Trail of Broken Wings

by Badani, Sejal

  This time, though, Ranee did not check the calendar. Nor did she meet with a guru who would tell her the most auspicious time for the event to take place. She couldn’t foresee finding the right moment to unplug Brent’s life support, to cut off all oxygen to him so he could leave this world, freeing Ranee and her daughters at last. Instead, haste was the conductor, the one who determined when it would happen.

  But as much as Ranee wants it done already, she accepts it is no longer her decision alone. All three of her daughters are finally together, with her, and she will not disrespect them by failing to give them the voice they have earned. They lived through him—it is up to them when he should die. There is no calendar to consult, no time that proves better than another. No stars have aligned to protect her three girls; fate has failed to intervene. Their combined voice is now more powerful than the universe’s, their strength earned from having survived. They will do this now because it is past time for them to say good-bye.

  When Ranee arrives at the room, she assumes she will be first, since she’s come earlier than the time she designated. She is surprised when she sees Trisha standing by the window, her back to where Brent lies on the bed.

  “Beti,” Ranee exclaims, going over to wrap her arm around her daughter’s waist. “You’re here early.” When Trisha returned to her own house, it left Ranee’s quieter, emptier than she thought possible. Odd, she never missed Brent’s presence, but Trisha’s departure left the home barren, even though Sonya was still there.

  “I needed to see him,” Trisha admits, turning fully into her mother’s arms. “To ask him why.”

  “What did he say?” Ranee asks, unsure. Somehow, they would have to find their way, and, maybe, by holding one another’s hands along the charred trail, each of them would find their own path to healing.

  “He didn’t answer.” Trisha sobs the obvious. “But you know what?” She pulls away, facing Ranee, “I don’t think, even if he were awake, he would have cared enough to.”

  “I don’t think he had a reason,” Ranee says, holding her daughter as closely as she can. “But it doesn’t matter.” Each of them has fallen behind, but they will wait for one another. They will never abandon the others, never stop holding out their hand to help. “When I was a child, I used to watch flocks of birds as they traveled across the sky, leaving their home for another. Without fail, one or two would always fall back.”

  “What happened?” Trisha asks.

  “They always found their way.” Ranee glances at Brent’s body before turning back to her daughter. “You’re going to be fine,” Ranee promises. “We all are going to be fine.” It is the first time she has ever given her word. For the first time in her life, Ranee is sure she can keep it.

  Marin and Gia arrive soon after. Ranee had specifically asked for Gia to join them. No matter how desperately they tried to keep the secret, Gia has become part of their conspiracy. Having suffered from the fallout of their existence, she deserves a voice in the inheritance she has never asked for. Ranee immediately moves toward Gia, taking her grandchild into her arms. “How are you, Beti?” she asks, stroking the young girl’s hair in affection and love.

  “I’m good, Mumji,” Gia answers, glancing at Marin.

  “I’m sorry I missed your party,” Trisha says, coming over to join the hug. “I thought I could take you shopping? Let you choose your own birthday gifts? I’m not sure I know what a sixteen-year-old needs.” She is teasing, some of her old self filtering through the dark clouds.

  “That would be great,” Gia says, sounding shy.

  “Then it’s a date.”

  “Are you all right?” Marin asks as Trisha moves closer to them. “Sonya said you were hurting.”

  “I’m getting there,” Trisha offers, smiling. “Thank you.”

  “Maybe we could spend some time together soon? Talk?” Marin asks.

  “I would like that,” Trisha answers, giving her sister’s hand a squeeze.

  “Good.” Marin turns toward Ranee, her voice gentler, kinder than before. “Why did you call us here? Is there news on his condition?”

  “No,” Ranee begins, just as David enters. “Ah, here is the gentleman I was waiting for. Dr. Ford.”

  “Good to see everyone,” David says, offering them a smile.

  “Thank you for meeting with us.” Ranee glances around. “Sonya is not here yet. I wonder if we could wait just a few minutes? She said she would be here.”

