by Annette Mori
Mom was always a beautiful woman and she was still attractive, but she had that kind of beat down look about her that I was sure wasn’t present before I got sick.
Dad was a little heavier and had a little less hair than I remembered. He wasn’t exactly going bald—more like a bit of thinning on the top. A touch of gray bordered his temples and gave him a distinguished look.
“Oh, hi, Mr. and Mrs. Moore. I’m Carly.” She extended her hand and my mom cautiously shook it. “My mom is Dr. Sullivan. She said it would be okay if I read to Belinda. It’s okay, isn’t it?”
Before Mom could respond, Dad extended his hand and answered. “Sure, sure, that’s very nice of you to take time out of your Saturday to spend with Belinda.”
Mom was scrutinizing Carly, like maybe she had some ulterior motive to wanting to spend time with the vegetable. At least that’s what filtered through my brain as I watched her reaction to Carly’s introduction. I didn’t want Carly to stop reading to me or to end her visits. They’d only just begun. I was praying that even if my mom had some reservations, Dad would step in to save the day. I was monumentally grateful when Mom simply nodded her assent.
Carly carefully placed a bookmark on the page where she’d left off and stood, signaling that her visit was over. “I’ll go now. I don’t want to interrupt your visit.” She turned back to me and waved. “Bye, Belinda, I’ll try to get back sooner, but I’ll definitely be back on Friday.”
“She looks good today. She seems to have a bit more color in her face,” Dad noted.
Mom looked at me and I could nearly taste the sadness she projected. The despair draped all around her like a heavy blanket. “I suppose so. Do you think that girl is here for the right reason? Why in the world would she want to read to Belinda on a Saturday?”
“Oh, hon, she seemed like a nice girl. Not everyone is as cruel as….” Dad’s voice trailed off as the pain paraded across his face.
“Well, I’d like to talk to Dr. Sullivan about this. I want to make sure she isn’t taunting Belinda or something. Can you please go get her while I sit with Belinda?” Mom asked.
Dad nodded and left the room.
Mom sat in the chair Carly had vacated. She put her hands over her face and began to cry. “I should have let them pull the plug. Why couldn’t I just let you die? My beautiful girl was gone but I couldn’t just let the angels take you home.” She swiped angrily at her tears and lifted her head two seconds after I heard Dr. Sullivan’s heels on the linoleum.
I can’t remember feeling any more despair than in that moment, when I learned that my mom regretted her decision to keep me alive. If I couldn’t get someone to recognize I was truly alive inside my broken and twisted body, I would spend the rest of my life in a state of hopelessness. At that moment, I agreed with Mom. I wished they had pulled the plug. I felt a tear travel down my cheek, but I don’t think my mom saw this. Perhaps if she had, my eventual recovery and entrance back into the world of the living would have come much sooner.
Dad followed Dr. Sullivan into my room, walked to Mom, and placed his hand on her shoulder.
Dr. Sullivan turned her attention to Mom. “Your husband said you wanted to speak to me.”
“Yes. Your daughter was in here earlier and I don’t want Belinda upset. I realize she doesn’t really comprehend what’s happening around her, but if your daughter is taunting her in any way….”
Dr. Sullivan frowned and interrupted Mom. “I assure you that Carly has the best intentions. She is not your typical self-absorbed teenager and if you took the time to observe how she interacts with your daughter, you would know that.”
I could hear the steely tone in the doctor’s voice. I was livid. I wanted my mom to butt out because I wanted Carly to come back and visit. Sitting in the chair all day with limited interaction was lonely and boring. Carly and Nessa had been the only two bright stars to cross my path since I became aware of my surroundings. I must have had some kind of physical reaction because three sets of eyes turned in my direction.
The grief process is an interesting thing. Not more than ten minutes earlier, I’d experienced a profound sense of sadness, but now my anger resurfaced. I suppose not everyone goes through those five stages of grief in any kind of linear progression. Sometimes people skipped a stage or bounced back and forth among the five stages. No two situations played out in the same manner. It would take me a very long time to truly feel acceptance about what had happened to me. Carly was instrumental in getting me there.
