Bound and Determined

     “That’s it John, I do not know. I don’t know what it means to have a job that I love and that pays well. I have no idea what it means to be stable with good friends around me. I’ve never had a routine that I can remember. It sounds inviting, but I have no idea what that means. I only know what I’ve been through, and most of it has not been very pretty.”

     He turns the cup of coffee around in its saucer wondering what to say. Fortunately, she saves him from coming up empty handed.

     “Even as a kid, I think I was in some crisis all the time, not really knowing who I was, what I wanted to do, or how to get anyplace.”

     “That’s not unusual. Most kids have no clue,” he adds.

     “I think it was different with me. I don’t even remember most of my childhood, although if I try hard I sometimes remember a few good things but unfortunately a lot of bad things. I often thought I was in some kind of depression, although I never labeled it depression, just a run down gloomy feeling most of the time. I’m really not sure. I mean, how does a kid know she’s headed for the bottom of the barrel? Huh.”

     He takes hold of her hand with a firm grip and squeezes it. He wants to reach out someway to help her, yet, down deep inside, he does not know what to do.

     She continues. “You know, when I first heard that my child was gone, I was stunned. Then, I got angry, then sad, then mad. Now I feel had, taken in by some political legal system that does not want to hear the truth. I’ve submerged most of my feelings. I know they will find their way out and scream loudly. But when that will happen, I’m not sure. I just hope that I don’t do anything I’ll be sorry about for the rest of my life.”

     She pauses to look around at no one in particular, and then talks again.

     “You know, it’s been a while since I’ve actually cried. I’m good at holding back emotionally. Probably not the right thing, but, well, that’s me. Since I left the Hospital, I’ve mostly been alone, not sure who I was with or what I was doing. Maybe I wasn’t really with anybody or really didn’t do much of anything! Now, I need someone to help me get into living.” 

     She looks at John with the sincerest smile he recollects ever seeing. He wonders if she feels the same way. She takes a deep breath as if she’s finished, but no, there is more to say.

     “A day or two after I left the Hospital … maybe it was a week or a month later … I felt I was wandering around in a rain storm not seeing what was ahead of me, but still feeling disoriented. And yes, sorry for myself. I think I was trying to make sense of it all, but down deep, I knew that I couldn’t do that, at least not then. What I do know now that I didn’t know then was that I wanted to be someplace safe, to feel safe, to be safe. In fact, I probably would have taken the illusion of being safe.” She grins as if she just achieved a revelation that’s escaped her all her life. “Does that make sense, John?”

     Rain starts to fall outside, unusual for this time of year. Perhaps it is symbolic, a sign of cleansing. Perhaps it means more. Perhaps it means Susanne will do whatever it takes to get her child back, regardless of the costs, come rain or come shine.

     The question to John goes unanswered since she really did not intend for him to reply.

    “The weeks that led up to the birth, I felt nervous. I guess most mothers get the jitters. But I think this was something else. Maybe I was predicting what actually was going to happen.” She pauses. “Do you believe in fortune telling?”

     He wonders if this is a real question, so he pretends to think of an answer. He squints his eyes as if he is in deep thought. She continues looking at him, as if she is waiting for his reply. “Well, umm, there are some examples of that actually happening.”

     “But do you believe in it?”

     “I’m not sure.”