It’s your fourth day in here, no, third, it was day before yesterday Baker brought you in and you’re starting to lose your temper. You don’t try to escape for fear they’ll sick the hospital thugs on you, throw you back in the cubbyhole. The nurse said Klaus would be back in to see you today at 3:00 p.m. That’s your appointment. In five minutes. All day you’ve been putting in time, figuring how the hell to get yourself out of this. Even called Baker; tried yelling at him. Then you appealed to his Mighty Mouse sensibilities, ones that might rescue. Told him that Klaus had threatened you with never seeing Grace again, threatened you with being here indefinitely.
He had shit-all to reply, really. Baker—why bother. Said he was sorry and that he was powerless at this juncture. Then you started to cry and told him that there was no way that son of a bitch was keeping you from your baby. He said a lot of nothing and then he had to go. So you spent the next five hours puttering and trying to think up a plan. A plan, a plan, my Librium for a plan. That shock therapy guy gave you ten of them this morning, brought them in on the q.t. and dropped them into your palm like Smarties. Like Christmas. They don’t do much, but they do soothe the shakes and twitches, might help you feel more human in the face of Herr Shrink—and speak of the devil—Germans, nothing if not punctual.
He says, Hello, Mrs. Hoffman, how are you today?
Shit, no plan. So you say, Fine. How ’bout yourself? … Ah, I’d like to talk with you about something, though. I’ given a lot of thought to it and I’ve decided that this isn’t the kind of place conducive to, uh, getting better, healing, for me and I’d like to discuss being an outpatient.
He jogs his head and rolls his eyes to the side before he looks at you, and when he does, it’s as if he’s looking at someone so nitwitted and swine-like, it’s an annoyance to cast his pearls before you. Look, Mrs. Hoffman, you better take a good hard look at yourself and what you’ve become. If you don’t make some changes and pull up your socks, you will never see your daughter again. And that’s not a threat, it’s a fact.
Your heart is crawling into your throat like something from a horror movie. If he’d just stop saying that, if everyone would just stop holding your child for ransom. Christ, now you’re drizzling in front of him. He thinks he’s trumped you now, that you’re crying in remorse, that you’re broke like a scrawny dusty old nag. He says, Cry all you want, Mrs. Hoffman, if that helps. Realize, though, that you’re not getting out of here and things aren’t going to progress until you make some attempt to co-operate.
You wipe your eyes. Christ, you’re a bastard. Well, how is it then that I’m supposed to get out of here?
You get out when your physician signs you out. And I’m your physician and I won’t be signing you out until I see enough change in you to warrant that.
He’s your physician. Who died and made him your physician? How ’bout this: Well, what if I were to tell you that I am releasing you as my physician? His ice eyes go black. How about if I were to tell you that I will no longer be needing your services and I’ll be finding another doctor to care for me, how would that suit you?
His chiselled face droops ever so flaccid, and you, my good woman, have become your own Mighty Mouse and, looking at this man, you wish he had a twisty dark moustache because it seems he is this far from clenching his fists and saying Drat, foiled again. But no, he has regained his composure and pushed the pen back in his breast pocket. That is certainly your prerogative, Mrs. Hoffman, he says, and walks out the door.
Hoffman, Anne Eilleen
7.11.74 (T. Baker) I received a call this morning from a nurse in the psych ward at the VGH who said that Mrs. H. had signed herself out of the hospital against the wishes of her doctors and despite the fact that first tests regarding her liver showed something was very wrong. I subsequently received a call from Mrs. Sugarman who said Grace had come to visit her and had just left when Mrs. H. came in. I called Mrs. Hood who had not known that Grace was up to old neighborhood and asked her to keep Grace within sight for a while and ask her not to go up to her friend’s in her mother’s building.
I called Sheryl Sugarman who said Mrs. H. had staggered in, and that Mrs. Pong had fainted, then gone off to see her doctor (apparently afraid of what might happen with Mrs. H. back). Mrs. Png told Sheryl Sugarman not to give the key (a spare) back to Mrs. H. but I advised her that she had to as the apartment was still Mrs. H’s. I also asked her to send Grace back to the foster home if she re-appeared and told her there was probably little more I could do to help Mrs. H.
