"

  "Of course, Linda, I wouldn't miss it for the world. You know your brother and sisters would love to come too. They're all very anxious to see you and to hug you."

  "I know, Mom, but I'm not ready for that right now." There was a silence at the other end of the line for a few seconds.

  "Sure, Linda, I understand. In due time, eh?"

  "Yes, Mama, in due time, I love you, Mama."

  "I love you too, sweetheart. Bye now." Linda hung up.