Goodnight, Brian

by Steven Manchester

  Mama shook her head. “I didn’t say God was testing Brian,” she said evenly. There was a thoughtful pause. “Maybe He’s testing everyone around Brian?”

  “I don’t want to hear that!” Joan roared. “My son will never be able to enjoy the life of other people who don’t…”

  Mama slapped her hand on the Formica table, stopping Joan in mid-sentence and turning her face into that of a seven-year-old girl’s. “Not another negative word, do you hear me?” she yelled back, quickly grabbing her daughter’s hands and holding them tightly. “Positive, Joan – everything must be positive! Negative calls for negative and positive brings forth positive. Brian’s already facing some unfair challenges. We have to be positive, Joan. We just have to be!”

  Joan wiped her eyes. “But what if the doctor’s right, Ma?” she muttered in a tortured voice. “What if…”

  Without letting Joan’s hands go, Mama took a deep breath and started in on her own tirade. “The doctors don’t know what the hell they’re talking about! I had a grandmother who lived her whole life as a brittle diabetic, but she ate anything she wanted. She died three days before her eighty-fifth birthday. Your grandfather supposedly had cirrhosis of the liver, but lived with his bottle for forty more years until old age took him. They don’t know beans! Besides, we need to have faith in a higher source.” She pulled her crucifix away from her neck and kissed it. “You have to believe, Joan. Before any of the healing can take place, you have to believe that it will.” She nodded and lowered her tone. “Only God knows how…and that’s enough.”

  Joan placed her face in her hands and began to cry. She was now completely removed from her rage and safely returned to the stage of grief. “I’m…just…so…scared,” she stuttered, sobbing.

  Mama stroked her hair. “Don’t you worry, love. They say that children are raised by a village.” She nodded her gray, curly head. “I think it’s about time we had a village meeting.”

  The following Wednesday night, the DiMartino/Mauretti family meeting took place right in Mama’s kitchen. After three giant meatloaves and two trays of her famous white pizza had been devoured, Mama scanned the table and locked eyes with each person seated with her, commanding their full attention. She finally addressed them as a group. “As Brian grows up, he’s going to need our help…all of us.” Although it sounded like she was asking, everyone knew better.

  Except for Frank, the nods fell like dominoes.

  “For years, every Wednesday and Saturday night, this family has gotten together in this little cottage to break bread and share our lives. Although I expect that to continue, I’d like to set some new rules going forward.”

  Everyone stared at her, careful not to make any moves that could be interpreted as an objection. She was setting out instructions to be followed without question. Frank’s face was slowly turning crimson.

  She turned to her small grandchildren. “From now on, no one has to help clear the table or dry the dishes after dinner.”

  Heidi started to celebrate when her dad’s hand stopped her.

  “Instead, I want each of you to spend the time with Brian,” Mama explained. “You can either talk to him and teach him how to use his mouth to form words, or help him to learn how to crawl.” She looked down at the baby seated in Joan’s lap and rubbed his head. “Eventually, we’ll even get him to walk.”

  Joan gasped at her mother’s impossible prediction. Frank shook his agitated head.

  Mama ignored it and waited for a reaction from the kids.

  “How will we know what to do?” Steph asked, innocently.

  “Yeah, how can we help?” Heidi joined her sister.

  Mama pointed to Ross. The little boy was seated beside Brian and his mother at the table, holding his brother’s hand. “That’s the type of love and attention that we need to pay Brian,” Mama explained. “Just watch Ross. He’ll show you what to do. He always thinks about his brother before himself. It’s instinctive for him.”

  Although the silence remained, Bob and Bev joined the girls’ nods.

  Mama turned to Joan and Frank and announced, “I also plan to hire a speech therapist.”

  “Speech therapist?” Frank repeated. “I think it’s too early…”

  “No, it’s not. I’ve already spoken to a few of them and have been assured that it’s not too early, and that it’s time for him to start forming words.”

  “But how much…” Joan began to ask.

