I See You

by Patricia MacDonald

  As she had promised Adam, Hannah packed up several suitcases and put them back into the attic with the pull-down steps above the third-floor hallway. Packing up the bags left their closets looking forlorn, but it appeased Adam, who was still warning her that they might have to leave at any moment. Hannah knew he was right to be concerned but she could see that he also was beginning to relax, as the days passed, and there was no sign of Lisa, no word from her or from the police. Even Adam was starting to believe that they might have dodged a bullet. They might still be safe.

  To Sydney’s dismay, Mamie had not yet returned home. Her stroke left her paralyzed on the right side, and Isaiah had her placed in a rehab center outside the city in Blue Bell where she was guaranteed good care, and an intensive physical therapy routine. One Saturday morning, as Hannah and Sydney were venturing down the stairs to go out for a walk, they heard a key turning in the lock of the front door. Hannah froze on the staircase, and then slumped against the wall in relief as she saw Isaiah come in.

  He looked up and greeted the startled-looking Hannah and Sydney, who was holding her hand.

  ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ he observed.

  ‘No,’ said Hannah. ‘You just surprised me … coming in like that.’

  Isaiah raised a paper shopping bag in his hand. ‘I came here to go through my mother’s mail.’

  ‘How is she doing? How long till she is ready to come home?’ Hannah asked.

  Isaiah began to sort through Mamie’s mail on the hall table. ‘Come home?’ he murmured, frowning at the pile of circulars which had accumulated. ‘Never, if I have anything to say about it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘Well, I’m hoping to get her into assisted living once they spring her from the rehab. There’s a perfectly nice place in Overbrook, ten minutes from where my wife and I live. There, she’d have her own apartment, everything brand new and medical staff right on the premises.’

  ‘My mother’s in a place like that,’ Hannah admitted, and then wished she hadn’t even brought it up. Luckily the councilman was preoccupied with his own concerns, and didn’t seem to notice.

  ‘This situation just isn’t working anymore,’ he said, waving a fistful of envelopes at the house around them.

  ‘She does love this house,’ said Hannah.

  Councilman Revere shook his head. ‘I grew up in this house. But I certainly don’t want to spend time here anymore. I can’t get my kids to come here for any reason. It’s falling down around my mother’s ears. She can’t keep up with it. No. I’m looking at this as an opportunity. She’ll have no choice about it.’

  ‘Does that mean … What does that mean about the house? Are you going to sell it?’

  ‘I’d be happy to unload it tomorrow but I’m trying to at least pay lip service to my mother’s wishes. What? Are you worried about your apartment?’ he asked.

  Hannah shook her head. ‘Well, we’re … comfortable here. But we can get another apartment if we have to. We’d miss Mamie, though.’

  ‘Did Miss Mamie get my picture?’ Sydney asked the tall, well-dressed man in the hallway.

  ‘She certainly did,’ said Isaiah. ‘And she wanted me to thank you. She pinned it up on the bulletin board in her room. Well, I’ve got to run …’

  ‘Councilman, before you go, were you able to help Dominga with her situation? I haven’t seen her around lately,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Dominga?’ said Isaiah. ‘Who’s Dominga?’

  Hannah felt offended that he did not recognize the name of the woman who had rescued his mother. ‘Dominga Flores. The young woman, the army vet, who broke in here, the night Mamie took sick. The one who heard Cindy crying.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ said Isaiah impatiently. ‘I told her to call my office. I don’t know if she followed up on that. I have a lot of constituents, and I’m short staffed as it is.’

  Hannah shook her head. Adam was right. Isaiah had used Dominga to create a special moment for himself in front of the TV cameras. But once that was over, he clearly hadn’t given another thought to Dominga and her problems. She made a mental note to ask Frank Petrusa about her when she got back to Restoration House. Someone should demonstrate their gratitude, she thought.

