Mother's Promise

by Anna Schmidt

  Unexpectedly, his chance to deliver what Derek had demanded came that very night.

  “Justin, I need your help,” his mom said as they were finishing up their supper. “I spoke with Mrs. Shepherd today and offered to do what I could to prepare the house for Sally to come home.”

  “She’s well again?”

  “No. That will take time, but she’s on medication that will help her. If all continues to go well, they hope to be home by the end of the week. Mr. Shepherd will return tomorrow. So after supper Zeke is going to meet us to open the house so we can clean it.”

  “All of it?” Justin glanced toward the multistoried mansion.

  “All of it,” his mom confirmed. “Zeke will help us, but it’s very important to be sure that everything is as clean as possible. Sally is even more susceptible to germs and infection now that she’s on these medicines.”

  Justin chewed his lower lip. It was always fun being with Zeke. Nothing ever seemed to bother him. In fact, Justin thought he might tell the man about Derek’s order, but then he remembered that Zeke was Sally’s uncle. Telling him would only make things worse.

  It was when his mom gave him the chore of gathering the trash from the wastebaskets in all the upstairs rooms that he saw his chance. There on a hook on the back of Sally’s door was the baseball glove. He stood for a long time fingering the smooth leather.

  He should have asked Derek why he wanted the glove. Maybe he just wanted to scare Sally. Surely that was it. Taking her glove was a warning and once she’d gotten the message then Derek would give it back.

  But Sally hadn’t done anything.

  On the other hand Derek didn’t believe that, and now that he knew about Justin being Mennonite he could make life miserable for him. Justin closed his eyes, shutting out the memory of how Derek picked on kids who were different—torturing a boy who wore thick glasses that kept slipping down his nose and another boy that Derek called a fairy.

  Life since they’d come to Florida had been hard enough. The last thing he needed was Derek turning on him. He would take the glove, and once Sally had gotten the message he would bring it back.

  Justin listened in case his mom or Zeke might be coming upstairs. But he could hear them talking as they worked together cleaning out the refrigerator. Carefully, he lifted the glove off the hook and pushed it into the black garbage bag. Then he dumped the paper from Sally’s wastebasket on top of it and did the same with the trash from all the other upstairs rooms.

  When he got downstairs Zeke had another bag of trash and held out his hand for the one that Justin was carrying. “I’ll take these out to the garage,” Zeke told Justin’s mom. “Then I can do the vacuuming while you change the beds.”

  “Thank you, Zeke. Justin, you go on with Zeke and start sweeping out the garage.”

  Justin followed Zeke out to the garage and stood by helplessly as the man heaved the two bags of garbage into one of the bins. Now what? He could hardly admit that he’d hidden the glove in the trash. Panic engulfed him. The garbage pickup was the following day. He could offer to put the bins out by the street so Zeke wouldn’t have to come back and do that.

  But when he made his offer, Zeke said, “No worries. Malcolm will be home tomorrow. He can put them out.”

  Justin felt sweat breaking out on his forehead. Think. “But the bins are dirty and Mom wanted me to sweep out the garage and Mr. Shepherd—”

  “All right, dude,” Zeke said, laughing and roughing up Justin’s hair. “Take the bins out. You folks just go around looking for work to do.” The way he said it, Justin knew it was a compliment.

  He waited until Zeke went back inside and he heard the vacuum cleaner running over the white carpeting before he rolled the trash bin down to the end of the long driveway. Carefully he positioned it so that it was blocked from the view of the house by a couple of large hibiscus bushes. He checked to be sure that he couldn’t be seen from either the street or the house then pulled out first one bag and then the other. He rummaged through them until he felt the glove. With a sigh of relief he pulled it out, hid it under the foliage of the bushes where he could find it and stuff it into his backpack the following morning, and then replaced the garbage bags in the bin.

  As he walked back up the driveway he heard a rumble of thunder. What if it rained? What if the glove got soaked?

  “Justin?”

