Something More

by Leigh Beckford

  Once again silence gives way to that chilling dead air.

  Chapter 20

  The mother of a young child gasps for breath as she tries to protect her child from the impending vehicle. A loud thud is heard and then for a moment all is calm. Just before passing out there is an eerie silence amidst what is actual melee as the elements in her world slows to a halt. She regains consciousness sometime later, awakening to a medic leaning over her trying to resuscitate her. Immediately panic sets in and she asks, “Where is my baby?” The answer to that question being too gruesome for words the medic tries hard to console her as he avoids answering her question. She grows more frantic, “Where is my baby she repeats. Will you please answer me? Tell me where my baby is.”

  It was barely an hour ago that she and Vanessa, her closest friend in her adopted city, was on a play date with both of their kids. Joanna knew that a play date was a bit farfetched, after all Calista is so young, still she Joanna needed this. Social life seeming a bit stagnant, she felt she was long due for adult interaction outside of work and happily accepted Vanessa’s invitation for the play date. The women and children spent much of the afternoon being pampered at a spa. The actual act of talking about men, relationships and being mothers between the massages, manicures, and mimosas was very refreshing. This was a big departure from the countless hours of talking marketing strategies and the untranslatable language that is baby talk that she shares with Calista. Following the spa and a little shopping they then headed back to Vanessa’s home for dinner. It was such a relaxing evening that no one was prepared for what was to come. Vanessa will soon retell the waving of goodnight to Joanna. She will report that Joanna was holding her baby in her arms about to hail a cab. She will say how she grew frightened by the look on Joanna’s face just before the tragedy struck. She will speak of the van failing to break as it went careening towards her friend. She will with tear-filled eyes recall poor Calista. She will sit with her therapist and open up about her inability to sleep for weeks.

  The mood in the ambulance grows tenser as the driver makes way to St. Vincent's Hospital. At this moment no one else matters in all of Sydney or anywhere else in the world to Joanna as she pleads for an answer. To calm her down the medic preps a sedative. As he is about to inject her, she holds firmly to his wrist with one final plea, “I will calm down, but first can you please tell me where my daughter is?”

  Still there is no answer, however just from reading his face she gathers that there is no reason for one. No longer able to maintain his stoicism, his expression becomes one of empathy, sympathy, and loss bundled altogether. Joanna screams as she feels a pain she has never felt before, the kind mothers who has been in her position will tell you is far too great for words. After a tinge in her left shoulder she grows calmer. Tears stream down her cheeks to the back of her head and the medic tries his best to dry her face. Joanna lies still, fighting to remain conscious, weighing her thoughts, while refusing to believe that this is all happening. She succumbs to sleep. When she awakes it will be obvious to all around her that shock has set in and hysteria is soon to follow.

  Chapter 21

  Feeling pensive, Valde ventures to the café on the ground floor of his apartment building. The décor here could use some sprucing up however he is in the mood to people watch while catching up on some work and grabbing a bite. Since neither the décor nor the coffee provided the attraction here, then there must certainly be another lure for him, after all there are about ten more diners or cafes within just a few blocks of him that would better appeal to him and his palate. The magnetism of the place lied not in its rustic ambience but rested solely in the bosom of this one particularly playful brunette with the most expressive eyes, who generously lend her charm to the venue. Valde would occasionally flirt with her, she has always been receptive if not reciprocal, and still he had yet to ask her out. There is no band on her finger, not that it would have created much of a setback for she certainly seems interested. He supposes, no he knows, that he didn’t want to have to relocate to another café and miss out on their brief conversations should a summer fling with her burn out before autumn. Still, he sometimes wondered what winter would be like for him and her bundled up together before a fire while it’s cold outside.

  “Good morning Val”, she says in strained but jovial tone.

  “Good morning Rachel.”

  “Will it be your usual today?”

  “Yes the usual it is,” he replies smiling and marveling at her eyes, “By the way, how is your mom?”