8.11.74. (T. Baker) I had a long talk with Grace, both about her mother’s medical condition and about the necessity of her staying away from her old neighborhood. I told her that her mother had signed herself out of hospital despite blood sugar and liver problems. I also asked her not to go up to visit Sheryl Sugarman or Alice or any of her friends up there until I have been able to get her mother into a program. We discussed this for a while and she agreed to stay in her new neighborhood. I also asked about her possibly attending a new school (Edith Cavell) both because of possible interference by her mother at Wolfe and because Edith Cavell is closer to the Hoods’. Grace really liked this idea but largely because she does not get along with her present teacher who is apparently a strict disciplinarian and has been very strict with Grace not realizing Grace’s home situation.
9.11.74. (T. Baker) Call to Mrs. Sugarman: Mrs. H. still drinking. Is cleaning her apt. some, feeling that this is all she needs to do in order to get Grace back.
Call to Dr. Klaus: Mrs. H. has liver impairment, will become jaundiced and may go into coma if she does not stop drinking. She had refused to accept Dr. Klaus as her doctor (she says he is “too strict”) and once Dr. Pantern discharged her from Psych. Dept. as totally uncooperative, Mrs. H. simply signed herself out. Dr. Klaus stated strongly that Mrs. H. was incapable of caring for Grace. Said there was nothing more he could do.
Visit to Mrs. H. Still drinking. Refuses to see Dr. Klaus or Dr. Henighan, refused to enter any residential program. She had seen Dr. Person (unknown) and had gotten some pills (unclear what). She did not believe Dr. Klaus’ test reust results and had gone to the lab at 750 West Broadway for other tests. She said she had no food – I promised to return later with a voucher.
I next spoke with Mrs. Sugarman: She explained that Mrs. H. had broken a window in her apamtment, had been banging on walls and doors in the building after midnight, etc. Apparently a bootlegger in the area supplies Mrs. H. Also Mrs. H. said, on Sunday night, she was going to get Grace and take off into the interior. I picked Grace up after school as I was afraid Mrs. H. would show up, took her to her foster home and there apprehended under section K. I also arranged to have Grace transferred to Edith Cavell effective Wednesday November 12.
I later visited Mrs. H. and explained that I had apprehended Grace, going through the reasons carefully. She was still in a stupor and became very maudlin, etc. I left a grocery voucher and the names of counsellors to call at some rehab centers.
12.11.74 (T. Baker) Grace taken to Edith Cavell in am. Grace was a bit nervous but overall happy with the change, as both Wendy and Lilly attend Edith Cavell. Grace told me of a dream she had, where a “boyfriend” of her mother’s chased her down a back alley that was filled with beer bottles (like her mother’s apartment).
Arrangements made with Mrs. Hood (regarding Graces’ baton lessons, visits with friends, scout group, swimming lessons, etc.) to insure as far as possible that Mrs. H. does not try to pick Grace up. Mrs. H. has been informed that she cannot have contact with Grace until she sobers up.
14.11.74 (T. Baker) Visit to Mrs. H. She ws not at home but her friend Doreen was there. She told me that Mrs. H. is in a deep depression over Grace. She feels it is her fault and has tried to help Mrs. H. by cleaning the apartment. Most things had been put away and the floor had been washed. She began to explain that she had called the police that night NOT because of Grace but because Mrs. H. had taken “about 15 different kinds of pills and was dri
nking like a fish.” She had been afraid that Mrs. H. would kill herself. I explained what I had been trying to do – especially in getting Mrs. H. into a program for her alcoholism. Also that our purpose was not to keep Grace forever but only until Mrs. H. had shown that she was managing and capable of caring for Grace. I aso clearly explained that Grace was now a child-before-the-court under the guardianship of the Superintendant of Child Protection. I explained because Sheryl S. had called this morning to say that Mrs. H. was trying to get someone to drive her around to all the schools in the area to try to get Grace at noon hour.
Called later to Edith Cavell – the principal will arrange things so that Grace will not be out at lunch hour.
