The Light in the Wound

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The Light in the Wound Page 3

by Christine Brae


  As I walked through the normal checkpoints, no questions were asked. My passport was stamped, and I trudged along on the way to the luggage carousel. I was now feeling very nervous, all alone — I’ve never done anything like this before. I was excited, but scared at the same time. What if she didn’t want me? Where would I go? It didn’t matter. I was free.

  I was drenched in sweat by the time I pulled out my third suitcase and placed it on my cart. I pushed through people and carts and stood at a taxi line that was one hundred people long. It took me an hour to finally get on my way, now wary of the taxi driver who could sense that I would never know where he was taking me. I gave him the address, which was in the most exclusive neighborhood in the city, and there I sat, on edge the entire time.

  As I looked outside the window at the familiar streets, my thoughts took me back to how this homecoming came about. I was sent to boarding school to escape the scandal brought about by my mother’s suicide attempt. What started out as a trip to the States for the summer holiday, ended up as three years of loneliness, rebellion and isolation.

  One morning while on vacation in Canada, my grandfather invited me to go for a drive with him. I was silently observant as we drove through an elegant neighborhood and reached a beautiful wooded area high up on a hill. We entered through a tall black gate, drove on a short brick-paved driveway and stopped right in front of a huge and imposing stone structure. Above the arch-shaped doorway, a brushed nickel sign simply read, Convent of the Sacred Heart. The building looked just like the front of a castle, complete with barred windows and a round tower. A middle-aged nun dressed in a navy blue habit met us at the door.

  “Good morning, Mr. Holtzer. I’m Sister Marybeth. Welcome to our school. It is so nice to meet you,” greeted the nun as she shook hands with my grandfather. Sister Marybeth had a very heavy French accent. Hmmm. “This must be Isabel,” she continued, “what a lovely girl you are.”

  What is it about being oblivious to everything around you when you’re this age? I don’t remember exactly what they talked about, but the nun seemed quite excited to show us around the premises.

  “This is our library where we have two study periods every day. The girls love staying in here because it feels like a lounge where they can read books, study or listen to music.” She noted this as she waved her hand around like a game show host. We were led through endless long, dark hallways and peeked into many old, cold and dank classrooms. “This is going to be your classroom, dear,” she announced.

  More walking. The school was quiet except for our heavy and discordant footsteps slapping across the wooden floors. We stopped by the nun’s office for a while, and I watched with suspicion as my grandfather slowly wrote a check and handed it to the quite impressed nun. When we finally reached the top floor, she motioned for me to step inside a room with rows and rows of beds on both sides of the windows.

  “Here is the dorm you will be staying in. Private rooms are reserved for the higher grades. You will be able to have a private room next year, Isabel. In the meantime, you will love sharing a room with the other girls your age. They know we have a new student coming and are very excited to meet you.”

  There I stood, as confused as ever, absorbing what she had just said. Am I the new student they are talking about? And then suddenly, it hit me. I wasn’t going home. I didn’t say goodbye to my friends, to my mother, to my sisters. My legs felt like molasses as I slowly trudged back to the car.

  “Isabel, your grandmother and I think it’s best for you to remain here when we leave to go back home next week,” my grandfather began as I stared out of the passenger side window. I desperately tried with all my might to remain stoic about what had just happened in the school. “With what’s going on at home, your mother’s problems and all, you have a better chance of living a normal life away from everything at the moment.”

  “I’ll miss my sisters,” I muttered softly, wanting to comply with his wishes but hoping he would send them over to be with me.

  “Your sisters are living with your grandparents on your father’s side. As part of the custody agreement, our only responsibility is you at this point. We want you to have the best possible opportunities in life. This is what we are offering you.” He half-replied to my statement.

  “Who’ll look after Pepe?” My beautiful Pepe. A gift from my stepfather. My one and only friend. I turned my head toward him, my tear stricken face now no longer a secret. His demeanor remained formal, but there was warmth in his eyes that reflected some compassion.

