by Kip Cassino
She was still red-eyed from crying that afternoon, when she had another visitor. Her pimp, a tall, slender African American who styled himself “Saint Jaim,” had heard through the grapevine that Edna would be released from the hospital soon. He sent Lyreen, his bottom girl, to guide her back to his loose-knit “family.”
The two knew each other well. Lyreen handled money collections for Saint Jaim and made sure the women he ran obeyed his rules. He trusted her implicitly. She was a short, plump woman with a freckle-dotted café-au-lait complexion, who sported prominent gold front teeth. Edna had never seen Lyreen show any emotion, save a small frown when someone attempted to thwart her. “Family” members who tried were often beaten. Some were never seen again. Edna disdained her, but kept her distance and followed her orders. Now Lyreen sat before her, regarding her with flat, empty eyes—the gaze of a lizard.
“You back on the street soon,” Lyreen said without heat. “You look good for the stroll.”
Edna’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m still all beat up inside,” she said. “Where was Saint Jaim when that trucker damn near killed me? What do I pay you for?”
“Saint Jaim, he can’t be every damn place,” Lyreen replied, without altering the flat monotone of her voice. “Maybe he think you need a lesson. Maybe I did, too.”
“Tell your boss he failed me. Tell him I learned one big lesson. I don’t need him anymore.”
“You gonna try and have that baby? You a fool. Listen. I pick you up, help you to get rid of that thing in you. Then I get you what you really want. Give you a taste now, you ask nice.”
A chill ran down Edna’s spine. Lyreen was offering her heroin, right here in the hospital. A part of her yearned to accept the offer—even knowing it would mean a return to addiction and the street, as well as the death of the child growing inside her.
Somewhere within herself, Edna found the resolve to refuse. “Get away from me,” she spat. “Tell Saint Jaim I don’t want to see you or him anymore.”
Lyreen rose from the bedside chair and smiled. On her face, the expression was obscene. “I’m leaving,” she said. “You go on, bitch. You try and get back to the world you dropped from. Have that baby, it don’t matter none. You’ll come around again. Maybe Saint Jaim take you back, maybe he don’t.” She turned on her heel and left.
Edna stared after her pimp’s agent long after she left. She shuddered—as much from the drugs she still wanted badly as from the darkness of Lyreen’s words. She slept poorly that night. In the morning, when Cassandra Moore returned, she quickly signed all the papers presented to her. Whatever was in store for her, she decided, couldn’t be worse than what she was leaving.
They released Edna from the hospital two days later—after more than five weeks of treatment. She was still weak, and felt frightened as well. The clothes she’d been in the night of her beating had been ruined or lost. Cassandra Moore had provided her with something to wear—some undergarments, a sweatshirt, loose khaki trousers, and sneakers. The older woman pushed her wheelchair through Coliseum North to a waiting minivan. “Thanks, Janey,” she said to the driver as she helped Edna into the van, buckled her seat belt, and sat beside her. She nodded, and the car began to move.
Once again, Cassandra Moore put Edna’s hands in hers. “We’re not going far,” she told her. “The place has some other names, but we call it ‘lifeboat.’ This is where you’ll stay to have your baby, and after that too, we hope. This is where you can learn to meet the world on your own terms again.”
The place they drove to must have been a large private home at one time. Three stories tall, it had pale green stucco walls and a pitched shingle roof. The neighborhood was quiet, residential. The large front yard sloped to meet a high, gated wall. Janey, the driver, opened the gate and the garage beyond remotely. As they traveled up the driveway, Edna noticed several women in the front yard, involved in some kind of calisthenics. “That’s the tai chi class,” Cassandra explained. “It’s popular here. If I hadn’t come to get you, I’d be out there myself.”
They left the van and walked through a side entrance into the house. Edna noticed the high ceilings, crown moldings, and detailed woodwork of an older home. They walked down a softly gleaming wood parquet floored hall to what looked like an office, which they entered. Cassandra shut the door, and moved to sit behind a large desk in the center of the room. “Sit down, Edna,” she said. “Would you like coffee or something else to drink?”
