by K. E. Garvey
“Hey, what happened there?” Rodney pointed a straight line to the torn jeans.
“Told you, this guy meant business. Caught me with whatever the hell he pulled out of a kitchen drawer, but I suppose I had it coming.”
“Looks like a lot of blood.”
He glanced down at his leg as he pulled the denim away from his skin. “Looks worse than it is. Bitch is she wasn’t even that good, but after twenty years of Rosy Palm and her sisters, having manners put on me was a small price to pay.”
Rodney offered a perfunctory smile, but his vacant stare told him he had no clue what he was talking about.
“You coming out to help when you’re done?”
“Give me until the morning to lick my wounds. I swear, I’ll help you then.”
“OK, but sister’s coming back Monday and you’ll be at work. Gotta get done tomorrow.”
He called, “Promise,” over his shoulder as the door slammed shut behind him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Gail - 1997
The doctor her mother had taken her to when she first began getting a period said it was normal to be irregular in the beginning, so the fact that she hadn’t gotten one the previous month didn’t concern her. What the doctor hadn’t told her was that some months would be accompanied by cramps so severe she’d want to reach inside and rip her uterus out.
Gail lay on the bathroom floor curled into the fetal position, pressing the palms of both hands into the fleshy area just above her pubic bone. Although she had no experience with childbirth other than what she’d heard girls talk about in school, she was certain the pain they spoke of couldn’t be any worse than what she was feeling now.
Cheryl said, “I need to go pee,” with urgency from the other side of the door.
“Just a minute,” she called back.
“That’s what you keep saying. I’m going to pee myself if I don’t get in there soon. Come on, or I’m going to tell Mom you won’t come out,” Cheryl said.
“I’m coming.” She pulled herself up with the help of the tub’s edge, and stood to see if the pain would double her over again. The last thing she needed was to hear her mother say, “You poor thing,” in that sugary tone that somehow made any situation seem worse.
When the door opened, Cheryl eyed her, and said, “What have you been doing in here? You know Mom will kill you if you’re using her razor again.”
“Shut up. I’m not using her razor.” She took a timid step into the hallway. “For your information I got my period today, not that you’d understand.” She didn’t often react with sarcasm and wasn’t one to pick at her sister like so many of her friends did to their own. But her pain was so intense she felt entitled to aim her foul mood at anyone she pleased, including the person she loved most.
She closed the door behind her and fell onto her bed. Standing seemed to make the pains worse, although lying down didn’t help much. She resumed her ball-like position and prayed for the pain to go away. It was getting worse and she hadn’t thought that was possible.
She called to Cheryl when she heard the bathroom door open. “Could you tell Mom I need her?”
As much as she dreaded her mother fawning all over her when all she wanted was a double dose of Midol and to be left alone, she had never experienced a period like this one and knew if anyone would know how to relieve it, it would be her mother.
What was taking Cheryl so long to get her?
“M-o-o-o-o-m.”
Her mother bolted into the room with Cheryl following closely behind. “What is it, honey? Cheryl said you’re sick.”
“Period… hurts bad… I think I peed my pants,” she choked out the words.
Her mother lifted the sheet Gail had tossed over herself. She said, “Oh my,” and covered her mouth with a hand as if to push the words back in.
“Did I?” she asked.
“This is what we’re going to do…” her mother began pulling clothes from drawers, “…Cheryl, I want you to run down the road to the Mueller’s house. Tell them your father is at work and Gail is sick. She needs to get to the hospital right away. You tell them this is an emergency, and the ambulance would take too long to get out here.”
“An emergency! What’s wrong with me?”
Wanda ignored her question, and instead turned her attention back to Cheryl. “Go now. And run, you hear?”
Cheryl disappeared without replying.
Once she was gone, her mother took another peek under the sheet. Gail couldn’t read the expression on her face. “What is it?”
“Nothing, baby. You’re going to be just fine. We’ll get a doctor to look you over and you’ll be sleeping in your own bed by tonight.”
“But it hurts so bad.” Her words came out between sobs.
“I know it does, but it’ll be over soon. Hush now. Lie still until Cheryl returns with one of the Muellers.”
She remembered being given a sedative to help her to relax, but everything beyond that point came in snippets. Certain words: Expelled, fetus, and spontaneous abortion painted a fuzzy, but frightening picture in her head. She remembered Cheryl being sent to wait with the Muellers while her mother stayed by her side alternating between holding her hand and stroking her hair as the doctor examined her most private parts. If she hadn’t been so wracked with pain, she would have wished for death. Embarrassment and confusion kept her from saying a word. Each time she was asked a question, she looked to her mother for the answer. Her mother shook her head to each and offered nothing in the way of words, but her eyes told another story.
While the doctor finished his exam there came a knock on the door. Beside from her mother and the doctor, there were two nurses already in the room. Gail prayed the doctor wasn’t going to let anyone else join them. She didn’t know how much more humiliation she could stand. As if reading her mind, her mother motioned to the door and asked the doctor if they could step outside for a moment. Both he and her mother gave her a tight smile before he instructed her to dress in the spare clothes her mother had grabbed from the house. As she sat upright, they slipped out of the room together.