  His mom was calling for him. He started back for the glove as a car turned into the driveway. Dr. Booker. Had he seen anything?

  The doctor beeped the horn of his car and stopped next to Justin. “Need a ride?”

  “No sir.” Justin studied the man closely. Everything about him seemed normal except for the way he looked so tired, like he hadn’t slept in days. “Just putting out the trash. Tell Mom I’m coming.”

  “Thanks for doing that,” Dr. Booker said and drove on around the curve of the driveway.

  Another rumble of thunder. Justin searched the trash bin for something he could lay over the glove to protect it. At the very bottom of the bin was an empty plastic shopping bag. He pulled it out, wrapped the glove in it, and replaced the package under the bushes. His hands were shaking. He knew that what he was doing was wrong. Tomorrow he would not give Derek the glove until he knew what his friend intended to do with it.

  Feeling a little more certain that he had not yet crossed the line, he headed back up to the house.

  Instead of coming directly home as everyone had hoped, Sally was transferred to Gulf Coast Hospital. Her blood counts had dropped slightly, and Sharon and Malcolm wanted to be very sure that Sally was stabilized within normal levels before they brought her home. This latest setback seemed to be the final straw for Sally.

  When Rachel entered Sally’s hospital room she was shocked to find the girl curled on her side, refusing to interact with anyone. Sally’s obvious fury at the unfairness of this latest blow was—as Ben called it—the elephant in the room that no one talked about. Ben had also told Rachel that everyone was at a loss to know what they might do to coax the Sally they knew and loved out of this shell of a girl.

  “She admires you so, Rachel,” Sharon said as the two women sat together, waiting for Sally to return from yet another round of tests. In the low lighting of the room—kept that way to protect Sally’s eyes—Rachel could not really see Sharon’s expression, but she heard the weariness and defeat in her voice, saw the exhaustion in the slump of her shoulders. She had refused to leave Sally’s side. She slept on a cot next to Sally’s bed, and when she ate at all it was to nibble bits from Sally’s leftovers. The trays of food that the staff delivered for her went untouched.

  Paul had told Rachel that Malcolm was at his wit’s end with worry for both his wife and child. She also knew that Ben had stopped by the spiritual care offices earlier that morning to seek Paul’s help. “Maybe you can convince Sharon to take a break.”

  “I expect Rachel would do a better job of that,” Paul had replied after calling for Rachel to join the meeting with Ben. “After all, she’s a mother with one child. After losing her husband, she certainly has firsthand knowledge of the kind of fear and anxiety that Sharon is facing, that all of you are.”

  “I could certainly try talking to Sharon.”

  The way Ben had looked at her then, with such relief and gratitude, she knew she would do more than try. With God’s help she would find some way to help Sharon understand that taking care of herself was as critical to Sally’s recovery as any medicine might be. “I need to understand the medical situation,” she told Ben. “What have they been told about Sally’s prognosis—more to the point, what has Sally been told?”

  Ben explained that in Tampa, Sally’s condition had been treated symptomatically with antibiotics and steroids to strengthen her immune system. “It’s the manifestation of the GVHD that needs to be addressed,” he explained.

  “And she responded well to the treatment?” Paul asked.

  “Yes. The team there was even able to take her off the IV adminis
tration of her steroids and give them to her orally. That was the turning point for getting her home.”

  “Sounds like she has a good chance of coming out of this,” Paul said. “I know she’s been through a great deal, but surely she understands that in the scheme of things …”

  “She’s a twelve-year-old girl,” Rachel reminded him. “She is on the brink of becoming a teenager—a young woman. And to girls her age their physical appearance can mean a great deal. Sally has already had to deal with losing her hair and with the weight gain that comes with taking the steroids. She had just begun to see that such physical manifestations of her treatment could be reversed with time. Then this happens and …”

  “And every time she looks in a mirror—or actually she doesn’t have to look,” Ben said. “She knows the steroids have given her the telltale moon face and chipmunk cheeks she had before. Her skin is splotched red and the weight she worked so hard to control will come back and now, on top of all of that, she has to wear the protective glasses.” He looked down at his hands. “When I was with her last night, she kept muttering the word ‘freak’ over and over again.”