  “She is fine. She is doing better. She is dealing with it. Actually, we are all dealing with it.”

  “I know it must be something for you and your family to be going through.”

  A couple weeks ago Val ran into the café to quickly grab a croissant where he discovered Rachel behind the counter on the verge of tears. She was nowhere near being her usual self instead of cheerful she was quite desolate and anxious. Unfamiliar with her being like this, he felt the need to ask her what was wrong. She revealed to him that earlier in the day her mom was diagnosed with a malignant neoplasm in her left breast. In between intermittent spells of sobbing she relayed that her fears were further compounded by the fact that her maternal grandmother died from a metastatic tumor which originated from the same site. With what little time he had he did what he could to console her. Then she was grateful for his words of support and today she is just as thankful. “Thank you for asking,” she says, “It’s very sweet of you to care.”

  “I can’t begin to understand what you are going through but I know that I would be devastated by such news if I was in your position.”

  “Thank you for such kind words and for taking the time to comfort me. I know that you are very busy so I just want you to know that I appreciate it.”

  “I am never too busy for a friend,” he replies with a smile. Before he knows it she reaches over, embraces him, and again thanks him.

  Following their brief exchange Val settles back into his chair and powers up his laptop. Before going to his work files he browses a few blogs of interest, some political but mostly technological. He then goes to his favorite site for news. Very concerned with what goes on beyond the borders of the United States he peruses the world news segment. Then one article, nine lines long and eighty-one words in depth, leaves him stunned emitting no visible or audible motion for what seems like minutes. The headline taunts, ‘Mother and Child Struck Down on Sydney Street’.

  Eighteen city blocks from there, on the twenty-seventh floor, ninety seconds after his secretary buzzed, Alex answers line nine. An exchange of thirty-six words later he grows woozy and his heart feels as if it stopped beating for what seems like a thousand minutes.

  After the words there has been an accident was spoken by Joanna’s secretary everything becomes a blur and Alex falls back into his chair. As his breathing and heart rate normalizes he asks, “Is she ok?”

  “She is stable. That is all the doctor would tell us. I went by to see her but she wasn’t awake at the time. I will be stopping by again later.”

  “And the baby how is the baby?” He asks frantically.

  There is no answer; instead the sound of whimpering grows on the other end of the line.

  “What about my baby?” he demands, “Tell me that she is unharmed!”

  “Alex, Valde is on line seven”, Mary, his secretary interjects.

  “Hold on a moment, please don’t hang up,” he pleas.

  “Tell him I will call him back,” stifling his emotions he says, “Right now is not a good time.”

  “He insists that it’s an emergency,” Mary shoots back.

  He switches line, “Hey Valde this is not a good...”

  Words and emotions gush out as Valde interrupts, “Hey Alex, I am so sorry to have read what happened. I don’t know what to say to you and Joanna during your time of loss. I just feel so sorry that it happened. It is a sorrowful event when parents must bury a child.”

  There it i
s. Valde, the least anticipated of messengers if one can truly expect this sort of news, heralds the dreaded confirmation.

  Valde continues, “How is Joanna, have you spoken with her? The news wasn’t very forthcoming on her injuries?”

  Alex doesn’t answer; this is because he stopped listening to Valde a few sentences ago. For him time has stopped and the world racing around him is again a blur. The phone falls to the floor.

  Coincidentally into his office comes his secretary, Emily, who upon seeing the phone dangling on the floor and her boss staring blankly at the wall with tears forming in his eyes asks, “Sir are you OK?”

  She receives no response from Alex as she rushes over, hangs up the phone, and asks, “Is there anything I can do, would you like some water. Here is some tissue.” Still no response from Alex, at this point not knowing what the matter is, she grows frantic and asks, “Should I get Brittany on the phone?”

  “No Emily, thank you but that won’t be necessary,” he finally responds, “Instead do you mind booking me the next flight to Sydney. I am afraid something very horrible has happened.”

