Between the Cracks She Fell

by Lisa de Nikolits

  How’s this for an idea, I said. Let’s not even have dinner there. If the weather holds, let’s have a picnic in the park near the beach. That will be just as nice and we won’t have to worry.

  Ashley agreed and I could hear the relief in his voice.

  I’ll phone you once I’m back from the cottage, he said.

  We hung up, and I went to the vet and handed over all the money.

  For Samson, I said.

  We’ll need to keep him overnight. This money’s most likely more than is required, the myopic receptionist said. She was wearing her cats-and-dogs outfit again.

  You can give me back what’s left once the operation is done, how about that?

  The receptionist agreed, and I folded the receipt carefully and tucked it into my wallet.

  If I can’t come and get him for any reason, I said, then his owner will, Emma. The blonde girl who was with me when we brought him in. Will you make a note on his file?

  The receptionist nodded and entered something on the computer.

  I walked to the beach and saw Em coming towards me, her face puckered as if she might cry at any moment.

  There you are. She sounded angry. I’ve been so worried. What took so long?

  Lenny wanted to chat, and then Ashley called, and then I went to give the vet the money.

  Emma’s expression was a strange combination of relief and fury. I watched while she struggled to get hold of her emotions. Finally she spoke. No one has ever done all this for me. You amaze me. Listen, I am sorry I lost it about Officer Istanbul back there. I’ve just got so much on my mind.

  I hugged her, but she was stiff as a board. I could not understand why she was still so angry with me.

  I totally understand, I told her, while not really understanding, but brushing strands of hair away from her face anyway. Everything is going to be okay. Well, at least Sam is going to be okay and that’s the most important thing, isn’t it?

  The most important thing, Em echoed. Listen I have to run an errand now. Can I meet up with you later?

  Yes. Ash and I thought the three of us might have a picnic down here later, if you like? Around eight or nine, I guess? If the weather holds, which it looks like it will.

  Sounds good, I’ll meet you back here later.

  She set off at a brisk pace. I was left staring after her, wondering what was so urgent and why I couldn’t have gone with her. She usually wanted me to go with her.

  Something seemed so out of character about the whole thing, that I suddenly decided to follow her.

  40. THE DIVORCE

  I EASED IN BEHIND EMMA AS SHE HURRIED down the street. It wasn’t hard to wind along in her slipstream.

  I followed her down a couple of side roads till she stopped outside the manicured gardens of a church. A church? Em?

  I sidled into a bus shelter alongside the church grounds and watched Em go into the church. I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I try to follow her inside? I was about to creep around to the main door, but just then Em came running out of the church, screaming.

  I won’t talk inside there. I won’t!

  A priest followed her, his hands raised in supplication. We’ll all go over to the picnic table over there, how’s that? His accent was strongly Irish.

  Em looked at him and agreed.

  I was well-hidden from them by a large hedge, wedged between the picnic table and the bus shelter.

  The priest was followed by a good-looking man who was holding two small children by the hand — a boy of about two and a girl who must have been about four. An elderly woman trailed behind them. She looked like she was a relative of the man’s, and she was clearly furious. Her mouth was pursed and her arms crossed.

  There’s no point, Mike, she said, and I could hear her clearly. She’s a sociopathic bitch. She always has been, she always will be.

  Mom, don’t say that, not in front of the kids. Tammy, come on, honey. Let’s talk about this.

  I saw Emma raise her head from the picnic table. Tammy? I thought, Tammy?

  I don’t know why you had to try to find me, she said. I wanted to be left alone.

  You’re their mother, Tammy. You’re just tired, that’s all. You just need a rest. Come on, come on home.

  I am not fucking tired, Emma or Tammy or whoever she was, screamed. I hate my fucking life with you, don’t you get it? It’s killing me. You kill me. They kill me.

  That’s it. I’m taking the kids for ice cream, Mike’s mother said. She hitched the little boy up to her hip and grabbed the little girl’s hand. You want ice cream, Andy? Michelle? You want some ice cream?

