Falling out of Heaven

by John Lynch

  As I look at her now a week later I know that the session is still with her, that it will take days for her soul to settle. She smiles at me and knows that I’m concerned.

  ‘I had a dream last night, Gabriel.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I dreamt that I used again…And I loved it…I really loved it…’

  State

  ‘We’ve just had a phone call from your sister.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Yes. She wants to come in and talk to us. More specifically you.’

  ‘Okay.’

  I am in the grounds of the hospital, between the main building and the series of small huts that make up the alcohol recovery programme. Thaddeus had stopped me with a shout as I was making my way to my next class, a talk on spirituality, something I wasn’t looking forward to. It is around 9 a.m. and my mind is closed to the soft morning that has sprung up around me. I want to be anywhere but here. I resent everything I see from the delicate swooping of the birds to the smile I see in my counsellor’s eyes.

  ‘This is a chance to lay everything down.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘To get it out into the open so it loses its power. Your sister grew up in the same house as you did. You’ve been through a lot together.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Come on. Don’t forget I’m just the same as you. I know how frightening this is.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Today.’

  ‘Today?’

  ‘At 4.30. I spoke with her last night. She was in a terrible state. It seems that you being here has brought up a lot of stuff in her. It always does in family members. It is to be expected.’

  ‘It’s not like her.’

  ‘What isn’t?’

  ‘To be in a state.’

  ‘Let me tell you something. Everyone is whether they let on or not. And the bigger the act the bigger the crisis.’

  I look away. I don’t want to look in his eyes. I know that he will be pleased with what he’s just said.

  ‘I thought that she didn’t care,’ I say almost to myself.

  ‘You know better than that, Gabriel.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  I look at him and he smiles.

  ‘And it’s okay to be apprehensive.’

  I nod and then I smile.

  ‘And it’s okay to do that too.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Smile.’

  My Brother, My Killer

  It is a long time since I’ve seen her. I am nervous, not of her but of what seeing her will do to me. I am sitting with Thaddeus. He hasn’t spoken to me except to tell me to find a seat. I know what he’s doing, he’s letting me know that he must be neutral, a blank page for what my sister and I are about to write together. When she arrives she stands for a moment in the doorway and smiles at me, her familiar eyes lighting up with warmth. Thaddeus stands to greet her and indicates with a nod of his head that I should too. I think how only a short time ago if a man had done that to me, I would have called him on it, told him to fuck off. When she reaches me, she puts her arms around me. She holds on like a drowning man who has found a piece of driftwood. Eventually she lets me go and takes a small step backwards; she stumbles slightly and for a moment looks almost comical. Thaddeus walks up to her and gently placing his hand in the small of her back, steers her to the empty chair. I watch as she sits and gathers herself. She apologises for crying.

  ‘Please…Please…If you can’t cry here where can you cry?’ Thaddeus says.

  ‘Yes,’ she says.

  ‘Now.’

  I watch as Thaddeus straightens his tie and looks us both in the eye.

  ‘Let me first of all say…’

  ‘Ciara. That’s right.’

  ‘Ciara. Thank you for having the courage to come here. And rest assured that anything that is said in this room will stay in this room. So please be brave and be honest with each other.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Ciara says and raises her head to look at me.

  A silence settles between us. I think of that summer long ago when she tore herself from me, when my hands did what his had done to me. I taste the pain of that evening again as we regard each other. I know that she is here to lay that moment at my feet. I think of her child and the night that I babysat for her and her husband. I see the accusation in her eyes and wish I was somewhere else, anywhere but here. It is she who breaks our look, turning her head to stare at Thaddeus as if to say, what now? He looks at her and smiles, gently nodding his head as if to say, go on, speak. It is then that I know they have spoken in depth. I feel trapped. A panic rises in me. I put my hands to my face, and hide there for a second, I know that it is only a temporary respite and that I will have to look them both in the eye again.

  ‘Well. We could sit here all day…’ Thaddeus says. ‘In this very uncomfortable silence. Doing exactly what you have both have done all your lives, ignoring the pain that lies across you both. Or you can engage with each other. I can help you both. Get you started. But that would defeat the purpose of this, don’t you think?’

  I remember what Clive had told me, get the fuckers out, he had said, those little bastards that keep us sick, those monsters that break our goodness and lurk in the corners of a man’s soul, waiting to bring him down. I don’t remember beginning to speak and my voice when it comes sounds like someone else’s. I begin by telling her that I am sorry, that I wish I could step back into the dark hallways of our childhood and change everything. She stares at me impassively as I say this as if she is watching a sports match that doesn’t particularly interest her. I knew that it wouldn’t be good enough. I was fudging, as Thaddeus would say, skirting the meat of what ailed us both, but I continue talking about fear and our father’s drinking and how difficult it was for us as children, how our mother didn’t protect us, that we had no chance. Eventually Thaddeus raises his hand. I stop and look at him.