  There are nods and murmurs of agreement.

  “Where is Raj?” Ranee asks Marin.

  “He’s waiting downstairs.” Marin glances at Gia, who is staring at the floor. Ranee understands immediately—Raj drove them to the hospital to be with his daughter. “Since you only asked me and Gia to the meeting, he wanted to give us privacy.”

  Ranee nods. “That was kind of him.”

  Just as the room falls silent, Sonya bursts in, harried. “Sorry I’m late,” she murmurs, her gaze encompassing the room. When her eyes fall on David, she visibly tenses. Ranee turns toward the doctor, who has locked eyes with her youngest. Startled, Ranee turns back toward Sonya who, in seconds, has shuttered her outward emotions, as if refusing to reveal any more. “It looks like everyone is here.”

  “Yes,” Ranee murmurs, tucking away this new revelation for later. “I asked everyone to meet here so we can move forward with your father’s situation.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sonya says, speaking for everyone. “Has there been a change?” She automatically turns toward David before seeming to catch herself.

  “I want to remove the life support,” Ranee answers. “Let him go.”

  The room falls silent, each of her daughters obviously lost in her own thoughts, her own memories. Ranee watches them carefully, the three women she bore and raised. How many mistakes she has made, how many wrong turns, her only excuse being she didn’t know which way was the right one. This would not rectify that, would not make the past disappear, but it might give them a chance to begin again.

  “Why now, Mumji?” asks Gia, the first one to break the silence.

  “So we can heal, Beti. Together,” Ranee answers, trying not to reveal too much in front of the doctor. “What do you think?” She knows Gia loved her Dada. He gave her what he failed to offer anyone else—unconditional love.

  “Yes,” Marin answers before Gia can. “If it’s a decision to be made, then I say yes.” Her voice is strong, sure.

  “Yes,” Trisha murmurs, her answer barely audible. “If there’s any part of him that can hear us, he has to know it’s time.”

  Sonya slips her hand into Trisha’s. “I agree.” Ranee doesn’t ask on which point; it doesn’t matter. She has given her vote—they are unanimous.

  “Doctor, please tell us what is the next step.”

  Before David can answer, explain how to take away the life of someone who had taken so much, Gia speaks up. “I vote no,” she calls out, willing everyone to hear her. “I don’t want him to die.”

  “Gia,” Marin starts, but her daughter refuses to listen.

  “He’s my grandfather. He’s a good man. I love him so much,” she cries. “Why is everyone so ready to do this? He could still come out of it. We could have him back, and then everything will be fine again.”

  Ranee sits next to Brent, staring at his stillness. Marin took Gia home, her outburst leaving the decision in limbo. Trisha gave Ranee a hug, telling her she would speak to her later. Sonya simply left, David watching her the whole time.

  “It’s hard for families to make this kind of decision,” explains David, the only one left. “If there’s anything I can do . . .” he begins, but Ranee interrupts him, facing him across the expanse of the bed.

  “You care for my daughter,” Ranee says, so sure of the statement she doesn’t need to ask. “And she for you.”

  “No,” David says, clearly hesitating to answer the question. “She wants nothing to do with me.”

  “That’s not what I saw in her eyes.” Ranee
pauses, trying to find her way through unfamiliar territory. She rarely discusses her daughters’ love lives with them or anyone else. Deep within her, she feared hearing their stories, learning how their childhood affected them in adulthood. “I apologize if I am speaking out of turn, but I know what I saw. My daughter is in love with you, I am sure.” She thinks about her relationship with Brent, what defined them. “That is different from love for someone familiar—something I have learned in my advanced years. Love is sometimes demanded, expected when you have blood relations. But to be in love with another, to care for them more than for yourself—that is powerful. And you, you are concerned, worried for her?”

  “Yes,” David answers, quietly. He glances out the window. Taking the opportunity to study his profile, Ranee sees whom her daughter has fallen in love with, his strength, his character. Everything Brent is not, could never be.

