Determination

by Angela B. Macala-Guajardo

  The female doctor faded.

  Mom’s movements then began to look like she was moving in fast-forward. She rocked her torso as she stood over the gurney, but it looked more like bobbing to fast-paced heavy metal music. She paced the room unnaturally fast, her gait that of a walk, yet covered ground fast as a sprinter. Her circuit frequently took her to the wide window looking out over the front lawn. Roxie backed closer to Sekiro.

  “It’s okay. She has no clue we’re here. She’s just flipping through memories of this day.”

  As if to prove the Numina right, Mom’s erratic pacing slowed. She climbed onto the gurney at normal speed, set the wires by her side, then flopped against the elevated portion, both hands on her stomach. She looked at he ceiling, mouth wide open as she breathed hard.

  One male and female doctor from earlier walked through Roxie and Sekiro and positioned themselves on either side of the gurney. Roxie clutched her torso, expecting to feel herself go into cardiac arrest or something, yet she felt nothing. Ghosts of people passing through her had to have some sort of negative effect on the body, right?

  Concern for her own wellbeing got waylaid by the sight of both doctors frowning with sadness. Mom took turns glancing between the two of them, her brows furrowed. The female doctor placed her hands over Mom’s as the male one spoke, and this time his voice sounded loud and clear.

  “We didn’t think we’d ever deliver this type of news to anyone in labor,” he began softly, his tenor voice thick with emotion, “but we feel it best to let you know now, instead of later.”

  “What’s wrong with my baby?” Mom’s face lined with panic.

  “This isn’t about your baby. It’s about your husband.”

  “Where is he? He should’ve been here hours ago!”

  The female doctor tightened her grip on Mom’s hands.

  “He’s here, but he got into a car accident on the way.”

  “Bring me to him! I need to see him.”

  The male doctor clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze. “You can’t.”

  “I’m his wife. I will.” Mom gave the doctor a dagger glare.

  The female doctor said, “Dana, your husband... the doctors are fighting to resuscitate him. He sustained severe head and neck trauma in the crash. We don’t know if he’ll make it.”

  Mom gaped at the female doctor and the whole room fell silent. The silence drew out and became awkward. Roxie wished any of the apparitions would speak, maybe even Sekiro. Mom pulled her hand out of the lady’s grip and clutched her belly. She scrunched her eyes closed and grimaced. A moan escaped her lips.

  The doctors looked at each other, and then the female one spoke. “Perhaps we should’ve waited. It’s terrible news in an already high-stress situation.”

  Mom glared at her. “You sure as hell better not hide shit like that from me. I’m his wife. I have a right to know.” She doubled over and let out another moan.

  The male doctor said, “Check her dilation.”

  “Don’t you dare touch me!”

  The female doctor ignored Mom and slipped a hand under her hospital smock. Mom made no move to kick or push the doctor. She clutched her belly and just grimaced through a contraction. “Eight centimeters. She’s getting close.”

  The unfolding scene slipped into mute fast-forward once again. Doctors came and went but there was always at least one staffer with Mom. Roxie tried to wrap her brain around how it’d feel to be in labor with her husband’s survival in question. As much as her mom had the right to know about the wellbeing of Dad, she couldn’t help but wonder if the doctors should’ve waited.

  But then maybe Mom’s stress would’ve compounded as she got closer to birth, as she kept wondering and asking about her husband. How could the doctors feel good about keeping such dire news from her? Maybe it’d been impossible to put off the news, so they’d just shared it sooner, instead of later. On top of that, Roxie already knew her father was going to stay dead. When had her mom found out? Before or after Roxie was born? What horrible news after what was supposed to be such a wonderful moment in anyone’s life...

  The unfolding scene slowed back down to realtime as Grandma ran into the room and wrapped her arms around Mom, who was flushed, sweating, and panting rhythmically. Grandma wore khaki pants, a blouse, and a tan purse slung over one shoulder. She looked twenty years younger and she was crying. The sight of her younger appearance confused Roxie at first, then a wave of dread passed over her. For one second she thought Grandma was dead, but then she remembered that she was just watching bad memories replay themselves. The dread passed.

