Snow Pictures

by Kevin Deeny

  Marcus replied as he looked at the card, “Father, I’m afraid I fit into the lapsed Catholic category and may not be the best use of your time.”

  Father Tim raised an eyebrow in mock surprise and replied, “Ah, a man with potential; keep the card, you’re a worthy challenge.”

  Dr. Bea watched the exchange between Marcus and Tim with interest and bemusement. Marcus raised good questions, but she wondered about the religious aspects. She pursued the curiosity and asked, “Marcus, do you think that your healing experience has a religious foundation?”

  “Not particularly, I think it has a human foundation; it’s part of our potential as human beings.”

  Once the conversation died down, Marcus and Rosalind made a brief circuit around the room and eased their way out. They spent the remainder of their long weekend together as a couple, neither looking forward to Marcus’ departure.

  Chapter 17

  Life Together

  This time like all times is a very good one if we but know what to do with it. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Rosalind and Marcus had come to the point in their lives where they had to make decisions. Their separate fields of study kept them apart in different colleges with limited chances to be with each other, but they each knew they were miserable apart. They began to talk about the future and wanted what most other couples wanted; to marry and raise a family. Each had reservations, not about each other, but about themselves.

  Rosalind’s family had broken apart as she finished high school and her parents had gone separate ways. She did not respond well to their breakup and withdrew into depression until she finally found her path. She was concerned about what that foundation could mean for her commitment to marriage.

  Marcus had some of the same concerns, only stronger. His parent’s marriage had also broken up, which in some ways eased the tension at home. He was less concerned about their divorce than he was about the dysfunction that existed throughout his entire upbringing. His reaction to it caused him to internalize a great deal, and he feared that in some ways he may be broken. Always in the background were the thoughts of his father’s alcoholism and his own anger.

  As they considered their own family’s experiences, they took their time together, knowing the future would still be there when they were ready. They spent as much time together as holidays and semester breaks allowed. They finally came to the understanding that sometimes even a negative example can be valuable if it shows you what not to do. Although their family experiences left a lot to be desired, at least they had the benefits of guideposts where ‘out of bounds’ were clearly marked.

  In the end, each concluded that they were overthinking. They were in love; from the seed of their first encounter in high school to their joining in college, their relationship had grown in measures to form a strong bond. Rosalind no longer felt alone in the world and Marcus, who always felt comfortable in solitude, found that was no longer the case when he was apart from Rosalind.

  They knew that they no longer wanted to live apart from each other and were married in the chapel at Northwestern University. Their parents came together for the occasion, and Marcus was pleased to see his dad work in an AA meeting during his visit. Rosalind did what planning needed to be done; they both wanted an intimate and simple wedding. Dr. Bea, it turned out, was also an ordained minister who performed the ceremony. She felt that she too was giving a daughter away. She and Rosalind had grown close, and Rosalind knew that she would stay connected to Bea for the rest of her life.

  Many of the mechanics of their life together had to be worked out. Rosalind had to be close to a hospital for her work, but Marcus wasn’t as limited to a particular location; as he put it, “Plants grow everywhere.” Rosalind found a position in the pediatric department at the Mt. Joy Hospital in Pittsburg. Marcus took a job with a pharmaceutical company outside of Pittsburg but only lasted 9 months. He loved the technical challenges associated with the research of new compounds for potential use in medicines, but he continued to be nagged by his own experience which didn’t require chemistry. As importantly, he needed to get out of the lab and feel the sun on his face.

  He worked briefly for a seed company that provided him the opportunity to get out to farms and work with owners. However, he quickly became disillusioned with the heavy reliance on pesticides and herbicides and looked for something with a more natural leaning. When he heard that the Organic Growers Association was looking for a biologist, he jumped. His work required him to travel throughout the region assisting farmers with the technical requirements of organic growing, staffing the kiosk at agricultural conventions, and giving educational talks to school children. As his experience grew, he was asked to review proposed legislation and occasionally provided technical briefings to lawmakers. In time, this fledgling segment of the world’s agriculture blossomed as it grew in response to the demands of consumers and Marcus found himself quite busy.