  “I’m going to cover it,” Mama interrupted. “Weeks ago, Liz was good enough to give me some piece-work.”

  “But Ma, you shouldn’t…” Joan began to object.

  “I want to do this. And I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

  Frank was now shaking his head even harder, clearly upset with where the discussion was going.

  For the moment, Mama ignored it and scanned the table. “I also know that Brian’s only going to get a fraction of what he needs from outside of this family. Most of what he’s going to learn will come from us, so we need to be well aware of that and put in the extra effort every chance we can.”

  Frank half-rose and began to rebel against his motherin-law. “I appreciate what you’re saying, Ma, but my son’s future is for your daughter and me to decide.”

  With a gentle hand upon his shoulder, the stubborn old lady diplomatically explained, “But you’re not always going to be around, Frank. You need to work and provide for your family…for your son. So he’s going to need others to teach him, as well.” She patted his shoulder. “It’s going to take everyone, Frank. And I know you want the best for Brian.”

  “That’s it! I’ve heard enough,” Frank said. With a huff, he rose from his seat and headed for the door. “I’m going for a cigarette,” he grumbled and slammed the door behind him.

  Ross watched his father storm out of the house, but quickly returned his attention to his little brother. Everyone else, however, looked to Joan. She simply shrugged. “Let him go and sulk. I really don’t care. Brian comes first.” But her face told a different story. She loved Frank too much to dismiss his feelings so easily and everyone knew it.

  Mama shook her head. The first crack had revealed itself in the foundation of her daughter’s strained marriage.

  Uncle Sal – Mama’s brother – pulled his cherry red Cadillac in front of the house, parked and spotted Frank sitting on the front steps. Although Frank was sucking on a non-filter, Sal could see the smoke coming out of his ears. He strolled over and took a seat beside him. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Frank never hesitated. “Your sister’s in there trying to run the show, as usual…telling me and my wife what’s going to happen with Brian.”

  Sal nodded. “Yeah, she told me that you guys were meeting today to discuss the little guy.”

  “Too bad I didn’t know ahead of time. I could have avoided it!”

  “Frank, if you put your pride aside for a few minutes and think about your boy rather than yourself, you’ll see the amazing opportunity that’s right in front of you.” Ignoring Frank’s angry gaze, he shrugged. “Angie may be the most stubborn, pig-headed person I know, but she’s also got a heart as big as your head…and that’s exactly what you need with the tough hand that Brian’s been dealt.” There was a thoughtful pause. “If anyone can help your son, it’s your crazy motherin-law. She loves that boy more than her own soul. She’ll pull the best he has out of him and help him fit into this screwed-up world.”

  Frank flicked his cigarette butt onto the lawn, stood and started for the car. “Maybe…but she’s not going to run my life in the meantime.”

  From the living room window, Joan and Mama watched as Frank and Sal finished their animated conversation. Mama turned to her daughter. “Let the boys stay tonight.”

  “Brian, too?” Joan asked, surprised.

  “Brian, too,” Mama confirmed. “You don’t think you’re the only one who can change a diaper, do you?” Mama rubbed her daughter’s back. “Besides, it looks like you c
ould use a good night’s sleep.”

  Joan stared at her husband, who now sat waiting in the parked car at the curb. “Thanks, Ma.”

  Mama turned to Bob and Bev. “Do you mind if the girls stay, too…just for the night?”

  “Okay,” Bob said. “I’ll be by to pick them up first thing in the morning.”

  While the kids celebrated, the adults headed for the door. Mama watched from the window, as Joan and Frank exchanged some heated words. She looked down to see Ross also watching his parents argue. The little boy looked up at his grandmother. She half-shrugged, telling him, “When the elephants are mating, it’s best for us little people to stay out of the high grass, or we might get hurt.”

  Ross’ big eyes showed even more confusion.

  Mama smiled at him and nibbled on his neck until he squealed. Frank and Joan pulled away from the curb and drove down the road. Like marriage isn’t hard enough, she thought and turned to find the girls playing with Brian on the floor.