  “Then why the hurt, the distance?” Ranee demands, confused.

  “That’s something that you should ask her,” David says quietly, turning back toward her. His voice holds respect, both for Ranee and Sonya. “I don’t want to presume to speak for her.”

  “I understand.” Ranee falls quiet, watching the rise and fall of Brent’s chest as the machine pumps oxygen into him. “The vote today must have surprised you,” Ranee says at last. “A family so quick to release the man who raised them, provided for them. To let him go with just one word, an agreement.” She reaches again for the mangalsutra that had a permanent place around her neck for years. Only when she touches bare skin does she remember again having removed it. “Is it always so simple for a family?”

  “No,” David says truthfully. “But Sonya told me what he did.” He pauses, staring at Brent. “How he hurt all of you. I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

  Ranee lowers her head, hiding her shock. Each of them has hidden the secret for so long, gone to extreme lengths to keep anyone from learning it, and yet Sonya, in a few short months of knowing this man, has revealed to him the one thing she has been running from her entire life.

  “It destroyed her,” Ranee shares, understanding dawning. Sonya was refusing to love this man, refusing to accept what he was offering her. Ranee could now acknowledge her part in that, recognize her inaction had caused her daughter to react this way. With that knowledge came acceptance, an understanding of what she has to do. Her words will change each one of their paths irretrievably. “But I helped,” Ranee admits, confiding in this stranger as her daughter had already done. “I made her believe she wasn’t wanted, she wasn’t loved.”

  “I don’t think . . .” David starts, but Ranee holds up a hand to silence him.

  “My daughter must know the truth. She can never be free of him until she does,” Ranee says. “She will never be able to acknowledge or trust her love for you until then.”

  “Why don’t you tell her this?” David asks.

  “Because I haven’t earned the right,” Ranee admits. “She was the one I left behind, the one I couldn’t be a mother to.” She notices his tie—a mix of superheroes. “Are you a parent, David?”

  “Yes. I have a daughter.”

  “You would do anything for her,” Ranee says, confidently.

  “Of course. Like any parent.” David sounds self-effacing.

  “No, not any parent. Not me.” Ranee shifts in the chair, her body hurting past its age. “Sonya believed I didn’t want her, that she was an accident. I told her I wanted to have her aborted; she was right.”

  Ranee waits for David to process the admission, to accept what she is saying before continuing. “But not for the reasons she believes. I didn’t want her because I couldn’t protect her. I knew what he would do, and I couldn’t stop him. But my failure was not loving her as she deserved, not saying the words she needed to hear. That was my fault, not his,” Ranee admits, turning her gaze on Brent. “So I lost her because she didn’t know I loved her.”

  “Why don’t you tell her then? Why me?”

  Ranee thinks back to the day of the graduation. She knew what was happening, knew Brent would never let Sonya be happy with her decision. Sonya had to be free, so Ranee said the only thing that would release her—the truth, knowing it would push her daughter away.

  “Because I already told her the truth,” Ranee says. “She won’t believe another truth now. Would you?”

  David watches her, his emotions guarded. He finally shakes his head, admitting his confusion. “Telling me all of this—I don’t know what to say,” David says, clearly struggling.

  Ranee nods in understanding. “It may very well be too late for my daughter and me, but it is not late for her to accept the love waiting for her. I can imagine there is no greater joy than to offer someone love, knowing it is returned completely.” Ranee offers a sad smile, knowing that will never happen for her, but grateful that her daughter can have it, willing to pay the cost. “But a mother cannot give birth to a child and not lose a piece of herself. The child takes a part of the parent with them, holding it as their own. Whether it be their heart or soul, they are now connected for always.”

  “She never knew how you felt?” David asks.

