by PJ Nakfoor
“I’ve never fallen to the ground and completely passed out before. Why am I getting worse?” I could feel and hear myself escalating again.
His voice remained smooth as satin and conveyed no disappointment or judgement.
“First, Vivian, do you understand why you fainted?”
“It has something to do with breathing too fast, but that’s about all I know.”
“Understanding the medical reason may help. I believe knowledge is power. When you hyperventilate, your body gets rid of carbon dioxide from your lungs too quickly. This alters the electrolyte balance in your bloodstream. When the carbon dioxide gets very low, you can suffer numbness, tingling, chest pain, fainting, or even a seizure. If you faint or have a seizure, your body will reset your breathing and restore the chemical balance in your blood. It’s a protective mechanism. The episode is always temporary.”
Listening to his calm and measured explanation allowed my shame to evaporate.
“Does this mean I have to start with step one again?”
“No. Progress cannot be erased. The best way to move forward is to do step seven again when you are ready.”
“What if I never feel ready?” I asked.
“You will, Vivian, and very soon.”
Although I didn’t believe in myself at times, I believed in Dr. Buhari.
* * *
Carl decided to take the following Saturday off, offering to work two extra Saturdays as a trade. What boss would turn down that offer? I loved that quality in Carl—a good deed received was double that in return.
The week flew by, and I started each morning with a prayer, asking for whatever guidance I needed. Fortunately, the weather was beautiful, so I spent time tending to my flowers, taking walks, reading and cooking. If my mind jumped ahead to Saturday, I stopped whatever I was doing and spent thirty seconds seeing, touching, hearing, smelling and feeling anything in my surroundings. I’d read that using all five senses in a mindful way can help push away intrusive thoughts. Amazing.
* * *
Saturday came. I had breakfast, showered, and threw an inspirational book into my overnight bag, which I had left packed. Carl and I kissed Faith goodbye and she said, “Mom, today it’s two steps forward. Period.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” I said. “I’m going to repeat that sentence to myself all the way to the station.”
This time, there were no brown paper bags, staring crowds or ambulances. We boarded the train and four hours later, we arrived at Union Station. Anytime I felt the least bit anxious, I did my “five senses” activity or repeated Faith’s message.
I hadn’t been to Chicago in years and the city was bustling. We walked the three blocks to our boutique hotel and received a warm welcome. We were handed tall glasses of cold water flavored with cucumbers and mint leaves and a small box of shortbread cookies. The adorable lobby was decorated like a 1920’s speakeasy with fringed lamps, velveteen loveseats and dimly-lit corners. I looked at the brochures the receptionist had given me along with our keys. The Shedd Aquarium! I had read an article about it in the Chicago magazine and the photos were spectacular. I remember feeling like I was there.
“Carl, can we take an Uber to the aquarium?” I held up the brochure.
“Good idea. Let’s get to our room and settle in first.”
I felt relief and pride about making it to Chicago without incident. It was going to be an incredible twenty-four hours.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
1996
Shane pulled his 1989 Toyota Corolla into the driveway after picking Vivi up from school.
“In case you didn’t notice, I almost gagged when I got into your car. It reeks of pot,” Vivi said, as she slammed her car door closed.
“Whatever,” he said.
They went inside to find Nana and Papa reading in the living room.
“Hi N, Hi P,” Shane said quickly and headed toward his room in the basement. He had moved out of his boyhood bedroom upstairs and modestly remodeled and decorated the basement. It worked well for everyone, as the house seemed to get smaller as they grew older.
“Shane, come here. We haven’t seen you much lately. We want to hear about your class,” said Nana.
He backtracked and poked his head into the living room.
“Nothing much to say—class was fine, I guess. I’m heading out in a few to meet Gregg and Juwan. We have a group project to finish.”
“Wait a minute,” said Nana, sniffing deeply. “I smell marijuana. Shane, we told you that’s not allowed in our home, and definitely not while you’re driving.”
Vivi gave Shane an, I told you so smirk.
Papa looked up from the paper and peered at Shane from over his reading glasses.
“You know our rules, young man. You can live on your own if you can’t follow them. Your grandmother and I are paying for college, and we expect appreciation and respect. Do you want to start taking urine tests every month?”
Vivi knew it was a standby threat, and nothing ever came of it.
“I wasn’t smoking. It’s on my jean jacket from a party last weekend. A bunch of idiots were passing around joints. I don’t use it anymore, I promise,” he said as he hustled downstairs.
He was so full of shit, thought Vivi. She was concerned about Shane. He was spending more and more time in his room or out with friends. She knew he had started smoking marijuana in high school like a lot of kids, but she suspected it had become a daily habit. He had always been introverted, but recently had become withdrawn. She was going to talk with him about it right now while she had the courage.
“Shane?” Vivi asked, as she knocked on his bedroom door. “Can I talk to you?”
He opened the door and the pungent odor nearly shoved her backwards.
“Sorry, it’s a mess. What’s up?” He motioned for her to sit down on the bed.
“Just wondering how things are going. We haven’t talked in a while.”
“Oh, pretty good I guess.” He looked at Vivi expectantly.
Then, several seconds of awkward silence.