  ‘We’re all victims.’

  ‘Yes,’ I say.

  ‘But we are perpetrators too.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ve talked about how tough everything was for you both. How alcohol shaped your world and your perception of it.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But with respect it could be anyone’s childhood. I can think of a hundred, a thousand childhoods that have been like yours. I didn’t hear you in it. I didn’t see you or your sister. We need to be specific. And that takes guts…balls. But it’s a start. Ciara?’

  I see her shift in her seat as he addresses her, it’s the same adjustment of weight that she made whenever our father entered a room, and it spoke of readiness, of wariness.

  ‘I don’t know where to begin. I mean I know where to begin. But I don’t know if I can…’

  ‘It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re safe here,’ Thaddeus says.

  She looks at me and her eyes harden.

  ‘I hated you…So much of my life…I’ve loathed you…To me you were just the same as him…You looked the same…You even smelled the same…I know now that he did the same things to you…I know that now…But…’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘But you…You did it to me too…Didn’t you…Didn’t you?’

  I feel Thaddeus turn his head in my direction, but I ignore him, my eyes are locked on my sister and I am looking down the twin barrels of my past.

  ‘When I think of you…I see him…When I think of him…I see you…You were my older brother, you were supposed to look after me…To protect me…I know now that you were sick…That we both were…That we had no chance…But for a long time I wanted to kill you…When I was small…I thought that if one of you were dead the other would disappear…It’s stupid…For a long time…For a long time I wished you dead, Gabriel…’

  As she says this there is a catch in her voice and she closes her eyes for a second and nods to herself, as if she was listening to a voice that only she could hear.

  ‘All my life it has been Gabriel this and Gabriel that. Always you. Wha
t about me? Where did I go? Do you know what it’s like to be invisible, do you?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I mumble, but I know that it is pathetic and half-hearted.

  ‘I tried to get her to love me…Our mother…I thought that would be enough…That it would see me through…I became like her…I stole her prayers and made them my own…I said to myself she knows God and maybe if I can be like her He will forgive me…He will tell me that I wasn’t dirty…That I wasn’t full of shame…But…But all she could talk about was you…Oh how is my boy? He is so unhappy…He won’t let God into his heart…He is so unhappy…How can we make him happy? How can we place him in God’s grace, Ciara? What about me? What about me?’

  Her voice rises as she says this until she is shouting. Thaddeus leans forward and pulls a couple of tissues from the box on the table in front of him, and as he hands them to her he says: ‘Do you want to stop?’

  She shakes her head and looks at me once more.

  ‘All my life I’ve tried to make God see me…To tell Him that I was there…I’ve prayed so much…Do you know how much I’ve prayed? I’ve tried to live a good life…To be good. But how can someone be good when they hate so much? How?’

  ‘Is this the first time you’ve talked about this?’ Thaddeus asks her.

  She shakes her head and looks down at the floor.

  ‘My husband…Seamus…I’ve told him…’

  ‘When?’

  ‘On our wedding night…’

  ‘That must have been difficult.’

  ‘I had to say something. I wouldn’t let him touch me. I froze…’

  ‘Of course you did.’

  Then she looks at me, I see the years of hurt in her gaze, I see the loneliness and the pain.

  ‘Seamus believes that you abused our daughter. Did you?’

  I don’t say anything but look at her. I know what I’m doing; I’m buying myself some time by putting a hurt look on my face. The truth is that I can’t remember. I see her young body standing before me; I see the openness in her eyes as she looks at me. I hear my mind telling me to claim her, to make her mine.

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Thaddeus asks her.

  She doesn’t look at him as he asks this but keeps her eyes on me.

  ‘You babysat for us. Do you remember? Do you remember?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Go on,’ Thaddeus says.

  ‘When we came home…When we came home…You were out of it…Gone…And…’

  ‘Yes…Go on…’

  ‘Mary was asleep upstairs in her bed…She had different pyjamas on…Not the ones I’d put on…and…she was wet as if she had been sweating and there was an empty bottle of wine beside her bed…Did you? Did you?’

  ‘She had wet herself…I changed her…She asked me to…’

  ‘Did you…?’ she asks again.

  ‘I can’t remember…I swear to God I can’t remember.’

  ‘That’s very convenient…’

  ‘I would never…’

  ‘What, Gabriel? It was done to you. It was done to me. And you tried to do it to me. Until I stopped you.’

  ‘God help me, I would never ever…’

  ‘Seamus wants to kill you…I’ll tell you that straight…’

  ‘Have you asked her…Mary?’ Thaddeus says.

  ‘Yes of course.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘She said that he changed her and put her to bed…That’s all…’

  ‘Okay…’

  ‘But maybe she’s lying…We lied, didn’t we? We’ve lied our whole lives until now…’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘How can I believe you?’

  Thaddeus then says that time unearths everything, that I have been very sick and that if I did abuse her it will come to light and then appropriate steps would be taken. He looks at me as he says this. I shake my head and look down at the floor. My sister leans forward in her chair.