  “He’s gone, he’s gone! Charlie’s gone!”

  Mom hugged Grandma back with one arm. “He can’t be.” Her words came out faint and breathy.

  Grandma sobbed on her shoulder and held Mom tight. “He was dead... when he got here. But the... doctors... tried everything they could... to bring him back.” She stood hunched over and cried deep, heavy sobs as Mom sat there with numb shock all over her flushed face. “He’s been gone for over an hour now. I’m so sorry!”

  Mom’s face slowly changed from open-mouthed shock to a watery-eyed grimace as the truth sank in. She shook her head several times, whispering the word “no” with every shake. Tears slid down her cheeks. Another contraction seized her and she began wailing like Grandma had after Roxie had tried to contact her in spirit. A nurse came over and gave Mom a mix of words of comfort, and encouragement to push again. When the nurse tried to take hold her free hand, Mom wrenched it away. She gently pushed away Grandma and hugged herself just above her swollen belly. A second nurse ran in and guided Grandma to a seat near the window.

  The first one said, “Dana, you need to keep pushing for the baby’s sake.”

  Mom shook her head. “Leave me alone! Can’t you see I’m grieving?”

  Sekiro slipped her hand under Roxie’s oval shield and held her hand. The slight furrowing of her brows and her silver eyes radiated empathy. Roxie appreciated the gesture, even though she didn’t find it necessary. She knew both her parents were going to die. She’d had eighteen years to get used to the truth. The only shock with her father had been his guilt. The only mystery surrounding her mom was the way she’d died.

  The nurse said, “I know. I’m sorry. We didn’t want to tell you about your husband’s death until after your daughter’s born. I’m really sorry. You’ve been in labor for ten hours now. Please think of your baby and keep pushing.”

  “I don’t want it anymore. Cut it out.”

  The vehemence and flatness in Mom’s tone made Roxie’s grip on Sekiro’s hand go limp. The floor felt like it dropped out from under her and her balance wavered. Her wings bumped into the wall. She curled them around her sides and shoulders, and leaned against the cold wall, fighting the need to slide to the ground and just stare. Something in her gut told her she needed to stay on her feet.

  “What? Why?” The shock in Grandma’s voice perfectly matched Roxie’s emotions.

  Mom gave her a red-faced glare. Her rage filled the room to the point where Roxie could feel herself getting angry. Shouldn’t she feel furious at her mother for rejecting her so quickly?

  No. This was her mother, the only mother she’d ever have. She loved her, flaws and all, just like any good daughter should. She pushed the anger away.

  “Charlie is my life.” She rounded on the nurse. “Cut the thing out!”

  Sekiro leaned against Roxie and Roxie leaned into her, needing all the comfort she could get. She wanted to run away from this unfolding nightmare, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away any more than she’d been able to look away when the sports car get eaten up by the bus they’d ridden to New York.

  Grandma said, “That ‘thing’ is your daughter. My granddaughter. She’s your life now.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want it.” Mom doubled over with another contraction. Her accompanying moan sounded like she was pushing.

  The nurse moved to the foot of the gurney and forced M
om’s feet into the birthing stirrups. She sagged with relief when Mom left her feet there. “Dana, we do cesareans only when a life is in danger of being lost. You are perfectly healthy and dilated enough for a safe delivery.”

  Mom gave her a measuring look. Grandma wrung her hands and silently watched, hope and fear lining her teary face. “Fine. But once it’s out, take it away. I want nothing to do with it.”

  “Ma’am, you’ll most like feel differently once your daughter’s born. We won’t make any such decisions right now.”

  “Charlie’s the one who wanted to have a child. Not me. I agreed to having a baby to make him happy, and I knew he’d make a great father. I’m not raising a child alone.” She groaned and started pushing again.

