Through the Windshield Glass

by Kristen Day

  The same woman I had seen at lunch earlier was doling out the food. When she saw me she almost smiled, "You look a mite bit better than this afternoon," she said.

  I smiled tightly, helped Maria grab a tray and choose orange juice, and thanked the woman for the food before hurrying away to find a place to sit. I knew it was rude not to respond, but I was afraid a fountain of drool would have spilled from my mouth had I tried to open it.

  At first I shoveled my food, Maria had released my hand when we sat down and I was using my newly freed left hand to chase down sticky bits of waffle with sips of milk. I had plowed through about half of my dinner before I realized Maria hadn't eaten a single bite. She was looking at the fork and knife as if they were foreign objects, then I realized they probably were to her. I had been stupid to assume if she couldn't figure out how to wash her own hair that she would be able to work a knife and fork without help.

  I immediately felt guilty for every bite I had consumed while Maria was sitting there staring hopelessly at her full plate.

  "I'm sorry," I muttered.

  I cut all of Maria's food into small pieces, even the bacon and sausage. Carefully, I showed Maria how to hold the fork, load it, and finally bring it to her mouth. She tried to hold the fork like I showed her, but her fingers were too awkward. Instead, she had to settle for fisting the handle like a toddler just learning how to eat without their fingers. At first, the food didn't make it off the plate, the next few came close to her mouth before either falling onto her dress or the floor, then finally, a tiny piece of syrup soaked waffle made it all the way from Maria's plate to her mouth.

  She was visibly surprised and chewed emphatically before swallowing. I was glad she at least knew how to do that; I wasn't sure how I could have taught her how to eat.

  I continued to slowly eat my food while keeping a close eye on Maria in case she needed more help, but now that she was on the right track she was improving faster than ever. Her hold on the fork was still awkward, a few stray fork loads still ended up down her front, but most of the food she was able to consume and she seemed to relish each and every bite.

  By the time Maria finished eating her hair was completely dry and her curls bounced every time she chewed. It would have been funny had I not been so sorry to see her in such a broken state. Part of me wanted to shake her, tell her to wake up, maybe even slap her and tell her to stop pretending. But the bigger, stronger, more caring part of me wanted just to hold her, braid her hair, paint her nails and make her look just like the old Maria. She already had so much working against her here; she didn't need anymore help showing people she was different.

  Maria stood up before I realized she was done and I scrambled up after her. We put our trays in a receptacle by the door and were about to leave when a shrill cry stopped me. I had taken Maria's hand again when we left the table so she couldn't get lost. She felt me stop and turned to look for the source of the noise with me.

  "Maria!" the voice was desperate, full of emotion, and definitely female, definitely Mrs. Cole's.

  "Why are you touching her?" Mrs. Cole demanded of me, "That's my daughter, you get your hands off of her!"

  "You told me you didn't have a daughter," I responded without so much as a trace of guilt for my harsh words.

  "I was lying, of course I was lying, Alice, this is my daughter, my Maria. Why is she here? Why is she dead?"

  "You told her to come here. She said you came to her and told her someone needed her help. So she killed herself, Mrs. Cole, she killed herself just like you. How could you do that to your husband?"

  I put every ounce of bitterness and anger that had built up in me since my death behind those words. I watched Mrs. Cole go from frantic mom, to a murderous mother bear.

  "You are lying! I would never tell my daughter to come to this place! Never! If I had known what was waiting for me here I wouldn't have come myself! No one will tell me how to leave, I wouldn't do that to my own child!"

  I didn't believe her I couldn't believe her. Mrs. Cole's words fell uselessly to the floor, shattering into a million pieces on my distrust of her.

  "I don't know you anymore, and you don't know me. My name is Ira, I don't know your name, and I don't know your 'child's' name. I was just helping her throw away her food. I think it's best that you find Kinga if you have a problem with that."

  The kitchen had gone silent, everyone was staring the three of us. The two angry women at each other's throats, and the poor quiet girl who didn't seem to have a clue that all of the commotion was about her. I looked behind me at Maria; she was looking at her mother with absolutely no recognition in her eyes, just a blind stare. Then Maria smiled to herself, straightened her dress with her free hand, and began to swirl the skirt around her legs like a child.

  Mrs. Cole broke down in front of me, following the fate of her words.

  "She doesn't know who I am does she?" Mrs. Cole whispered. Her eyes searched for the truth in mine, attempting to look into my soul, they begged for me to tell her that Maria was only pretending, that it was all a cruel joke, but I wouldn't.

  "Maria remembers nothing," I whispered so only Mrs. Cole could here, "maybe it's best that she doesn't for now. It will save her from ending up like you."

  Mrs. Cole's knees buckled and she fell to the floor in front of me, she reached for Maria's free hand, but the moment her mother touched her skin, Maria screamed. She screamed louder than she had when the water got too high, and she screamed as though her very life depended on it.

  Maria clung to me, squeezing me with both arms and hiding her head in my shirt. She began to sob again, there was only one thing I could think of to do.

