by Zakes Mda
In the meantime, Nana Moira is busy packing goods in her GMC Suburban. She has added another dimension to the Centre’s services making personal deliveries to the township’s old folk. She realised that there were many people not getting assistance from the Centre because they could not walk there and stand in line. They had no one to send either. Sometimes a neighbour helped, but in many cases folks were downright selfish. They only looked after their own. When the plight of the indigent seniors was brought to her attention she undertook to make regular deliveries to them. And these do not comprise only food, but other necessities as well, such as toilet paper, diapers and underpads for the incontinent.
She harnesses Blue in his car seat and drives all over Jensen delivering the items. This takes the whole afternoon, right up to dusk, because she doesn’t just leave the items at the door, except for the folks she doesn’t particularly like; for instance, those who annoyed her taking the wrong side in the feud between the Bouchers and the De Klerks. For most folks she knocks, enters with Blue in tow, puts the parcels on the kitchen table, and sits down to gossip a bit. And then moves on to the next person on the list.
It is evening when she hobbles into the last home, a trailer in the woods at the far end of Jensen. She is holding a plastic bag containing toilet paper and diapers with one hand, her walking stick in the other as she works her way up the muddy driveway. Blue follows with a small parcel of groceries. No one answers when she taps the door with the walking stick. She tries the door. It is not locked. She enters, calling the old lady’s name. She hears laboured breathing and a groan in the bedroom. The old lady is lying on her bed, she is obviously in pain and has messed herself. Nana Moira immediately dials 911 on her cellphone and asks for an ambulance.
She will not leave until the ambulance comes. She knows that Blue should be home by now. Rachel will yell at her. Nana Moira has tried to call her three times, but Rachel doesn’t answer her cellphone. Perhaps she is busy practising new songs on her guitar, and the cellphone is recharging in her bedroom. She gets so engrossed lately. Nana Moira wishes she had not dropped the landline.
Nana Moira bathes the old lady while Blue watches the television. She has to go very lightly with the soaped sponge because the old lady has bedsores. Under her breath Nana Moira curses the old lady’s two daughters and son, who left Jensen for greener pastures years ago and don’t do a thing for their mother. They stopped caring when she refused to go to rest.
By the time Nana Moira and Blue get home it is way past nine. Rachel’s car is not in the driveway. The house is dark. No Rachel anywhere. Nana Moira worries a bit. Rachel never goes anywhere. Not since they took Schuyler away. The only time she travels is when she has a gig with Rain. And she didn’t speak of any gig.
Nana Moira prepares pasta with chunky tomato sauce, but Blue has lost all appetite. He had been stuffing himself with potato chips and candy throughout Nana Moira’s rounds in the township. She tucks him in in the bedroom he shares with his mom.
By morning Rachel has not returned. Nana Moira dials her number and the phone rings in Rachel’s bedroom. And there it is on a charger on her nightstand.
Nana Moira’s biggest fear is that her granddaughter has relapsed. Perhaps the visit to the lawyer was too much for her. The looming custody battle has sent her head reeling back into the instability of the past. Perhaps she is lying drunk in the gutter in some back alley in the city.
Her fears are warranted, but for different reasons. Rachel has relapsed, yes, but not into drugs, alcohol and PTSD nightmares.
Yesterday she drove to the meeting in Stewart and was overwhelmed by the welcome she received. There were many new faces, but they had all heard of her. Even though she had not been aware of it, her lone protests in front of the Jensen Township Building had made an impact. They led to further investigations of the mismanagement of finances by the township trustees who were trying to make up for the shortfall with funds they hoped to receive from fracking companies. All three trustees had to resign, and the township roads were saved from brine. All this was news to Rachel.
The activists were surprised she had not known of these developments. She does not tell them these events are likely to have taken place when she was drunk. Nana Moira never mentioned them to her because she is not interested in politics and thinks all politicians are the scum of the earth. Whenever the women of the Quilting Circle gossip about some election shenanigan or about some trustee who has resigned because of some corrupt act, she dismisses the whole discussion with: “Them rascals, they’re at it again.”
