“Only the principal at the school where I work and maybe a few teachers, but not really,” I explain. I don’t tell him about Caleb or Smitty or even that I play my guitar on the streets.
“Well, at least you do have the principal that you seem to be relatively close to. Does she know?”
“Know what?” I play dumb, because I want him to ask me the full question. He needs to say it aloud so I can hear it. Hearing the words spoken aloud helps me to stay focused on reality and not run around the city with a smile on my face like a lovesick puppy.
“Does she know about your vision?” he asks.
“You mean, does she know that my vision is slipping away from me? And that one day, I will awaken to total darkness? Yes, I’ve told her. Mrs. Fowler is actually the reason I’m here today.”
“What do you mean?” he asks curiously.
“She forced me to make the appointment. Because she’s ‘worried’ about me.”
“I’m thankful you have her to look out for you, Henley,” he says.
The sadness of this entire situation is not really the fact that one day I’ll say goodbye to my vision, but that I’ll say goodbye to it alone. God, I don’t want to be alone.
I lower my head so Dr. Bartholomew won’t notice my eyes filling with tears. I don’t want him to know how much all of this upsets me. But, somehow, he does, because he says, “I’m not trying to upset you, Henley. I just want you to understand how difficult it will be for you to be alone. Especially in the beginning. Later on, after you’ve adjusted, being on your own is a possibility.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Dr. Bartholomew. Don’t ever feel sorry for me, because I don’t need your pity,” I blurt.
He glares at me from across the room with his lips pursed, forehead wrinkled, and eyebrows drawn so near they are almost touching. I lose my focus on him for a second, but as soon as he takes one step in my direction, my vision clears. I have never been afraid of this man, but the look on his face right now along with the quickness of his gait terrifies me.
“Let me explain something to you, Henley,” he says as he approaches me, “you will not do this alone. I won’t allow it, do you understand?”
“This is not your choice, Dr. Bartholomew. It’s mine. My life. My choice. I’m telling you like I told my mother. I’m leaving now, alone. I will not be back, ever. So don’t attempt to find me.”
I step around the small-framed, gray-haired man. As I reach the exit hundreds, maybe thousands of tears fall from my eyes. It’s been so long since I’ve let loose and cried, but it feels so damn good. I feel almost normal. Deep down inside, I know he’s right. Yes, I’m scared. Yes, I’m afraid to do this alone. I live in a world called denial, and it feels great, because reality lives somewhere far away.
The sound of his voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Henley I’m sorry I’ve upset you, but you need to take some time and think about your future.” I glance back over my shoulder and see Dr. Bartholomew standing behind me.
There are no words left to say, so I push the door open and find myself in the lobby. I weave through the furniture until I exit the building. The day is bright, sunny, and warm. Typical fall day for the south.
I tilt my head slightly and let the sun dry my tears. No more crying and no more fear. Now is my time to live my life to the fullest. And I know exactly what I’m going to do first. I huff out a breath, tuck a few loose strands of hair behind my ears, and make my way toward The Drunken Peacock.
Part Two
Caleb
I’ve often heard if you love someone, set them free. If they return to you, then it’s meant to be. I did this once a long time ago, and it almost cost me my heart. But over the years, I’ve learned you should hold onto the one you love. Never let go, always keep her within your reach. And just maybe, you’ll be lucky enough to find your forever. When you do, it’s fucking beautiful.
Fifteen
Henley
Age: Ten
“Mom, what do those words mean?” I repeat the same question I asked her only ten minutes ago. She’s ignoring me. Like always.
She takes a deep breath and sighs. She’s irritated with me. I can tell. Hopefully, I won’t get in trouble, but I don’t think it’s fair that everybody knows what’s wrong with me but me. I may be a kid but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. If I ever have kids, I’ll never lie to them. Or ignore them or be mean to them.
“Don’t worry about what the doctor said, Henley. Those words are not important. At least not now.” My mom grabs my hand before leading me down the stairwell. We’ve been at the hospital all day. It seemed like the doctor sent me to just about every floor for test after test and I’m tired. Tired of this hospital, tired of tests, and tired of being lied to.
Mom shoves open the double doors and we walk out into the heat of central Mississippi. She squeezes my hand tighter as she pulls me into the parking lot. Once we reach her car, she swings around and bends over until she’s eye level with me. “Tell no one that we visited the doctor today. And under no circumstance are you to repeat anything he said.”
She narrows her eyes before raising her other hand toward my face. My reflexes must be working good today, because I flinch and she didn’t even hit me.
She points her finger at me before she continues, “Do you understand?”
I decide to ignore her, because that’s what she’s been doing to me all day. Give her a ‘dose of her own medicine.’ That’s her line, not mine. Mom says it all the time before she does something really mean to somebody.
“Answer me, Henley!” Her voice is louder than before. This is such crap. She can treat me any ole way but the minute I decide to kinda stand up for myself, she starts yelling.
I shrug and nod my head. Maybe she’ll get the message. But she doesn’t because she quickly unlocks the door and shoves me in the backseat. I reach for the seatbelt but she stops me.