17.11.74 (T. Baker) Mrs. Pong called to complain again about Mrs. H. who has been banging on doors etc., keeping people awake. I referred her to the Rentals man as there is really nothing more I can do. Apparently Mrs. H. is still drinking.
Grace Ten
NOVEMBER 1974
TODD BAKER didn’t have much to say about it all. He said he never told me “a few days,” that I decided that. That he said a little while because “three months is a little while,” and that I had a habit of interpreting things to suit my needs then acting surprised when stuff didn’t get delivered as for my expectations, or something. He said my mum was going to need more than a few days to get on her feet and I had to be supportive by doing my best. That my mum had an unpredictable mind right now and if I wanted to really help I would switch schools, work hard and try to make things run smoothly instead of fight them every step of the way. I just said forget-it in my head and tried to think about how at least I wouldn’t have to have Anus in my life now.
The worst part about the new school was having to walk there every morning with Wendy and Lilly. Mostly they talked about being a Witness. By around my first week, I knew Lilly was sick of me and couldn’t wait till February. And then as soon as someone said anything about time and waiting for stuff, Wendy started going on about Armageddon, and how you never know when God’s wrath is going to come, in three months or three minutes, to kill the ones that are wrecking the earth. That was in Revelations; she was always saying everything about Revelations.
It was kind of weird about Wendy: it was like how you think a bear is going to be slow and dumb, but really it’s super-fast and kills you—well, I thought Wendy being thick all over and moving slower meant she couldn’t get me or something, and yappy Lilly was the one to watch out for, but it wasn’t Lilly who was giving me nightmares now.
Wendy told me on the way to school that there were signs every day that Jesus was coming; that for now, Satan controlled the earth but there would be a great war and the world would be destroyed, not because of a flood, because God said he’d never do it that way again, but probably nuclear war, she figured. “Because it says, in the time of the end, the king of the South, that’s the Eagle, and that’s for sure the States, will engage in a pushing with the king of the North, the Bear, and that’s Russia. That’s how the world’ll end and you can tell now how they’re going to have World War Three. And plus all the famine and earthquakes and false prophets—those are the signs, you know. Just turn on TV and there’s all these people pretending they’re Christians but they’re not—Satan is their lord.” I thought of Josh’s living room and the healings on TV. I could hear him giggling and giggling. Wendy’s voice came loud again. “Satan’s like a prostitute, you know, luring God’s creatures to worldly religions like Catholics and stuff so they think they’ll be saved when Armageddon comes, but really they’ll be destroyed. God will once again rule the earth and remember his servants and resurrect them.” She took a breath, did up her coat more and looked up at the rain dripping off the trees.
Lilly rolled her eyes. “I don’t think it’ll be a bomb cuz that would wreck the whole planet.”
“So what, there’ll be a new heaven on earth. God’ll just fix it and the ones who were his servants will be resurrected.” Wendy’s lips pushed up under her nose the way her mum’s did.
“So. I’m just saying. I think it’ll be a different way. I think maybe it’s gonna be The Killer Bees. It even said in the paper that Killer Bees are coming.”
“Oh yeah, Lilly, like some bees are going to get all the wicked. Prime Minister Trudeau isn’t gonna get it with a bee sting—duh!”
“Shut up. You don’t know everything. It’s not going to be a dumb war!”
“Do you listen? Ever? It says in black and white that there’s going to be a war—rulers and armies of every nation will be assembled in opposition to God. Must you contradict me at every turn?”
“You’re not my mum, OK? Must you copy Mum at every turn?”
I cut in, “Well, where does it say you get to have animals?”
Lilly glared. Wendy drooped her eyelids at me again and said it slow as if I was retarded. “It says in Isaiah, it says how leopards and sheep will live together and lions will eat straw like cows, and babies can play with snakes and not be afraid. God said, that’s who said.”
Lilly joined in, her eyes all glinty and excited. “I can’t wait! I hope it’s tomorrow, it could be in five minutes, you know. Birds will come on my finger—I wanna owl or a hawk like the picture in homeroom at school. Heaven will have streets of gold and be way better than like it is here now. There’ll be everything.”
I didn’t get what the big deal about gold streets was. “Will there be TV?”
Lilly frowned. “I don’t know. Prob’ly. I’ll ask my mum.”