  He did not look up as he choked out the words.

  “Let me try to talk to Sharon,” Rachel said.

  “And Sally?” Ben looked up at her, his face ravaged by days of worry.

  “And Sally,” she agreed, glancing at Paul for confirmation of the plan. He nodded and stood up. “I have a meeting,” he said, laying his hand on Ben’s shoulder, “but I’ll check on you and the family later.”

  “Thanks, Paul. Thanks for everything.” He followed Paul to the door.

  “Ben, Sharon is a woman of strong faith,” Rachel reminded him.

  “She was,” he corrected. “These days? Who knows?” He held the door open for Rachel. “I wouldn’t try praying with her if that’s what you’ve got in mind.”

  “No. At this point, I will pray for all of you.”

  They stepped into the outer office, and Eileen glanced up at them then immediately went back to her work. Ben seemed at a loss as to what he should do next. Rachel looked at the clock. “Do you have rounds now?” she prompted.

  “I do.” But still he didn’t move.

  “Come by Sally’s room after you finish your rounds,” Rachel quietly instructed him as she led the way into the corridor. “If I’m with Sally and Sharon is not, then you’ll know that I had some success.” It was a poor attempt at lightening the somber mood that pervaded every fiber of his being. But instead of the smile she had hoped for, he touched the sleeve of her dress. “Please be there,” he said and then walked quickly down the hall away from her.

  Now she had been sitting with Sharon for nearly half an hour. “Please wait with me,” she’d said wearily, indicating the only other chair in the small room. “Sally will want to see you.”

  Given what she’d been told about the girl’s demeanor, Rachel doubted that, but she also understood that Sharon hoped that saying the words would make them true. The two women sat in the shadowy room not speaking for a long moment. Rachel closed her eyes and prayed for words that might help break through the wall that surrounded Sharon.

  “I had to meet with my son’s teacher the other morning,” she found herself saying. “Mr. Mortimer?”

  Sharon looked up at her but said nothing.

  “It seems that Mr. Mortimer thought that Justin had been giving answers to the math homework to a boy named Derek Piper.”

  “Derek Piper is a bully,” Sharon said. “He picks on Sally all the time. But she’s tough. She’s always been able to hold her own with him….” Her voice trailed off, and then she looked up as if shaking off further thoughts of how Sally might be able to handle Derek in her current condition. “My guess is that Derek is forcing Justin to share the answers. Justin simply doesn’t seem like the kind of boy who would willingly cheat.”

  “Tell me what you know about this boy.”

  “His family lives on the next block over, behind us. His father owns a couple of car dealerships. He’s always bragging about being a self-made man, especially when Malcolm is around. The implication being that Malcolm was handed his money on a silver platter.”

  Rachel was surprised at Sharon’s vehemence but realized that what she had given Sharon by bringing up Derek was a release from the anger and frustration she must have been carrying inside all these long days and nights.

  “So, what did Mortimer say?” Sharon asked when her eyes again met Rachel’s in the dark room.

  Rachel told her about the meeting and her suggestion that the teacher provide tutoring for Derek. That brought a genuine laugh from Sharon.

  “Oh yeah. That’ll work. Sally tells me that the boy skips more school than he attends.”

  “But surely his parents …”

  Sharon sighed. “From what I’ve observed, Derek comes by his tendency to bully others honestly. His father is a control freak and his mom is a mouse.” She stood and got a glass of water for herself and drank it down. It was the most physical action she had taken since Rachel had entered the room. “You should warn Justin to watch his back,” she said. “Because if Derek is in trouble with Mortimer then he’s in trouble at home, and if that’s the case someone will pay.”

