“I’m sorry, H.”
“It’s okay. What about you?”
“Penny never left us alone. Drove us crazy. She was always afraid something was going to happen.”
“I meant what is your passion?”
“Besides you?”
“Yeah.”
“I want to stay healthy and live long enough to travel with you. To see the kids grown up.”
“What about personally?”
“I haven’t thought about it.”
“There must be something. Where do you want to travel? Tahiti?”
“Alaska. I want to see the northern lights.”
“Not a cruise, I hope,” I said.
He smiled at me.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said.
He measured his hand against mine.
“I could still paint with only nine fingers,” I said. “There are people who paint with the brush between their teeth. Will you still want me? You always wrap your fingers in mine when we make love. Right at the end.”
He turned to me.
“I know,” I said. “I guess we’ll never go back there. I just hope we can find a way to be happy again. Some of the time at least.”
“We’re happy now,” he said. “We just need to get through this. I think you should go to sleep, you sound tired.”
He got up and collected dishes and wrappers and packed up.
“How were the babies after they saw me?”
“Megs wanted to know why you’re green and yellow. She told Chop you called her Angel. Chance really slept. I think he was relieved. I’ll bring them again tomorrow. We’re almost ready for you to come home.”
“Are the folks staying after I get home?”
“Man, I hope not. I appreciate their help, but I’m ready for them to leave. They probably feel the same way. My guess is they’ll stay a day or two until you’re settled in.”
“Make a graceful exit. Mom showed up this time. I guess that’s something.”
He kissed me good night.
“Patricia said there might be some nerve damage from the fractures,” I said.
“Maybe you won’t want me again,” he said.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
∞
The next morning Jimmy was quiet, his silhouette against sunrise.
“I watched the sunrise on tide pools through the cracked windshield. It was like a stained glass window,” I said. “The sun lit up the surface of each pool, like the sky had bored holes into the earth and filled each one with liquid sunrise. The moon did the same thing. Then the tide came in and washed it all away under blue water. I watched the sky and earth at the same time.”
“So you enjoyed the beauty,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes. Am I supposed to do anything?”
“No. I’m going to put the needles in, you’ll rest about half an hour, and then I’ll remove them. We’ll talk after that.”
He lowered the bed and folded back the blanket. He started with my feet and hands, and then down the center of my head. He tapped a few into my belly just below my navel. He tapped some into my shoulder.
“Ow,” I said. “That felt like a shock in my mangled finger.”
He nodded and tapped in a few more. It wasn’t what I expected from needles. A few sent tiny distress signals, the rest felt like distant tugs. He sat down and went quiet. I wondered what he was doing. If he meditated or what. My mind traveled around and checked in with all the needles. I drifted off.
The needles clicked in the Sharps disposal box as he retraced his steps to remove them. He ran his fingers down the midline of my scalp. The fuzz growing out bristled. His pen clicked.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Bald,” I said.
“Would you like me to get a cover for your head?”
“No. Thank you. It’s okay. That didn’t hurt.”
“It’s supposed to help, not hurt.”
His pen scratched notes.
“What did you discover?” I asked.
“You’re strong. You should feel better after that. We’ll do it again later today.”
“What were you doing while the needles were in?”
“A sudoku puzzle.”
“I thought maybe you were meditating or something.”
“I try not to make things too complicated.”
“I’m worried about my baby. He’s only ten weeks old. He stopped eating while I was missing, like he knew.”
“Energetically you’re still one for a while after a baby is born. It takes a while to separate.”
“He’s not acting separated yet.”
“He’s not. It takes time.”
“What happens when I go home? It doesn’t sound like I can get out for a while to see you.”
“I make house calls. I’ll be treating your finger too. They want that watched closely.”
“Nobody makes house calls. We live out past Waimea. I can barely get a plumber.”
“So do we. Jon bribed me.”
“You talked to Jon?”
“Jon talks to everyone.”
I smiled at the idea that Jon was out there doing his thing. Man was a force of nature.
“Jon is very smart and very stubborn,” I said. “If it’s any consolation, he did the same thing to me. I didn’t even know I was dating him; the next thing I knew I had two babies.”
He smiled.
“He scares my agent,” I said. “Will you be treating me under duress?”
“I’ll be treating you on the way home. Jon promised beer.”
“Hold out for pie. He has killer pie.”
∞
The hospital breakfast confirmed Jon’s diagnosis, bad food. I crept to the bathroom with the help of the nurse. I couldn’t even wipe myself without help. I was settled back in bed when Jane came in pulsing a serious vibe.
“The police will be here in a few minutes,” she said. ”I’d rather we had a chance to talk more, but they claim they’ve been put off long enough.”
“What do they want? I’m not clear about this.”
“At this point they just want to talk. The guys have changed their story since they got lawyers. Losing the baby changed things. They’re sticking together and saying they just passed you, that they weren’t harassing you.”