Edna shook her head and sat in an upholstered chair that faced the desk.
“I’m going to explain what’s going to happen to you here,” Cassandra said. “There’s a packet that explains everything, and you’ll find it on your bed when you go upstairs. Even so, I want you to be as comfortable as you can from the start, so I’ll go through some of these matters with you. If you have any questions, just ask.”
“I have a question right now, if you don’t mind,” Edna said. “I’d like to know what’s going to happen to my baby.”
Cassandra looked at her directly, and folded her hands on the desk. “You’ll get the best prenatal care available, Edna,” she said, “at the hospital you just came from. The wealthiest family in Macon couldn’t get better. You’ll see the baby after he or she is born. The two of you will return here after the birth. Then, you’ll be with your child until a loving, needing home is found. If the child is healthy, if there are no complications, this normally takes less than a month. There are an awful lot of families looking for children they can’t have themselves, Edna.”
Edna nodded. A single tear rolled down her cheek until she angrily brushed it away. She was amazed how quickly her affection for the little life within her had grown.
“You won’t be told the identity of your child’s adoptive parents,” Cassandra continued. “Experience has shown us it’s much better for everyone concerned that way. Sometimes, later in life, a child may want to find his or her birth mother. If the child comes to us, and you’ve given us permission, we will direct the child to you—given that we know where you are. Do you have any questions about what I’ve told you?”
Edna shook her head, but remained silent. She knew that if she tried to speak, she would break down and cry.
“Let’s talk about you for a minute, shall we?” Cassandra said. “You’ve been through terrible trauma—not just recently, but ever since you lost your way to drug addiction. You are very weak, both physically and mentally. If I offered you drugs right now, right here, your temptation to use again would be overwhelming. Sending you back into the world as you are would be like condemning you to a slow, dehumanizing death. Do you believe what I am telling you?”
Edna thought about her meeting with Lyreen. “Yes,” she managed to say, “you’re right.”
Cassandra nodded. “I sat where you are sitting now,” she said, “twenty-five years ago. This place was somewhere else then, but the mission was still the same. If you work with us, if you try, we’ll help you find a future you can aspire to. When you leave here, you will be ready to face the world without fear or shame. I believe in you. That’s why you’re here.”
Edna shook her head. “That’s a great story for some teenager,” she said, “but I’m in my thirties. I’ve been scraping along the bottom and filling my veins with junk for a long time. You have my baby. I’ve already signed her away. How long before you get tired of me and throw my ass out in the street?”
“Listen to me!” Cassandra said heatedly. “Some women leave here in a few months. Others take longer. Some never leave. Never. I am one of those, myself. While you’re here you’ll get work to do. When you’re ready we’ll find you a job. When you and I agree you’re prepared for it, you can walk on out. Nobody here will kick you out, and nobody will give up on you. We’ve had plenty of failures, sure. Some women leave on their own, and some of those end up back on the worst end of life—but nobody here kicked them out.” She stood. “Co
me on,” she said, “let me show you to your room.”
Edna was led up a steep flight of steps—what must have been a servant’s passage at one time—to a small room on the second floor of the large house. There were two narrow beds in the room, covered with patterned spreads, separated by a pair of dressers. She’d have some privacy from her room-mate, but not much. A small table by her bed held a reading lamp and a clock. A knitted rug decorated the wooden floor. Light poured in from a large, high window at the back of the room—which overlooked the front lawn through the branches of a tree. “You’ll find clothes that fit you in your side of the closet, underwear and socks in the dresser that faces your bed. There’s toiletries and a toothbrush there as well,” Cassandra told her. “If you need more, or something doesn’t fit, let your floor captain know. Her name is Janey. She drove the van that brought you here today. The bathroom’s down the hall. There’s plenty of room in the shower, but no tub I’m afraid. Six sinks, so you shouldn’t have to wait long to wash up—and six toilets in the stalls.”