Dr. Sullivan rushed to me and pulled out her stethoscope. “This happened the other day. Carly and Nessa both noticed some changes in Belinda. I think it’s you that just upset Belinda. On both occasions where Carly was visiting, Belinda smiled.” The doctor listened to my heartbeat.
Mom placed her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God, do you think she really can understand what we’re saying?”
“There have been some minor changes since the last time you visited. Belinda seems to be tracking my movements. Nessa was able to feed her today without touching her lips to get her to open her mouth. She would watch the fork and anticipate the food. I’m not suggesting you get your hopes up because it could just mean a slightly improved capacity for response. But something has definitely changed.”
“I’m sorry I made that accusation about your daughter. It’s just been hard on my girls. Kids can be so cruel and they’ve been taunted ever since Belinda ended up….” Mom’s voice trailed off before she could complete her thought.
“Carly genuinely wants to help and I think it would be good for Belinda to have the stimulation.”
Mom nodded. “Yes, of course. You’re right. We only come to visit on the weekends, so whatever time Carly can spare is appreciated if Belinda reacts as positively as you say she does.”
“I need to continue my rounds. Please, excuse me.” The doctor made a stiff exit and it looked to me like she was still a bit miffed.
Dad coughed and interjected his thoughts. “Hon, I understand why you are leery of Carly’s intentions, but maybe you were a little judgmental there without knowing the facts. What if someone had attacked one of our daughters like that? I’m sure you would have reacted in the same way Dr. Sullivan did. Carly seems like a nice young woman and I think it’s very generous of her to want to spend time with Belinda and read to her. Maybe you have some groveling to do the next time we visit.”
Mom sighed. “You’re right, Leonard. Perhaps I’m projecting some of my guilt. I can barely stand to visit each week. It breaks my heart to see her like this. Six years is a long time to hold any hope for significant improvement.”
I tried to block out their conversation. They never talked directly to me, only to one another. In my mind, this was not a visit, but merely an obligation. I was their daughter, so in their minds a visit each week was expected. What would people think if they didn’t visit their daughter, the vegetable?
Mom pulled out some kind of electronic reading device that I later learned was something called a Kindle. I thought this was a brilliant invention. People could now store hundreds of books on a compact device. Dad crossed his legs and focused his attention on the TV. I guess this was their idea of a visit—hanging out in my room for a couple of hours. I wondered where my sisters were. Had they visited in the past, but now had better things to do with their time?
After a couple of hours, they both leaned in, kissed my forehead and left without even saying goodbye. I suspect they figured doing so was just a set of wasted words because after all, I didn’t understand anything anyway.
Chapter Five
I was delighted when Carly came again on Sunday. She started to open the book to read to me, then stopped. It seemed like something was weighing heavily on her mind so I moved my head and looked directly into her eyes. I tried to let her know I could understand and maybe talking to someone who couldn’t talk back had some advantages. It must have worked because she opened up to me on this third day of my re-birth.
“I t
hink something is wrong with me, Belinda. The nicest, most popular guy in school wants to date me and I feel nothing for him—zilch, no spark at all. I know I’m kinda young to figure things out, but I’m pretty sure I’m gay. I’d rather come and read to you than go on a date with him.”
Carly slapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God, that came out all wrong. I didn’t mean that the way it must have sounded. It’s just you have really expressive eyes and even though you haven’t said a word, I feel more connected to you than to Jacob. I’m probably totally freaking you out right now, huh?”
I put all my energies into trying to move my arm or my hand. If only I could touch her and reassure her that I wasn’t at all freaked out.
She must have noticed some kind of movement in my hand, because she grabbed my left hand and began massaging it. “Oh, Belinda, you moved your fingers. God, I wish I knew what that meant. I can only hope you’re not disgusted with me and are not trying to tell me to leave.”
She grabbed my other hand and started gently moving my fingers. “I’m interested in physical rehabilitation and I read that it’s important to move a person’s extremities so that they don’t atrophy as much. I don’t know if they do that here as much as they should, so I hope you don’t mind.”
I didn’t mind at all. Just because I couldn’t move anything, didn’t mean I couldn’t feel a person’s touch and hers was gentle and loving. I craved the simple human contact.
She tilted her head and looked directly into my eyes. I was able to present her with a smile. At least that part of my body was working. It hardly made any sense that I could smile, move my head a little, and make miniscule finger movements, but I couldn’t move my arms or legs, and my inner thoughts would not surface through my vocal chords no matter how much energy I put forth.
“You’re smiling again. I’ll take that as a good sign that you aren’t freaked out by my revelation about being gay. Somehow, I just knew you wouldn’t judge me. I don’t think my best friend, Tammie, will be as understanding and I wouldn’t dream of telling her that I’d rather be going out with her than Jacob.”
Carly sighed. “Although…sometimes she can be a little mean. I wish her outward appearance matched what’s inside. She didn’t used to be snotty. I’m finding it more difficult to be around her when she spouts off about not wanting me to hang out with the losers anymore because it’s ruining her reputation. She says it’s like what they teach us about sexually transmitted disease—you’re not just sleeping with one person, but with every person that’s ever slept with your current partner. She claims my choice of friends rubs off on her reputation.”
I would have bet my remaining physical abilities that she wouldn’t approve of Carly spending her Sunday afternoons with the retard. I closed my eyes.
“God, I’m sorry, Belinda. Here I am rambling away and you’re probably wishing I would just go home already and leave you alone.”
No, no, no. That is exactly the opposite of what I wanted. I became agitated again and this time I must have been able to shake my head a little from side to side.
Carly had a curious expression on her face. “Belinda, did you just try to shake your head and tell me no?”
I put every ounce of strength and focus into nodding affirmation to her question.
“Was that a yes? I have to call Mom right this instant.” She started to get up and reach for her bag. Her excitement filled the room like an explosion of confetti.
I blinked and smiled at her.
“Wait. I have an idea. Belinda, can you blink once if the answer is yes and twice if the answer is no?” she asked.
I blinked once.
“You can understand me, can’t you?”
I blinked once again.
She propped her chin on her hand and it looked like she was trying to think of something to ask. Her head shot upright and she smiled. “Do you like liver and onions?”
I blinked twice.
She clapped her hands and giggled. “Yeah, me neither. Gosh, I wonder who does like that crap.”
She grabbed both of my hands in hers and kissed my cheek. “I knew it. I knew you were inside there just waiting for someone to unlock the secret, like you were able to unlock my secret. I’ve never been able to tell anyone about my, you know, preference, but I just knew you would understand.” She hesitated before whispering the next question. “Do you think I’m some kind of pervert or something?”
I immediately blinked twice. Although I hadn’t had much exposure to gay people before, I knew what it meant and if someone as beautiful and sweet as Carly was gay—it had to be okay.
“Thank you. I promise I won’t be gone long, but I have to call Mom and have her stop by. She has to see this. I want her to make some kind of arrangement to have you tested. You’ll prove to everyone that you’re getting better and I’m gonna have a ringside seat to your miraculous recovery. I can’t wait to watch it all unfold.”
She jumped up from her chair and dashed out of the room.
I didn’t want to disappoint her. I would do everything in my power to impress the beautiful young woman who’d singlehandedly figured out a way for me to express myself.
†
I guessed that they lived close to whatever rehabilitation center my parents sent me to, because it wasn’t long before Carly and her mother burst into the room.
“Go ahead, Mom, ask her any yes or no question. She blinks once for yes and twice for no,” Carly exclaimed.
“Okay, Carly, calm down.” Dr. Sullivan pulled a chair up beside me. “Belinda, do you know who I am?”