The severe pains she had been having had waned to cramping, just as her mother had said they would. A fetus was a baby, but smaller. She had learned that in health class. Had she been pregnant? Spontaneous abortion sounded like a horrible act. Had she caused it? In the year and a half since she got her first period there had never been one that came on as suddenly or was as painful as this one, but how could she have a fetus and get such a severe period at the same time? As she slipped her top over her head the fabric brushed over her face catching her tears. She wanted nothing more than for her mother to take her home, and Warren to not be there when they arrived. She couldn’t bear the thought of her mother relaying everything that had happened in detail. Instinct told her that once he heard what had happened he’d want to talk to her, alone, and she’d rather die in her sleep than to share such a personal and painful experience with him.
She was dressed and sitting with her hands folded in her lap when the door reopened.
“Gail,” the doctor said while motioning to the woman who entered the room behind him, “this is Mrs. Thurman. She works for an agency whose job it is to look out for the well-being of children. She’d like to ask you a few questions. Is that OK?”
The woman carried a binder and wore a sympathetic smile. Gail assumed it was worn to put her at ease, but it had the opposite effect. The smile told her she was about to be patronized. She anticipated a soft tone and perfectly-timed pats on the hand. She wasn’t up for chatting with a stranger about anything let alone something personal and still unclear to herself, but if not now, she’d only dread it until she got it out of the way. She offered a defeated nod.
“Good. I’m going to step out of the room to give you a bit of privacy.” He touched Mrs. Thurman’s shoulder. “If you want to peek your head out when you’re through.”
Her smile never changed. Gail wondered if she had another smile or i
f she had used this one so much her face had frozen in that position like Aunt Katherine had once said her eyes would do if she continued to cross them.
“Hi Gail, as Doctor Haas said, my job is to help children. But before I can do that, I have to ask a few questions to find out exactly how I can help you. OK?”
Did she have a choice? She mustered a nod.
“Good. The first thing I’d like to ask you is whether you know what just happened to you?”
No easy questions to help establish trust. “Sort of.”
“Fair enough.” The woman scribbled something on her legal pad. “Were you aware you were pregnant?”
No. Yes. It had occurred to her, but she couldn’t be sure. Her period had been late, but if she were being honest, she didn’t count off her days like her mother had taught her to do. How late was anyone’s guess. “I guess it crossed my mind, but I didn’t know for sure.”
“Do you understand you lost the baby?”
“I do now.”
Mrs. Thurman wrote an entire sentence before speaking again. “Do you have a boyfriend, Gail?”
Why hadn’t she started with this question? “No. I’m not allowed to car date until I’m seventeen.”
“Seventeen?”
Gail wasn’t sure whether the woman meant to show her surprise or if it got away from her. “Yes.”
“Who chose that age, Mom or Dad?”
“Warren.”
Gail watched her brows knit together and she jotted something else down.
“Warren? Is he… your stepfather?”
“No.”
Mrs. Thurman’s lips parted slightly as she held her stare. “I see.”
The woman opened her mouth twice, but each time she was unable to speak for some reason. Gail waited patiently, and then, quite unexpectedly, Mrs. Thurman asked if she could visit her tomorrow. At home.”
Her first instinct was to tell her no for fear Warren would be there. She was confused about many things, but one thing couldn’t have been clearer to her. Warren would not like her talking to this or any other adult about what goes on in their house.
“But we’re talking now.”
The sympathetic smile she wore into the room was back. “We are, but I’d like to check on a few things and finish once I have. I know you’re tired and probably just want to get home now, so I’ll stop by tomorrow once you’ve had time to rest.”
If it had been her mother who had made the suggestion she would have argued until she either won or was threatened with punishment, but her foot-stomping and pouting would have no effect on this woman. She nodded and lowered her chin into her chest.
“Your mother is going to take you home now, Gail. Try to get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.” She ended her goodbye with the same touch on the shoulder Dr. Haas had given her only minutes earlier.
There was no clock on the wall, but she’d guess at least ten minutes had passed between the time Mrs. Thurman left the room and her mother appeared.
“Are you ready, sweetie?”
She slid off the exam table and kept her head down as she led the way out of the room.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Amy - 2018
She struggled to decipher the sounds she heard. An elevator ding as it reached each new floor? A timer? Voices? Too many to decipher. Yes, voices. Words. But she couldn’t put them together. It was as if with each new word spoken the previous was yanked away, erased from her memory.
She saw nothing but mist, a fog that could have been black or possibly white. She was unable to tell. Occasionally, there were shapeless forms, shadows moving within it. They taunted her from a distance, never coming close enough to be revealed.
Her mind and her body seemed oddly separated. She couldn’t see her surroundings, but could feel them. The sounds she heard were real, but their source remained a mystery.