  "I'm sorry, ma’am, but we have to go before we raise more of a scene.”

  I pulled Maria through the door and back into my room. Even with the door shut I could still here the anguished cries of Wendy Cole.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Maria was curled up on my bed, covering her ears with her hands and sobbing harder than ever.

  "I need a shower," I told my room. The sounds of Mrs. Cole's tears vanished as the destination behind the door changed. If anything though, Maria's tears were more desperate, she wasn't mourning, she wasn't sad, she was frustrated. She was yanking at her hair, screaming to herself and looked as if she were having a seizure.

  I ran to the bed and hugged Maria tightly against me, I rocked and shushed her until the crying stopped. She laid there on my lap, completely exhausted, tears continued to course down her cheeks and onto my jeans as Maria stared up at the ceiling. The lighting looked to have gone back to telling time again because my room was gradually darkening. I judged it to be eight o'clock in the evening before there was a knock at my door.

  I was perplexed, I didn't know someone could get to my room when it was pointed at a bathroom, but nothing made sense anymore, so instead of puzzling over the conundrum I called, "It's open," and tried to calm down Maria whom I had frightened with my sudden noise making.

  Leigh burst into the room, smile wide, blonde hair flowing, and giant blue eyes adjusting to the dim light. Michael followed her, but he didn't look nearly as happy. He looked tired and like this was an obligation he had to fill in order to go back to bed.

  "I'm not here to ask you to be bait again," Michael said the moment we made eye contact. He raised his arms in a surrender, "Leigh just wanted to see you."

  "Will you come to the meeting with me?" Leigh asked excitedly. She jumped on my bed next to me, startling Maria anew and making me wonder once again where she got the energy to act the way she did.

  "What meeting?"

  "The one that Michael's in charge of! They're so much fun and you get to learn lots of new things that no one else will tell you!"

  "Did you put her up to this?" I asked Michael fiercely, "Because if you did that's low. I can't believe you'd use a little girl to do your dirty work!"

  Michael shook his head, "I had no idea what she wanted to come here for, she just said she wanted to
talk to you and make sure you were doing all right. I'm just the chaperone."

  "Ha!" was the only decent response I could muster.

  "Who's she?" Leigh asked. Her eyes were fixated on Maria, "She's so pretty, and her hair looks like Cassidy's. I like Cassidy, she's really nice to me; she told me I reminded her of her daughter."

  "This is Maria," I told Leigh, "we were best friends for our entire lives, we even died on the same day."

  "Were you killed?" Leigh asked. Her eyes were wide with curiosity.

  "I was, but Maria--" I didn't know how to phrase how Maria had died. I didn't want Leigh thinking anything less of this person she had just met. It was a silly fear, I knew Leigh wouldn't judge her, but I couldn't bring myself to describe Maria's death the way it had happened, "someone asked her to come here, so she did."

  Leigh's jaw dropped, "Who told her?" she whispered.

  "Her mother."

  Leigh's hands flew to her mouth, "That's like what happened to me!"

  My eyes flicked to Michael, he looked just as surprised at the revelation as me.

  "What happened to you Leigh?" Michael asked. It was obvious this was something he’d been waiting a long time to hear. He sat down in the chair next to the bed, looking up at the three of us girls.

  Leigh sat up a little straighter on the bed; she looked around imperiously before launching into her story, "When I was eight my mommy got really sick. She said something was happening inside her that hurt her lots, but she didn't know what it was. The doctors told her it was a new baby, just like I had been, except this time it was a boy! But my brother was hurting my mommy so the doctors had to take him away so that she wouldn't die. Mommy was really sad for a long time, she wouldn't hold me on her lap anymore, and it made me sad too. Daddy didn't know what to do, so he went to go look for the baby they had taken away from mommy so that she would be happy again. But he got lost and never came back."

  Even Maria was being silent and giving rapt attention to the little girl who spoke with such love for the man who had left his daughter and wife. She knew too much for someone so young.

  "Then I turned eight and my mom got happy again for a few days. She got me a new dress and we were going to go on a trip, but one night when I was asleep someone came and took mommy away. Most of her was still there, but she wouldn't open her eyes and look at me anymore. It was okay though, nice people came and took me somewhere else to live. They put my mom in a house underground so that she wouldn't scare anyone when she came back."

  The innocence of Leigh's description was astounding, the people around her had been too kind to tell a little girl that her brother was dead, her father had left her, and her mother had died. It was cruel that they had let her believe that it was possible for all those people to come back, or was it? Leigh began speaking again.

  "A lot of people where I went were sad, just like they are here. Most of them had forgotten how to smile, just like Michael did, but he's starting to remember."