  “If you keep your grades up, as I am sure you will, we will make sure to continue boarding him. We will get someone from the club to ride him every day.”

  “When will I be able to go home again?”

  “This is your life now, Isabel, there is no choice in the matter. You are going to be studying abroad. Your grandmother and I will be here to visit you six months during the year when we look over our investments. In the meantime, be a good girl and just believe that we know what’s best for you.”

  Forty minutes later, I was there. Safe and sound. The exhaustion from the trip overtook my senses and I felt way older than the sixteen years I had accumulated in my life.

  “I think this is it, miss.” The taxi driver turned his head to address me.

  I wiped my tears on the sleeve of my blouse as I gathered up my things and watched as the taxi driver sped away. My mother’s house was perched on a hill and enclosed by a massive white steel gate. It was a solid gate, so I couldn’t really get a good peek inside. I could see a line of cars in the driveway, which meant that people were home. I nervously rang the doorbell and a security guard ran to open it.

  “Hi, I’m Isabel. Is Claudia home?”

  “Yes ma’am, she is. Who may I say you are?”

  Ugh. New man in her life, new home, new people. They don’t know me.

  “I’m her daughter, Isabel.”

  Seconds later, my mother came rushing out. “Isabel Francesca! What are you doing here?” She enveloped me in a hug. It had been three years since I felt her warmth, her touch.

  “I left Grandma and Grandpa. Can I stay with you?”

  “What do you mean, Francesca? What happened?” she asked, as she backed away from our embrace but kept her hands on my shoulders.

  “It was just so hard for me to stay,” I replied, trying to choke back tears from having to open up about the past few years.

  “How did you get here? Do they know that you left?”

  “No, I got a summer job and bought my own ticket home. They’re traveling around the U.S. right now.”

  “Oh, Francesca, what a daring thing to do. You could have called me if you needed my help. Of course, you can stay. This is your home too. Mellie, take Ms. Isabel’s stuff inside. Clear out the guest bedroom and unpack her things there.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Which sheets should we use?”

  “Take the new ones I bought in Europe and the new comforter in the closet.”

  Mellie, my nanny, a familiar face. “Mellie!” I exclaimed as I rushed toward her to give her a hug.

  Mellie nervously took a step back to avoid my arms as my mother said under her breath, “Isabel, we don’t get too close to the help.”

  I ignored my mother’s warning and folded her into my arms. It was brief and quick, but I wanted Mellie to know how happy I was to see her.

  “You know, Mom, in Canada, everybody’s equal.” I smiled, as I walked away to look for Gracie.

  “Come inside, Francesca. Gracie! Look who’s here!”

  A few minutes later, my mother was on the phone instructing her secretary to make a whole bunch of phone calls. “Have Evie and Alicia fetched so they can see their sister. Call my mother too, and let her know that Francesca will be staying here with me. And then call the school and ask for a meeting with the principal first thing tomorrow morning.”

  My half-sister, Gracie was born three years ago at the height of my mother’s drug addiction. As a result of this,
she was delivered at 25 weeks and suffered from Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome. This is the medical term for the symptoms that a newborn baby experiences when his or her mother is addicted to prescription drugs. Thankfully, she was growing up to be a normal and healthy child. Gracie looked just like my stepfather. It made me miss him so much more. She had his darker skin and round eyes, jet-black hair and long limbs. She was going to grow up to be a beautiful girl. I wanted to ask my mother about what had happened, but I didn’t want to get her in a foul mood, especially when she had been so happy to see me. It made me sad to think that I would no longer be seeing him in our home. He would have approved of the way I had handled this situation. He told me that I was a strong girl, a fighter. I made a mental note to contact him as soon as I was settled.

  I met Evie and Alicia in school the next day while my mother was speaking to the principal.

  “You made it! How did you get to Mom’s house?” Alicia asked, as she kissed my cheek.