  “But surely if the boy is struggling with his math, his parents …”

  “Derek is as smart as any other kid. He’s lazy or maybe it’s his way of rebelling against his father’s strictness.” She glanced toward the hallway and then at the wall clock. “What’s taking so long?”

  “I’m sure things are just backed up in the lab. She’ll be back soon.”

  Sharon started smoothing the covers on Sally’s hospital bed. “When Sally tried out for the ball team, she beat out Derek Piper to become the pitcher. He quit the team that same day and for weeks after that he made her life miserable. Then once she was diagnosed, he let up a bit. Of course, she was being homeschooled for most of the time so it all resolved itself.” She clutched Sally’s pillow to her chest, and her eyes met Rachel’s. “We have to protect our children, Rachel. We have to teach them and …”

  Her shoulders started to heave as she muffled her sobs in the pillow. Rachel went to her and wrapped her arms around Sharon’s too-thin body. “We have to be there for them,” Rachel whispered, “and sometimes that means taking care of ourselves so that we have the strength they need to draw upon. You are running on empty, Sharon, and if you have nothing left to give, then what will Sally do?”

  “I’m so very tired,” Sharon whispered. “And so very, very scared.”

  “I know.” She patted Sharon’s back. “But Ben tells me that Sally has already responded well to the antibiotics she received in Tampa, and the steroids will strengthen her immune system. He says it’s only a matter of getting her counts stabilized and then she can go home—you can all go home.”

  Sharon shook her head vehemently. “She’s given up. You haven’t seen her this way. It’s so awful. My little girl is in such pain and I can’t help her.”

  “Yes you can. When Sally comes back you can let her know that you are going home for a while to shower and nap and take care of things like the mail and phone messages.” She rubbed Sharon’s back and gently added, “Give her normal, Sharon. Let her see that the routine of daily life continues.”

  Sharon pulled away and stared at Rachel. “You think that will help bring her out of this? I’ve never seen her come so close to giving up before.”

  “It can’t hurt to take a couple of hours to restore some of your strength so that you’re ready to face whatever comes next. It’s possible that in refusing to leave her side you’ve given her the impression that things are much worse than they really are. She’s not going to trust what the doctors tell her—they’ve been wrong before. For the real story she will always look to you.”

  “And what if she begs me to stay?”

  But Sally didn’t. In fact, she barely acknowledged her mother’s leave-taking or the fact that Rachel remained seated next to
her bed. She merely lay there, her eyes open, her body tensed into a fetal position, her fists clenched against her chest.

  At first Rachel said nothing, searching her brain for some possible topic that might bring about a breakthrough.

  “Sally, do you remember that terrible car accident last month?”

  Sally blinked but did not respond.

  Rachel pressed on, telling her about the meeting with the accident victim’s mother and the request to help. She described the VORP program and her meeting with the dead girl’s parents. As she talked, slowly, Sally’s body began to relax. She stretched out her legs and unclenched her fingers to pull the sheet over her shoulders. She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. All the while Rachel kept talking. The truth was that she was afraid to stop for fear she would break the web of progress that she was weaving.

  “The father is going to be the tough one,” she continued with a heavy sigh. “He’s so very angry and …”

  There was a sound from the bed. A croak that sounded like “Duh.”

  Rachel permitted herself a small smile and kept talking. “Exactly. Who wouldn’t be furious at such unfairness? I expect that everyone involved is struggling with anger as well as grief—they go hand in hand. But you see, Sally, in our faith, forgiveness is the cornerstone. And these two families need to find their way back to each other because in each other’s love and forgiveness they will find the strength they need to go on without this wonderful girl. I just wish …”

  Sally rolled onto her side and came up on one elbow. “She would have wanted that for them, don’t you think?”

  “I do,” Rachel agreed as she got up to fill a glass with water and hand it to Sally. Keep it normal, she reminded herself. “What makes you think that she would have wanted that?”

  Sally shrugged and sipped the water. “From what you’ve told me, she loved them, all of them.” She took a little more of the water and then flopped back onto the pillow. “But it’s so hard,” she whispered.