  Heidi and Steph were taking turns trying to show the toddler how to push himself up onto his knees from his belly. Mama’s eyes filled when she saw it.

  As they played, Brian flopped onto his back and – although he tried real hard – he couldn’t roll himself back onto his belly. Steph grabbed him and started to flip him over when Mama stopped her. “Let him do it, sweetheart.”

  “But he can’t…”

  “No such word as can’t!” she blurted. “Brian is abled, not disabled…and we’re never going to treat him like he’s handicapped. Let him learn to do it for himself, please.”

  Each young face stared up at her, betraying a mix of confusion and disappointment.

  Mama slowly took a seat on the floor with them and took a deep breath. “Do you guys like butterflies?” she asked.

  They all nodded. “They’re my favorite!” Heidi said.

  “Mine, too,” Mama confirmed with a smile. “But butterflies start out as fuzzy, crawly caterpillars.”

  “Yuck,” Heidi said.

  Steph smiled. “That’s cool,” Ross agreed.

  Mama chuckled. “And when the time’s just right, each caterpillar forms its own cocoon. About two weeks later, when it’s time for them to fly off into the world as a butterfly, they have to struggle with all their might to break out of that cocoon. And believe me, they can’t fly until they’ve struggled for a very long time.” She searched their faces. They seemed to be following her. “If they didn’t have to struggle,” she explained, “then they wouldn’t be able to build up the muscles that they need to help them fly.” She looked at Brian and rubbed his belly. “We don’t want our little boy to be a caterpillar forever, right?”

  “No, Mama,” they sang in chorus.

  “That’s right,” she said. “Brian’s our butterfly, so he’s going to have to learn how to break out of his own cocoon.”

  There were still some questions in their eyes, so Mama took a more direct approach. “We just need to be careful not to do everything for Brian. We have to allow him to do for himself, and this isn’t going to be an easy thing to do. Trust me, it breaks Mama’s heart sometimes to watch you guys struggle. But unless I let you struggle, you’ll never learn and be able to do for yourself and survive in this world. And that’s what we need to give Brian…that’s what he deserves. Breaking out of his cocoon is going to take a lot of hard work, without other people doing it for him. You guys…”

  Although they continued to nod, they’d returned to playing on the floor. She’d reached the end of their attention spans and laughed. “Okay then,” she said. Stretching out on the floor with them, she gladly joined in their games.

  Chapter 6

  Early Summer 1978

  Breakfast was a team effort, with each kid taking his or her assignment very seriously. Heidi set the table and then fed Brian, while Steph worked the toaster, lathering each burned slice of bread with globs of butter. Ross worked slowly at the counter, mixing plastic tumblers of flavored milk. Mama scrambled a frying pan of fluffy eggs and watched as one mess after the other was being made. It would have been easier for her to do it all herself – but what would that teach? she thought.

  Although he did his best to avoid it, Ross knocked over a full cup of milk. “Sorry, Mama,” he said, looking up from the brown puddle.

  She glanced over her shoulder with indifference. “You don’t need to apologize to me,” she said. “You’re the one cleaning it up.”

  With a nod, he mopped up the new mess before taking another shot at his breakfast treat – cold milk and the perfect amount of sweet coffee syrup.

  Before they sat down to eat, Mama insisted that the bigger messes get cleaned. And like some brilliant orchestra conductor, she ensured that it all got done before the eggs grew cold.

  As they claimed their seats around the table, Mama took over for Heidi and finished spooning out the bowl of mush to Brian. She waited for the questions to begin. It didn’t take long.

  “Mama, what did the doctors say about Brian? I mean, what did they really say about him being sick?” Heidi asked.

  Mama never hesitated with the truth. “They said that he won’t be able to do what other kids can do…that he can’t.”

  Ross shook his head – visibly upset.

  Mama grabbed the little boy’s hand and peered hard into his eyes. “Ross, we just talked about this. What does the word can’t mean to you?”