  “No. I let my daughter go.” Ranee shakes her head. “But then I got tired of missing her. Of yearning for her as only a mother can for a child born from her womb. They are a part of you and when they leave, they take that piece with them, leaving you half of your whole.” Sweat lines her palms and pools in her bra—she fears what she is about to do, but knows there is no choice. “I had to make a choice—either my husband or my daughter.”

  She glances at Brent, shocked that after all the steps taken, this would be the one that decided everything. That the man Sonya loved was the final piece of Ranee’s life. He would hold the fate of her future in his hands, but it was worth it for Sonya to finally be free. Ranee says the words slowly, forcing David to strain to hear. “I knew she would never come back as long as Brent was alive.”

  “Ranee,” David says, comprehension dawning on his face. He holds up a hand to silence her. “I don’t think you should say any more.”

  “No, I think it is finally time for me to say the truth.” Ranee stands up to put as much distance as she can between the man with whom she spent most of her life and the person she is now. “Brent had started to lose his eyesight. The only thing that helped him was his prescription eye drops.” Ranee rummages in her purse, finding what she is looking for. “It was important he take three drops every day, if only to help him see our loss. It is truly a miracle drug. It helps you to see when you fear you are blind. With it he used over-the-counter drops, to help with the redness.”

  Ranee sets the Visine bottle down on the table next to the bed, only inches away from Brent. “But it is a drug with many uses, I learned. Something so simple used the wrong way can kill.” Ranee swallows the breath she is holding. Her fingers play with the bottle, remembering the drops she put in his chai every day.

  The night of Sonya’s birthday, when Brent said Ranee and Sonya were alike, he meant it as an insult, but Ranee wanted it to be true. She wanted to have the strength Sonya exhibited—to take control and refuse Brent the permission to continue destroying.

  Looking up, she sees the shock on David’s face. She feels a moment of shame, of remorse for having revealed the truth to the man Sonya loves, but as with so much of their life, their choices are limited. For the daughter who refused to let anyone in, David may be the only person she will love. Ranee had tried to tell Sonya she loved her but accepted it was too late. Sonya didn’t trust her enough to believe. But she trusted David, and maybe, if the news came from him, she would finally accept the truth that she was loved.

  “But tell Sonya this. It is important she knows. You see, my daughter believes everything I do, I do for Trisha. This I did for Sonya. Because I love her. Because I missed her and wanted her to come back to a safe home.”

  Ranee turns away, accepting what she has done and the consequences that will follow. She knows Davi
d will have to report her, that the world will soon know her crime. She has left one prison only to be headed for another. But it is the only way she knows how to free Sonya. The only gift she has to give to the daughter she has previously given nothing.

  “And one more thing,” Ranee says before leaving. “Make sure my daughter understands it was before I learned the truth of what Brent did to Trisha, not after. It was long before.”

  SONYA

  I left the hospital room as soon as possible. I want the decision done, the life support turned off. I will never be sure if I am ready for him to die, but after hearing Marin’s and Trisha’s unequivocal yeses, I knew it was past time. But with Gia’s refusal, we are back to limbo. Waiting indefinitely for something other than what we have now.

  “How’s Will?” I ask the attending nurse. “Any updates?”

  “Discharged last night,” she says. “Diagnosed with epilepsy. Sent him home with meds to take if the seizures continue.”

  “What type?” I ask. I know there are all types of epilepsy, some that can last a lifetime, others intermittent.

  “Benign rolandic,” she says. “He should grow out of it by eighteen.” She pauses to answer a patient’s call before continuing. “Late onset is a good sign. He’ll only have a few years to deal with it.”

  “What about the soccer?” I ask.

  Swiveling her chair toward me, she says, “As they were leaving I overheard him tell his father he didn’t want to play anymore. His dad hugged him, said all that mattered was that he get better.”

  I watch her leave to attend to a patient. Will and his family had no choice with the epilepsy, but how they handled it was their decision. I think about my own reaction to the events that shaped my life. How many times have I hurt myself, by my actions, my running, because it was the only way I knew how to handle the situation.