He clung to Henry and cried out his broken heart.
The day Eliot was buried, Michele stood like a statue watching the coffin being lowered into the ground. There was nothing real about it. In fact, it wasn’t happening to her. She was watching a young woman dressed in black, standing there with a little boy…It wasn’t happening to her, not to Michele…not to Steven…
After the services were over they went back to the house, which was full of people who had come to pay their respects. Fran and Paul Kaufman were the last to leave.
After Steven and a sedated Michele had been put to bed, Ben and Henry sat silently as Juanita said to Doris, “Ben and I thought maybe we’d take Michele over to our place but she refuses to go. In fact, she won’t leave the house. Doris, I don’t want to upset you, but I think we’ve got a very sick young woman on our hands. She was a little too quiet today.”
Henry said, “That happens after tremendous shock. But of course she can’t be alone, so Doris will stay for a while until we feel that she’s ready to make a change of some kind. Then we’ll all decide what’s best.”
“You can count on me for anything. Now, is there anything I can do for you before I leave? I think I should get Ben home,” Juanita said.
Ben spoke now for the first time. “No parent should live to bury his own child.” He got up and walked out of the house without another word.
Juanita said goodnight and followed him…
Doris stayed for a month, and Ben and Juanita came up to the big house every night. Michele seemed composed and resigned now.
One evening Ben stood in front of the fire in Eliot’s favorite room and said, “What do you want to do, Michele?”
She replied almost inaudibly. “I want to stay here.”
“But you can’t live here alone, Michele, in this big house,” Juanita said.
“Yes, I can…it’s all I have left of Eliot and I can’t leave.”
“Why don’t you come and stay with us for a little while, or go home with your mother and father for a bit. It would do you good to get away—”
She shook her head. “No, I’m going to stay here.”
“Michele,” Ben said, “your mother can’t stay forever and I don’t think it’s good for you to be here alone.”
“That’s what I’ve decided to do.”
Juanita said, “Well, if you’ve thought about it, Michele, and that’s what you’d like, then Ben and I will be here every day.”
Michele just sat, making no reply.
When they were on the plane going home, Doris felt she shouldn’t be leaving, that Michele still needed her. When she got home she called two and three times a day. There was a peculiar serenity about Michele, and she wished she felt the same way. If only she could convince herself that Michele had come to terms with her tragedy…
Two weeks after Doris returned home, she received a phone call from Juanita. “Doris, I don’t know how to tell you this, but…Michele is in the psychiatric ward at the hospital.”
Somehow she’d known all along that Michele’s reaction had been unnaturally calm. “Tell me what happened, Juanita.”
“Well, I wanted to spare you this, but she simply went berserk. A few days ago she left Steven and drove into Reno. Then Chang Lee called and told us that she hadn’t been home for a few days—”
Doris let out a gasp. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“Michele was found wandering around in quite a state. She was incoherent…dazed. She was picked up and taken to the psychiatric ward. Ben’s been in Reno for the last several days so that he can be near her.”
“Where’s Steven now?”
“With us, but I think you’d better come up so we can decide what to do.”
She was met at the airport by Ben, who silently drove her to the hospital.
When Doris walked into Michele’s room, she was trembling very badly. Michele didn’t recognize her. She took hold of Michele’s hand. “Michele, I’m here. Darling?”
Michele looked at her vacantly.
“Darling, it’s me, mama.”
Michele didn’t respond.
God, Doris thought, if I have any strength give it to me now, please.
The psychiatrist was frank with her. Michele’s breakdown was so complete that it was going to take a very long time for her to recover.
“What do you suggest we do, doctor?”
“Well, as I said, it’s not only going to take a long time, but she’ll have to be watched carefully. This is difficult, Mrs. Levin, but we really have a suicidal patient on our hands.”
“You mean that she tried to—” Doris couldn’t finish.
“Yes. We don’t know how many barbiturates she took, but the clerk at the hotel said he found two empty bottles of Seconal. It was close for a while, but at least we’ve got her to this point.”
“Obviously she’ll have to stay here until Mr. Burns and I decide what to do…”
Doris stayed the rest of the day with Michele, then drove out to the ranch with Ben. After Steven had gone to bed, she sat with Ben and Juanita in the livingroom.
“Ben and I have talked this over carefully, Doris, and we’ll go along with whatever you decide to do. You have our support on this in any way you need it. But let us make a suggestion—which you’re free to reject if you think we’re wrong. You can’t stay here indefinitely, you have other obligations, and obviously you’re going to want to be with Michele. We thought maybe the best thing is to take her to a sanitarium where you’d be able to see her, and that would mean someplace near San Francisco. As for Steven, you know how Ben and I feel about him, but we’re not so sure this is the best place for him. The adjustment is tough…In fact he’s been going up to the east acres every day. Ben found him sitting in the snow, by himself right near the tree—”
Doris interrupted. “I really think I could stand a drink, Ben.”
When he handed her a bourbon and sat down again, he picked up Juanita’s thought. “Doris, what Juanita is trying to say is that we think the best thing that could happen to Steven is to get away from here. He’s got to get away, much as we love him. And it seems the best place would be with you and Henry. I think you have the kind of stability he needs now.”