Her teeth are clenched together, and her face is red. Okay. She’s mad over the fact I won’t answer her stupid question.
“I don’t know what has gotten into you, but I’m your mother and whatever I tell you to do, you do it. If you continue to have an attitude with me, I will—”
I don’t let her finish that sentence, because it will end in me getting a spanking—her words, not mine. I hurry up and try to make things better by saying, “Yes. I understand, Mom. I just don’t know why you won’t explain to me what that R word and that P word mean. If I’m dying, then I think it is only fair that you tell me.” Now she’ll feel guilty. Because of the dying comment. I know I’m not dying, but she doesn’t know that I know.
Her eyes are shiny just like they always are before she cries. Great. Now she’s gonna cry. Well, it serves her right. She should explain to me what the doctor said and maybe I wouldn’t hurt her feelings. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do—my words.
“We’ll talk about it later. Just you and me. But you’re not dying. I promise,” she tells me. Then she latches my seatbelt and kisses my forehead.
“I love you, Mom,” I whisper.
This will make her happy. She’ll probably cry, but at least her tears will be happy tears.
“I love you too, Henley. Always and forever,” she says as she closes my door.
I really hope she’s telling the truth. A part of me wants so badly to believe her, but she’s my mom. And she doesn’t tell the truth… a lot. I cross my fingers before tucking them behind my back. Crossed fingers always work. She should tell me, and if she doesn’t I’ll tell my grandma there’s something wrong with me and she’ll take care of the rest.
Sixteen
Henley
Age: Eighteen
“It happens in stages, Henley. It’s not like you will go to bed with your vision intact and wake up the next morning in total darkness. It just doesn’t happen that quickly,” Dr. Bartholomew explains.
“I don’t understand how this happened. Why didn’t anybody tell me? Y’all just let me believ
e that everything was okay. That I had some kind of eye disease that just had to be watched because it could cause me some problems down the road. And now I find out that one day, I will completely lose my sight.” My gaze shifts from Dr. Bartholomew to my mom before I continue. “This is complete bullshit. You should both be ashamed of yourselves for allowing me to believe there was nothing wrong with me!” I yell.
“Henley, watch your mouth. You will not be disrespectful. Do you understand?” my mom blurts out.
“Disrespectful? Don’t you both agree that’s the treatment I’ve been receiving for the last eight years? I haven’t been a child for a long time, and today on my eighteenth birthday, you two spring it on me. Hell, I thought it was normal to have my eyes checked twice a year. Nobody ever told me any different.” I inhale deeply. “I guess I just got the answers to most of my questions. Thanks a lot!” I scream.
“Stop with all the drama, Henley. This is your life now and the sooner you embrace it, the better off you’ll be,” my mom tells me.
“Drama—embrace my life? Have you lost your mind? My vision is not good. I’ve known that for a few years. The glasses don’t help, so I don’t wear them. I never say anything, because… well, I guess I trusted you to be honest with me. But now it’s obvious that honesty is not your strong suit.”
“I know you’re shocked Henley, and to be completely honest with you, I didn’t realize you weren’t aware of your condition. You and I never discussed it during your appointments, but I’ve spent many hours going over everything with your parents. I assumed they discussed it with you.” Dr. Bartholomew’s voice is full of concern. His gaze moves toward my mom. She’s nervous, wringing her hands in her lap. Busted. She’s been lying to the doctor all these years.
“So, you basically told Dr. Bartholomew not to tell me anything during my appointments, because you and dad would discuss my condition with me later?” I demand.
My parents have been divorced since I was five. My dad lives about an hour away from us, but he always visits. At least, he used to. His visits are not as frequent, now that I’m older. I just hate to think he was in on this with her.
“Henley, you have to understand I was only trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to spend your childhood worrying about something that would not affect you until you were middle-aged,” she pleads.
I glance back toward the doctor, before asking, “Is that true?”
Without hesitation he responds, “Yes and no. You see Henley, some people are not legally blind until their forties, but some lose their vision much earlier. It’s difficult to put an exact age on it, because everyone is different. I apologize that you are just now learning about this. I have to say that I’m extremely disappointed about this entire situation.” He looks at my mom. She immediately cuts her eyes to the left to avoid any kind of visual contact with him.
“I need to get out of here.”
My mom stands and moves toward me.
“Don’t,” I tell her as I raise my arm between the two of us, “I’m going back to the hotel alone. I will either walk or take a cab. We’ll talk about this later.”
“You will not walk the streets of New Orleans alone,” she demands.
God, this woman is going to cause me to lose my mind. Now I know why she was always hovering over me, never letting me be a normal kid. That first doctor—the one who originally diagnosed me—told her I was going blind. I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was only ten years old, and I begged her to tell me what was wrong with me. But the only thing she could do was tell me that I wasn’t going to die. What a bitch. I partly blame myself for keeping my head buried in the sand. I should have seen the signs. I’m either really naïve or stupid. I hate to think I’m stupid. But maybe that would explain a lot more than just my eyesight.
“Fine, then can we leave? I’m ready to get out of here.”
