because
JACK A. LANGEDIJK
Text copyright © 2014 Jack A. Langedijk
Cover design by VVC
All Rights Reserved
011114SW
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents
either are the product of the author’s imagination
or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-0993758645
ISBN-10: 0993758645
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
because
1. 16 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
2. PRESENT DAY – DRIVING TO THE HOTEL
3. 15 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
4. PRESENT DAY – JENNY’S RESIDENCE
5. PRESENT DAY – ARRIVING AT THE HOTEL
6. PRESENT DAY – JENNY’S RESIDENCE
7. 14 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
8. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
9. PRESENT DAY – JENNY’S RESIDENCE
10. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
11. 12 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
12. PRESENT DAY – JENNY’S RESIDENCE
13. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
14. 10 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
15. PRESENT DAY – JENNY’S RESIDENCE
16. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
17. PRESENT DAY – AT THE AIRPORT
18. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
19. 8 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
20. PRESENT DAY – JENNY’S FLIGHT
21. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
22. 6 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
23. PRESENT DAY – JENNY’S FLIGHT
24. TROY
25. 4 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
26. NANCY
27. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
28. PHILIP
29. 4 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
30. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
31. PHILIP
32. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
33. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
34. 2 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
35. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
36. 2 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
37. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
38. SIX MONTHS AGO – MT. EVEREST
39. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
40. SIX MONTHS AGO – MT. EVEREST
41. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
42. SIX MONTHS AGO – MT. EVEREST
43. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
44. SIX MONTHS AGO – MT. EVEREST
45. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
46. SIX MONTHS AGO – MT. EVEREST
47. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
48. SIX MONTHS AGO – MT. EVEREST
49. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DEDICATION
To all those who may feel alone in their struggles.
And to each and every person who takes the time
to show them that they are not alone.
Asking questions is what makes us who we are.
1. 16 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
“I’m not supposed to be here!” Robert Sanchez spoke the moment Seema Pourshadi walked into the room.
“Seriously, this is wrong! I’m not supposed to be here. Really, I don’t know why I’m here. I never requested this.”
Without a word, Seema went and sat behind the desk facing Robert.
“No offence to you and what you do, but I’m not supposed to be here.”
Seema simply smiled and nodded. Her reaction surprised him.
“Oh—Okay then. So me being here—this is a mistake?”
Seema kept smiling as Robert rambled on. “You see, when Benny said I had an appointment with you after my session, I thought you were a new specialist I had to see—you know, going to talk about the new—Argh! Anyway, it doesn’t matter, it’s pretty obvious you are a...a...you know—Anyway, I’m sorry. Benny must have made the mistake. I’m not supposed to be here, right?”
“Okay. But Mr. Sanchez, do you know where it is you’re supposed to be?”
The question stopped Robert cold. He knew it was not meant to be anything more than just asking him what room he was supposed to be in but the innocent question forced a dawning realization that other than the multitude of doctors’ appointments and physio sessions, he really didn’t have any other place that he was supposed to be. The purpose of his days had changed. He had now become the one seeking help from other people.
Seema waited for Robert to answer her question. It soon became obvious that he was lost for words, so she spoke. “Benny didn’t make a mistake, Mr. Sanchez. He was the one who told me I needed to see you.”
“No, Benny would not have done that! He knows! I told him. We talked about it. He knows.”
“Knows what, Mr. Sanchez?”
“Can you please stop with the ‘Mr. Sanchez’? I’m not here for a job interview!”
“All right, ‘Roberto,’ is it?”
“Just call me Robert.”
“Oh, Robert, that’s such a great name! All right, Robert, you were saying Benny knows something. So what does he know?”
Robert squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Other than his parents, very few people ever called him Roberto. The name had suited him more when he was in his twenties when his dark brown hair was all slicked back and he sported a very stylish Clarke Gable moustache. But now at forty-eight, a clean-shaven Robert with a receding hairline was a much closer match to Alan Alda during his last days in MASH.
“Look, he just knows, okay?” Robert held his hand up as if to signal he wanted this conversation to be over.
Seema just nodded in agreement.
“Don’t do that, okay?” Robert looked at Seema who just stared back at him.
“Okay—look, please just don’t do that!”
“I’m sorry, do what?”
“That...that...nodding your head all the time, like you know something I don’t. I’ve worked with a lot of people, you know, and I know what this is. And I’m sorry if Benny asked you. That just makes him another...Damn him! Great! Another person I can’t trust around here!”
“I don’t think he meant you any harm, Robert. Please don’t think Benny was being untrustworthy. I wouldn’t want to—”
“—But he knew! I told him. We talked about it so many times.”
“About what, Robert?” Seema asked calmly in her pleasant Middle Eastern accent.
