The Virtues of Oxygen
Page 23
“Thank you, everyone,” she said. “We are all here today to honor a remarkable woman, Vivian Eunice Markham.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd. She heard a few “Here, here’s” and an “Amen” from a member of the choir.
“Truth be told, Vivian didn’t want the kind of recognition she has in her passing. She would have preferred to have led an unremarkable life like the ones that most of us have, lives in which we walk and breathe and eat and hold our children without even pausing to consider our good fortune. But Vivian was tapped by the hand of a higher power—or maybe just fate—to live a very public life, one in which she inspired all of us with her perseverance, her sense of humor, and her honesty. I’m sure many of you remember what she used to say: ‘If you can’t say something nice about someone, come here and sit next to me.’”
Holly could hear Darla’s laugh above the rest.
“For fifty-seven of her sixty-three years, Vivian survived only because a machine kept her alive. It was a machine that she both loved and despised. It was both an amazing feat of human ingenuity and an outdated piece of technology, but we all loved it, didn’t we? If it hadn’t been for Vivian’s iron lung, none of us would have had the privilege of getting to know her, of hearing her wisdom, or of seeing the cold night sky pierced with stars as we left her house after a volunteer shift.
“Vivian changed us. Bertram Corners has its problems—empty storefronts, a depressed housing market, unemployment, no good sushi—but we came together around Vivian. We embraced her. According to her, we kept her alive, both physically and spiritually.
“This wasn’t a selfless act. We did it”—and Holly paused to take a long breath to stop her voice from breaking—“because we loved her.”
The crowd in the gym applauded.
“According to Vivian’s wishes,” she continued, “this memorial service is a celebration without mourning. Vivian wanted whatever comes next or doesn’t come next, and she wanted us to liberate her both literally and figuratively. With that in mind, we have paper balloons outside that each contain some of Vivian’s ashes. Before the dance party in the gym, we ask everyone to file outside, where you will be split into small groups to launch the balloons.”
Holly was one of the last to emerge into the weak February light. She found Connor, Marshall, and Racine, who were about to light the base of one of the devices, which worked like miniature hot-air balloons. All around them, one by one the balloons went aloft, floating into the morning sky. Some were red, some were pink, and some were white. Each one wobbled at first, then found its way upward, onward, drifting off into the distance until it was a speck on the horizon.
Holly watched as Connor steadied their balloon and waited for it to fill with warm air before letting it go. Before letting her go. Holly watched the sea of rising balloons, now absolutely certain that this was what Vivian had pictured and wanted for so long. Instead of grief, she felt gratitude. The hollow places in her soul felt less hollow because she had been useful to a remarkable spirit whose every breath—as forced as it was—mattered.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
In 2009 I read a remarkable obituary in the New York Times about Martha Mason, a North Carolina woman who had contracted polio at eleven and lived the rest of her life in an iron lung, dying at age seventy-one. The poignant story, written by Margalit Fox, mentioned that Martha Mason had written an autobiography. I ordered it immediately, read it over a few days, and grew even more fascinated. Martha somehow lived a long and useful life from within the confines of an eight-hundred-pound machine.
The Virtues of Oxygen and the character of Vivian emerged from that true story. Though she is gone, I’d like to thank Martha Mason for her inspiration, courage, and character. My story would not exist if she had not told her own.
Thanks to my editor, Lindsay Guzzardo, who also edited my first novel, A Watershed Year. Lindsay has the ability to coax emotion out of my writing and to identify where I’ve glossed things over or taken the easy way out. My gratitude goes out to my agent, Jessica Regel, who sold this book to Lake Union and who has been with me from the beginning. She’s a professional with a heart, and I owe her much.
Thanks as well to agent Laura Biagi, the team at Amazon Publishing, and copy editor Marcus Trower.
Friends and family continue to support me, and I appreciate each and every person who has listened to me talk ad nauseam about the intricacies of the publishing business. Among them are Karen O’Brien, Theresa Sullivan Barger, Adele Angle, and Marge Ruschau, who read early versions of this novel.
I owe a big debt of gratitude to my friend Adam Sapiro, who let me hijack one of his jokes and bend it for the purposes of my story. I’d also like to thank my former colleagues at Patch.com, who influenced how I viewed the job of covering local news. It is a noble and sometimes thankless calling.
Finally, I’d like to thank my family. My children—Andrew, Jenna, and Claire—have been incredibly supportive of my writing. They inspire me with their own creative endeavors. My husband, Kevin, to whom this book is dedicated, is my rock and my partner. He gives me the space to go off into my own world whenever necessary, and I love him for it.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Susan Schoenberger is a writer and editor who lives in West Hartford, Connecticut, with her husband and three (almost-grown) children. Her short stories and essays have appeared in Inkwell, Village Rambler, and Bartlebysnopes.com, among other publications. A longtime journalist, Susan has worked for the Baltimore Sun, the Hartford Courant, and many other newspapers and online publications. Her first novel, A Watershed Year, won the gold medal in the William Faulkner–William Wisdom Creative Writing Competition. Please visit her website at susanschoenberger.com and follow her on Twitter @schoenwriter.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication Page
CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1 Vivian’s Unaired Podcast #1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5 Vivian’s Unaired Podcast #2
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9 Vivian’s Unaired Podcast #3
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12 Vivian’s Unaired Podcast #4
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15 Vivian’s Unaired Podcast #5
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17 Vivian’s Unaired Podcast #6
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19 Vivian’s Unaired Podcast #7
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22 Vivian’s Unaired Podcast #8
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25 Vivian’s Unaired Podcast #9
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27 Vivian’s Unaired Podcast #10
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31 Vivian’s Unaired Podcast #11
CHAPTER 32
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR