Impulse
Page 21
not to mention what will follow:
going home, back to our families,
friends, schools, and hangouts.
The very things that put us here
to begin with. Am I ready?
Dr. Starr wants to know.
Are you ready to leave
Aspen Springs, Vanessa?
Even beyond that, you’ll be
eighteen in a few months.
Can you take responsibility
for yourself, live on your own,
and deal with your BPD?
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“But I’ve got to take care
of myself sooner or later.
I know the lithium is working,
at least most of the time.
I hardly ever swing manic
anymore. Sometimes I do
feel depressed, but not near
as much as I used to.”
What about your mother?
Are you ready to deal with
what happened to her?
Okay, now I feel depressed.
“I don’t know if I can ever
deal with what happened.”
You have no choice, if you
want to get well and stay
that way. Can we talk
about her now?
Fifteen Minutes Later
I’ve said all I’m going to
say about Mama, except,
“I can’t remember her being
happy after Bryan was born.
I thought she should be happy—
he was such a beautiful little
baby, no trouble at all, really.
But she was seriously depressed,
almost psychotic.”
That’s not unusual for someone
with bipolar disorder, Vanessa.
Especially if that someone
was not being treated for
the condition. Had she been
diagnosed yet?
“No. Not until Bryan started
kindergarten. It was actually
his teacher who pointed
out the symptoms to Grandma.
Gives you some idea of how
parent/teacher conferences went.”
Dr. Starr smiles. Yes, I can see that.
You know, Vanessa, the stress
of pregnancy and the postpartum
period triggers depression
in a lot of women. If they have a
history of mental illness, they can
become dangerous. Was your mother
a danger to your brother or you?
What the hey? I’ve got
nothing to lose by telling
her and it might be good
to get it off my chest,
now that I don’t have to worry
about Mama’s fierce
brand of retribution.
I Said Mama Wasn’t Happy
“But the truth is, she was
a total psycho some of the time.
When Bryan was a baby,
I was afraid to leave him
alone with Mama. One
time I came home from
school and he was screaming.
Mama had him in the kitchen
sink, giving him a bath.
The water was way too hot.
I yanked him from her hands,
his baby skin all red and steaming.
I have to scrub away his sin,
Mama said. Jesus expects it.
“A baby has no sin, Mama,”
I tried to tell her.
We are born into sin and must
be cleansed. Damian says so.
Dr. Starr interrupts,
Who is Damian?
“Mama’s personal ‘angel,’
who followed her everywhere.
I didn’t think he was very
nice, for an angel.”
I see. Well, it was a good
thing you came in when
you did. Was that why you asked
your grandmother to step in?
I nod. “That, and the fact
that Mama beat me
for ‘arguing with the will
of the Lord.’ I didn’t think
much of the Lord for a very
long time.”
Conner
Tomorrow We’re Off
To the far distant side of
the Black Rock Desert, where the
mountains tumble down to crash-
land on the playa. Talk about
wilderness—rabbits, and
the coyotes who love them, that’s
all we’ll have for company except
each other and a watchdog or two.
Dr. Boston is worried
about me. The Challenge is
not the place for heroics,
Conner. You’ll be physically
tired and mentally drained
by the end of Day Five, no
matter how good the shape
you’re in. You tend to want
to play savior. Promise me
you won’t. Not out there, okay?
“I appreciate that you’re
worried, Dr. B. Don’t be.
In fact, you’ve got me all
wrong. No savior complex
here. All I want is the key to
the front door. Adios. So long.”
Her smile fades. What then, Conner?
How will you deal with the kind
of pressure that brought you to
us? You cannot allow everyday
stress to make you put a gun
to your chest and pull the trigger.
I don’t want to read in the paper
that my best patient has died.
Best?
“What do you mean by ‘best’?
Least trouble? Cutest? Most
likely to succeed after he’s
released? ’Cause I’m not that.”
Why not, Conner? You were on
a fast track to success. No
reason to derail, is there?
You’ve no lack of ambition.
She gives me this great smile
and I wonder, for maybe
the thousandth time, what’s
under her short little skirt.
I decide on the direct route.
“My main ambition, once
I leave here, is getting laid
by some gorgeous older woman….”
I see, says Dr. B (Heather?).
You know, we’ve never resolved
this older woman thing. Can we
possibly do that before you go?
“Since I’m leaving tomorrow,
I suppose that means right now?”
It does. Sometimes a feeling
of attraction grows because
a specific incident spurs it.
You said your mother rarely
touched you. Remember when you
were small? Who did touch you?
I gasp beneath the weight
of memory, recollection
so evocative it dwarfs
all thought of Emily.
Eyes closed, I find her there
in the dark, hands like silk,
the kind you want to wear close
to your most private places.
Hands to Guide
Little boys to exactly those
places they want to see, to touch,
to taste. Perfect hands, that
flaunt her beauty. “Leona.”
Your governess, the one who …
Heather halts midsentence,
changes direction. Can
you talk about the assaults?
I shake my head. “I never
thought about it that way.
Leona never assaulted me,
and the things she taught me
didn’t hurt. I was always
expected to act all grown up.
She made me a man for real,
and no one suspected a thing.”
No adult has the right to
turn a child into a man,
nor to teach him things
he’s too immature to learn.
Leona was a prefator, and
you were a willing victim—
a child in need of human warmth
can easily blur the line between
affection and perversion.
Your trust in Leona was not
deserved. She did assault you.
It just didn’t hurt until now.
Too much to take in, too
much to purge. Why must
every memory, once sweet,
dead-end in such ugliness?
Too much …
Tony
Off We Go
On our grand adventure—
most likely the only grand
adventure I’ll ever have.