  “I’ll help you,” Grandma said.

  “Raise it yourself, then.”

  Roxie wished Mom would stop verbally stabbing her in the heart. She felt a need to run away and cry, but at the same time shock and abject horror rooted her in place. Her brain hadn’t quite wrapped around being rejected so quickly by her mother. She couldn’t believe her mother hadn’t even tried to love her.

  Grandma looked at the nurse, who was by a phone, paging more staffers over. “Is there anything safe you can give her to help her calm down?”

  “She doesn’t need anything. She’s understandably afraid, and she’s also dealing with terrible news. It’s common for soon-to-be moms to feel thoroughly convinced that they can’t do motherhood.”

  Grandma gave her a conceding nod. Roxie wondered if Grandma been scared while giving birth to her son.

  “Things usually change once the baby’s born. I wouldn’t worry. Give Dana a chance to bond.”

  The memory jumped into fast-forward again as Mom labored with three medical professionals and Grandma hovering over her. Roxie sagged against the wall and tightened her grip on Sekiro’s hand.

  Sekiro gave her a reassuring squeeze. “The memory’s almost over.”

  “Good. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  “Now you see why I kept asking to make sure you wanted to do this.”

  “I don’t know if I regret it or not yet. My brain’s still trying to wrap around everything my mom said.”

  The memory zoomed right through the moment Roxie was born. She caught a mere glimpse of her pink, bloody body right before the doctors swaddled her and whisked her away. Grandma disappeared as well, leaving Mom sleeping by herself on a gurney without stirrups. Her stomach was flatter, and she still had an IV and EKG hooked up to her. The memory slipped back into realtime and Mom opened her eyes.

  The room was quiet, still, and quite cold. The shade was drawn over three-quarters of the window, letting a modest amount of sunlight into the room. Mom scanned the room, glanced at the empty doorway, and then studied her IV drip. She reached up and twisted a lever that cut off the drip, then pulled off the tape in the crux of her elbow. She took out the needle as well and tossed everything over the side of her gurney. She flipped aside her blankets and slid off. Her fuzzy sock-covered feet touched the floor without a sound, and a hand shot to her groin once all her weight settled on her feet. She gripped the gurney for support and stood there a while, until the worst of the pain subsided. Mom straightened up and located the off switch on the back of the EKG then unwound the tape from around her finger and removed the clip, letting gravity find a place for them on the floor.

  Mom approached the doorway one silent step at a time. She passed Roxie and Sekiro outside of arm’s reach, billowing wisps of hair bouncing with every step. Her proximity sent chills down Roxie’s spine and made goosebumps form all over her body. This woman was supposed to be someone she loved, yet she couldn’t seem to feel anything but afraid. Her mother was up to something. Roxie wondered if she was trying to sneak out of the hospital so she wouldn’t have to take Roxie home with her. She moved past the wall so she could keep her mother in view.

  Mom reached for the doorknob but stopped, her tired face tight with fast thinking. She withdrew her hand and turned for the bathroom door sitting perpendicular to the room’s entrance. She walked inside and slowly closed the door behind her. It rattled, then fell still with the metallic clank of a lock falling in place.

  Roxie glanced at Sekiro, who gave a slight shake of her head.

  “You don’t want to see what happens next.”

  Roxie studied the grain pattern of the door, filled with a sense of foreboding. She sent her mind vision into the bathroom, but saw only physical objects, and she flinched when glass shattered from within. “What’s going on?” She switched her sword to her shield hand, reached for the door and wrenched it open. Mom stood before the bathroom sink, studying the shards lying all over the sink and floor, and a few still stuck in the mirror’s frame. “Mom, what are you doing?” she said, despite herself. She very well understood what was unfolding, even though her brain was screaming with denial. Her mom would never do such a thing. Couldn’t. Roxie had this glorified image of her mother she’d clung to her entire life, an image that didn’t allow for such a selfish death.