Rachel relished being surrounded by admiring faces of the younger and newer members of Appalachia Active, gratified to receive recognition for work of which she had only a vague memory.
The Stewart meeting was the starting point of a protest march to the hydraulic fracturing waste-storage site of Raven-Hunter Water. Rachel learned this was the same company that had the brine disposal arrangement with the trustees of Jensen Township. This time Appalachia Active was protesting a planned expansion of the site. According to news reports, Raven-Hunter Water had applied for a permit from the Ohio Coast Guard to use a barge to ship frack waste across the Ohio River. The barge would carry half a million gallons of brine per load.
“The river is the source of drinking water for more than five million people in eastern Ohio and western Pennsylvania,” said one of the leaders of the protest march as she handed out posters and placards. Rachel grabbed one of the placards that read: Keep the Frack Out of My Water. Though she had not planned to attend a protest march and thought she was only attending a meeting, she could not turn her back on folks who thought she was such a hero.
About two hundred protesters converged at the site, all carrying signs that read variously: Protect our Water, Science Isn’t an Option, We Want a Real Hearing, and Another Voter for Clean Water. Others held huge posters of skulls attached to sticks. The protesters crowded at the gate of the site and no truck could drive in or out. The trucks stood roaring impatiently on both sides of the gate.
Rachel led the chant: “How many kids must die of cancer?” and the crowd responded in unison: “Before ODNR wakes up!” ODNR is the Ohio Department of Natural Resources.
Suddenly the spirit of revolution possessed her; she grabbed an American flag from one of the protesters and climbed on one of the trucks. She stood on top of it and waved the flag, which seemed to drive the protesters into a frenzy of chants and cusswords against both the fracking companies and ODNR.
It took all of five hours for the police to arrive, by which time it was already evening. They dragged Rachel down from the truck and handcuffed her. About thirteen other protesters were arrested. She spent the night in the holding cells, and in the morning she was informed she was being released.
“You’re lucky you’ll get away with a warning this time,” the officer said. “Otherwise you’d be going for arraignment. Next time you do this you’ll face aggravated trespassing.”
When the time comes for Nana Moira to go to work and Rachel has not returned Nana Moira finds herself missing Schuyler. She would have just called Schuyler and Schuyler would know where Rachel is.
After cleaning and feeding Blue her phone rings just when she is about to leave with him to go to the Centre. It is Rachel. She is calling from Jessica Urbaniak’s office. No, there is nothing serious, Jessica is not there yet, but her secretary allowed her to make a call.
“Please, Nana Moira, come and pick me up.”
“What happened?” asks Nana Moira. “Your car broke or what?”
“I left it in Stewart. Just pick me up and drop me there.”
“What happened, Rachel? What have you gone and done?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here, Nana Moira.”
Nana Moira opens the Centre for the women of the Quilting Circle, asks them to look after Blue, and then drives to the city to get her granddaughter.
By eight Rachel and Nana Moira are already waiting outside the magistrate’s o
ffice, even though they were told the hearing would start at nine. They debated whether Blue was required to be there or not. Nana Moira said the law would pounce on them if they didn’t bring him along, but Rachel said Jessica Urbaniak would have told them to bring Blue if his presence was required. She wouldn’t have forgotten to inform them of such an important thing. Nana Moira dropped him at the Centre before they repaired to the Athens County Courthouse.
The two women huddle together on the brown bench upholstered in soft faux leather. It is one of two placed in the foyer on both sides of the magistrate’s office entrance. This must be the courthouse furniture scheme because when Rachel spent hours in this building during the rape case she sat on a similar bench, only on the third floor. The magistrate’s office is on the fourth floor.
People come in and out of the offices that open to the lobby. Rachel can spot the lawyers immediately from their dark suits and their look of self-importance. Colleagues meet in the lobby, talk in stage whispers, laugh and pat each other on the back, and rush into one or other of the offices. Rachel is getting bored. She mutes the volume on her phone and plays Angry Birds.
