The Nearly Girl

by Lisa de Nikolits

  She nodded dreamily, loving the feel of his hands on her, and disappointed when he stopped. She was sure there was something going on between them. Sure, he was attentive to all the ladies at the gym, sure, he flirted with everyone, and he even batted his eyelashes at the boys, but she was sure there was something real between the two of them.

  “Here is your midway picture,” he said, putting a photo of Megan up next to her ‘before’. “You think this should be your ‘after’ but once we have made more progress, you will be very happy that I didn’t let you stop here.”

  “Okay, Emilio,” she said. “But I’ll tell you this for free. I’m starving.”

  “We will fix that.” He leaned over the counter and looked at her. “We’ll let Charles handle the front desk for half an hour and you and I will go and get a juice from that new takeout place. My treat.”

  She smiled at him. A date, she thought, and she shot to her feet. “Just don’t get me one of those disgusting green ones,” she said.

  “Okay, but don’t think you are getting anything with banana,” he said, closing the gym door behind them. “You know the drill.”

  “Calories, calories,” Megan grinned. “I know.” She was proud to be walking next to him. He was tall and muscular, dark-skinned and handsome. She hoped that people would think they were a couple and she leaned into him slightly and tried to match his stride.

  “Megan!” She heard a voice call her name and she swung around, confused.

  “That guy over there,” Emilio said. “The one with the baby. Do you know him?”

  “Hi Megan! We thought we’d come and see where you work!”

  “He’s my husband,” Megan said, her heart falling with a thud to her feet. “And that’s my daughter.”

  She stood where she was and let Henry and Amelia approach her. Amelia was waving her little hands in delight and cooing.

  “I’m Emilio,” Emilio said when it was clear that Megan wasn’t going to introduce them. He held out his hand and Henry shook it. “I own the gym where Megan works.”

  “I’m Henry, her husband, and this is Amelia.” Henry unstrapped Amelia and lifted her out of the stroller. “Say hi to Mama.” But Amelia wrapped her arms around Henry’s neck and buried her face in his neck.

  “Daddy’s girl,” Megan said bitterly.

  “We’re going to get a juice,” Emilio said. “You want to come along?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Henry said. “I’ll give Amelia her bottle. ”

  “What do you do for a living?” Emilio asked once they had their juices and were sitting at a table.

  “Nothing much,” Henry apologized. “I was a poet and then I was sick for a while, and now I’m a house-husband and a father.”

  “Both are good things,” Emilio said. “Being a father is a very good thing. I hope to have lots of children one day. You are very good with her,” he observed.

  “She’s my angel,” Henry said, and it was all Megan could do to stop from rolling her eyes.

  “And how long have you been together?” Emilio asked.

  Henry and Megan looked at one another. “Wow,” Henry said. “I can’t remember. I guess it is about two years now?”

  Megan shrugged and shook her head and Emilio laughed. “You guys are funny,” he said. “Most couples know to the hour how long they’ve been together. They remember what the moon was doing the night they met and what song was playing.”

  “We’re not exactly like most couples,” Megan said pointedly.

  “That’s what makes us special,” Henry said, missing her sarcasm or choosing to ignore it. He picked up Amelia and burped her. “Megan is looking great,” he said to Emilio. “And she’s happier too.”

  “I’m right here, thank you very much,” Megan said. “You can address me.”

  “I was trying to give you a compliment,” Henry said mildly and he stood up. “Say bye-bye to Mama,” he said to Amelia and he waved her little hand. “We will go home and see what Nana is up to. Nice to meet you, Emilio.”

  “You too,” Emilio said, and he and Megan watched Henry amble off, chatting to Amelia, and pushing the stroller.

  After they left, there was an awkward silence between Emilio and Megan.

  “We’d better get back,” he said and she shot to her feet.

  “Yeah, I want to try the jazzercize class,” she said and then she blushed. “Not that I can dance, mind you, but it sounds like fun.”

