Collapse: The Tale of Waking Marissa

by Jessica L. Gaffney

  6 Nice but not likely

  Rod burst into the girls’ room at precisely 6:35 a.m. “Everybody up,” he hollered, clinking a cowbell over each of their heads. “Breakfast is not optional, ladies, and neither are devotions. Be in the meeting hall by 7:10 a.m.”

  Marissa pulled the pillow over her head. She had showered the night before, leaving her more time to stay in bed while her roommates fussed. Besides, the warm air from their hot shower would warm up the room and make getting up, much more comfortable.

  At 6:50 a.m. she slid out from under the covers and turned on the flat iron. Thankful she’d slept in her cozy socks, Marissa straightened her hair without a glitch. She tied a sash around her waist and traipsed out to the meeting room.

  Marissa joined the other early arrivals. She was eager to run into Hawke and explain her behavior from last night. The door opened every few seconds as the sleepy crowd gathered in their chairs.

  She’d never been on one of these retreats before so the term “devotion” was rather perplexing. It sounded meditative. Weren’t churches against all that yoga stuff?

  Despite the lagging moments, the meeting room was warm and inviting. The morning sunlight poured in the picture windows and toasted her feet. One by one she studied everyone as they came in, taking the same seats as the night before. People were such creatures of habit.

  She waved to Burton, who sat quietly until Evan and Jedd rumbled through the room. Both boys ignored her, which was typical. She still didn’t understand the beef with Hawke, and she may never. Boys had the strangest way of dealing with conflict. They avoided each other. How odd! She typically ran to the fight. She got that from Sean. He told her not to back down, so she didn’t.

  Rod stepped up on the small stage in the front of the room. He removed the microphone from its stand, said a short prayer and moved the meeting along.

  “Each of you has a piece of colored paper under your chair. Pick it up, and go to the spot on the wall that has your color. This is your small group for the weekend.”

  Marissa swooped down and took the yellow piece of construction paper in her hand. She trudged toward her area. Burton also dragged his tired body closer. Stephanie whizzed by as if she’d taken caffeine pills, chatting away with another girl. “Oh, this is me.” She backed up. “I’m yellow.”

  Marissa dropped her head. She couldn’t believe it.

  Stephanie looked down at her as if she were not surprised.

  Marissa stomped her way to the man under the yellow sign. “Excuse me, but she and I --” she pointed to Stephanie, “we can’t be in the same group.”

  The man peered over her shoulder. “Why’s that?”

  Marissa tried to pull him to the side. “Let’s see, because she’s thrown my clothes all over the room and apparently has a problem with everything I do.”

  Stephanie interjected. “Sorry Corbin, my roomie here seems to need some space. I guess she should join another group.”

  “Please let me switch groups.”

  Corbin shook his head no. “I’m sorry girls, but whatever your disagreement is, you will have to work it out.”

  “Fat chance.”

  “Tell you what. I will notify my wife Kirsten; she’s the chaperone in your room. But for now, I’d love it if you stayed. I want to get to know you.”

  Marissa dropped into the nearest chair, her stare hardening.

  Corbin distracted her soon enough. “Marissa, everybody here is from Chatham. Is that where you live?”

  She nodded. “And who is at home with you?”

  What was this, twenty questions? “It’s me, my little sisters and my mom.”

  “All girls. Wow. I hope you have your own room.”

  Oh she did alright, just like she wanted one now.

  Corbin earned her respect rather fast. He didn’t let her have her way, even though she wanted it. He also acknowledged the issue with Stephanie and offered a solution. He reminded her of her Dad, even though he was quite a bit younger and almost balding.

  Corbin chose the sunniest place in the room for the group to have their meetings. Marissa had complaints, but this was the best spot in the entire room for her to keep an eye out for Hawke.

  “Alright, everybody. My job this weekend is to challenge you.” He looked everyone in the eye as he gave out this charge. “Every time we break into groups, I want you to meet me here. This is our spot.”