  No! I want my mommy! Michelle yelled and she rushed towards Emma.

  Now look what you’ve fucking gone and done, Emmy said in a vicious tone to Mike.

  Come to Mama, baby, she said to the little girl, and her tone was unrecognizably sweet and kind. She picked up the little girl who clung to her.

  Listen, sweetie, Mama needs to talk to Daddy, okay? You go with Nana now for some ice cream, okay? And then later, Mama will brush your hair, and we’ll make necklaces, and I’ll paint your nails, okay? Will you be a good girl and go with Nana now?

  Michelle snuffled and nodded, still clinging tight to Emma who held her and patted her back.

  Mama’s got to talk to daddy, okay? You go with Nana now, mama will see you later, I promise.

  She handed the little girl to the woman who glared at her.

  Come on, Shelly. We’ll get you vanilla and strawberry, your favourite, how’s that?

  I watched the woman walk away with the two children, and my heart broke. They were so tiny, so perfect, so beautiful. And so unbelievably innocent.

  Come now, Tammy, the priest said. That’s your flesh and blood there. You can’t abandon them now, can you? You took a sacrament to love and look after them. You gave birth to them. You can’t abandon them.

  I made a mistake, Emma said. I made a mistake thinking I could be a mom and a wife. And I tried, God knows I tried. I cooked. I cleaned. I did all the stuff I was supposed to, and one day it came to me. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.

  You can’t just say that, Mike said. Imagine if every mother in the world did that. Just said, well, I tried, but this isn’t for me, goodbye. What then?

  If they did, then we’d rethink the way we did things and the world might be a better place. Emma was implacable. I told you I didn’t think I could do this, Mike, I did. Right from the beginning. But you had your picture-postcard life all mapped out. All you had to do was cut along the dotted lines and insert me into the family photograph. I told you I never wanted kids, but you said I’d be a great mom.

  And you were, Mike said. You are.

  But I hate it. I hate it. I can’t do it, I won’t. Those stupid conversations with the other mothers and the teachers and all of them. Family dinners where everybody wants to know the latest poo development or eating wonder, and I don’t give a shit. Don’t you get it, Mike? I don’t give a shit.

  So you ran off, stealing Anita’s car and living off my credit card? You took nearly two thousand dollars out in cash. You thought that was okay, to steal from me like that?

  I didn’t steal anything. Anita’s car is a lemon, and you owe me, Mike. You owe me for four years of hard labour. I did what you wanted. You wanted me to be the perfect mommy and the perfect wife and I was. A couple of hundred dollars and your sister’s shitty car is hardly me living it up at the Hilton. I’ll figure it all out, and get back on my feet. I gave up my career for you….

  You were a receptionist at a hotel, Mike interrupted bitterly.

  And one day I could have become the manager. I studied hotel management, I had big dreams.

  But you made a commitment to your husband, the priest interjected. To your husband and your little ones. What is joined by God, let no man put asunder.
>
  Emma gave a laugh. I can sunder it anytime I want to, buster. And sundering it, I am. Divorce me, Mike, for abandonment. I’m telling you, I can’t do that life, and I won’t. You’re a great guy, they’re great kids, some lonely mommy-wanna-be will come rolling along, fluttering her eyelashes at you. You can get married again and live the life you always wanted, but with someone who actually wants it too.

  Her tone turned softer.

  Truly, Mikey, you’ve got to let me go, honey. Please. I am sorry I couldn’t hack it. I am. But if you make me come home, I’ll just run away again, and you’ll never find me. You can tell the kids their mommy loved them, she really did, but she just had a screw loose. It wasn’t her fault, or theirs. You can tell them anything you like, you can tell them I died if you want to. Whatever you need.

  But it is your fault, you bitch, Mike said, but there was no energy behind his words. That’s no excuse: I am what I am, so world, live with it.