  “Everybody can dance,” Emilio said distantly and she was certain that things had changed between them and whatever chance there might have been for romance had vanished.

  But Megan, walking next to him, decided that the war wasn’t lost. She would do what she had to do and in the end she’d get what she wanted. And she had decided that she wanted Emilio.

  Amelia’s first birthday party was a perfect. It was bleak January day and they held the party in a small community hall. Even Megan had a good time and she basked in the glowing admiration of the other mothers that Henry had befriended in the parks and playgroups. For a disorganized, unscheduled fellow, Henry was a picture postcard father. He diligently took the meds that Ed handed him, and he stuck to the schedule Ethel made for him, and he consulted his wristwatch as if it was an oracle of wisdom that he didn’t understand but feared and respected nonetheless.

  “Family photo,” Ed said, adjusting the self-timer on the camera. “Everybody say ‘cheese.’”

  The group shouted at the camera and grinned and the perfect moment was snapped and captured in space and time, and Ed allowed himself to relax just that little bit.

  It wasn’t four months later that the same group assembled, but this time it was minus one. They’d lost Ed. He’d been hit by a drunk driver and killed instantly.

  Ethel was numb with pain, utterly still and quiet. Megan was confused and bewildered. Her father wasn’t supposed to die. She kept expecting him to come home.

  And Henry was panic-stricken. “Mom,” he said. “I am sorry Mom, but I can’t remember what medications Dad gave me. I just took them. I never paid attention to what they were.”

  “It’s okay, Henry,” Ethel said. “Ed would have written it down. We simply have to find out where.”

  While Ethel searched for the book, Henry fidgeted nervously. “I am worried,” he said. “I’m afraid I won’t be okay without Dad. I’m scared.”

  “So am I,” Ethel wanted to say. She wanted to tell Henry to get a grip, that she was scared too. She wanted to tell him to be a man, for god’s sake. But the rational Ethel knew that was neither possible nor fair.

  “It’ll be okay, Henry,” she said gently, looking up from Ed’s bedside table. “Look here, see? It’s all written down. That’s Ed for you.” Two tears rolled down her cheeks and she didn’t seem to notice. “I’ll buy you those pill boxes that are broken down by the day and we’ll add it to the schedule and you’ll be fine.”

  She took Henry’s hand. “Don’t worry, Henry,” she said. “Have you taken your meds this morning?”

  He shook his head. “Not since Dad died.”

  “Three days,” Ethel said, concerned. “I’m sorry Henry, I should have thought of this. How are you doing?”

  “Not great,” he said. “Not great. But I didn’t want to say.”

  Ethel looked at him and she realized that he was shaking, that his whole body was shuddering.

  She rushed to the washroom and shook out his pills and filled a glass with water. “Take these and lie down for a bit, I’ll look after Amelia.”

  He swallowed the pills and closed his eyes in relief. “Yes, I think I will lie down for a bit,” he said. “I’ll wait for the noise to stop. I have been very dizzy too.”

  “I’m so sorry, Henry.” Ethel stroked his forehead and he relaxed under her touch.

  She tucked him into his bed. His breathing was shallow and he wa
s pale and clammy to the touch. Poor fragile boy, she thought and she smoothed his blanket and left, quietly closing the door.

  “Where’s Henry?” Megan demanded when her mother got downstairs. “Amelia needs her bottle.”

  “Then I suggest you give it to her,” Ethel said, her voice brokering no argument.

  “But where’s Henry?”

  “Henry isn’t well. I forgot about his meds and so did you.” Ethel turned to face her daughter.

  “Not my responsibility,” Megan shrugged and her mother grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

  Megan’s eyes widened. “Get off me, Mom, what are you doing?”

  “Trying to shake some sense into you,” Ethel said. “Sit down, Megan. I’ve got something to say to you.”

  “But Amelia will wake up soon and she’ll cry and you know how I hate that.”

  “Sit down.”

  Megan sat down at the kitchen table.