  Leigh smiled at Michael, in return she received a cheesy grin that made her giggle before continuing, "One night my mom came to visit me. She said someone where she was needed my help and I should come right away. I couldn't leave though, some of my friends were remembering their smiles, and I had to help them until they didn't need a reminder anymore. I told my mom I'd come as soon as I was done, but she said that wasn't good enough. She said if I didn't come with her right then she wouldn't love me anymore. That's when I knew it wasn't my mom; she told me she would always love me no matter what. I told her to leave, and she did, but she was really mad. I was okay though, I knew my real mom was still looking out for me."

  Tears poked at my eyes and I hastily blinked them away while resisting the urge to ask, "Then what happened?" Leigh continued without being prodded.

  "The next night when I was getting ready for bed, one of the older girls who'd been there a really long time started yelling at me. She told me I was a freak because I was so happy, but I didn't mind, she was just angry, so I hugged her and told her she could be happy with me if she wanted. I'd show her how. She didn't want to hug me at first, but soon she was crying really hard and was hugging me back. I thought she would get better without my help, but she needed love too much so she kept squeezing me harder and harder. Like this."

  Leigh wrapped her arms around me and squeezed with all her tiny might while making a really pained expression, "It hurt to breathe, but I kept hugging her because I knew she needed it. She was trying to squeeze love right out of me, I would've given it to her if she asked, but some people don't know how. So, I let her take it, and then I left, just like my mom did, but I blew the girl a kiss before I went through the door into the hallway full of doors. I hope she felt it, everyone can use a little extra love."

  As Leigh spoke so peacefully about her death I couldn't keep the tears back any longer.

  "Don't cry!" Leigh exclaimed. She hugged me again, "The doors were easy, I was done really fast, and then I came here and I thought it was wonderful, but Michael and his friends told me there was a way I could make it even better. So, I joined up with them, plus I like my real name much better than Aida, don't you like your name better?"

  "Of course I do! It's just--" I glanced at Michael, and looked away again.

  "Well then why don't you help us? You can keep your name and you can help your friend. Some of the people helping Michael think they know how to fix people like her."

  "There are more people like Maria here?" I asked. I looked over at my friend who was still fixated on Leigh as if she were the only real thing in the world.

  "There are only a few, but yes, the doors did really bad things to them, mine were bad too, but my mommy helped me lots and told me it would be okay as long as I kept smiling!"

  "You can help Maria?" I asked Michael.

  Michael nodded, "We think so."

  "I know they can, will you help us, Alice? Do it for your friend, I like her!"

  Instead of responding to the question immediately I asked Leigh a question, "How old are you?"

  "I think I'm nine. I was eight when I left like my mom, I spent a month in the hallway, and I've been here for seven months. So, yes, nine!" Leigh seemed very proud to have reached such an old age, "How old are you?" she asked.

  "I'm eighteen now," I replied. I couldn't believe how much stronger this little girl was than me, she had been through much worse and yet she was still smiling and trying to help everyone else out.

  "That's only a year younger than you, Michael! Kinga's two years older than him! Alice is much closer to your age, plus she's pretty and nice, you should marry her instead!"

  Michael and I both blushed red and couldn't look at each other, "That's an interesting thought, Leigh, but I don't think that will happen."

  Leigh frowned, the first time I had ever seen her do so, "Fine," then she turned to me, "so will you help us?"

  How could I say no to her?

  "Yes, I'll help, but I need to talk to Michael alone for a minute, okay?"

  Leigh hugged me again before bouncing off the bed, Michael stood to open the door for her, I caught a glimpse of grass and setting sun and was suddenly hungry for the outdoors. I would have to explore after I spoke with Michael.

  Just as Leigh was about to leave she thought better of it, she turned around and tugged on Michael's shirt until he bent down so she could whisper something in his ear. As she did so, Michael turned more and more red as Leigh cast furtive glances my way, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

  "Okay, we'll see what happens, I'll be out in a minute," Michael said when Leigh had finished.

  Leigh smiled appreciatively and left, Michael shut the door behind her, and shrugged his shoulders apologetically, "I'm sorry about her, every new girl that comes here she decides I should marry because she doesn't think I'll be happy with Kinga."

  "Will you?" I asked without thinking.

  "I don't think my future happiness is what you wanted to talk to me about," Michael said artfully avo
iding my question the same way he’d done earlier.

  "No," I replied, "I need to know, right now, did you ask Leigh to come here and convince me to help you?"

  "I already told you, I had no idea what her intentions were, she would have come here herself, but I didn't want her getting lost or hurt."

  "I don't want her hurt either, if you aren't certain what you're doing is going to help, then why do you let her believe that you're absolutely right and that you can do no wrong?"

  "I've explained to her everything in the same way I explain it to everyone, there are holes, there are flaws, and their are uncertainties, but she believes what she wants to believe. I can tell her about all the imperfections that I want, and she'll just gloss over them and point out how it could be an advantage or that I'm being unfair. It's impossible to win an argument with her." Michael smiled to himself and ran a hand through his hair. One curl stuck up at an odd angle and I had a sudden desire to put it back in place, instead I adjusted Maria's hair.

  As soon as Leigh had left, Maria became distant again, she just sat there staring at her hands while I considered what to say next.