  “Now take one of these and listen to my directions.”

  He passed out a piece of paper with mini pencils. “The purpose of our small group is to make friends and also encourage us to get rid of a few things. Our theme this weekend is ‘Getting Free.’ We want you to leave here feeling good about yourself. But there is a trick to accomplishing this.”

  “I want you to use the rest of our time this morning and write down three things you want to change about yourself. If you can’t do that, then write the names of three people you need to forgive.”

  Her lungs deflated.

  “I don’t care how impossible this may seem. Dig deep. It may get ugly but that’s okay. We’re gonna get rid of these things that are holding you back. Rod will talk more about it tonight.”

  The three names popped up immediately. Marissa however, pushed them right back down. “For some of you this may take a little while. You can work on this all day. Don’t rush.”

  Burton raised his hand. “Are you collecting these?”

  “No,” he clarified. “These papers are for you and not for anyone else. But your assignment is to recognize three places in your life where you need help.”

  Marissa swallowed. He was serious. How could she do this here?

  Corbin switched gears. “Now, after our morning meeting, we’ll meet back here to come up with a skit for tomorrow’s talent show.”

  Talent show? Marissa’s head started to pound. Wasn’t the assignment bad enough? Now she had to get up in front of strangers and perform?

  The room fell silent as every teenager retreated to a private spot. Pencils started moving, and other people texted their lists. She tapped her pencil on her chin. She wasn’t going to do this. And even if she did, she could erase what she wrote. Why couldn’t life have a delete key?

  She stared at the paper for a long time, knowing that once she wrote the first name the other two would follow. Thinking of the first one made her wheeze. She thought of other names or things she could forgive, anything but the real issue -- the one that cut through her heart to parts she didn’t know existed.

  All she wanted to do was see Hawke and meet him for breakfast. And now this.

  Before she knew it, a tear had dribbled onto her paper. She wrote out her father’s name. Just thinking of him made her heart swell.

  Her chest ached. The sobs she held inside found their way out late at night. Sean would be the second name. Everybody knew that. But writing him down was the easy part. It was her unanswered questions that made his betrayal more gruesome. She put all of her hopes in Sean and when he let her down, Marissa shut everyone else out.

  For a time she had felt so safe with him. He was her constant: the father figure that her mother could not provide. But thinking of Sean and the life they planned together took her to the third place. A place that she assumed no other girl had been. And that name made this assignment her enemy.

  Marissa stood up and hauled herself to the other side of the room. Her stomach was growing nauseous as the sea of guilt and loss seemed to toss her about. She took a seat as the room began to empty. Marissa drew her legs up to her chest and stared at the raging fire.

  Like a child on her mother’s lap, Marissa rocked back and forth as she stared at the dancing flames. The crackling sound of the wood settled her. Winter had been her favorite season. Without the chores outside, her father had made time for her. For years they would build fires in the living room and camp out all weekend. Her mother didn’t like the mess they made but her father continued to do it anyway.

  She remembered falling asleep
with the heat of the fire on her face. When she got too warm, she’d turn around and let the heat toast her back. She’d often drift off as her father read her a story or sang her a song. He was a good father, a protective, kind and caring man. And he was gone forever.

  With her chin on her knees she wiggled her jaw. What was she doing here? Who was she kidding, anyway? She didn’t belong at this church. She didn’t belong anywhere but with Sean, but he was gone, too.

  She blinked away another tear, knowing what would follow. It was that final name that made her feel this sick. Marissa’s heart sank lower as she thought back to what happened. Her eyes closed as her bedroom came into mind. It was her fault. She’d made the choice; she’d locked herself away that weekend. She was punishing her mother but instead she’d destroyed a part of herself. What had she done?

  She wanted to forget what happened. She wanted to muffle the cries and stifle the memories but the only way to do that was to walk away. That meant letting go. And she couldn’t let go. Not when love had been pried from her fingers on two occasions. She couldn’t trust or love anyone— not even herself.