  “I know you were young when it happened, but you got pregnant. You met Henry and decided he was the one and you wanted to marry him. Do you hear me, Megan? YOU. Not me, or Dad or even Henry. YOU made all this happen and now you shrug and say it’s not my responsibility? It’s time you stepped up, young lady, and took responsibility for the things you’ve done.”

  Megan eyed her mother and shook a cigarette out a pack. She’d taken up smoking again to help keep her weight down. She lit the cigarette and exhaled.

  “I’m going the best I can,” she said. “I am.”

  “And it’s not good enough,” Ethel said, and then she thought that was nothing that Ed would have said.

  She sat down. “The point is, Meggie, we have to pull together, even harder now that your Dad’s gone. Henry certainly can’t help himself and neither can little Amelia. So we have to, do you see?”

  Megan nodded but her mother could see that she wasn’t listening at all.

  “I’ll make Amelia’s bottle,” Ethel said, getting up.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Megan said, inhaling deeply. “You are the best, you know.”

  Upstairs, Henry was terrified. He had fallen asleep under Ethel’s soothing caress but then he woke in horror and fright. The room was contracting and expanding and growing dark and light with each expansion and contraction. The room was breathing and he was caught in its lungs and there was nothing he could do. Shadows fell in ominous shapes and drew back, claw-fingered and cackling, and then a strobe light began to whirl, blinding him and making him feel sick. He closed his eyes but the voices started shouting at him, choruses of accusing verses, overlapping and scratching.

  Henry rolled over and stuffed his fingers into his ears.

  “You are not real,” he whispered. “None of you. You are not real. I am real. You are not real.”

  He was drenched in sweat and shaking. “I missed my medication. It’s just that I missed my medications. I will be okay. Dad? Dad, where are you? Dad, talk to me, please Dad, talk to me”.

  But if Ed was there among the voices, there were too many others drowning him out.

  “Oh god,” Henry said despairingly, burying his face in the pillow. “Oh god.”

  Without Ed, Henry lost faith in his medication. The meds had seemed different when they were handed out by Ed. They came with the promise of wellness and good things, couriered by Ed’s faith in both the pills and Henry. Without Ed, the pills were just tiny objects without efficacy or potency.

  Henry continued to take them at the designated hour, in the Ed-designated dose, but his demons returned. The world wavered and became insubstantial. He heard things that weren’t there and he couldn’t hear the things that were.

  He could hear the shouting words, but he couldn’t hear Amelia crying. He could hear his heart beating like a bomb about to explode, but he couldn’t hear Ethel, even though he could see her concern before his very eyes.

  “Henry! Henry!”

  But he was inaccessible and remote, locked in his prison of noise and shifting chaos and he covered his ears with his hands.

  Ethel reached for the crying baby and jiggled her on her hip. She couldn’t understand what was wrong with Henry. She had watched him take his meds and she had double-checked the dose but something had changed and she didn’t know what it was. She fed Amelia her bottle and sought refuge by talking to Ed in her head. “Ed? What’s going on with Henry?”

  He’s lost faith. He’s lost his sense of all rightness.

  “Can I help him?”

  I don’t think so, Eth. I don’t think so. You’ll have to take care of Amelia now.

  “Great.”

  “I had the best day!” Megan exclaimed when she got home. “Mom, Emilio’s going to send me for training to be a personal trainer! He says I can do it, he says I’ve got an innate understanding of physiology and that I’ve shown the necessary determination and fortitude. Isn’t that wonderful? I’m so excited.”

  “It is wonderful, dear,” Ethel said and she meant it. “I’m very happy for you.” She burped Amelia, patting her warm little back.

  “Are you okay, Mom? Why are you looking after Amelia again?”

  “Henry’s not well,” Ethel said. “He’s taking his meds but they’re not working.”

  “We’ll take him back to Dr. Shiner, then.” Megan was firm but Ethel shook her head.

  “Dr. Shiner was useless. It was your dad who helped Henry. Shiner deadened him to life.”