A couple of guys knocked and announced.
“Mrs. Moon?”
I don’t know what I expected, but they weren’t it. I’d never dealt with anything but actor cops. They didn’t look like they’d been cast to cover all the bases. They were skinny, medium height, 40-something white guys. Both had dark hair. One obviously did the driving, the left side of his face and his left arm were tan, and the other had the matching tan on his right side. The only things that distinguished one from the other, besides their before and after tans, were the crooked teeth in the right tan guy and different Hawaiian print shirts.
The driver was Detective Kawasaki; riding shotgun was Detective McClure. He might have a shotgun, but they didn’t inspire crime-fighting confidence.
“Call me Hannah. The only one who calls me Mrs. Moon is the high school helper at my daughter’s preschool.”
They wanted a recap of the evening. Jon and Fred came in right about the time I was describing my grandmother’s kitchen timer. They leaned against the wall and looked down at their feet. Jon glanced up with a worried look when I got to the disposable diapers and how I’d never used them before but thought maybe they’d be easier with two babies in diapers. Kawasaki and McClure weren’t taking notes. They looked like their eyeballs might dry out trying to look interested.
“I guess you don’t really need to know everything that was in my cart,” I said.
“It’s okay, Hannah,” said Jane. “Tell the story any way you want.”
I skipped ahead to the lights going out in the store and how Jon’s call attracted the attention of the guys drinking in their car. The detectives started jotting notes when the guys cruis
ed by in the parking lot. They wanted to know if they’d said anything. They asked how close they had gotten to my rear bumper when they followed me. Before I flipped up the mirror they were so close I couldn’t see their headlights. I hadn’t remembered that until they asked.
I described them holding out my phone while the scar face guy showed me his tongue. I started crying. Jane wanted to wrap it up, but they had a few more questions.
“No. It didn’t seem like they were trying to run me into the wall,” I said. “It was a blind curve, I moved over. I was afraid they’d get hit by someone coming the other direction.”
“You were worried about those guys?” asked Kawasaki.
“I would have hogged the center,” said McClure. “Let them go over the cliff.”
“But what about the person coming the other way?” I asked.
They didn’t think there was any way to press charges. Confessing to Victor’s cousins hadn’t cost them anything more than a few broken bones. Everyone knew they were guilty; they weren’t pressing charges against the cousins. They were undoubtedly back at the beach, hitting the Hurricane, and bullshitting their version of events.
“We’re sorry this happened, Mrs. Moon,” said Kawasaki. “If we can get these guys we will.”
“I didn’t have any business being out there,” I said.
“Going to Walmart for diapers isn’t being out there,” said McClure. “We’ll let you know if anything changes.
Jane and Fred followed them out. I looked at Jon.
“Was I wrong, Jon? Should I have forced them into the other lane?”
“I’m not the person to ask. They might have survived. I want them dead, off the planet, out of our world. That’s pretty much my only thought on the subject.”
“I’ve never heard you talk like that.”
“They almost killed you. We lost a baby. It was as much my fault as it was theirs.”
“You didn’t chase me down the road.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“I went on my own. You can’t take that on.”
“How did it go with Jimmy today?” he asked.
“It didn’t hurt, it tugged. He said Chance is fussy because he isn’t finished separating from me.”
Jon was looking out the window. His jaw was working.
“It’s going to be okay,” I said.
“It will be when you have your life back.”
“I don’t know what that means right now. This must be my life.”
“Your life isn’t broken in the hospital because some lowlife assholes drew a bead on you. It’s doing something you enjoy. Spending time with us.”
“Are you bringing the kids today?”
“I’ll bring them at lunch.”
“Did you threaten Jimmy?”
“Threaten? I offered him beer.”
“I love you, Jon. This isn’t your fault. You can’t take this on.”
“It makes no sense to me.”
“It must make sense in some place we don’t understand yet.”
“A parallel universe? That’s not this, H. You’re sitting here talking to me, the guy who made you unhappy enough to go to Walmart in the middle of the night. Then I called you, like shining a spotlight on you. You’d be better off with that guy in cowville.”
“No, I wouldn’t. I’m going to sleep before you bring the kids.”
He left and I tried to go to sleep. I called him.
“You make it home?” I asked.
He was quiet on the other end.
“I like to hear you breathe,” I said.
“We’re safe, H,” he said. “We’ll all be there in a little while.”
What was wrong with me? I’d survived four nights hanging over a cliff and I was right back to worrying that Jon wouldn’t make it home at high noon. I couldn’t imagine what life was going to be like when Meggie and Chance dated. I’d probably have to be institutionalized for the duration.
∞
Jane knocked and stuck her head in the door. She wanted to check in with me after the police visit. The conversation with the police hadn’t upset me. I was disconcerted that the guys were going to get away with it, but part of me was relieved.