  Rosalind poured herself into her work at the hospital. Her focus involved her in pediatric cases that ranged the full gamut of childhood disease and injury. The work was challenging and every year brought technical advances and new insight into pediatric medicine.

  Each settled into careers but knew they wanted more. Both wanted children, but their efforts to start a family were unsuccessful. After years of leaving things to chance, they sought a medical diagnosis and learned that Rosalind was not able to conceive due to a biological condition that impacted ovulation. Although Marcus was successful in easing Rosalind’s stress, her inability to conceive did not change and it remained beyond his ability to affect. They were both heartbroken.

  Even more so, work became the focus of their time and energy and each became very good at their profession. However, after several years and countless cases, Rosalind became frustrated at work. She understood part of the frustration was due to her inability to start a family, but there was something more. She decided to take a break, arranged a week’s vacation and scheduled a trip to see Bea who had since retired from her work at the clinic. Marcus drove her to the airport, accompanied her to the security checkpoint, and watched as she went through screening. They waved to each other over the distance as she turned into the concourse leading to the gate for her flight to Chicago.

  Marcus was aware of Rosalind’s anxiousness lately that kept her preoccupied and hyper-involved in dealing with the details of her cases. She seldom took time off and worked most nights at home summarizing case notes and follow-up reminders. She often complained about the workload both on clinical and administrative levels. There was no end in sight; the human need and the dysfunction of the healthcare system were becoming overwhelming. With this mounting pressure, Marcus was extremely grateful to hear of her intention to visit Bea. He could think of no one better from which to seek advice. As he pulled from the airport parking lot, Marcus realized that he missed Rosalind already. “Safe travels, honey,” he said to her silently as he shifted gears and headed toward home.

  Rosalind and Bea spent a few leisurely days on long morning walks, visits with old friends, and enjoyed bottomless cups of tea while that sat on the spacious porch of Bea’s cottage style house. Rosalind admired Bea from the moment she met her and had developed a deep love for this woman who had been a mentor, but in the process, became closer to her in many ways than her own mother. Rosalind had come seeking advice not only as a physician but also as a loved one.

  Bea had welcomed Rosalind’s visit and could see right away that she was struggling internally. She let Rosalind voice concerns on her own time, without prying or prodding. Eventually, Rosalind’s sadness about not being able to bear children and her frustration with her work became clear points of discussion and Bea felt that she was now able to offer some advice. They settled into cushioned chairs on the porch with their requisite cup of tea and watched the sun go down. They sat in silence until Bea moved to begin the conversation.

  “Rosalind, honey,
I know you are hurting, and I can’t offer you any reasonable explanation about why you can’t have children. We both can analyze the clinical conditions and define the physical realities, but the spiritual reason escapes me. I know you well enough to believe that you would be a compassionate and caring mother. But if that is not to be, then what?”

  “Bea, in my heart, I’ve accepted the reality that I will not be a mother. I’ve wrestled with trying to understand why in a spiritual sense, but that explanation has never come to me. My solace has been my work with children for the last several years, but lately, I just seem frustrated. I’m good at my job, but maybe that’s part of the problem, I’m looking at it as a job.”

  “Dear, I was once where you are now, and I made the change to work at the clinic after a lot of soul-searching. I never regretted the decision for a single day. Your path will be different, but it’s important to be engaged in work that sustains you, we are not meant to be martyrs here, and it is perfectly acceptable to pursue a life with joy.”

  “Years ago, you came to me full of energy and excitement and found out a lot about yourself working in the clinic. Think about that period of high optimism and dedication and try to connect with what mattered to you then. What got you out of bed in the morning and what carried you through the god-awful winter weather day after day to your classes and to the clinic?”

  “Think about what you are doing now and ask yourself if you still feel that way; are you still learning, are you still driven to get out of bed in the morning and face a new day of possibilities?”

  “You might remember that we talked some time ago about our clientele at the clinic and how you felt that many had lost the command of their lives. That comment stuck with me because I think it applies to us all. So, the question I have for you to consider is; Are you in command of your life?”