  It’s not an excuse, it’s a reason. There’s a difference. And I tried to tell you who I was but you wouldn’t listen. And then the world you offered me sounded so tempting, and for a moment I thought I could do it. For a while it was nice, playing house. But when Shelly was born, I felt so trapped. I’d lie awake at night thinking of how I could escape. Then we had Andy, and I loved him the most if you must know, and I nearly made a go of it for him, but then I couldn’t. And then that day, when Anita came over and I said we were out of milk and I needed to borrow her car since mine was in the shop, and that I’d just be a moment and I’d take Sammy with me, and could she look after the kids, well, I never planned to run off that day. If I had of planned it, don’t you think I would have packed better clothes, taken my toothbrush, my jewellery? I didn’t plan a thing. I went to get the milk and when I got back in the car with the carton, I turned on the engine and I drove. But I didn’t drive home. I drove and drove and ended up here and I’ve been here ever since, living with Sammy. Who, by the way, is very sick not that you’d care about that. You never gave a damn about the dog. He’s at the vet right now, not that you’d care. And by the way, thanks for cutting off the credit card. Nice one that, Mikey. Nice one.

  She paused for breath and took a shuddering inhale.

  Tammy, you disappeared, you stole two thousand dollars, what did you think, that I’d fund you forever? I was hoping you just needed some time and that you’d come home soon. I knew where you were because of the GPS on your phone and, of course, they found Anita’s car even though you changed the plates. I gave you time and I let you use the credit card, but then when I realized you weren’t coming home, I cut off the card and texted you to meet up. I hoped that if you saw the kids you’d change your mind and change this crazy course of action.

  I am not changing this course of action, she said. Crazy or not. So what now? I don’t have any money. You’ve got to give me some money, Mike. You owe me.

  Owe you? My mother’s right, you are a sociopath. And why should I give you any money? How do I know you won’t do this the rest of my life? Show up and demand money because I owe you. God knows what you think these four years will ending up costing me. I already got you the house you wanted, the car, the décor, the at-home-fitness gym, a new kitchen, a landscaped backyard. Don’t you think I’ve spent enough on you already?

  It’ll all add value to the house, Emma was airy. Let’s say seven thousand dollars, and we’ll call it even.

  You don’t have to pay her anything, Mike, the priest said.

  I do, Mike said. I do. But Tammy, I’m not going to agree to anything here, at a picnic table while my kids eat ice cream down the street from their mother who doesn’t want them. I’ll set you free and give you some money, but on my terms, and all legal and neat. But what if you disappear before I get the papers drawn up? Then what? How will I find you? Or will I have to sit around and wait for you to get in touch with me at your leisure?

  I can’t disappear. I can’t afford to and if you think I have any leisure, you are very confused. You’re holding me over a barrel, Mike. Fine, here’s the deal. First, tell Anita to call the cops and tell them she made a mistake, that her car wasn’t stolen. Second, give me a couple of hundred to see me over the next few weeks. There’s an ATM around the corner. You can give me some cash and I promise to hang around here for two weeks, if not in this godforsaken town, then nearby at least. Get all the papers done in two weeks and I’ll meet you back here, exactly here, in two weeks, as God is my witness.

  Your word doesn’t hold a lot of sway with God, Mike said, getting to his feet. Come on Tammy, let’s find that bank machine. Father, thank you for your help.

  Your useless help, Emma said. You don’t understand a thing Mr. Priest.

  No need to be rude, Tammy, Mike said.

  Shut the fuck up, Mike. You can’t tell me what to think, or say or do anymore, thank Christ.

  Is it really necessary to blaspheme too? You’re getting what you wanted, so you can pretend to be nice. I can’t believe I didn’t see the truth about you all this time.

  Your not being able to see what’s at the end of your face isn’t my problem, Mike. By the way, I want all my clothes. And my jewellery and my make up.

  You don’t have a U-Haul big enough for all your crap, Tammy. But whatever. If you think I want your shit, you’re dead wrong.

  I heard them bickering their way down the street. As soon as they were out of sight, I jogged back the way I had come.

  Emma. Tammy.

  I needed to be alone.

  When Ash called me, I was sitting under the oak tree outside the admin building.