  “Is there anything else I can get you sir?”

  “Oh yes do you mind calling Joanna’s office for me, I am afraid that we got disconnected. What am I saying, sorry I am a bit ruffled, actually I dropped her call after taking Valde’s.”

  “Yes sir, certainly I will there is no need to apologize.”

  “Emily.”

  “Yes sir?”

  “Thank you,” he says as he turns his chair around to stare listlessly at the New York City skyline from his window. So lost is he in his thoughts that he fails to notice the pigeons on his window sill. Not having had to deal with such a loss before, his heart wrung and his stomach turned inside out, he grows pale from the shock. If one listens closely, he can be heard repeating nonstop under his breath, “I have to be strong”.

  Chapter 22

  The wind bearing news of Calista’s death blows as cold as its message is dark and leaves everyone who feels its abysmal chill feeling quite solemn. The same wind seems to have formed an air pocket by Brittany’s side. Having tortured herself for days about her preset decision, she is now no longer resolute on having the abortion. This burden she chose to carry herself for she already knew the advice she would receive from those who made up her support system. They all would tell her the same thing, “We will support you in whatever decision you make.” Hence it would be senseless to seek their counsel. She has long believed that it’s the woman’s right to choose, yet a part of her is wishing she didn’t have to. Mental wrangling is heavily contributing to her fatigue and in some instance causing her to wish her right to choose didn’t exist.

  “How did this happen?” she has asked herself aloud more than a dozen times while recalling her and Phillip’s intimate moments. Well she knew how, but she thought that they were always careful. Condoms break, but she couldn’t remember any breaking. Not that she had any post-coital condom quality check in place, now that she thinks about it, maybe she should have. She had never felt the need to be on the pill and the morning after pill was certainly no option for her now, yes it is a little too late for that.

  With much debate underway arguing at what point life begins in the media, she too carries out her own mental match, shooting arguments for and against the opposition. When she catches herself passionately rebutting herself out loud she realizes that she might be over-analyzing this issue. Still she can’t help it. What if life, human life, indeed begins at conception, wouldn’t destroying this baby deem her a murderer. How would she live with herself? She has never been deeply religious and she is barely spiritual however here too she can’t help but wonder if having an abortion is the right thing to do.

  “What is wrong with me?” She asks herself, “Why am I so emotional about this? Is it the hormones? Could my quandary be more hormonal than it is ethical? It is my body; I don’t want to be pregnant, not any more. I don’t care if I am being selfish, I don’t want to gain twenty pounds, I don’t want to be troubled with daycare, diapers, what to name him or her, which school private or public, I don’t want to be a single mom. This is not how I planned my life. It is my life. It is my life, yes it is my life. It’s my life goddamn it and I am going to do with it what’s good for me. I don’t care if I am being selfish.”

  Her renewed gusto succumbs only to the inescapable gravity brought on by her thought of Calista. There it is the guilt of planning to abort a possible life while knowing that the niece she didn’t get the chance to know was just robbed of hers. How is she any different from that irresponsible driver who struck poor Joanna and Calista down? Shouldn’t she have been more cautious and not have gotten pregnant? Why should this innocent child within her pay the price for her carelessness?

  Her eyes well up, tissue ready in hand, she sniffles on cue. Lips firmly pressed she buffers and stifles the sobbing. How can she remove this life within her, rob it of its chance to be born. She thinks of the pain Joanna and Alex must be feeling at this time. She again sinks into berating herself for being selfish and wonders what can she do to ease her brother’s pain?

  Before becoming aware of her niece’s death, she silently deliberated if she should inform Alex of her condition. As brothers and sisters go there were few that have been closer than these two, however over the years she has kept many secrets from him. Rightfully so, why should he be privy to everything that she does? A few of these things would have left him pink with embarrassment or red in the face steaming mad. In the pursuit of her having fun, there was no need for her brother’s unwarranted opinion on what he thinks would be best for her. Now, she feels the need of his brotherly protection. Whereas Valde will support her she didn’t always trust his advice. In matters of extreme importance Alex’ unwavering levelheaded point of view often aided her in seeing the bigger picture. Right now, in this moment, she feels the need to see beyond herself.

