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| Some of it's Magic - Some of it's Tragic
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A typical Monday morning finds me cleaning up a weekend mess. Not the usual renegade dust bunnies or cobwebs gone wild kind of mess I mind but flowers and foliage from my cousins’ son’s wedding. With a little help from my friends and at the temporary expense of my kitchen and dining room, I decked the halls, walls, tables, gazebo, and wedding party in a cornucopia of autumn splendor. The results were magic.
I want to finish by noon because I have errands to run. In addition, I need to pick up my daughter from work study and deliver her to school for afternoon classes, grabbing lunch along the way. Mission Accomplished! After the bank, I stop by the office on my day off for a quick discussion with my boss.
A ½ hour mini meet turns into a 2 ½ hour marathon. As I wonder about the time I realize I don’t have my cell phone. I’m forever walking off without it. I remember moving it off the passengers seat when my daughter got into the car and clipping it to the visor. I bid my boss farewell because the kids will be home from school any minute. The youngest are 16 and 14. They could care less if I'm there when they get home but I like to be around, if possible.
My mind and body are in constant motion always rushing from one thing to the next. Unlock the door, slide behind the wheel, key in the ignition, shift into reverse, back out, and head home taking the road less traveled, the alley. I'm 5 minutes from home if I make all the lights.
I pull my phone off the visor and toss it into my purse so I don't forget it again but something catches my eye as it leaves my hand. Keeping both eyes on traffic I feel around the passenger’s seat to retrieve it. With a stop sign to obey I steal a glance at my phone. An alert for 2 missed calls and 1 text message hangs on the screen. I’m slightly alarmed and take a deep breath then exhale slowly; trying to calm myself from a fear I can’t define.
If I don’t look to see who called the status quo remains. An argument between me, myself, and I ends abruptly at a red light. Like a train wreck, I can’t avert my gaze. A cryptic text from my niece “Didi, where are you now?” A phone call from my sister in the middle of the day? The other call isn’t from a number in my phone book but instant recognition catapults undefined fear into abject terror.
My hands tremble. I drop the phone on the other seat relieved to be rid of it like a grenade with the pin pulled. Two voice mails go unheard. If I don't listen tragedy can't take up residence in my world. I wrestle with the uncertain certainty that a call on my cell from the police means something’s horribly wrong.
Every fiber of my being screams ‘get home’ - NOW! The kids will be there – safe. Everything will be fine. Yet a hundred fractured scenarios speed furiously through my mind in rapid-fire succession. My heart accelerates as I fight nausea welling up in me. Time and traffic screech to a grinding halt. Some unknown assailant has me fighting for air like I’m drowning in cold murky water instead of driving in the sunshine of an Indian summer afternoon.
I turn onto my street and don’t see my mother’s car. It should be here. It’s now past time for my son to be home. I tell myself it’s OK. They’ll be along soon. My daughter’s inside. Everything’s fine. I pull into the driveway, throw it in park, and get out of the car before it stops completely. The pounding of my head and heart echoes my footsteps as I run for the house. I throw open the door and instinctively recoil. I know I’m alone except for the dogs. I run through the house screaming for my daughter anyway. Silence and the silhouette of the dogs through the den door are my only reply. The dogs haven’t been out. No one is home. Hope crumbles like a stale Girl Scout cookie.
Panic rushes in forcing air out. Lungs deflate. Chest constricts. I can’t breathe. What to do? The phone. Find the damn phone. In it are answers to the unimaginable questions I fear. I’m unknowingly clutching the phone and the keys in my hand. My inner voice commands me to call my sister. She will soften the blow of bad news. She’s the family diplomat. As I fumble to find her number the phone rings in my hand. Adrenaline shoots through my veins; the ringing assaults my ears and frays what’s left of my nerves. Caller ID says it’s my niece. The cold clammy flood of fear envelops me. It’s not too late. Run and hide. Leave it. Ignore it. Reject the call. Ring. Ring. Ring. Don’t answer it!
I do.
“What’s wrong?”
Listen!
Focus!
“What?” NO!
Impossible!
Stop! Don’t! NO!
Push it away.
No. No. NO! Don’t listen. Oh my God NOOOOOooooooo.
Tony is dead. My nephew is gone?