About an hour later Jessica Urbaniak arrives. She looks frumpy in her black pants suit, a far cry from the glamorous Kayla Trenta, Rachel’s image of the epitome of female lawyers. Urbaniak nods a greeting at the two women and enters the office.
A few minutes later Jason, Genesis and his wife, and Mr Troy arrive. All the men are in suits, including Genesis. He must take this hearing even more seriously than the rape case because he was never in a suit there. Or he just wants to create a good impression for the magistrate. Rachel’s heart beats faster as they approach, and she thinks her head will burst. But she does not look at them. She focuses on exploding the green pigs by slinging birds at them. She is about to explode the last three pigs in order to unlock the next level of the game and will not let Jason mess that up for her. He will not make her relapse either. She has no intention of breaking down or sobbing or screaming even though her chest wants to explode like the green pigs in the Angry Birds. She is a strong woman. Urbaniak told her so the other day. She is a fucking strong woman and Jason better be aware of that. She is here to fight, not to break down.
More pigs explode.
Jason, Genesis and his wife take the other bench and sit there quietly. They do not even glance at the two women but stare straight ahead. Rachel steals a glance at them. Jason has matured quite a bit. He even grows a handlebar moustache like his father. Rachel recalls that Skye had a similar moustache when she last saw him. Perhaps that’s what makes Appalachian men feel like men. She hates it that a thought about Skye brings an image of Jason in her mind and vice versa. It is an indicator that she is not completely healed. But they are not helping her when they sport the same moustache.
Nana Moira is undaunted. She is staring at the two men, hoping they will turn their heads her way so she can outbrave them. But they never do. They just stare at the wall. Genesis’ wife takes a glance at Nana Moira and gives her a sad smile. Nana Moira smiles back and shakes her head pityingly. Genesis’ wife returns the gesture, and quickly looks away. She is not a bad woman, Nana Moira tells herself. What a pity she is married to an oaf like Genesis. And what a pity Nana Moira has never known her name. She’s always been just Genesis’ wife since Genesis remarried after years as a widower. She is always just a shadow in the background. Nana Moira suspects Genesis’ wife is not in favour of all this conflict between families. But she is too weak to put her foot down and whip these silly men into line.
The bombastic Troy and dowdy Urbaniak spend a long time locked in negotiations. Finally Urbaniak comes out and calls her client aside. They walk into a library adjacent to the reception desk. Urbaniak tells Rachel that the plaintiff has made an offer. He will withdraw the sole custody claim and opt for joint custody if Rachel signs the agreement.
“No, I’m not gonna sign,” she says firmly.
“You gotta listen to what the lawyer says afore you say no,” says Nana Moira.
“It is her decision, Mrs Boucher.”
“What if I’ve a different opinion?” asks Nana Moira.
“I’m afraid you don’t count.”
Nana Moira looks wounded.
“Sorry, you do count. But Rachel has the final word.”
“I’m not gonna sign,” says Rachel.
Urbaniak explains slowly as if talking to a child that the plaintiff claims he has damning evidence that Rachel neglects the child while she attends protest marches, gets drunk and stoned, and gets arrested. She warns Rachel that the courts don’t look kindly on such behaviour and it will weigh against her in favour of the stability of Jason’s family. The magistrate, Emma Sussman, is known for taking a firm stand against women who are proven to be irresponsible mothers and has quite often granted custody to fathers and only supervised visitations to mothers. Lawyers who represent mothers hate to appear before her in such matters because they believe she overcompensates. In order not to be seen as a woman jurist who is biased in favour of female litigants she errs on the wrong side.
Rachel reads Urbaniak’s unstated message loud and clear: sign the darn document or you’re toast.
“I will not sign,” she says once more, even firmer than before.
They do not appear before the magistrate that day. A continuance is set and they are given another court date.