“Umm,” she stammered. “I’m just going to say it. I’m worried about how much pot you’re smoking.”
“I’m fine.” He started flipping absently through a book.
“I saw a letter that you left out when I brought some laundry down. It said you’re on academic probation. You used to be such a good student.”
His face reddened and he started to argue, but then the angry expression softened, and his head dropped into his hands. Vivi sat quietly and after a few moments he looked up at the ceiling, appearing to search for his response.
“Honestly, Vivi, I’ve been waiting for this conversation. I know I should give up smoking. Since I was little, there have been times when I obsess about the past and for some reason, it’s gotten worse as I got older. Pot used to help blur the awful images that I couldn’t seem to get out of my brain. But this last year it’s made me numb and paranoid.”
“What images?” she asked.
“Mom and Dad’s accident and how horrible their bodies must have looked afterward. The day at the fair seeing that family, bloody and moaning. Worst of all, what might have happened to you if the police hadn’t caught those scumbags. I imagine…” He stopped himself and grimaced. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to be reminded about all the nasty memories.”
Shane had never talked to her about the images. She suffered them too, never guessing that he was tormented as well. Right now, her compassion for Shane outweighed her own sorrow.
“But those things didn’t happen to me—I’m here and I’m okay. Maybe you should see a counselor. I know Nana wanted you to do that years ago.”
Shane sighed. “Maybe.” He wasn’t convincing, she thought.
Vivi stood and gave him a big hug.
“I’ll help any way I can. Love ya, brother.”
“Love you, Sis.”
* * *
Prom night had arrived. Vivi had begged Nana and Papa to let the
group take photos at their home before dinner at a nearby restaurant. Nana finally relented.
There were four girls and three boys in the group—and one of the boys was Jesse Magill. Of course, it was Bethany who befriended him first, and now Vivi couldn’t believe he was coming to her house!
Vivi wore her shoulder-length hair pinned up, with some wavy strands framing her face. She had spent hours practicing over the past week. She put on minimal makeup—a few strokes of dusky blush, a light layer of mascara and a gentle application of rose gold lipstick. She slipped into her coveted dress and a pair of high-heeled strappy sandals. With one last glance in the mirror, Vivi reveled in her newfound confidence.
Papa whistled when she came down the stairs.
“Can I have your autograph?” he teased, and Vivi giggled.
“Get your camera ready—they should be here in a few minutes,” she said.
Within fifteen minutes Vivi heard some car doors slam, and she saw Astrid, Bethany and Sandra, a newer friend of theirs, exit one and the boys get out of the other. Vivi introduced them to Nana and Papa after the initial commotion settled down. Astrid wore a baby blue gown with a sequined bodice and Bethany, a Kelly-green silk tank top tucked into a full-length pleated black skirt. The outfit was completed by matching green high heels and a clutch. Only Bethany could bring the ensemble together in a way that made sense.
Vivi’s eyes popped when she saw Jesse in a black tux and a gray and black paisley bow tie and cummerbund. He looked like a man!
Papa took several photos—some of the group and a few of the girls or guys only. Initially, there was a bit of awkwardness, but it eventually melted into the bustle and anticipation of the evening.
They had dinner reservations at Olive Garden and headed over in their respective cars. The girls talked about how hot the guys looked, and wondered if they were having a similar conversation in their car?
Of course, Bethany killed the buzz. “Are you kidding? They’re probably having a farting contest.”
“Bethany! Ew!” said Astrid, scrunching up her nose.
They parked and walked in with the guys. Families and older couples turned their heads to see the group of teens dressed up so nicely for the evening.
Afterward, the gang piled into both cars and drove to the school. The boys parked quite a distance from the entrance.
“Let’s park closer,” said Bethany “I don’t want to walk further in these shoes than I have to.”
They heard two loud horn honks as they passed the boys.
Astrid stopped and rolled down the window. “What?”
The boy in the passenger seat held up a silver flask. “C’mon, we’ll share.”
Astrid waved him away and continued to drive. Bethany said, “Hey, why not, Astrid? Pull up next to them.”
“No!” Vivi blurted.
“Let’s take a vote,” Bethany ordered. “Those in favor raise your hand.”
Only Bethany’s hand went up.
“Sorry, Beth, three against one,” said Astrid.
Vivi was relieved. Alcohol scared her now that Nana had told Shane and her the truth about her parents’ snowmobile accident. She had made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t try alcohol until she was twenty-one, and then she would only drink on special occasions. Shane’s pot smoking reinforced her promise.
* * *
The gym was transformed. Overhead lights were dimmed and there were strings of miniature lights lining tables and hanging from the rafters. In the center of the room hung a disco ball that rotated as it illuminated the room with vibrant colors. A DJ sat in one corner with students in line to request special songs. A long banquet table had been set up behind the dancefloor where punch, water and soft drinks were served along with bowls of chips and nuts, and a large platter of cookies, decorated with the school colors.
As the night wore on, the dancefloor filled with couples or groups dancing together. It was obvious that the boys in their gang were tipsy—they did silly dances together, laughing and joking.