Edna looked around the small space, peeked in some of the dresser’s drawers. The place reminded her a little of her dorm back in college, more than a decade ago. “The packet I told you about is on your bed, Edna.” Cassandra said. “You should read it and try to get familiar with how things work around here. You’re expected to keep your bed made and your area tidy. If you make a mess, you’re expected to clean it up. You’ll be put on work details, starting tomorrow. They’re posted on the bulletin board down the hall by the bathroom door. Activities and field trips are posted there as well. Don’t worry, the work’s nothing difficult—laundry, housekeeping, maybe some light yard or kitchen work if you’re up to it. Breakfast and dinner times are posted. There are twenty-five of us here now, so we eat in shifts. Lunch is when and if you want it, usually sandwiches or soup from the kitchen counter. That’s about it. Any questions?”
“When do I see a doctor?” Edna asked. After all that had happened, she remained fearful for her baby’s health.
Cassandra smiled. “Your baby won’t be neglected, Edna,” she said. “You’ll see an obstetrician once a week, and you’ll be transported to and from the clinic. We’ll notify you of your appointments by leaving a notice on your bed.”
“Thanks,” Edna said softly, nodding as she did. She was beginning to understand the mechanics of the place she’d signed up for. This would not be freedom, but it didn’t seem harsh—at least not yet. Most of all, she’d be insulated from the world outside. She needed that insulation right now.
Cassandra watched her closely before speaking again. “This isn’t a prison or a reformatory, Edna,” she said. “Nobody cares when you get up or when you go to bed, as long as you get the chores you’re assigned completed on time. You can leave if you want to—but if you do, you can’t come back. As long as you’re here you’ll be expected to follow the few rules I’ve told you about. There really aren’t that many rules, but the ones we have are important. There are a lot of people here, living in a fairly small space. If we didn’t have rules, this place would be chaos and we’d all be at each other’s necks. Relax and get to know the women here. There’s no reason to be defensive. Everybody is here for the same reason you are. Make some friends. Read a book. Watch a movie—we run a new one every evening.”
“Will I see any more of you, Cassandra?” Edna asked.
“I’m always around,” Cassandra said. “I live here, and my room’s not much different from yours. As you’ll see, I pull my chores—and I do most of the cooking around here. If you need to see me about a question or a problem, just ask.” She looked at her wristwatch. “I’ve got to go now, Edna,” she said. “Settle in. Get some rest. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” She walked from the room and down the hall, disappearing around a corner.
Suddenly, the little room was quiet. Edna lay on her new bed, found it comfortable, realized she was exhausted, and decided to take a nap. She slept. She dreamed about walking with a tall man whose face she could not see. Night had fallen, but the full moon illuminated their path through a dark forest. As they turned past a giant tree, the couple was confronted by a huge dog with enormous golden fangs, that leaped from nowhere to attack them. “Run!” cried the man, who pushed her behind him and turned to challenge the great beast. Edna ran back up the path, trying to retrace her steps. As she ran, she could hear the savage struggle behind her for a while. Then there was silence, followed by the steadily closer baying of the monster as it loped to overtake her. She woke gasping, stifling the scream that rose in her throat.
The room was dark. She could hear steady breathing from beyond the row of dressers. The glowing face of small clock on her bedside table read 4:52. Edna realized she’d slept all afternoon and through most of the night. Her bladder signaled an immediate need for relief. She hurried down the hall to the bathroom. When she returned, she undressed in the dark and lay down again, but sound sleep eluded her. She was up and walking down the hall again by 5:30. The bathroom was empty, so she took a shower and washed her hair. It was far too long, she realized. She decided to get it cut much shorter as soon as she could. She’d do something about the gray while she was at it.