Better make the most of
it—grab life by the scrotum
and squeeze real hard.
We pile into a big Suburban,
Sean behind the wheel and Raven
taking shotgun. Dahlia, Lori,
and Justin grab the middle
seat, leaving the back to
Conner, Vanessa, and me.
Just the way I like it. We head
east from Reno, drive for miles
across vast, high desert.
Vanessa’s knee rests against
mine. You can see forever!
It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
“Not as beautiful as you,”
I say, loving the way
it makes her blush.
God, Tony says Lori, if
I didn’t know better, I’d
say you were playing her.
Subtle as dreams, I reach
for Vanessa’s hand. “Nope,
not playing. Not at all.”
Vanessa snakes her fingers
around mine, comfortable
with them there. I know.
I would expect Conner
to say something, or at
least notice. But he just
stares out the window, silent
as death. I wonder where he
is right now, ’cause it’s not here.
Eventually, We Turn
North off the interstate,
onto a backwater highway.
To the east, the Black
Rock Desert stretches
emptiness as far as the eye
can take in. I’ve heard
it’s an inferno come summer.
But spring has softened it
with wildflowers and little
creeks that fill big cracks
in the playa. I’ve never been
here before, but I’ll be back.
“Hey, Conner, you ever been
to the Black Rock before?
Ever done Burning Man?”
I have, interrupts Dahlia.
I went with my boyfriend
last year. It was awesome.
Finally, Conner turns from
the window. You crazy?
Getting naked, scarfing tofu,
and chanting mantra for three
days with a bunch of dope-
smoking pyromaniacs?
Dahlia laughs. That about
covers it, okay. It was
a total, out and out gas.
Conner notices Vanessa
and me holding hands.
He scowls. Whatever.
“I always meant to check
it out but never managed
to find a way out here,” I
say. “Hey, Vanessa, if I can
get us a ride, want to
come with me this year?”
Before She Can Answer
Raven launches into
a whole discussion
about the Burning Man
Festival—how it started
as a fan Labor Day party,
with campouts and bonfires.
How it has segued into
a major assault on the
landscape, despite the best
efforts of BLM officials
and every good intention of
the partiers in question.
This desert may not look
like it deserves respect,
she says. But it is unique.
Fragile. And it is up to
us to protect it. I hope
your time out here will
convince you of that.
We are going to take
you places few people
ever see. The journey
will not be easy. It will,
as the name implies,
challenge you, in mind
and body. But once
you complete it, I
guarantee you will
come away with new
respect for yourselves
Respect for myself?
The concept is totally
foreign. Improbable.
If Challenge by Choice
can do that for me,
I will always be
grateful.
Vanessa
We Stop for Lunch
In Gerlach, the last town
(if you could call it that)
before leaving civilization
completely. There’s one gas
station, one post office, and
one restaurant—Bruno’s.
We always stop here, says
Sean. After this, it’s MREs,
except for what we might
catch to eat fresh.
“Catch? You mean like
bugs?” Images of gross-out
TV shows come to mind.
No, says Raven. He means
like fish. Or maybe crawdads.
Ever try crayfish, fresh
from a mountain reservoir?
“Eeeeuuuuu! Those little
lobster-looking things?
You actually eat those?”
Ask anyone in the Deep South,
they’ll tell you they’re heavenly,
Raven says. And this time of year,
they’re hungry—easy to catch.
I decide I’d better eat every
crumb of this giant cheeseburger
and fries. It may be the last thing
I’ll feel like eating for a while.
Sounds like we’ll have some
serious choices to make.
Miniature shellfish. (You don’t
eat the antennae, do you?)
Or just-add-water-to-refortify
meat, potatoes, and gravy.
Mmmm. I can hardly wait!
Back on the Road
And now it’s a gravel road,
rutted and scarred by winter,
slow going in this old four-by.
Everyone seems subdued, lost
in daydreams, anxiousness,
or the hypnotic lull of the sameness
outside the windows. This is high
desert at its most monotonous—
the cracked, white playa, giving
way to miles and miles of sage,
greasewood, and cheatgrass.
And yet it’s riveting, beautiful
in its starkness.
“Look.” I point at deep impressions,
stamped in the playa.
“Wagon tracks. Can you believe
you can still see them? They’re
more than a century old!”
Beside me, Conner rouses.
My great-great grandmother
came to Nevada in one of those wagons.
He pauses, then finishes.
If she had stayed in Pennsylvania,
I wouldn’t be here now.
It sounds more like a wish
than an observation, and it makes
me sad. “I’m glad you’re here,
Conner. I
don’t know what
happened when you went home,
but you’re not the same person
now. I miss the Conner who left.”
He slides his arm around my
shoulder, pulls me close, whispers,
I’m sorry, Vanessa. You are
the most incredible girl I’ve ever
known, and you deserve much
better than me.
Okay, That Worries Me
Conner has always acted
completely self-assured,
in control. It’s part of what
makes him so damn attractive.
I let my hand settle on his thigh,
wish we were somewhere
I could kiss him. Really
kiss him. “What’s wrong,
Conner? Talk to me.”
He sags slightly, weighting
the arm around my shoulder.
Do you know how great
it would be to live a simple
existence, like the pioneers
did? Okay, I know they died
from diseases we now kill
with little pills. And I know
life was tough without electricity
and running water.
But think, just think, how
awesome it was not to worry
about college, or an upwardly
mobile career. No pressure,
no expectations beyond staying
alive and keeping your family safe.
He covers my hand with his.
Think how people must have
loved each other when all they had was each other.
That does sound nice, but life
wasn’t really easy back then, not
that it’s easier now. I’m still
not sure what’s going on