  Mom picked up a choice large shard from the sink and walked into the stand-in shower, heedless of the shards she stepped on. She turned around and nonchalantly plopped to the bottom of the stainless steel stall.

  “Mom, stop!” She drew closer, desperate to stop things, even though she knew she was powerless to do so.

  “Roxie, you can’t change things,” Sekiro said.

  “It’s just a memory. I know. I can’t help it.”

  Mom brought the shard over one wrist and Roxie’s insides squirmed as she felt the color drain from her face. Mom sliced her wrist with one swift jerk and blood began gushing out. “Mom, stop! This is so wrong!” Mom sliced her other wrist. “Stop! I can’t take this anymore!”

  The bathroom darkened as if someone had turned off the light. Roxie took her sword back in her right hand, dropped into a defensive stance, and started hyperventilating. She needed to get out the bathroom. That was all she could take. On top of that, she had a feeling she’d be in trouble if she stayed any longer. Someone very angry was hiding in the darkness, someone that wanted to be left alone, someone that would attack if its wishes were not observed. Hoping to respect those wishes, she slowly backed out of the bathroom and into the modest lighting of the birthing room, her whole body shivering.

  Once Roxie got her breathing back under some semblance of control, she said, “Sekiro, I don’t think we should stay here any longer. I don’t think I should try to talk to her.”

  “Talk to whom?” a voice from the darkness said.

  Roxie jumped. It was her mother’s voice, but she hadn’t expected to hear it.

  Mom more floated than walked out of the darkness and stood in the bathroom’s doorway, coldness and rage emanating from her. She had blood all over her arms, hospital gown, and all up one side and in her hair as if she’s lay in a pool of her own blood. Her face, looking so much like Roxie’s, was ashen and gaunt.

  Roxie took a step back and said nothing, afraid she’d vomit if she’d opened her mouth. It wasn’t the blood and gauntness. It was the memory of watching her mother slice both her wrists.

  Mom took a step forward, bringing the darkness with her. She was like Medusa with darkness for snakes. “Answer me!”

  Roxie flinched again. Should she run or stay? She didn’t see a reason to stay anymore, even though she had one shred of hope that she’d be able to form some sort of bond with her mother like she’d been able to with her father. Running seemed like the smarter option right now, even though she wondered if all she had to do was help her mother past her rage like she’d helped her father past his guilt.

  Taking a deep breath, Roxie lowered her sword to her side and faced her mother. She had to try. If things failed, then at least she’d move on knowing she did everything she could. “To you.” If things went well and Roxie survived all this, including Nexus, she’d have to ask Grandma why she concealed Mom’s suicide. She didn’t blame Grand
ma for wanting Roxie to have a more positive image of her own mother, for hiding the rejection. But still, it was all a lie. She felt robbed of the truth, harsh as it was, and now she’d been clobbered upside the head with it.

  “To me? What could you possibly want with me? Get out!” She took another step closer.

  Roxie held her ground and braced herself, half expecting a shred of darkness to lash out and bite her like a snake. “I’m your daughter.”

  Mom’s hard eyes widened. “You’re...?”

  Chapter 7

  Wrath and Scorn

  “Your daughter.” Come on. Say it. Please.

  “You’re not an angel of death come to take me to a deeper circle of Hell?” She clenched her bloody hands into fists.

  “No. I’m just your daughter. And an Aigis.” She sheathed her sword. She probably shouldn’t talk to her own mother with a weapon drawn. Sekiro whispered her reservations but Roxie shook her head. She also hoped such angels--if angels existed at all--didn’t do such things to lost souls. Her mother was human, no more perfect than anyone else. She’d made a bad decision and now she was creating her own hell; she didn’t need supernatural forces making her death worse.

  Mom digested the information. The darkness hovered behind her shoulders. Roxie could barely make out the room doorway behind her. “Your grandmother should’ve made it perfectly clear that I don’t love you. Go away!”