  Marissa had already gone down this road with her therapist but she relented. She wouldn’t let go of the scar. Yes, she longed for a life without these wretched scars, but in some weird way they defined her. She was not her father’s daughter and she wasn’t Sean’s girlfriend. She was just Marissa Gladstone. And that person was nothing!

  Marissa sniffled and hid behind her hair, a closed stage curtain that kept her hidden in her own secret place. Life was safer when it was just about her.

  But the assignment wouldn’t let her hide. She listened to Corbin’s words as they penetrated her lonely heart. She had to try again. She had to let it go.

  The whisper came softly, as it always did, the faintest image like a fairy disappearing in the daylight. The picture was there and she remembered it vividly. She clenched her hands and the name formed in her mouth. Her heart began to swell.

  With the paper tottering in her grip she closed her eyes. She had to write it out. She had to. The memories were all there, interwoven like the strands of a basket. She pressed the led tip to the soggy paper. The soft strokes of her pencil formed the five-letter word. No title, no surname, no nickname, just a name meant for the one person who would never be taken from her. A name Sean had chosen.

  She folded up the edges of the paper and pushed it in her pocket. No one had to know. No one would ever know.

  Marissa wiped her face and peered through her cascading hair. The room was empty. The breakfast line opened at 8 a.m. and it was already quarter past. She scooted to her feet and hurried back to the room.

  She scampered into the bathroom and locked the door. Not eating was always her way of maintaining control. And she needed some now. She gripped the counter and looked at her disheveled reflection. You could tell she had been crying.

  Why am I still alive? she wondered. And why am I growing accustomed to life without Sean?

  A knock at the door jarred her . “Marissa? It’s Kirsten Corbin, are you in there?”

  “Just a minute.” She spun around, flushed the toilet and then turned on the faucet. “I’m washing up. Be right out.”

  “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine.” She blotted her eyes but wasn’t sure why: She couldn’t hide her red face.

  “I didn’t see you at breakfast, so I came looking.”

  Kirsten was intelligent. When Marissa entered the room last night, Stephanie and Brianna were on the top bunk painting their nails. Kirsten introduced herself and handed her a handwritten note. It was very welcoming and personal, which helped ease Marissa’s reluctance about sharing a room with the two snots she called roommates.

  Marissa looked at her reflection one more time. She was sick of hiding her feelings, regardless of what she said. Here goes, she huffed, yanking back the door. Marissa was ready for the inquisition.

  Kirsten didn’t look up; instead she stood busily making her bed. Marissa knew she was just being polite. She hoped the woman wouldn’t force her to eat; besides, they were running out of time. Kirsten finished fluffing her pillow and turned to look at Marissa.

  She noticed her blotchy skin but didn’t mention it. “I’m proud of you,” she said, walking closer to Marissa to give her a hug. “It takes a lot of guts to come on a trip like this.”

  Marissa immediately relaxed. She absorbed the compliment like a dry sponge absorbs warm water. She wanted to hear that someone noticed her and recognized her plight.

  ‘Thank you,” Marissa replied.

  “I know you might not be hungry,” Kirsten said, “but I’m starving and I could use the company on the walk over to the main building. Would you like to join me?”

  She paused. “Well, I was sort of supposed to meet someone. But I think I’m too late.”

  Kirsten smiled. “That someone wouldn’t be Hawke Davies, would it?”

  Marissa smiled. “You guys really are on top of things.”

  Kirsten laughed. “Yeah we are. But that’s not how I know. Hawke lives above our garage. He’s quite close with Corbin. Hawke told us last night that you two knew each other. He tends to fill us in on things before we even ask.”

  “He does?” She grinned. “Did he happen to say anything particular?”

  Kirsten smiled again. “No. He told us about meeting you last spring.”

  Her face soured. “Last spring?”

  “Yep. Hawke’s very private. But he asked us to keep an eye on you and Stephanie. So don’t worry. I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

  Marissa was confused. Did Hawke mention her last year when they first met, or did Kirsten mean he explained that they’d met last spring?