I blinked once.
“Do you remember your family visiting you yesterday?”
I blinked once again.
“Did your sisters come with them?”
I blinked twice.
Dr. Sullivan looked up at Carly, who grinned so broadly I thought her face would crack. Well, not really, but you get the idea.
“It does appear that she may be tracking our conversation. I agree, Carly, it’s worth taking her for testing. I’ll contact her parents tomorrow and see what I can do to call in a few favors.”
“Why not today?” Carly asked
Dr. Sullivan chuckled. “It’s Sunday, Carly. I’m sure one more day will not make that much of a difference.” She narrowed her eyes at her daughter. “You certainly have taken quite an interest in Belinda.”
Carly shrugged. “There’s just something special about her, Mom. I can’t really put my finger on it, but I think we’re destined to be great friends. I could use a good friend right now.” Her voice faded out as she made this last declaration.
Dr. Sullivan raised her eyebrow. “What about Tammie? Did you two have another spat? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Carly shook her head and mumbled. “No, nothing important. Hey, sorry to drag you out here on your day off. I just thought this was kind of monumental. I’m gonna hang around a bit and read some more to her, if that’s okay.”
Dr. Sullivan brought her hand up to Carly’s silky hair and stroked her in an intimate gesture of motherly love. The look on her face told the whole story. It was clear to me how proud she was of her daughter. “Sure, honey, but make sure you’re home for dinner. I don’t want you missing our Sunday night tradition.”
“Of course not, never gonna happen. I love our tradition and I love you, Mom.”
“Me too, peanut.”
I was thrilled with this new development. Finally, I would have a chance to demonstrate my ability to understand everything happening around me. Just because I couldn’t speak, didn’t mean I’d lost all my intellectual abilities. I worried about how much damage my mysterious illness had done to my brain and I wanted to know what I might be up against. I had plans for my future and I wasn’t going to let anything get in my way. I knew if I just worked hard enough, I’d get my life back.
After Dr. Sullivan left, Carly slumped in the chair beside me and groaned. “God, what am I gonna tell my parents. They’ll be s
o disappointed in me.”
In my ten year old brain I didn’t exactly know what they would be disappointed about. Our family didn’t talk much about gay people, so I didn’t have any pre-conceived notions about whether being a lesbian was a good or bad thing.
“I’ve been reading a little about, uh, gay people, and now most psychologists say you’re born that way. Unfortunately, it seems like some folks think it’s still a choice. I don’t know which category my parents will fall into. If I was born this way, I can’t help how I feel, but I don’t think that matters much to some people. What do you think, Belinda?”
She didn’t ask me a yes or no question, so I didn’t know how to let her know that I still thought she was the kindest, most beautiful human being I’d ever met and her being a lesbian didn’t matter one bit to me. I tried to move my hand again and must have been marginally successful, because she grabbed my hands again and started absently stroking them.
“Oh, sorry, I’m such an idiot. I need to ask yes and no questions. Belinda, do you think I’m some kind of perverted freakazoid?”
I barely let her get the question out before blinking twice.
She jumped up from the chair and impulsively hugged me. “I’m so lucky to have met you. I just know we’re gonna be great friends and you will get better. You have to feel so claustrophobic in this room. I’ll ask Mom if I can take you outside tomorrow. Of course, I’ll have to convince the principal that my volunteer work should extend to daily visits. I can be very convincing when I want something.”
Carly sat back down and retrieved the book she was reading. She opened to the page she left off and started reading again. Although it was awkward, she grabbed one of my atrophied hands and held it the entire time she read to me. She would let go each time she turned the page and then promptly retrieve my hand afterward. I could feel my hands begin to respond to her caress and I was convinced this was the beginning of my physical recovery. Each time Carly or a physical therapist would move my limbs, I regained a bit more movement. At first, I didn’t believe most of the caregivers noticed my improvement—except for Nessa and Carly. Both of them seemed to be the only ones who could detect any progress.