That night, the Hoods brought me to a Watchtower meeting in someone’s apartment. There were nine or ten of us there and everybody was called “brother” or “sister” something. I wanted to join in just so someone would call me Sister Grace, but kids got their regular name. Everyone had a copy of this week’s Watchtower, a little pamphlet with a school kind of lesson and then at the bottom of each page there’d be questions. But it was super-easy, because the question had the same number beside it as the paragraph with the answer in it. You didn’t even have to figure out anything or look for it; they told you. So anyhow, Wendy and Lilly had underlined, in pencil crayon, the answers in their pamphlets, and everyone else’s was the same. After each right answer, the leader, whose apartment we were in, would nod and say “yes, good” in a low sort of brown-sugar-and-butter-sandwich kind of voice, as if we were all little kids. He sounded nice, though, and I wanted someone to say “yes, good” at me. The next question was whether or not it’s possible to be neutral about God and still be saved during Armageddon. I grabbed my Watchtower and looked fast for the right paragraph, raising my hand at the same time. “Phyllis,” the leader said. I waited. He looked at me, then smiled gently. “Do you have the answer, Phyllis?” Lilly bursted out laughing.
“My name is Grace.” I felt stupid all the sudden for trying to be one of them. Lilly mumbled something mean I couldn’t hear. The leader ducked his chin and apologized. “I don’t know why I thought your name was Phyllis. Grace is such a pretty name.” Lilly whispered, “Exactly,” and started shaking from holding in her laughs. The leader told me to go on in his yes-good voice. I read, “Matt twelve-thirty—” and Lilly nearly blew up from giggling inside. Mrs. Hood leaned into my ear. “Matthew, chapter twelve, verse thirty.” My neck burned, but I said what she said and read, “He that is not on my side is against me and he that does not gather with me scatters.” I looked to the leader. He said, “That’s right. Number two: what will happen to young children at Armageddon?”
I laid in bed that night, wondering how come no one ever told me this before, that God was going to slaughter us all for our sins. Us all who didn’t believe this stuff, didn’t serve Him, didn’t go door to door and spread the word. And if it would hurt. And what will happen to young children at Armageddon? I wasn’t sure if I still counted as a young child. What if Mum was left by mistake and God just slaughtered me? What then, what would she do, all alone? She’d cry by herself without me. I tried to think of a plan and prayed for God to
kill us together so we wouldn’t be scared or lonely.
Todd Baker took me to The White Spot for lunch and asked me who I’d like to spend my birthday evening with. My mum. He said that I knew that wasn’t going to happen, that she wasn’t well enough just yet, maybe in a couple weeks, after she moves, he could arrange us a belated birthday together. “Grace, it’s not going to change anything if you sit there and glare at me—it’s enough that you’ve insisted on being in your old neighbourhood this past while, knowing she’s only a couple blocks away. Now, I know your baton lessons are important to you and your friends and swimming and all that stuff, so I work around it, but don’t push. The fact of the matter is, you’re not going to get everything you want every time you want it. Maybe you got away with that before, but not now.”
I plinked my teaspoon against the saucer a couple times. Todd frowned and I dropped it in my teacup. “If you’re trying to say I’m spoiled, I am not. I just wanna see my mum on my birthday. You didn’t have to leave all your friends and your mother and your school and everything.” I thumped my chin in my hands and my elbows on the table so he could see for himself I was upset. Except for one elbow caught the edge of the saucer and sent all my tea-stuff flying across the table.
“Grace!”
“It was an accident. I didn’t do it on purpose.” The waitress ran over with a cloth, saying things like “oopsy daisy” and “don’t worry, happens to me all the time.” Todd sighed hard and stared at me. I watched the waitress fling the cloth around the table. It always felt worse when someone felt sorry for you like how she was now. Like the way Anus acted when I cleared my junk out of homeroom my last day at my old school; she took me aside and said, “Grace, I’m so terribly sorry. Why didn’t you tell me what was going on at home? why you had to leave early the other day?” and I shrugged at her. “Of course, it all makes sense now why you told the class on the first day that you’d gone to all those different schools.”
Going Down Swinging Page 23