“About this! About seeing any kind of shrink, therapist, mind doctor. I don’t know, whatever the hell you call yourself. ‘Cause he knew! He damn well knew that I don’t want to be here!”
“Well, if he knew that you didn’t want to be here, do you think Benny knows where you want to be, Robert?”
“No! No! And what the hell kind of question is that? Just stop it, all right?”
“I’m sorry, Robert, stop what?”
“All these damn questions! Look, I don’t think anybody knows where I want to be, all right? For God’s sake, I don’t even know where I want to be anymore!”
Seema watched Robert squeeze his eyes closed again, lower his head, and then rock slightly in his chair. After a few moments, he lifted his head and scanned the room, purposely avoiding her eyes.
The room was a small office space with one window that overlooked a schoolyard. Seema sat in a red cushioned chair behind a plain, dark brown desk. On the wall hung a single, framed picture of a majestic black h
orse flying through the clouds. Among some obvious therapy-titled books, the few bookshelves behind the desk contained a strikingly diverse selection of novels. It looked as if the complete Twilight series, Hardy Boys and James Bond were there. Miss Marple, Jane Eyre and many of John Grisham’s books were scattered over three different shelves. Another shelf seemed completely dedicated to the works of Dr. Seuss. The desk was virtually empty except for two unopened white envelopes and a mug filled with pens and pencils. Dr. Seuss’s book entitled Happy Birthday to You! laid open and face up.
Robert looked up at Seema. Her short dark hair reflected a red glow from the scarf that was loosely draped over her head and around her neck.
“I’m sorry, all right?” Robert spoke unapologetically. “I’m sorry I got upset, but please understand, that ever since this happened, it seems that I have no choice anymore...about anything. Everyone always tells me to be here or there, see this doctor or that specialist. And I made it very clear to everyone—no offence to you, Doctor, but I’ve made it very clear that I don’t want to be in any, you know—this! Therapy! That’s why I said I’m not supposed to be here. Is that clear?”
Seema’s face was hard to read. She possessed vaguely masculine features, and although the deep-set eyes and square jaw did not make her outwardly attractive, her blue eyes seemed to soften all the features of her face when she smiled.
“Well, Robert, first let me tell you that my name is Seema. I am the rehabilitation centre’s assessment consultant. If I don’t give your insurance provider an assessment they will stop paying for your treatment. And second, concerning choices, I am also here to consult with you and help you with all the choices you have now and after you leave this rehab—”
“—Choices? What the hell does that mean?”
Seema’s smile disappeared from her face. “Well, Robert. Even right now, you have a choice. When you came into this room you had the choice of whether to say, ‘hello,’ or to just keep rudely interrupting me.”
Rudely interrupting her? Robert’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He was no longer accustomed to anyone being so blunt towards him. Ever since that day, no one had ever spoken to him like this no matter how irritable or nasty he became. Regardless of his behaviour, everyone always seemed to become more understanding and show more kindness towards him, whether he deserved it or not.
“And maybe to help with your choice making,” Seema continued, without any hint of playfulness, “I should also tell you that today is my birthday.”
Lately, hearing the word “birthday” or even the slightest mention of anything to do with celebration would cause Robert to react with extreme irritability verging on anger. He had developed some kind of resentment to all things celebratory. But he definitely didn’t want Seema diagnosing anything more about him so he masked his reaction with a forced smile and gestured to the opened Dr. Seuss book on her desk.
“Oh. So that’s why you have that book on your desk?”
“Before I answer your question, Robert, I would like to know what choice you have made.”
Robert gave her a puzzling look. “What the—”
“—The choice to say, ‘hello,’ or interrupt.” She smiled.
Robert rolled his eyes as he responded, “Oh God, you’re kidding me! Really? Choice? Yeah, okay then, sure...” He forced another smile. “Hello.”
Seema waited for a moment for his greeting to register, nodded her head and smiled, “Hello, Robert.” She then picked up the book. “And yes, to answer your question, that is why this book is on my desk; it’s a gift from my son and daughter. Mr. Seuss was quite a profound writer, don’t you think?”
“Dr. Seuss.” He corrected her.
She simply smiled again and flipped to a page. “Listen to this: ‘Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.’”
Seema turned the book around for Robert to see the picture inside. It was a bright orange, furry creature happily blowing out the rainbow of candles on his colourful cake.
“I’ve gotta get the hell out of here,” Robert said as he abruptly turned towards the door.
2. PRESENT DAY – DRIVING TO THE HOTEL
I took my love...
Climbed a mountain...
Turned around...
The song played. Not a sad song. Not really a happy song either. But it was their song. Monique turned up the volume and smiled a hopeful smile while looking at her husband, Robert, in the rear-view mirror. They always played this song while driving to the airport to drop off Robert for one of his mountain climbing adventures.