Doris took a long sip of the drink…
The next day she spoke to the psychiatrist and asked when Michele could leave and fly to California, to be in another hospital. She explained what had been discussed the night before.
“As a matter of fact, that strikes me as a wise decision. There’s a fine place in Belmont, about thirty miles from where you live. We believe she’s going to come out of this eventually, though we don’t know to what degree. And when she does, she’ll need the security of her family.”
“When do you think we could take her?”
“Probably in the next few days. However, I suggest that one of our staff nurses go along with you until she’s all settled.”
“Do you think we should take Steven at the same time?”
“No, I’d suggest he stay till you get Michele settled, then, as you all decided, have him come to live with you and Dr. Levin.” …
It was a silent, vague Michele who sat on the plane to San Francisco. From time to time Doris tried speaking to her. No response.
If ever there was a moment of truth in Doris’ life it was at Belmont Hospital. Signing the papers to commit Michele was one of the grimmest tasks she had ever faced. After seeing Michele settled into a room she kissed her good-by, then walked down the corridor and out into the sunshine and made the drive home in a daze.
Doris and Henry waited for Steven to come out of his room
Juanita and Ben had had a dreadful time trying to tell him that he was going to be living with his mother’s parents.
“I’m not going,” he had screamed. “You’re my grandparents and I’m going to stay here.”
Ben tried to reason with him. “Look, Steven, you know that as much as we love you, your other grandparents do too. We thin
k it would be good for you to have a change for a little while.”
“I’m nearly seven years old and I can make up my own mind what I want to do. If you don’t want me, I can get along. I can go live in my dad’s house.”
Juanita said quietly, “Steven, it’s not whether we want you, it’s a question of what’s best for you. And besides, you’re going to want to be near your mother—”
“No, I don’t. I don’t want to see her at all. I hate her.”
“Don’t let me ever hear you say that, Steven. Now you act like a man,” Ben said sternly.
“But she went away and left me—”
“Your mother didn’t leave you. She’s very sick and I think you’re old enough to know about it. Your mother’s in the hospital, a sanitarium—”
“That’s for crazy people—”
“Well, Steven, you’re not quite the man I thought you were. Your father would certainly have been disappointed to hear what you just said.”
He didn’t answer. Instead he turned his back on them and pulled the covers up, under his chin.
Juanita and Ben were up late that night, talking about the boy.
“If I thought this was the place for him, that’s where I’d have him,” Juanita said. “But I know in my heart he’s never going to get over this if he doesn’t get away.”
“You’re right. Besides, Doris is the only one of us who’s really young enough to be able to handle a little boy. What is she…going on fifty? Still, it’s not going to be easy for them, even if it is the best thing for the boy.”
Ben’s observations proved all too true. Doris and Henry did feel their inadequacy to handle the situation. Steven had been raised with Ben and Juanita from the cradle. Although he had always been affectionate toward his other grandparents, he resented them for taking him away from the people and the home that he knew best…
When Ben drove them all to the airport, Steven sat sullenly in the back of the car, looking out the window. Ben deliberately avoided the road going past the big house.
When the announcement was made for boarding, Steven looked up at Ben. Biting his lip hard so as not to cry, he said “You’re not going to forget to call me, are you, gramps?”
Ben looked down at him. Jesus, he looked just like Eliot. “Well, of course I’m going to call.”
“And you’re going to come and see me this summer?”
“We’ll talk about that, Steve.”
It seemed no one really wanted him, Steven thought. When he looked at Juanita, he could no longer hold back the tears. “I don’t want to leave, grams, I don’t want to go.”
“Steven, your other grandmother and grandfather are just as important as we are, and they love you just as much. Now, remember what I told you the other night, that this is rough on all of us and that we all have to cooperate. We think it’s what your dad would have wanted—”
Without another word, he released himself and walked down the ramp and onto the plane, leaving Doris and Henry behind him.
Doris looked at Juanita. “Thank you for everything. You’re a remarkable woman.”
“So are you. And unless I miss my guess, you’re going to see it through. You’re a strong lady, Doris.”
The two women embraced, then Doris went to Ben and put her arms around him. They had both lost a child, one in life and one in death.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
DORIS’ LIFE REQUIRED A complete readjustment. Before Steven had come she would write into the early hours of the morning. Her sleeping habits were so erratic that she had often indulged herself and slept until ten. But that came abruptly to an end.
Now she woke Steven at seven in the morning, fixed breakfast for him, then drove him to school, and at two-thirty she dropped whatever she was writing and picked him up. Once again she became consumed with the PTA, Sunday School, the orthodontist and shopping for clothes.
Because of the time she spent away from the typewriter doing other things, she now wrote at a frantic pace and was lucky if she slept three to four hours a night. Her mind seemed befuddled and when she proofread her work she wondered how any of it made any sense. It seemed she was now relying on a pat formula. Nothing creative…just names, places, a few variations on the same themes. For the first time she was ashamed of what she was doing and she submitted her work without pride. But that was really the least of her problems.