  “Nothing,” he answered, defiantly. “You always tell us there’s no such word as can’t.”

  She smiled. “That’s right. For us, there is no such word as can’t. Do you believe that?”

  “Yes,” he replied, confidently.

  She looked at the girls.

  “We do,” they promised in unison.

  “Then there’s nothing to worry about! If you really don’t believe something, then it just isn’t true, is it?” She looked at Brian and beamed with love. “I can’t tell you how excited I am to see what this little guy is going to teach us…what he’s going to show those foolish doctors.”

  The kids were still agreeing with her when Mama jumped up from the table and began searching for something in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink. She grabbed one of her giant glass pickling jars and a single shot glass. She placed the small glass into the bottom of the massive jar and filled it with water, making sure that the shot glass stayed upright. She then hurried off to her bedroom, returning with a full jar of pennies. Catching her breath, she looked at each of them and explained, “They say it’s impossible to drop a penny into this jar and hit the shot glass.” She handed them each a penny. “Go ahead and try it.”

  Each child dropped their penny into the jar, but none of the copper coins came close to landing into the shot glass. Their shrugs quickly turned to mumbled complaints.

  “So are you going to quit after only one try, or are you going to give it another shot?” She gave them each a handful of pennies and smiled. “Remember, nothing’s impossible. And if I were you, I’d spend every penny I had to prove it.”

  Steph hit the shot glass on her eleventh turn and squealed in delight. Ross hit the shot glass seven turns later and celebrated like he’d just scored the winning touchdown at the Super Bowl. Heidi dropped penny after penny into the jar, but couldn’t hit the shot glass. No matter how carefully she aimed, the small coin always drifted to one side of the target or the other. She finally ran out of pennies and began to sulk.

  Mama turned to Ross and Steph. “Well, are you going to help her out or not?” she asked.

  They immediately slid the rest of their pennies over to her.

  On the very next turn, Heidi hit the shot glass.

  While the three kids danced in celebration, Mama said, “Sometimes, you have to give it all you have. And you might even have to rely on the help of family. But there is nothing that’s impossible!”

  They all nodded, each understanding her clever lesson and the message it was meant to impart.

  That afternoon, on the front porch,
Mama played Parcheesi with the kids, while Brian watched from her lap. Between moves, Heidi innocently asked, “Now that we have to spend our time helping Brian to talk and walk, will we still be able to go on our adventures?” She’d finally popped the question they were all wondering, but didn’t dare ask.

  Mama smiled. “Oh yes, we’ll go and Brian will come with us. And keep in mind, Brian will be the greatest adventure of all for us.”

  Heidi high-fived her sister and cousin Ross.

  After the next move, Steph looked up from the game and asked Mama, “Why did God do this to Brian?”

  Mama sat back in her chair and stared into space for a few moments. “I don’t know,” she finally answered, honestly.

  They were shocked. Mama knew everything.

  Reading their faces, she embellished, “Only God knows why Brian was chosen to face such challenges. We just need to have faith that it’s a good reason; faith that God knows what He’s doing…and that’s enough.”

  “What’s faith?” Ross asked.

  There was much less hesitation this time and she jumped at the opportunity to share her deepest beliefs. “Faith is believing in something you can’t see with your eyes.”

  They were baffled, but took a break from the board game to wrestle with the idea.

  “But how can you believe in something that you’ve never seen?” Steph asked.

  “Do you guys love me?” Mama asked the group, grinning.

  “With all our hearts,” Heidi answered.

  “But how do you know? It’s not something you can see, right?”

  “But we can feel it,” Steph finally answered, proudly.

  “Right. And I can always feel God’s love, so I know He will watch over me and the ones I love. And that’s called faith…knowing without having to see.” She paused to sip her tea. “Without faith, there would be no hope. But with it, we can do anything…and so can Brian. And I believe that more than anything I’ve ever seen with these tired eyes.”

  The kids sat back, looking at each other, trying to understand.