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  Kirsten opened the door to leave. “Which part?”

  Should she re-ask or would that make her look stupid? “Never mind. Let’s go eat.”

  Together the women waltzed up the hall as if they’d been friends for years. The winter sun was strong as the girls crossed the salted path to the main building. The noise from the cafeteria rustled down the stairs, sounding a lot like the lunch room at school.

  Jedd was standing at the top of the stairs when they surfaced. His eyes sparkled when he saw Marissa. “How’s my goddess doing this morning?”

  She stared at him, wondering what other pickup lines he used.

  “I had a dream about you last night.”

  “Oh you did?”

  He whispered in her ear. “I’d tell you about it, but since Mrs. Corbin is here, I wouldn’t want to make her blush.”

  “Move along, Jedd,” she warned.

  Marissa laughed, conveying the obvious. Jedd’s antics were well-known.

  When they reached the service station, Jedd piled up bacon and hash browns, while Kirsten reached for some fruit and offered it to Marissa. She kindly accepted.

  “Do you drink coffee?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Marissa turned to get some cream and sugar but suddenly froze. The view from the picture window was so breathtaking she almost dropped her tray. Like a kid at the aquarium she pressed her nose to the glass in awe.

  When she was younger her parents had taken her to the mountains. She barely remembered the trip but the pictures always made her feel safe. There was something about the solace of the mountains that spoke to her. New Jersey had nothing on this!

  She couldn’t bear to look away and seated herself at the table in the far back. The range extended for miles beneath a snowy canopy. She was speechless, again.

  She looked around. Where was Hawke? She wanted to share this with him.

  Kirsten waved from a nearby table. She had joined her husband and left Marissa alone. Maybe this weekend would help her? Maybe she just needed to get away for a little bit.

  She turned her attention to the empty plate before her and the cup of black coffee and banana on her tray.

  Jedd snuck up behind her and seated himself. He clank
ed his tray into hers.

  Not amused, she stared up at him and told him to sit somewhere else.

  “Sorry, kiddo, you’re not getting rid of me.” He tucked in his chair and whipped out his napkin. Then he stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth. “He snores, you know.”

  Tapping her sugar packet, Marissa wrinkled her brow. “What?”

  Jedd poured an ungodly amount of syrup over his French toast. “I thought you’d want to know. Hawke snores. Loudly.”

  Before she could laugh she noticed a regal figure crossing the room. “Speak of the devil,” Jedd looked up. “There he goes.”

  Marissa raised her hand, hoping to flag him down, but he headed out the side door. Her eyes fell upon Stephanie, who sat a few tables away. She was snuggled up to Evan but also watched Hawke leave.

  “Weren’t you waiting for him?” Jedd said.

  Marissa shifted in her chair. “What? No.”

  “Don’t lie,” he prodded. “He probably had to set up the sound for the band.”

  The mess hall cleared out in time for the morning session. Trailing behind Evan and Jedd, forty other sleepy teens swept down the back stairs and made their way over to the Little Lodge.

  Wishing Jedd had been more of a morning distraction, Marissa hardened her stare. How could Hawke ditch her like that? Didn’t he see her come into the room with Kirsten?

  Jedd slipped his arm around her as the line moved up the center aisle. “Not now,” she huffed, shrugging off his arm.

  “When then?” he teased.

  She stared at the toothpick he spun in the corner of his mouth. She yanked it out and tossed it to the ground. “Never, that’s when.”

  Marissa was fuming. She backed out of line and skulked back to her room. She didn’t care what the penalty was; she wasn’t staying in that hall a second longer.

  With her head tucked down, she counted the paces till she reached room number eight.

  “Marissa?”

  Hawke jogged up beside her.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “Why, what’s the matter?” He pulled on her shoulder like he did last night. “What’d you do to your hair?” He scratched the back of his head. “Why didn’t you show up this morning?”