  She decides it’s too late in the day to still be in bed, so she forces herself through rumpled sheets and slides her feet into her bed slippers. She dramatically makes her way past the numerous cheese wrappings lying on the floor to her window, gazes at her stomach, and then pulls away the blinds. She picks up her phone, which was lying on the window sill from the night before. With shaky fingers she dials a number.

  “Hello, hi this is Brittany Denton,” she says, “I am calling to cancel, oh I am sorry, I meant confirm my appointment with Dr. Ross at nine in the morning.”

  She waits for a response then says, “Thank you.”

  Next she calls Valde, “Hey baby tomorrow is the day. Are you still available to go with me?”

  “It will be a cold day in Hell when I can’t be there for you.”

  “Thanks Val, I want you to know that this means a lot to me.” Her sniffles return.

  “Brittany, are you certain that you are ready to do this?”

  “By certain do you mean am I sure I am doing the right thing.”

  He replies softly, “Yes.”

  “Honestly Val, I don’t know. I really don’t.” she pauses then continues, “I feel both torn and lost over the subject so I guess I should just go ahead and have this done, then there will be nothing to deliberate about.”

  He takes a deep breath then sighs loudly, “Honestly babe, I don’t know what advice to give you. I have never personally been in the situation myself, and I just don’t think there is anything I could tell you to truly ease your burden right now.”

  “It’s Ok Val; I don’t expect you to always have the answers.”

  “I know I just wish I could do more.” Frustration from the inability to be more of a help to her tugs on his voice, “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

  They finalize their plan to meet the next morning. Stripped, Brittany rolls back into bed in the fetal position holding her naked belly. She spends the rest of the day alone in this manner crying.

  Chapter 23

  The moment Valde completes his call with Brittany his phone rings
again, “Hey Brit what did we forget?”

  “Hey same family, different member, it’s me Alex.”

  Valde hears his friend but needs a moment to process. The person on the line might be Alex but the voice is different. The sadness, the grief, the eeriness, all embodied in Alex’s tone is so palpable that a suffocating gloom fills Val’s office

  “Alex, is everything OK?” Valde responds, still shocked at the call, “How are you holding up?”

  “Under the circumstances I am doing well I think. I haven’t jumped out the window yet, been contemplating it, as we speak I am intently looking down at the street.”

  “Don't say stuff like that. Look, I know it’s a time of mourning for you but how about we do something to I don’t know make you feel better, although I can’t imagine what could?”

  “You know if you look down long enough the ground doesn’t seem so far away and if you just stretch your hands down like I am doing right now, you can touch the top of people’s heads. I am serious, no kidding.”

  “Umm, Alex, I think you should, you know, step away from the window. Close them, pull the shades, sit back in your couch so that we can talk about how we can take your mind off all the horrible things that just happened. Or alright, don’t listen to me but whatever you do take yourself in from the window, I know that you won’t survive a fall from your window.”

  “Honestly, I don’t feel like being cheered up. I just want to sit here and ponder why life is such a scary place. Why does the universe throw me such shitty luck? Why did my little girl have to die?”

  Just minutes ago Valde was feeling helpless and speechless with the other Denton in his life, now it’s the same with her brother. Seems to be a running theme with these two, but in good and in bad he has to be there for them. Gnawing away at Valde is the simple fact that not knowing how to help them, or what words to say has him feeling like an inadequate fool. Here is one of those icky moments when he the consummate problem solver has no solution for the situation. With no suitable quick witted anecdote to quip or any soothing words soft enough to consolingly cut through his friend’s sorrow Valde does the only thing that he can at this moment. He listens.