  Honey, I don’t think I can make it tonight, he said and I was relieved. Rob’s back and he wants me to make dinner for him. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll phone you as soon as I can.

  Sure, I said. That’ll be great, Ash. Take care.

  Joss? You okay?

  Yeah, sure, just tired, that’s all. Everything is fine. I might be coming down with something. I just need to rest. Don’t worry.

  I do worry, Ash said. Well, I’d better go, I’ve got a menu to plan. Apparently Rob is bringing some of his friends home too. Sigh. Oh well! Later!

  I rang off and turned the phone off to save the battery.

  I was filthy from the heat, from following Emma, and from my jog back home. I wished I was at the swimming pool, but Lenny might be there or I might bump into Emma.

  I got up and walked to the gas station close to the school. I bought a couple of blessedly cold drinks, a popsicle, wet wipes and a bag of ice. I repeated my trick of filling a plastic bag with ice and putting it on my head, loving the dripping water that ran down my face.

  Robert Frances Weston. Barbara Jane/Kitty Cat. Emma/Tammy. Lenny. Lenny, I know where you live. So bring it on, bring it on, Lenny. Come and find me and let’s see what happens next.

  I felt sick.

  Gibreel: the dreamer, whose point of view is sometimes that of the camera and at other moments, spectator. When he’s a camera, the pee oh vee is always on the move, he hates static shots, so he’s floating up on a high crane looking down…. He watches and weighs up the action like any movie fan.

  I was like Gibreel. Watching, weighing up the action. And this:

  Falling like that out of the sky: did they imagine there would be no side-effects?

  And another thing, let’s be clear: great falls change people. You think they fell a long way? …Mutations are to be expected, not all of them random.… Not much of a price to pay for survival, for being reborn, for becoming new, and at their age at that.

  Of course there were side effects. Mutations were to be expected. Not much of a price to pay. But remember:

  Not all mutants survive.

  41. THE RESURRECTION

  THE NEXT DAY, THERE WAS A NEW complication. Jesus arrived to save us all.

  I went into Tim’s for breakfast. I didn’t care if
I bumped into Lenny or Emma. They had both done their worst, and I had had it with them.

  I ordered oatmeal with brown sugar and I had just dipped my spoon in the swirly mass when a figure sidled into my booth.

  Male, yes, but too big to be Lenny, and too soft, and besides, this guy had a different kind of energy.

  Shayne.

  Hiya Joss. He grinned at me, like he had no problem turning up again, all bouncy and happy like he hadn’t left me in the lurch of all lurches.

  I put down my spoon. Shayne. I would say it was nice to see you, but it isn’t. Really, it isn’t.

  He looked good, I would give him that. Sexy and fresh-faced.

  He grinned. It was a tough thing all round, he agreed. But Joss, it was God’s will, I see that now. If I hadn’t left, I’d never have gone to rehab, and that’s where I met Father Jacob who turned my life around. He helped me open my heart to God and Jesus. Now I see my true purpose in this world. It’s not to please you or my folks or Caroline. It’s to do God’s Will, as it is channeled through me by the voice of Jesus who comes to me by the grace of the Holy Spirit.

  Wow, I thought but did not say. Okay.

  So you are here today to achieve what? I asked.

  Forgiveness. I let you down. It was God’s will that I did, but I know it hurt. Can you forgive me, Joss?

  It’d be easier if you’d turned up on a Harley, saying you’d won the lottery and were giving me half, I said.

  Joss, don’t be flippant. This is serious. I know it’s a lot to take in, but don’t mock me or my religion.That’s all I ask.

  How are your family taking this new you?

  He shook his head. They are struggling. Dad keeps trying to tell me it’s God’s will that I become a doctor, but I just don’t hear Jesus saying that. Right now I don’t know what my actual day job is. I am waiting to hear.

  God’s going to call you up and say, Hey Shayne, I found your resumé in heaven and it says you were a house painter so stick with it, buddy?

  Joss, he scolded me. Stop it. Jesus will tell me. All in God’s time. Then he grinned. Cool that I found you, hey?