A new sensation. It took several seconds before she recognized it. A touch. But was it touching her or was she touching it? Her chest vibrated as an involuntary sound worked its way out. The touch was warm. Soft. It stroked her hand.
“I’m back, but in hindsight I shouldn’t have gone. The coffee was sitting around for God knows how long; and they were out of creamer, so I picked up a Gatorade from a vending machine. That and the candy bar I had in my purse makes for a meal any kid would envy, huh?”
She recognized the voice.
“I spotted two reporters wandering around the lobby while I was down there. Not sure if they were looking for you, but I stopped by the nurse’s station on this floor and told them not to give out any information.”
She clung to the word “information” as if it would disappear should she loosen her grip.
“That detective I told you about, Johnston, he circles back here every couple of hours. He hasn’t exactly been invasive, but he is anxious. I don’t know what he thinks you’ll be able to tell him that I haven’t already, but I guess he’s just doing his job.”
The room was becoming brighter. The fog seemed to be lifting like the curtain on a stage.
“Steve said he’d swing by after work to check on you.”
Another stroke of warmth across her hand.
“I wish you could tell me if there were someone else you wanted me to call, and I think you know the someone I’m referring to. I find it hard to believe that after all the time you two were together you wouldn’t want him here. Something tells me that once you’re out of the woods and he finds out, he’s going to blame me for keeping him away.”
Her chest rose and fell with each inhale and exhale, and for the first time she felt as if she were in control of the rhythm of her breathing.
“I painted your nails this morning. Wine. You can hate me later, but wine was the only color I had in my bag. Actually, it’s one of the only colors I own, period. I never cared for the blues and greens you usually wear, but hey, new wine is better than worn turquoise any day.”
There was movement in her face.
“Omigod. You smiled. You smiled, didn’t you?”
A current traveled the length of her body and she suddenly became aware of a dull pain in her shoulder.
“Amy, wake up. Please, wake up. Nurse!”
It was as if every nerve in her body had been sound asleep and were now waking in clusters. As the nerves in her chest woke, her face contorted in pain. “Sal?”
“Yes, oh god, it’s me. I’m here.”
“Hurts.” She tried to squeeze back when Sali’s grip tightened around her hand.
“I know it does, honey. I called for a nurse, she should be right here.”
She heard the crack in her sister’s voice and wondered how bad she looked. Sali never cried.
Her eyes remained closed until she heard commotion as it drew closer. She opened her right eye and then her left, blinking several times to adjust to the brightness of the room. Several people surrounded her bed, edging Sali back. “Sal?”
“I’m right here.”
She couldn’t make out where the voice was coming from. “Don’t… leave.”
A large nurse with a riot of fuzzy hair that peeked out every which way from a tight bun at the top of her head said, “Hello, Amy. I’m Stella. Nice to see you awake. Can you tell me if you’re experiencing any pain?”
The words “shoulder” and “chest” edged their way to her mouth, but she was unable to speak them.
The nurse nodded as if she understood. “Everything between the neck and the waist. Anywhere else? Headache? How about your vision? Is everything in focus?”
She scanned everything within her view, and nodded. While she answered Stella’s questions, a smaller nurse took her vitals. She glanced at her patient every so often, but said nothing.
“Can you tell me how old you are?” Stella asked. “One-word answers, OK?”
“Thirty. Soon.”
“Are you at home now?”
“No.”
“Are you at the hospital?”
“Yes.”
/> “How many siblings do you have?”
“One.”
Stella looked in the direction Sali’s voice had come from a few moments ago before turning her attention back to her patient.
“Good. The doctor is making rounds now, but I’ll let him know you’re up and he will be in to see you shortly. Is there anything I can get you now?”
“My sister.” Those two words winded her.
Stella reached behind her and pulled Sali forward by the hand. “She’s right here.” She turned toward Sali, and added, “Don’t let her talk too much. I’m sure she’ll have a number of questions for the doctor, but it’s be better if she wrote them down and had you ask them. She’s going to be short of breath for a while, and struggling to speak will only set her back. I’ll bring a pad and pen by.”
Sali nodded without taking her eyes of her sister.
After scribbling something on the chart that hung on a hook by the door, Stella smiled, turned, and pulled the door closed behind her.
“I was so worried. I thought—”
She knew what her sister was having trouble saying. While she was lying face down on the concrete, she had thought the same thing. She hadn’t been sure if it was a bomb, lightning, or a gunshot, but for several moments before she passed out, she thought she was going to die.
Sali sat next to her on the edge of the bed, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and took both of Amy’s hands into her own. She stared at them for a moment before she spoke. “Do you want me to call Paul? I didn’t want him to be here when you woke if it was going to upset you.”
She waited a moment before shaking her head, not because she needed the time to decide, but she knew if she replied too quickly to the negative, Sali would think she had made a rash decision and push the issue.
“Is there anything I can get for you?”
Again, she shook her head. This time more quickly.
Sali let out something between a sob and a laugh. “I want to hug you until you break, but I’m too late.”
A smile stretched across her face at the same time a tear rolled over Sali’s cheek.