In the days that follow Rachel is effervescent. She is singing all the time as she cleans the house or waters Nana Moira’s pot plants – chores she has always hated. When everything is spick and span she plays with Blue and teaches him new songs. They sing together. Or she packs a picnic basket and they head for the woods where she continues to sing with Blue. In the evening she writes a long letter to Schuyler telling her how happy she is, and how she misses her. If only she were here to share her happiness. She does not say what has put her in such a giddy mood.
Nana Moira on the other hand is in the dumps. Her cackling laughter is heard less, and the Quilting Circle women notice the change. They don’t enjoy her company as much as they used to because she is either brooding or she snaps at somebody for some imagined sin.
Rachel tries to change her grandmother’s mood by taking her to town and treating her to her favourite meal of hush puppies, fish, fries and coleslaw at Long John Silver’s on East State. She buys her other treats too, especially those that satisfy an old lady’s sweet tooth. All these efforts fail to impress Nana Moira. She stays brooding and tetchy.
She is sitting on an egg that refuses to hatch. How does she tell Rachel of the family secret she once revealed to the counsellor? Though the counsellor long stopped phoning her about telling Rachel, she feels that perhaps that is why things are always going awry for the family – the fact that she has been keeping this to herself. Rachel’s bubbly mood worries her no end. She prays it is not a ticking bomb.
As far as Rachel is concerned the only thing that ticks is the clock on the wall as she strums her guitar at Donkey. R-n-R has a gig there with a bunch of storytellers and spoken-word artists. This is not a paying engagement, but Rain does not hesitate to drive all the way from her Blue Ridge Mountains home just to spend some time with Rachel. There is an ulterior motive, though. She wants to plead Skye’s case once again.
“He’s lovesick like a puppy,” says Rain as they sit at the table waiting for their orders.
“Then he should go find love,” says Rachel. There is no anger in her, which encourages Rain to argue further.
“He found it already, but didn’t know it. Now he knows he found it in you.”
One of the performers places their lattes and hard oatmeal cookies on the table.
“I don’t love anybody.”
“You love your grandma, and your friend Schuyler that you told me about, and your baby Blue, and even insufferable me.”
“I don’t love any man, I mean. Too much trouble.”
“My brother is not just any man,” says Rain, losing patience with her
friend. “And he loves you. Don’t you understand that? Whatever he did to you he’s sorry about it.”
“He says so?”
“He can’t figure out what he did to you. But whatever it is he is very sorry and would like you to get together again and he’s going to make you a very happy woman.”
“Fuck your brother,” says Rachel. And then she giggles. But to Rain this is no laughing matter. She loves her brother. And she has come to love Rachel too. They would be great together.
The hearing is held in Magistrate Emma Sussman’s office, which she has converted into a mini-courtroom. For the gallery there are two benches against the wall at the back. Nana Moira sits on one, Genesis and his wife on the other. They are the only people in the gallery. The magistrate, a petite grey-haired woman with a stern look, sits at a large desk, in front of which there are two smaller desks. Rachel and Urbaniak are at one desk, and Jason and Troy at the other. Plaintiff and defendant have been sworn.
Jason presents his case from where he is sitting. Unlike Judge Stonebrook’s court there is no witness stand. He outlines his complaint, led by Troy. Parents have a constitutional right to parent their children, he says. He is being denied his rights by Rachel, who even refuses him visitation. He loves his son and would like to have a say in the way he is brought up and in his religious upbringing. It is his understanding that his son gets no religious education as he is being brought up by people without religion and therefore without fear of the living God. He, on the other hand, is a member and a lay preacher of the Reformed Church in America, baptised under the name Revelation de Klerk. It is the religion of his ancestors of which he is proud and it is his wish that his son grows up in it. He also fears for his child’s morality if he is raised in the Boucher family. Rachel is an immoral woman who gets drunk and takes drugs, as the evidence to be presented by witnesses will show, and she is also a vagabond who spends her time in protest marches or playing her guitar in skanky dives, neglecting his son and leaving him in the care of an ailing old woman with weak arthritic knees.