  Hannah and Adam finally went back to work and took Sydney back to her daycare. At Restoration House everyone was solicitous about her health, and Hannah had to make up tales about her illness. She was glad when people stopped asking her if she felt all right and began to treat her normally again. When Frank Petrusa stopped to ask after her health, she managed to change the subject by asking him about Dominga. He said that Dominga had not been in to the group in quite a while, but that Father Luke might know where she was.

  One late afternoon, a week after her return, she tapped on the door of Father Luke’s office. He invited her in with his usual pleasant smile. He was a man who never seemed pressed for time. ‘How can I help you?’ he said.

  ‘Father Luke, I know you can’t keep track of everybody,’ she said, ‘but I was just wondering …’

  Father Luke pointed to a chair in front of his desk and Hannah sat down. ‘About what?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, there’s this vet named Dominga Flores who really saved the day, when Cindy’s babysitter had that stroke.’

  ‘Oh, sure. I saw it on the news.’

  Hannah felt sick to her stomach, as she always did when anyone mentioned seeing film of that event. It must have shown on her face.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked the priest.

  Hannah shook her head. ‘I just haven’t seen Dominga around since that night. I wondered if she got any help. Councilman Revere said he would help her but he didn’t really do anything in the end.’

  ‘I guess once he got his soundbite he forgot about her,’ said Father Luke. ‘Politicians.’ He sighed and then looked up at Hannah. ‘I’m sorry, Anna. I’m afraid I haven’t seen Dominga around here in a while. Why are you looking for her?’

  ‘Well, I’d like to help her if I could. Obviously, she’s got a problem with alcohol, and homelessness. The works. I know all the programs available. I thought if I just could talk to her …’

  ‘Let me make a few calls,’ said Father Luke. ‘I’ll let you know if I locate her.’

  The next day dawned fair and breezy, a lovely November day. Hannah walked Sydney to her daycare, and then went over to Restoration House. It was so lovely that she hated to go inside. She came in and hung up her jacket. As she did, she saw Father Luke beckoning to her. She went down to his office. ‘What’s up?’ she asked.

  ‘I located her. Dominga Flores.’

  ‘Oh, great. Where is she?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘Apparently, she checked into a rehab downtown.’

  ‘That’s a start,’ said Hannah. ‘Maybe she can get her life together.’

  ‘I was talking with one of the counselors there. She’s about to be sprung, and she has nowhere to go. No plans. I told them she could come here temporarily.’

  Hannah sighed. ‘I wish I could help her. I feel like I owe her.’

  ‘Well, you may get your wish. I told her counselor that I’d send you down there with the paperwork for her to stay temporarily at Restoration House. You can go over her options with her. Encourage her to participate in Frank’s groups. I think she needs that kind of group support.’

  Hannah looked up at him, beaming. ‘Really? I’d be glad to. That would be great. But what about work?’

  ‘That is our work,’ Father Luke said gently. ‘Nothing here that can’t wait. If this girl leaves rehab and ends up on the street, she’s gonna crawl back into the bottle before you know it. I’m sure it would do her good to know that you cared enough about her to go out of your way. She seems to be alone in the world.’

  ‘I’d really like to go and talk to her. Thanks, Father Luke.’

  The priest waved her off, and Hannah picked up her bag and her jacket and let herself out of Restoration House. She thought about how to get t
o the Center City Rehab. She could take the bus. That way at least she could still see the lovely day from her seat. If she got a seat. SEPTA service was not completely reliable out in their neighborhood.

  Finally, she decided on the quickest method – the subway. To Hannah, it was the most distasteful. The stations often smelled of urine, and the walls were covered with graffiti. More often than not, there were bums reeking of alcohol on the platforms, and the high-school students, who rode for free, were often rowdy. Still, it was the quickest way to go, and it would give her the most time downtown. Her mind made up, Hannah walked toward the subway station, stopping long enough to buy a paper from a newsstand on the street. If she had something to read she was less likely to be harassed, either by obstreperous kids or by drunken panhandlers. The station was still busy but the school rush was over, so that made it a bit quieter. People were coming and going up and down the steps to the subway station. Hannah joined the throng, and descended into the underground.