“Do you have any questions, Henley?” Dr. Bartholomew asks.
“Yes sir. I have a thousand questions, but today is not the day for them. I’m not in the right frame of mind to discuss my future right now. I’m sure my mother can fill me in on anything I need to know.” I cut my eyes at her. Her gaze immediately moves away from me and toward the doctor. She stands and smiles at him, as if everything is just wonderful in her world. I can’t stay here and watch her pretend our lives are perfect. So I get up from my chair and head toward the door.
“Where are you going?” she nags.
“Away from here,” I tell her as I pull open the door.
“You need to wait a second, because I’m not quite done.” She points her finger in my direction, as if I’m a small child and can’t be trusted to walk outside alone.
I close the door and wait for her. Control. Over me, to be exact. That’s what she wants. She doesn’t have that power over anyone else in her life, so she directs all her shortcomings toward me. But there are a few things she’s about to learn. One is that I’m not putting up with her shit much longer.
My mom continues her conversation with Dr. Bartholomew while I wait patiently. She thinks she’s won. But little does she know this war ain’t over yet.
Seventeen
Henley
Age: Twenty-Four
“I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding a teaching job back home,” my mother says as she shuffles the boxes around the living room of our apartment. Yes, our apartment. The last six years have been an absolute living hell. When I moved to Ruston, Louisiana to attend college, guess who thought she had to uproot her life and follow me.
“What if your vision deteriorates so bad you can’t drive?” she would ask. “What if you need me? I can’t stand the thought of you being alone in a strange town, with your vision changing so quickly,” she would explain.
What could I do? Absolutely nothing. I was doomed to live with my mother for eternity. She quickly found a decent job here and then found us a two-bedroom apartment and the rest is, well… history. But all this togetherness is about to change.
“I already have an interview set up for next week,” I tell her.
“So soon? Don’t you have to pass some national test or something?”
“Yes, but this school would be willing to hire me while I’m waiting to take my test.”
“Oh? Which school is it?” she asks.
“It’s not important,” I whisper, hoping like hell her wrath isn’t about to become my reality. But I know it’s inevitable. She is going to lose her shit.
“It is important. You’ve worked hard, and I’m proud of you.”
Okay, so now I’m feeling a bit guilty, but I know my current mood will pass once she learns the truth.
I avoid her gaze as I say, “I’m not going home… with you. I’m moving on with my life. Alone.” I close my eyes and inhale deeply. Preparing for what’s about to come. And she doesn’t disappoint.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Henley. You’re talking crazy. Now let’s get everything loaded on the trailer. The movers will be back tomorrow to get the rest,” she says with confusion in her voice.
“I’m not being ridiculous. If you will listen to me for once, you will understand what I’m telling you. I am not going back to Mississippi with you.” I turn to face her, determined not to back down. She will not bully me into doing what she wants.
“You will go back home with me. Then you will find a teaching job and work until you are unable to continue with your daily tasks. And then—”
I cut her off, “And then what? I will sit home day after day just existing? Waiting to die so I can be taken away from this miserable world? Because that’s where I’m living. In a fucking miserable world. I have no life and for the last twenty-four years, I’ve done exactly what I’ve been told. But that ends today. I can’t do this anymore.” I gather the last of what remains on the end table and toss it into a box.
“You ungrateful little—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I interrupt.
My gaze meets hers but there’s
no fire there. Only hurt and disappointment. God, I am an ungrateful little bitch.
“I have spent my entire life taking care of you. Making sure you have what you need. You’re my entire world, Henley. It’s my job to protect you. Even if it’s from something out of my control.” Her voice is thick with sadness.
I look away from her and take a deep breath. Maybe she really means what she says, or maybe she’s just trying to manipulate my emotions. But at this point, it doesn’t matter. My mind is made up. I’m doing this. On my own. Alone. Without the help of my overprotective, overbearing mother.
“Well, now you don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m a grown woman with a college education. I can and will get a job and make my own way,” I explain.
For some reason, I’m not that upset. My eyes are dry, my voice full of confidence, and my emotions intact. This is going so much smoother than I originally planned.
“That’s not what I mean. I can’t help but worry about you. I love you. I don’t want us to fight. I only want you with me so I know you’re okay. Please don’t do this,” she says as tears fall from her eyes. She inhales deeply. “We don’t have to go back home to Mississippi. I’ll go with you. Wherever you want to live and work. You can get your own place, and I’ll live nearby. Just don’t try to do this alone.”
I stop packing and turn toward my mom. Her face is buried in her hands. She’s trying to hide the tears, but it’s no use. They continue to flow from her eyes, over her hands, and down her arms. The sounds escaping her throat pretty much cut me to the core. Everything is suddenly more real. And I’m sorry. Sorry, because I’ve been cursed with this genetic disease that affects one in four thousand people worldwide. Sorry that I am ungrateful, and most of all, sorry I want to be alone, away from her and anybody else who knows what I’m facing. I can do this, and if it takes me being hateful and a little mean, then that’s what I’ll do.
Beautiful Tomorrow: A Twisted Fate Novel Page 9