Vivi danced with a couple of boys—one she barely knew—but had more fun hanging out with her girlfriends. As she took a break to get something to drink, Jesse walked toward her.
“Hi,” he said, “are you having fun?”
She was sure he’d never said this many words directed at her.
“Yeah, how about you?”
“Mmm-hm.”
A slow song began to play, and Vivi felt uncomfortable watching the dancefloor fill up with couples.
“Wanna dance?” Jesse asked.
“Sure, okay,” Vivi said, hoping she sounded casual.
They walked onto the floor and Jesse put his arms around her waist and pulled her close. He wasn’t a bad dancer—in fact, in her fantasies she never saw him dancing at all. Maybe the swigs from the flask made him feel bold. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, but mixed with his musky cologne, it was sensual. They stayed on the dance floor for another slow song, and this time he held her more tightly. As they swayed, Vivi felt what she thought was an erection lightly pressed against her. She froze. What should she do? He didn’t seem embarrassed, so she decided to do nothing and pretend she didn’t notice. She felt discomfort but also arousal, and the two sensations competed with one another. Somewhere deep she discovered that she was facing womanhood, a one-way street. At the end of the song, Jesse brushed his lips softly across her cheek and asked if she wanted to go out sometime. She tried to camouflage the thrill that had overtaken her.
“That would be fun.”
That night, Vivi tossed and turned in bed either thinking, or dreaming about Jesse.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
2020
I was thrilled to tell Dr. Buhari how well I did the past weekend. I had turned a corner in my progress—my bouts of anxiety were rare after the passing-out episode. Soon, I would fully join the rest of humanity. I no longer felt on the outside looking in as I had for years. And I’d almost forgotten about the Valium.
For Eager Step Eight, I thought I’d reward myself while completing the step. My assignment was to drive to Metro Detroit with Faith and spend the day at an upscale shopping mall. I would treat myself to an expensive bottle of perfume, something I hadn’t worn in years. I’d let Faith splurge on something too, and then lunch at an upmarket restaurant.
We planned to go the following Saturday. Faith was winding down her freshman year, so she was busy during the week. I hadn’t heard any more about George, so she must have worked through the teasing episode at the pizza place. I intended to use the week to get ready for step eight by gardening, practicing mindfulness and praying.
* * *
Saturday came and I was excited to get our day started. I had to roust Faith from bed. She’d been sleeping a lot the last couple of days and was quieter than usual. Maybe just a letdown after all the time spent on the play.
We ate a quick breakfast, showered, dressed, and got into the car. The last time the two of us drove together was that awful scene at the intersection.
“Honey, are you sure you’re comfortable with our plan?” I asked.
“I think so, Mom. You’ve been doing really well. We’re going to have fun,” she answered, without much emotion. The disconnect bothered me but I let it go.
We entered the freeway and headed towards Detroit. Faith was initially quiet until she said, “Mom, can I talk with you about something?”
That caught me off guard. “Always, honey. What is it?”
“Remember when I told you about George?”
Oh no.
“Yes.”
“Well, he embarrassed me again yesterday in the cafeteria.”
“What? What did he do?”
“Annabelle invited me to sit with them for lunch. After we ate, I got up to leave to go to the bathroom. George said, ‘Where are you going? The bell hasn’t rung yet.’ I remembered what you said about teasing and I felt my face turn red. I said, ‘The restroom’ and kept walking. Then he said loudly, “I
want a detailed report when you’re done,” and all the boys at the table laughed.
Faith became tearful.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” I didn’t understand why this was worthy of tears but remembered how sensitive I was at her age.
Faith continued, “Annabelle said, ‘George, you’re the worst,’ and he said, “That’s not what Faith said last night.’ Then she called him an asshole and came to see if I was all right.”
My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. Now I was angry.
“It sounds like you should report him to the principal,” I said.
She sat up straight. “No way! That would just make things worse. Mom, promise you won’t call the school.”
“I won’t, Faith, unless this continues. Keep your distance from him.”
My heart ached for her, because although I knew that someday she would forget the event, right now it loomed over her like a heavy rain cloud. We talked about my childhood and adolescent years—I wasn’t sure how much she knew, but she didn’t seem surprised.
“My point in telling you this, Faith, is that you are ten times healthier and more level-headed than I was. I know without a doubt that you will be a strong, independent and beautiful young lady. These years are tough, but also a time for growth and figuring out who you are and what you stand for.”
Her mood lifted a little, and we turned up the radio and drove on.
* * *
I hadn’t been to the Great Lakes Mall in years. It was now enormous and a bit intimidating. There were landscaped areas surrounding the front of the building with benches, fountains and music playing from outdoor speakers. Several stores and restaurants had been added, and the parking lot enlarged. We parked and went inside, stepping into an expansive foyer with huge chandeliers and marble-looking floors.
There were eye-catching stores closest to the entrance: Godiva Chocolates, Brighton Collectables, Swarovski Crystal and others, and all had inviting window displays.
We spent the morning checking out at least eight clothing and designer shoe stores as well as perfume shops. We tested several fragrances and after much debate, I bought a bottle of Houbigant Paris for two hundred and eighty-five dollars. This would be a once in a lifetime purchase, and I would make it last a decade.