  “I took a taxi cab.”

  “Isabel, that was very dangerous. Weren’t you scared?” she exclaimed.

  “Who cares, Alicia?” Evie interjected. “The fact that she’s here now is what’s important. You’d better tell Mom that you need a dress for this weekend’s party. It’s at Becky’s house and you’ll get to meet my friends.”

  A few minutes later, I was called into the principal’s office (I’ve been there before, believe me). This was the same all girls’ private school I attended since first grade, so the principal knew my family quite well.

  “Welcome back, Isabel. I was just telling your mother how pleased we are to have you here with us again. There are certain credits that you are missing, but with a weekly tutor you will be able to catch up and graduate next year. As you know, there is a difference in grading scales between here and in Canada. You will have to enter in the 11th grade and gain those credits for graduation. This means you will be in the same grade as your sister Alicia. You can start tomorrow. We will order your uniforms, so dress in civilian clothing until you have them.”

  I was quiet and didn’t say a word. I was a little taken by surprise at the news of being pulled back a year and ending up in Alicia’s class, but I was honestly just glad that they took me in.

  My first day of school the next day was uneventful. Literally humdrum. My old friends were in a grade higher than mine, so our break schedules were different. Alicia tried her best to have me follow her around, but the poor girl looked so stifled, I finally told her to go ahead with her friends and that I’d follow a few minutes later. I never did. I stayed by myself and looked over my whole new pile of books.

  That weekend, we were off to attend a party with Evie and her friends. I agreed with my mother that Ali was a little too young but then promised to watch over her like a hawk. We were just so excited to be together. With the three sisters, our band was back in business. In the years I had been gone, Evie had lost almost all of her baby fat and at 5’4” was the tallest. She had short and wavy dark hair, hazel eyes and a pretty upturned nose. I was much shorter at only 5’2” and although I weighed less than either sister, I had that voluptuous look about me. I was skinny but had a larger chest and a small waist. My brown hair had turned a little darker over the years, my nose not quite as upturned but my skin cream white and flawless. I also inherited my mother’s taste for clothing, which meant I was more of a trendsetter than my two sisters. Alicia had beautiful straight black hair, doe-like black eyes and a permanent tan like she had baked under the sun for the perfect amount of time. I felt so pale compared to both of them.

  “You’re not fat, Isa. You just have big boobs.” This was my sisters’ constant reassurance. Oh great. Thanks.

  We arrived at the party, and all I kept thinking was, “A party is a party is a party no matter what country you’re in.” Loud music and young people everywhere. It was also very dark, and you could hardly make out the figures that were on the dance floor. The house was huge and in between the foyer and the main reception area was a large garden with a pool. To get to the bar area, we had to walk on the grass, which was an ordeal in itself, being that we were all in stiletto heels.

  “Isabel, my friends want to say hi to you. Come with me,” Evie instructed, as she took my hand in hers.

  “Wait, where’s Alicia? Ali, come follow us here.”

  “Hi guys! It’s so nice to see you!” I screeched, as I hugged all of Evie’s friends.

  “Wow, Isabel, look at you! You’re all grown up! Still so pretty!”

  I turned around to look for Alicia. Where did she go? I decided to leave Evie and brave the heel digging process of walking across the garden back to the foyer area where the dance floor was located. I found Alicia sitting on a bench with three of her friends.

  “Hey, are you okay?” I asked as I scraped my shoes on the ground to rid myself of stuck grass.

  “Yup! I’m just going to sit here with these guys for a while. Wanna join us? Evie said we can just meet by the car at midnight.”

  “Aren’t you guys gonna dance? The music is pretty good,” I said, looking around to see if any of John’s friends were at the party. I wasn’t sure whether they would recognize me, but I knew they would remember me once I approached them.

  “Okay, Alicia, don’t go anywhere, stay here. I’m going to get us some Cokes.”