  “But there has to be something we can do?” Megan sat down at the table. “Here, give her to me.”

  Ethel handed the baby over and Amelia started crying and Megan sat her down on the kitchen table in front of her.

  “Amelia?” Megan began. “I need you to listen to me. I am your mother. Granted, I haven’t been such a good one but still, I am who I am. Now, stop crying. Your father’s not well and you have to be nice to me so I can help Nana take care of you. Do you understand?”

  Amazingly enough, Amelia stopped crying and Ethel gave a shaky laugh. “She really is something special,” she said. “I’m going to make us some supper. You okay with grilled salmon and salad?”

  “That’d be lovely. I’m going to check on Henry. Come on, baby, we’re going to see what’s up with Daddy.”

  The sight that greeted her was not hopeful. Henry was naked, and crouched on the floor, scribbling on sheets of paper.

  “Henry? What are you doing?”

  He looked up, wild-eyed. “They’re back. The muse of many voices is back. I have to get them out of my head or I will go crazy. I must get them out now. There are too many voices.”

  “Henry, you’re not well,” Megan said. “Let me take you to the hospital. You don’t have to go back to Shiner, I’ll take you somewhere else.”

  “No! Leave me alone. I’m fine. Just leave me alone. Give me a couple of days, okay? I need some time, that’s all.”

  “Don’t you want to give Amelia her supper? You love giving her supper.”

  Henry’s face was a blank. “What are you talking about?” He went back to his papers without a further glance at her or Amelia.

  “Yeah, not good,” Megan agreed with her mother when she went downstairs. “I said we should take him to hospital, not to Shiner, but he ignored me.”

  Her mother looked up from the salad she was chopping. “We can’t make him go. Maybe it will work its way out of his system.”

  But they both knew better.

  Henry soon regressed to the point where he wasn’t eating and he wasn’t sleeping. All he did was pace and scribble and tack pages onto the walls, pages that, when Megan tried to read them, made no sense.

  “They’re not even words,” she said to her mother. “I never understood his poems before but they were real words and real sentences. Now it’s just a bunch of nonsense. I worry about you being home alone with him all day.”

  “He’s fine, dea
r. I don’t think he’d hurt a fly.” Ethel was convinced. “But this can’t end well. I might have to call Shiner and get him to come here.”

  “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea,” Megan said.

  Amelia seemed to understand that something was going on and she was quietly obliging and well-behaved. However, Ethel had noticed things about Amelia that she had not yet mentioned to Megan, for fear of worrying her. Ethel was trying to pretend that there was nothing wrong with her granddaughter and she told herself that she was imagining things.

  Luckily for Henry, Dr. Shiner was no longer with the hospital. He had been replaced by Dr. Margolin, who came to the house and consulted with Henry.

  “I’m changing his prescription,” Dr. Margolin told Ethel and Megan. “I don’t believe in the chemical crapshoot that Dr. Shiner was loading into Henry’s system. Let’s try something different and see. I prefer to start with a small dose and then increase as needed, so it may be a bit of time before we see an improvement.”

  “Thank you for coming,” Ethel said. “We couldn’t get him to come to the hospital.”

  “Anytime,” Dr. Margolin told her. “I’ve read his poetry. We need take care of this man.”

  It was June, the start of summer, and somehow they carried on, managing to muddle into the fall and trudge through a sad Christmas. Then it was time for Amelia’s second birthday party and by then, Ethel knew for sure what she had suspected. All was not well with Amelia.

  5. AMELIA

  AMELIA NEARLY GOT THINGS RIGHT, but she also got them completely wrong. Ethel had seen the warning signs for a while and she had hoped that it was a passing phase and that Amelia would grow out of it. But instead, she got worse. Ethel’s suspicions were confirmed when Amelia insisted on having her second birthday party outdoors in the freezing January rain. She insisted, despite the wails and protests of the other children, protests that were echoed by their horrified parents who quickly left the party when it became apparent that Amelia was not going to change her mind.