  She had a multiple-use ticket, which she used to get through the turnstile. Once inside, she held her breath against the heavy, malodorous air, and made her way through the cluster of people nearest the entrance. The far end of the platform was usually the most sparsely populated. She avoided going all the way there. It was never a good idea to be too isolated. But she separated herself from the other riders and began to look down at her folded-up paper, avoiding the gaze of the other people waiting on the platform, while she kept one hand firmly clutched on her pocketbook.

  She was bemused by her own precautions. A girl who grew up in semi-rural Franklin County, and thought that Nashville, Tennessee, was a giant metropolis, she had had a crash course in street smarts during this last year in Philadelphia. She had learned not to smile and say hello. She knew to avert her eyes. To keep her wits about her, to hang on like grim death to any and all bags she had with her. Unless of course, someone brandished a weapon. Then, she knew you had to let go without an argument. Your bag wasn’t worth your life.

  She kept her eyes lowered, ostensibly on her paper, but her gaze was distracted by movement on the tracks below. She squinted at the moving shape against the dark tracks, and realized, with a sickening thud in her stomach, that she was looking at a rat about the size of a cat, scuttling across the gravel in between the rails until he got to the metal handrails of the emergency ladder at the far end of the platform.

  Hannah was repulsed by the sight. Was he coming up those rungs to the platform? Were rats able to climb a ladder? She would not put anything past those vermin who were so adaptive to the city life. Hannah was the farthest person from the entrance, and closest to the end of the platform. Suddenly, she no longer wanted to be that far from her fellow subway riders. If the rat came up that ladder and onto the platform, she did not want to be the first human he encountered. She edged her way closer to the others. At least it was not an especially unruly lot. On the contrary, there were several tired-looking women who were probably heading to work. A few noisy girls in Catholic-school uniforms were teasing one another and laughing at their own insults. A guy with a bushy beard in a black shirt with a large green, gold and red Frisbee-shaped tam covering his dreadlocks was rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. Stoned, she thought. One guy in a hoody and shades was slumped to the ground against the tiles of the wall, his chin against his chest, his hands in the pockets. The usual suspects, she thought.

  From the distance she heard the train’s whistle and saw the light coming closer as it approached the station. Good, she thought. Time to go. She thought about Dominga and what she was going to say to her. She had to reassure the lonely veteran that there was help, and a life worth living out there.

  The roaring, shrieking train came barreling towards them. Hannah tucked her paper under her arm and renewed her grip on her bag. Along with her fellow passengers, she stepped closer to the platform edge, trying to judge where the doors would open. Suddenly, even over the deafening noise of the approaching train, she heard human voices yelping.

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘No!’

  She started to turn to look, and then she felt it. Something powerful at her back shoved her forward and she stumbled, losing her footing. All she could see was the yellow light looming. Otherwise, despite the cacophony of the speeding train on the tracks, everything was silent. The only sound she heard, as her feet left the platform and she sailed out and over the tracks, was the frantic thudding of her heart.

  She landed on all fours, on the jagged little stones between the rails. For a moment she was too stunned to move. She scrambled up to her feet but she couldn’t breathe. The train, its yellow light blinding, was bearing down on her.

  I’m going to die, she thought. She could hear sounds again. The roar of the train, and people screaming on the platform. Hannah stood, frozen, staring at the oncoming train. A heavyset black woman, holding a shopping bag, leaned out over the edge of the platform. She extended her hand to Hannah and shook it, as if to say, take it. Take my hand. I’ll pull you up. Hannah reached up frantically but she was not even close to touching the woman’s hand. Hannah saw the blur of people on the platform. Some were shouting for help, and trying to wave down the engineer, to get him to brake. One schoolgirl was sobbing.

  A portly black man in a SEPTA uniform shook his head and roughly pulled the woman with the shopping bag back and away from the edge of the platform.

  He’s gonna let me die, Hannah thought.