She dried herself off and put her towel in a nearby hamper, padded back to her room and began to dress. She decided to wear what she’d had on the day before, but changed her underwear and socks. By then it was six, and she could hear sounds of movement throughout the house. Edna walked down the hall past the bathroom, then around a corner to a broad staircase. She descended to the first floor, where she found herself in a large, many-windowed room furnished with an eclectic collection of upholstered chairs and couches, paired with low tables scattered among them. Shelves filled with books lined the walls. A large flat-screen TV sat atop the mantle of a massive stone fireplace. Its hearth was filled with magazines and comic books. This would be her home for at least the next six months, she realized. The prospect didn’t excite her, but she wasn’t upset by it either. She anticipated that most of the other women here would be younger than her. Edna decided she’d be friendly, but would remain detached from the adolescent behavior she expected to encounter. She’d keep her own counsel and her mouth shut, for the most part. “Lifeboat” would be a refuge, a place to shelter and regroup, while she avoided the burden of the many bad choices she’d made in the past.
Events worked out very much as Edna had foreseen them. Annie, her twenty-year-old roommate, was further along in a difficult pregnancy. She was also an addict, but hadn’t yet been cast aside by her family, who still called her often on her cell-phone. A low level dealer, she’d been raped and nearly killed when a drug buy went sideways. Still walking with a prominent limp, Annie was emblematic of the women in the pale green house. There were also a few older women, long past their pregnancies and beyond their addictions, who remained at the house as Cassandra’s lieutenants. They lived in larger basement rooms, and were free to leave the compound and return as they chose. Edna was told they received a small monthly stipend as well.
Her duties around the group home were not excessive, but they did keep Edna busy. They consisted of laundry and light housework—dusting, mopping, and dish-washing—for the most part, and even these chores were attenuated as her pregnancy advanced and she become less able to work. The food was plain but good. There were field trips beyond the compound walls—visits to museums and movie theaters, and even some picnics at nearby parks as the weather improved. Edna took part in all of them, happy to breathe a little fresh air, careful not to seem too aloof or brooding. She listened far more than she spoke, and in the process heard the longings and hopes of the young women she now lived with. These made her wistful, since many of them echoed her own aspirations from not so very long ago.
Some of the women knew the fathers of their babies, and a few of these believed the men involved would decide to embrace their responsibilities and come for them (one young prostitute remained stubbornly in
love with her pimp). A few said they’d be happy to be free of their condition and the children produced, and looked forward to a fresh, unencumbered new start afterward. The majority were like herself, Edna realized. They dreaded losing their babies, but realized they had wrecked their options with destructive past behavior. Few around her had any idea what they’d do with their lives, once beyond their pregnancies.
After she’d been in “lifeboat,” six weeks, Edna decided to discuss her future with Cassandra. The next time Edna saw her—at lunch, in the kitchen—she asked for a few minutes of her time. They met in Cassandra’s office the next day, after Edna had finished her morning chores. “You want to know what’s going to happen to you, after the baby’s born and taken away from you,” Cassandra said. “Let me ask you this. What would you like to have happen?”
Edna was silent for a few moments, trying to get her thoughts in order. “I’d like a job,” she said, “some kind of meaningful work. All I’ve learned during the past ten years is how to haggle with drug pushers and handle penises. I’m too old to go back to school, I think. I know I wouldn’t like any kind of clerical work. The plain truth is, I’m close to middle age and I don’t know how to do anything.”
“I’ve watched you since you’ve been here, Edna,” Cassandra said. “I think you’re too hard on yourself. You’re quiet, but the younger women look up to you. When you do speak, they tend to listen—the smarter ones, anyway. I think you could have a future here, or in a place like this, helping others recover from the bad mistakes they’ve made.”
Edna was speechless. She’d never considered such a future.
Cassandra laughed, smiled, and clapped her hands. “I knew that would surprise you,” she said. “Think it over, and get back to me. If you decide to go this route, you’ll need some training—CPR, some basic nursing techniques, bookkeeping, computer skills. Nothing that’s past you, Edna. I’ve looked at your college transcripts. Before the drugs got to you, you were smart.”