After a year and a half, Dr. Weingarten felt Michele should begin to gradually learn how to live once again in the outside world. When patients stayed too long in the security of an institution such as Belmont, very often they were reluctant to leave. So he advised Doris that Michele should go home for short periods of time.
On her first visit home, Michele was very nervous and unsure of herself. When Doris suggested it might be nice to lunch out, Michele refused. She didn’t like crowds and noises frightened her. But the greatest of her anxieties was Steven. Although he was a painful reminder of Eliot, she wanted to try to establish some rapport with him. But Steven’s resistance left her feeling even more unsure of herself. He was difficult and belligerent toward her, and Doris was beginning to worry that there was no way to reach him. No matter how hard Michele tried, she couldn’t break through Steven’s rejection. The tension became so great that Michele often begged to go back after being home for just a few hours. She just couldn’t be the kind of mother Steven wanted.
When Doris returned from her visits to Michele, Steven glared at her at the dinner table as though the visit to Michele was a disloyalty to him.
Finally, Doris spoke to Henry about sending Steven to see a child psychiatrist, and he agreed it would probably benefit them all.
It did. After six months the tension and overt resentment began to lessen. Steven assumed the attitude of a well-behaved boarder, and while Doris wished he could be happier with them she was grateful that he didn’t seem as angry as he had.
At least it was now a period of greater peace. Michele seemed to be making progress, and each time Doris visited her she noticed a decided change in her. When she left for the thirty-mile drive home, now it was with a glimmer of hope.
The years were moving on, and although Doris realized she still knew nothing of what went on in Steven’s mind, she was glad their lives had become more compatible.
They were preparing for his bar mitzvah now, and Doris wanted it to be a very special occasion for him. She invited Ben and Juanita, who arrived two days before the ceremony. But during their stay, Steven had as little to do with them as possible. It was as though he was punishing them for having rejected him…
Doris and Henry sat in the same pew they’d occupied for Gary’s bar mitzvah, and in spite of—or perhaps because of—the problems they’d had with Steven, Doris was very proud when she looked at him during the service. He was magnificent. He neither stammered nor stuttered, and he made not a single error. At the end of the service Steven walked to the lectern to deliver his speech.
He looked down at Doris and Henry, and then at Ben and Juanita. Suddenly the speech he had prepared seemed false and somehow he couldn’t bring himself to say it. The whole evening seemed unreal. He had had three years of training in Judaism, but he didn’t feel anything about it, it all meant nothing to him. He resented his mother for not being there, although he understood the reasons, he felt that she was selfish and thought too much about herself. Without thinking, he blurted out, “I wish I could honestly say I did this for my grandparents, but I didn’t. They taught me that today I would become a man, so I guess I have to be honest. This was in memory of my father.” With that, Steven took off his tallis and walked from the pulpit. The rabbi awkwardly continued the service.
Doris and Henry were crushed, and Ben wanted to horsewhip Steven. He maintained his composure only out of respect for Doris and Henry. Somehow they all got through the reception, but Doris had to close her ears to the whispers…What an ungrateful little boy, how terribly sad Michele couldn’t have been here…that Doris and Henry had to assume the re
sponsibility of raising a young child…Doris ignored it all. She had too many other problems to worry herself over what other people thought…
After seven long years of being in and out of Belmont, Michele was ready to leave. The day before she was to be released, Dr. Weingarten phoned Doris and asked if they might get together.
His opinion was that what Michele needed most at this moment was to build a life of her own and resume the responsibility for her child. Although she was going to need the love and support of her family, she had to build up her own strengths.
“Dr. Weingarten, I think for the past seven years you’ve been trying to tell me something, that maybe you feel that a part of Michele’s inability to cope is basically my fault.”
“How do you feel about that?”
She thought for a long moment. “I don’t really know. It’s strange, I raised both my children the same way, loved them equally, but Gary has a strength that Michele lacks. Maybe I let Michele think that the world was a safe, warm place like home, maybe I overprotected her.”
“Do you think it was because of your childhood?”
“Yes. Strange, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“My own childhood was not too happy. I was completely dominated by my mother, and one would think I should have grown up a beaten person. At one point in my life that was true. At one time I had the most tremendous inferiority complex even you could imagine, and it took me a long time to get over it. But with a lot of hard work, on my own, I not only did but I’ve come to feel secure within myself. Until now, anyway. What have I done to make Michele unable to face her realities?”
“I thought you said you didn’t know if you’d done anything.”
“Well, I do know I’ve made mistakes, and I don’t want to go on making them.”
“But what makes you feel you were responsible for Michele’s weaknesses?”
“In one way or another children are the by-product of their parents—”
“True, but parents aren’t quite that omnipotent, they’re not totally responsible for the way their children turn out. And it isn’t just one parent who forms a child either. Michele also has a father, who, I’ve observed, is a very kind man. But during some of the discussions we’ve had, I’ve found that he has some weaknesses. In fact, Mrs. Levin, I believe he leans on you too. But that’s getting off the track. The point is that you can’t continue to let Michele lean on you. The best thing you can do is to allow—encourage—Michele to take up her life. Never mind who’s responsible for what…she needs to get on with being a mother. Let’s all of us watch her grow.”
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