  Then the man looked Hannah in the eyes. Through the deafening cacophony he was speaking to her. What was he saying? It was impossible to hear his words above the din. He pointed toward the ladder at the far end of the platform. Hannah stared at him, her eyes wide with terror.

  ‘Run,’ he said.

  Somehow, despite the terror, the noise and her own confusion, she heard it. Run? she thought. She must have mouthed the question. The SEPTA conductor held her gaze calmly, and nodded emphatically, pointing again, toward the end of the platform. Run? Outrun the train? That was ridiculous. Impossible.

  For a second she could not move. Would not. And then, in a flash, she understood. He was telling her that this was her only chance. And he would know. There was no other chance. Somehow, it registered. She started to move. To do what he said. To run. She started slowly, and then she was running. She ran for her life, stumbling over the stones between the ties, weeping. It felt as if the whole world was shuddering with the approaching train. She thought of Adam, and Sydney. Briefly, she thought of Lisa and her heart ached for all the loss. She remembered the rat, and then, she remembered the ladder.

  The train was roaring into the station, the brakes screaming. Hannah was at the ladder, grabbing the rail, pulling herself up. The train struck her.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  She woke up in a dimly lit room, her head pounding. She reached up and gingerly touched her head, which was swathed in bandages. Then she tried to sit up and felt pain burst like fireworks all through her body. She was wearing a thin hospital gown, and there were bandages wrapped around her torso. Her other arm was in a cast. There was a searing pain in her leg that seemed to radiate upwards, through her body and out the top of her head.

  For a second she could not remember how she got here or how she became so badly injured. Then, suddenly, it came back to her. The shrieking whistle, the yellow orb of light hurtling toward her in the dark tunnel. The shove from behind. Hannah felt tears start to trickle down her face and she gasped for breath.

  Alive, she thought. I’m alive. Thank you, God. Thank you.

  Her very next thought was of Adam. Did he know she was alive? Did he know she was even here?

  Before the thought had actually formed clearly in her mind, the door to the room opened, and he walked in, the man she had been married to for over half her lifetime. His shoulders were rounded, his back bent, as if he were carrying a bundle of bricks on his broad back. His eyes were downcast.

  ‘Hey,’ she whispered.

  He froze and looked up. His ga
ze met hers. It was like watching daybreak in a time-lapse photo. His frown cleared, his eyes widened, and a smile, at first tentative, and then joyous broke across his face. ‘Babe!’ he cried.

  Hannah tried to nod. Her lips were dry as parchment. He rushed to her bedside and tried to grab her up in a hug.

  ‘No,’ she laughed. ‘Don’t. That hurts.’

  Reluctantly he loosened his grip. He was shaking. Gently, she ran her good hand over his bent head. After a minute he raised his head and looked into her eyes. Their gaze was long and silent. I thought I lost you, each one said, without words. I was so afraid.

  Hannah closed her eyes. All that she felt for him was almost too painful to endure. She felt his gentle healing kiss on her face. Then, suddenly, he moved away from her. She opened her eyes to see where he went. He pulled a chair close to her bed, and they gripped hands.

  Adam shook his head. ‘When they called and said that you’d been hit by a subway train …’

  Hannah sighed. ‘I know. I thought I was dead,’ she said. ‘I should be dead.’

  Adam frowned. ‘A lot of people saw it happen. Apparently, someone pushed you onto the tracks.’

  ‘Yes. Did they catch the guy who did it?’ she asked.

  Adam shook his head. ‘Not yet. No one seemed to get a good look.’

  ‘I really can’t remember it happening. I just remember landing on the tracks, completely stunned. The train was coming.’

  Adam grimaced. ‘How did you …?’

  ‘There was a guy from SEPTA on the platform. Everyone else was screaming. Shrieking. The train was roaring in. The noise was deafening. But this guy … he just looked me in the eye and told me to run. And somehow, it registered. Somehow I heard him.’

  ‘Run?’ Adam cried. ‘How can you outrun a train?’

  Hannah lifted her broken arm with a wry smile. ‘You can’t.’