“Jon still blames himself,” I said.
“Do you blame him?” she asked.
“I blame the guys who chased me.”
She was quiet.
“And I blame myself,” I said. “It was stupid to take off like that. I have responsibilities. I was acting like I did when I was twenty, leaving before I could be left.”
“Did you do that, leave before you could be left?”
“Yes. But I never left anything behind except a few confused men.”
“And this time you left your husband behind?”
“Jon wasn’t confused. I left my children behind. I was just like my mother.”
“Did your mother do that?”
“All the time. Or she didn’t show up in the first place.”
“Were you drunk?”
“Of course not.”
“So not just like your mother.”
“What difference does it make? I didn’t take care of them.”
“You weren’t drunk and you left your children safe with their father. The only one you didn’t take care of was yourself.”
“I’ve never told anyone this, but I left them behind last month, with strangers.”
I told her about leaving them without even knowing Bob and Sherry’s last name. She said it didn’t sound like I’d left them in a dangerous situation. I’d just spent the night in their home.
“There’s always some excuse,” I said. “The kids are still the collateral damage.”
“Were you the collateral damage when your father left.”
“He didn’t leave. He died in a plane crash.”
“Tell me about that.”
My parents were just sorting out his affair when he crashed. He was away at a medical conference, short hop. Mom suspected he’d taken the other woman and insisted he come home. He would have waited for daylight, but he wanted to reassure her, so he tried. He died alone, trying.
“I don’t think flying because she needed reassuring was an excuse,” I said. “He used bad judgment. Classic bad judgment. Pilots call it get home. They fly when they shouldn’t because they’re so close, or there’s an insecure wife, or some other meaningless bullshit at the other end that they risk their life for.”
“Was your mother insecure?”
“I don’t know. I was young. Her husband had just had an affair. So, yeah, she was probably feeling insecure.”
“Do you feel insecure about Jon?”
“He puts his first wife before me. It’s like an affair. He says it’s not. He might not be sleeping with her, but it feels the same.”
“How so?”
“Like he’s willing to lie to hide his relationship with her. He finally got around to calling her, after the accident.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Nothing can make me feel.”
“Okay. How do you feel about that?”
“Like I had to go over a cliff before he’d make the call.”
“Do you think he loves you?”
“I don’t know anymore. He says he does. He’s taking good care of me. Could just be guilt.”
“How do you feel about your marriage right now?”
“All I feel right now is trapped. I’m not used to being dependent on people like this. It freaks me out.”
“You can’t leave.”
“I can’t go the bathroom or even wipe myself without help.”
“One of the reasons people say they get married is that there will be someone there to help them when they’re trapped by life.”
“That’s not why I married Jon. I don’t want him wiping my ass. How is he supposed to forget that if we ever have a sex life again? How am I?”
“Why did you marry him?”
“A hundred reasons, none of them involved
my hygiene. He lets me be happy. He makes me laugh. I make him laugh. He scares my bitch aunt. That alone would be reason to marry him. It’s like we’re in a lifelong conversation. My brother says he’s a lot like my father.”
“Do you tell him those things?”
“Not really.”
“Is it okay that he’s like your father?”
“Sure. Who else am I supposed to marry? I do know that much.”
“Your father had an affair and disappeared when you were twelve. You never knew him as an adult woman.”
“My father was a good man, so is Jon.”
“We need to stop now,” she said. “You shouldn’t get overtired.”
“Jon wanted the baby,” I said.
“Did you?”
“Once he said it, I thought it would be okay. That we could work it out.”
“How do you feel about his decision to terminate?”
“I don’t know. He said it was necessary. I can’t imagine going through a pregnancy like this. A baby with problems would have been difficult, especially with Chance so close in age. Be hard to work. Losing my finger isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
“Don’t underestimate the impact of losing the baby or your finger. That’s why I was asking about blame.”
“Do you think there is someone to blame in all this?” I asked.
“Blame could come into play. It’s a destructive thing in a marriage.”
“My old therapist said that if I blamed my mother, she was in control of my life. Does that mean if I blame the guys who chased me, they’re in control of my life? I was relieved when I heard I wouldn’t have to go to court and drag it out with them. I never want to see them again. Jon wants to kill them, but he blames himself. How do you get around blame?”
“I suggest that people start replacing the word blame with the word responsibility. It’s a small step, but it starts to shift the conversation. It creates forward motion. Blame runs in circles.”
“Blame is bitter,” I said.
I thought about a woman I used to work with who said we’re so responsible for our lives, we even pick our own parents, a cosmic match.com. I’d thought about picking my parents. Despite everything, they seemed like the right parents for me. When I was young, I realized that as nice as my friends’ parents were, none of them made chili with smoked paprika, or read plane crash parables.
Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 02 - Spring Moon Page 18