But how? Why? It’s a mistake! A lie. How? Did she say he….NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO……Oh my God - No.
Bullseye!
Shot through the heart.
It’s an L-I-E! Must be! Has to be!
Suicide.
I shatter from the sudden impact like a stone hitting the windshield.
Tsunami-sized waves of pain radiate outward flooding every raw nerve ending.
NO!!! Can’t process the pain of it.
Gasping.
It’s dragging me down.
Quicksand.
Sucking me under.
Suffocating me.
Mercifully, shock replaces anguish.
My blood runs cold.
Mind and body go numb.
“Where are you?”
“Be right there.”
Move feet, m-o-v-e!
Stumble back to the car. GO!
Gotta get to my mother’s. HURRY!!!
Back out of the drive.
Head down the street.
Turn the corner.
My body catches up with my mind.
Quivering turns to a quake.
Shivering, shuddering, shaking….
Grips me in a chokehold.
Can’t control the shaking.
STOP!
Can’t hold the wheel.
STOP driving.
Pull over.
NOW!
Breathe.
The sobs wrack my body.
I crack.
The unintelligible screams splintering an autumn kaleidoscope into sharp shards of agony
are my own.
Moans and wails of anguish crash headlong into reality.
Oh, MY God!
The kids!!!!
Where, oh where are the kids?
Gotta find them.
Oh Nooooooooooooooooooooo.
Someone has to tell the kids.
WHO?!?
No. NO. NO ONE but me.
Oh God, the kids. Oh My God where are they?
Find the kids. GO now.
Calm down.
Get to Moms. GO! NOW!
Drive, damn it.
One mile. Just one.
DRIVE!
FOCUS!
Concentrate.
Hold the wheel with both hands.
Down the street.
Around the corner.
Turn right.
Breathe.
Left into the complex.
Almost there.
One more left then straight ahead.
I see Mom’s house.
Park the car between the lines.
STOP!
My eyes never leave the house.
Get out of the car.
Walking fast – running.
Watching the door.
It opens.
My daughter appears.
We lock eyes.
Oh My God – it’s true.
Run faster.
I see it.
Her sweet tear-stained face ashen from agony.
She crumples before my eyes…
And into my arms - without a word.
Gotta find my son. Must see him for myself.
Past these people. Find him!
My sister, Tony's mother is next. I don’t know what to say. I tell her with a hug.
My mother, holding the door, looks small, frail, and broken. Shocked! She buried a daughter and now a grandson. Unthinkable! We hug and cry. Over her shoulder I see heartbreak.
My son.
My baby.
Alone, head in his hands, trying not to cry or be seen crying.
Everyone else in the room evaporates.
He is all I see.
My whole world in that instant as I bridge the distance between us.
He’s safe.
I hug him tight with relief for me and sorrow for his pain.
My kids are all safe.
My oldest two are grown and live in worlds removed from this nightmare of mine. I, who sheltered them always, am about to shatter their innocence and force feed them heartache. I can’t fathom doing it. I won’t let anyone else. I won’t be there as this rips them apart. I can’t get them home until they know. I don’t have any words or the voice to speak them. I am ill-equipped to play this hand myself. How can I deal it? I love them more than life itself so I will speak the words that rob them of hope and replace it with pure unadulterated pain.
Then I will pick up the pieces.
Two calls.
Two more lives implode.
Their screams across time and space fracture what little is left of me.
Nothing will look or feel the same again – ever.
I turn back to the stage set before me…
As the dark curtain of tragedy descends...
The magic is lost.
ILY Always & Forever A.J.B.
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Posted by Xaris on 2008-10-02 19:12:57 | Rating: | Views: 45
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My heart goes out to you. I can not imagine but the way this was so well written, for a few minutes I was there with you. In the car, in the house, on the phone.
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Posted by angelgulick
on 2008-10-03 21:03:09
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Thank you for your empathy and comments. On October 8th it will be one year since Tony died. It's taken me all this time to be able to write about it. Some days I can't let myself think about it, if I want to make it through in one piece. Time, of course, is a great healer and it's become easier for me to accept the unacceptable. It's when I watch my children struggle with it still that my heart breaks. I appreciate you taking the time to leave a comment. Again, my thanks :o)
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Posted by Xaris
on 2008-10-05 07:38:07
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