  ‘I was glad when you fell, Gabriel. Do you hear me? I was glad when you fell.’

  ‘Gabriel?’

  ‘Yes.’ My voice sounds feeble and weak.

  ‘Take a deep breath,’ Thaddeus says.

  ‘Yes.’

  I look at them both. I think of the ground that is moving towards me and of all the lives that have passed through mine.

  I feel the sting of her words, they echo across the clouds of my past. I feel moisture bathe my face. I can taste it on my tongue. Then I realise that I am crying and that my aloneness is almost at an end. I think of the room next to my heart where a small boy sits holding a butterfly, waiting for the light that will set him free. I think of every prisoner that I took, chaining them to my greed and my selfish heart. I see the little girl who for a while was the second part of me, the good part. I look at the woman she has become, the one who now faces me, asking me for the key to her childhood. She has her own fall.

  A Whisper Away

  I’m standing with Thaddeus. We are in the reception area. I have just said goodbye to my sister. Strangely she turned her head towards me as I went to kiss her on the cheek, so that our lips almost met. I paused, my mouth a whisper away from hers. I saw the look in her eyes, the fuck-you defiance and I pulled back and murmured goodbye to her and watched as she made her way to the waiting taxi outside. She didn’t look back at us, but lowered her head as the taxi reversed and pulled out of the driveway. I realise Thaddeus has been staring at me, watching every flicker of sadness on my face.

  ‘She sees him in you. At the moment for her there is no difference.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You were a child, Gabriel. She understands that. In the deep part of her she realises that you are not responsible. She wants someone to blame. He’s not here…So…’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Look at me.’

  I turn and see that he is closer to me than I thought he was, his green eyes searching mine.

  ‘Her child…’

  ‘Mary…’

  ‘Yes…That’s another story…’

  ‘I didn’t touch her…I remember wanting to…God forgive me…But I didn’t…I’m sure I didn’t…God…’

  ‘It’s tough, isn’t it…hanging on…Living life as if it’s a battle…Always in armour…’

  I nod. My body is trembling. People are moving past us on their way to their next session.

  ‘I believe you. I don’t think you did what your sister and your brother-in-law said you did. But you realise that I have to log it. And if…if – and I think that it’s a big if – something did go on that night, then you and I are going to have a very different conversation.’

  ‘Yes, I know. But…’

  ‘It is closed. This subject is closed. Your sister has spent her life hiding behind your illness. You’re an alcoholic. We’re obvious. We drink too much. We fall over. We wreck something. Other people are not so fortunate. They have their own fucked-up minds and hearts. But then they see someone like us and they think, he’ll do, he’ll take the heat from us. I can hide and point at this fella and say, my God look at him. He’s fucked. Thank God everyone’s looking at him and not me. I can just carry on fooling everyone. You see? As I said, the issue with your niece is closed. We must concentrate on you. This is a gift, Gabriel. This is the moment your whole life has been moving towards. Getting well is infectious. First you, then your sister. It moves like that. I will recommend Ciara talks to a colleague of mine and you and I will break this bastard that has held you back all your life.’

  He walks away out into the grounds of the hospital. I remember the first time I met him and I resented his fine clothes and what I thought was his self-regard. I know now that it was vigilance, that here was a man who knew the world for what it was, and that in order to get through the minefield of day-to-day life you had to be watchful, but at the same time lace everything you did with love. It takes me by surprise that I’m thinking about him like this, only days ago I wanted to stuff his fine words back into his mouth. I rea
lise that for the first time in my life another man has got through to me and I haven’t wondered what he wanted or whether at some point I would have to fight him for the little piece of ground that we both stood on.

  Cassie

  Her voice is hard and sharp like metal scraping a marble floor. Her eyes, though I recognise them, are wilder than before, and they have more white in them. Her hair is arranged differently, held up from her wide forehead with pins and ties. One of them has a large ladybird on it. I smile at her as she sits beside me, her large bulk once again causing the spars of the wooden bench to sag. This time her energy is more aggressive, more on the front foot than before and it makes me pull my head away from her.

  ‘Don’t be afraid,’ she says.

  ‘I’m not,’ I say.

  ‘You’re a pretty one,’ she continues. ‘A little worn out around the eyes and there’s nothing that a good feed wouldn’t fix. But a sexy wee fucker nonetheless.’

  ‘Right. Er…?’

  ‘Cassie.’

  ‘But I thought…’

  ‘Cassie.’

  This time she emphasises it by shoving her hand out and gestures that I should take it. I do, it’s warm and snug like the inside of a church at Christmas.

  ‘Gabriel. You know we’ve met,’ I say.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Yes, last week…’

  ‘No, son…Mistaken, son…Mistaken…I’ve just arrived in this Godforsaken hole…’

  ‘Come on…’ I say.

  ‘Come on where?’