Robert had always half-joked that the song was bad luck because of its title, but Monique would always say, “No, it has nothing to do with luck; the song’s title is just a metaphor. You know, Bobby...to me the song is about some kind of cleansing.”
“Oh, of course,” Robert once joked. “How did I not see it? It’s a song to inspire janitors!” Yet, his funny responses only encouraged Monique to dig even deeper.
“It’s like...really touching honesty or maybe finally realizing what one’s true love is.”
“Ah! So, in the end it’s just another silly love song?” Robert always tried to get his wife to finally commit to one meaning, but Monique loved the challenge of coming up with different meanings throughout the years.
“Okay, maybe it’s finally facing the truth of one’s self—No, wait. Wait, I have it! You know how a snake sheds its skin?” She would get so excited. “Oh wait, I know...maybe a mountain has to shed things too and maybe it’s saying that we are mountains...and, just like mountains, we all have to shed our masks at some point in our lives as well.”
Although Robert’s mind was often preoccupied on those drives to the airport, this song never failed to connect them. It didn’t matter what was said; it was more about what was felt and these conversations always left Monique with the closeness she so desperately needed before seeing him off. A protection against the fear that this might be the last moment they would ever share together.
Monique and Robert had a pact to never speak about this fear. The two of them avoided any conversation mentioning the dangers of those climbs and the reality of death on those mountains. Yet, the thought that something terrible might happen was always alive inside her the whole time he was gone. She never really got used to it. So, no matter how tired or sleepy they both might be, she always made sure to somehow make this drive to the airport count.
The conversation today sadly ended up becoming a monologue as Robert sat in a stony silence in the back seat. His empty eyes just stared straight ahead, not once catching any of Monique’s smiles or her playful winks in the mirror. So she tried the only other way she knew to connect with him. She started to sing along with the song and with each verse, sang a little bit louder. This had always provoked Robert to sing along, mostly to keep her in key or to get her to sing the right words.
Monique had a unique gift for rhyming and changing the lyrics to any song. It was her way of communicating a message. There was the time when her daughter needed to clean her room, and she used the song “When You Wish Upon a Star” but changed the lyrics to “If you do not clean your room, you’ll be waking to your doom...” And after her rhyming couplet, like a performer in a Vaudeville show, Monique would stop and hold her hand out, to encourage her audience to finish her thought and sing back to her. So that day her daughter completed the song by singing, “Yes I know, that dirty socks just...do...not...bloom...”
Monique leaned forward in anticipation, turned up the volume and looked in the mirror. But just as she did, she caught Robert impatiently sighing and rolling his eyes. Wham! Another door slammed shut and the hope of any clever rhymes quickly escaped her.
“Oh sorry, Robert, I guess that was too loud. Sorry!”
She tried to hide her hurt as she turned the sound down and for the next minute she just sang quietly along with Stevie Nicks.
When it came to the part where Stevie stopped singing and spo
ke, “I don’t know” to the question about “being able to handle the seasons of one’s life,” Monique also stopped and made another attempt to reach out. “I love those lines. It’s so true, isn’t it, Bobby, that the older we get, the more it seems we don’t know?”
Robert finally broke his silence. “Really, Monique? Of all the songs, you have to pick this one? This one? Do you even know what that song is called?”
“Yes, it’s called...” Monique’s face went pale instantly. Oh my God! Landslide...The song is called...“Landslide,” she whispered slowly to herself.
“I’m sorry, Bobby...I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking—It’s just that I thought since you are talking today about—Oh, I’m sorry, Bobby—you’re right, I wasn’t thinking!” She turned off the CD player and looked in the mirror, smiling apologetically, but Robert just looked straight through her with the same emotionless stare that had masked his face for the past six months.
During those months, as Robert was drifting farther and farther away from her, Monique had desperately tried everything she could to reach out to her husband and pull him back to her. Now it seemed that even their song, the old failsafe—the trusty emergency lifeline that had rescued them many times before—had failed to conjure up even the tiniest bit of a connection between them.
Keep smiling, she said to herself. I know today will help him. I know it will! I know it will!
She gave Robert one last look in the mirror, trying to hold on to her smiling disguise despite the stabbing pain of losing one more thing that they had always shared.
Monique drove on as the silence deepened, listening only to the rhythm of the windshield wipers beating against the snowy wet rain and, from the rear-view mirror, she watched her husband drift even farther away.
3. 15 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE
“Look, I came to see you because my wife got a call from our insurance company and they said they hadn’t received an assessment from you yet.”
Seema stood up from behind her desk to greet Robert. “Hello, Robert.”
Robert ignored her. “So, it seems that I have to do this.”
“Hello, Robert!”
Because Page 1