  As I turned around to leave, I smacked my forehead straight onto someone’s chest.

  “Oops, sorry,” the voice said, as I looked up into the most beautiful gray eyes I had ever seen. They were smoky, but soft and clear at the same time. Long brown curly eyelashes were connected to those bewitching eyes. Those deep-set eyes were connected to the most perfectly slanted nose that was connected to the fullest, sexiest lips I had ever laid eyes on. And that hair. Dark brown, thick and wavy, covering his eyes and masking those cute floppy ears. And tall, all 6’1’’ of him. I was barely up to his shoulders; hence, I only got as far as the level of his chest.

  “I’m so sorry. I was just about to say hi to Alicia,” the handsome boy sputtered out.

  “Oh, hi Jesse, how are you? Isabel, this is Jesse Cain. He’s the student coach for our softball team at school. Jesse, this is my older sister, Isabel. She just arrived from studying in Canada,” Alicia said, as her eyes darted back and forth between us.

  “Hi, nice to meet you, Jesse. Alicia, I’m gonna go and get us those Cokes.” I smiled at him.

  And just like that I walked away from Jesse Cain.

  I never really made it back with the Cokes. On my way to the bar, I saw some of John’s friends, and we ended up hanging out and catching up. There was quite a bit of flirting back and forth, and by the time we were exchanging phone numbers, Evie was rounding us up so we could get home in time for our curfew. As we walked out into the driveway and over to the waiting car, Alicia subtly grabbed my arm and pointed her head to the right of my direction. Handsome Boy was leaning casually against his car with his arms across his chest, watching us as we entered the car and drove away.

  “Isa, did you know who that guy was?” Alicia asked, somewhat exasperated with me for some reason.

  “No, who?”

  “You were kind of standoffish. He’s only the crush of the entire high school.”

  “Isa is an ice queen,” Evie said, laughing, and I laughed along with her.

  “Ali, don’t you know by now? Boys are just trouble. Stay away from them and just focus on your studies.” And with that, I turned up the car radio and got lost in my thoughts.

  Minutes later, Handsome Boy’s face popped up in my head.

  “Ali, what year is he?” I asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

  “He’s our age, Isa.”

  I nodded and went back to secretly worrying about my mother and what she was doing that night. Earlier that evening, I had insisted on staying home to watch some movies with her, but my sisters wouldn’t hear any of it. They were very excited to reintroduce me to the world I knew and left three years ago.


  “All that we are is the result of what we have thought.”

  —Buddha

  A few weeks passed after Evie’s party and things were starting to settle down at home. I spent quite a bit of my free time with Gracie. She was so sweet and so lovable and aside from an occasional mild seizure and her lower birth weight, we didn’t see any serious side effects of my mother’s drug dependency while she was pregnant. We were told to expect some learning disabilities along the way, but so far Gracie seemed to be focused and alert. Our home life was often tense and stressful. My mother was always on edge, trying to please the new man in her life. He had a wife and family who often called our house to harass her and to demand that she send him back home to them.

  Evie and Alicia still lived with my grandparents on my father’s side, but I saw them every day after school. My father had since married a woman fifteen years his junior that he met while she was a contestant in a small beauty pageant. Speaking of grandparents, my mother’s parents were not communicating with me and had been very upset when they returned from their trip to find me gone. Still, my grandfather continued to send my mother the funds needed for my daily support. I sent them a letter thanking them and promised that I would continue to work hard at making them proud of me someday.

  School was also going well. I was alone during the actual school day since my old friends were all one grade ahead of me. Alicia tried her best to include me with her group of friends, but catching up on code or stolen glances or mid-sentence conversations was a very exhausting process. One late afternoon, I decided to walk to the park adjacent to the school while waiting for Alicia, who had softball practice. I sped past a group of girls laughing as one of them rolled the dice and threw it across a board game. One of the girls looked up at me and smiled, and I smiled right back.

 

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