  “Now one last point before I stop blabbing; you were inspired to become a doctor, and it was very personal for you. That inspiration took you far. Find it again, if you can; you still have far to go.”

  Rosalind reached out and took Bea’s hand in quiet thanks. They sat and watched the final minutes of the sunset as it painted the clouds a crimson gold and said farewell to the day. Darkness gathered around them, and the sounds of crickets saturated the night air. Rosalind now had a plan.

  That night, Rosalind called Marcus with a change in plans. She wanted to visit the children’s hospital on Sunday and thought it would be nice to spend Saturday doing all the touristy things in Philly. They made plans for her to fly in from Chicago on Friday afternoon and Marcus would come over from Pittsburg and meet her at the hotel in time for dinner. He was curious and pleased. Rosalind sounded excited and focused in a way that could only mean one thing; change was coming.

  Chapter 18

  Coming Back

  Man is capable of changing the world for the better if possible and changing himself for the better if necessary. – Viktor Frankl

  Bystanders gathered at the mouth of the alley as Marcus pushed through along the sidewalk. Gawkers stared, some pointing and talking on their cell phones, and others recording. As Marcus came abreast of the alleyway, he looked at the focus of their attention. In the fading light, he could see a man and a woman at the end of the trash-strewn alley. He was a big man and had hold of the much smaller woman by her upper arms while he shook her and shouted. Marcus couldn’t make out what he yelled, but it really didn’t matter, his intent was clear.

  At just under six feet tall, Marcus wasn’t considered small, but the guy down the alley looked to him to be football player size which should have given rise to at least some hesitation, but for reasons he didn’t yet understand he moved forward. He stepped into the foul alley and walked toward the couple. He was strangely calm and felt an authority where none actually existed when he commanded: “Robert, stop what you’re doing.”

  The big man turned with an incredulous look and slurred, “Buddy, you need to get the hell out of here.”

  Marcus repeated himself as he stepped forward with his arms spread and his palms turned upward, “Robert, stop what you’re doing.” He continued, “Look at this woman, really look at her. She is scared to death of you. No matter what passed between the two of you, is this the man you want to be?”

  Robert fell silent as the woman continued to sob. Sirens could now be heard in the near distance, and the crowd at the end of the alley grew hushed. Marcus stepped up and gently placed his hand on the woman’s arm, looked directly at Robert and said “When you were a boy, is this the image of the man you wanted to become? Look at the fear on Alicia’s face. Is this what you imagined for yourself – that you would be feared in this way by a woman you care about?”

  Marcus looked up past the matrix of fire escapes to the sliver of sky that was still bright in contrast to the darkening alley. He nodded up toward the contrails of a plane passing overhead. “Look, life is going on all around us. People pass overhead going and coming, and they will never be aware of this moment.” He half turned and nodded over his shoulder, “Cars and trucks pass by, and those people too will never be aware of this moment. All around us people are living their lives, but this is now your moment to decide how your future will play out and how you will live the rest of your life. You too feel this is true. You are a better man than this. Let Alicia go and live your life.”

  Marcus watched as Robert looked briefly at the sliver of still visible sky and then down to the face of the woman he held. He saw the tears that carried her make-up in small rivulets that dropped to her dress, and he noticed the lines on her face that spoke of sorrows he could not know. His shoulders dropped slightly, and the muscles that twitched along his jawline calmed as his tension eased. He relaxed his grip on the woman. Marcus steadied her as she tried to balance on her broken heels, smiled and gently nodded for her to leave. He listened as she clip-clopped down the alley, all the while watching Robert whose expression changed from anger to annoyed curiosity. He looked carefully at Marcus and said, “Man, I’ve never seen you before, how do you know me?”

  Marcus answered, “It’s just a thing. I always know names.”

  They both became aware of the background noise at the same time. Police had arrived at the head of the alley, guns drawn, and shouting commands. Marcus looked at Robert and said, “Things are going to get a little crazy here.” He gestured toward the police and said: “These guys are all pumped up on adrenaline, and a big guy like you probably scares the hell out of them.” Marcus raised his hands and motioned for Robert to do the same. “They’re going to drop us to the ground and handcuff us, and I don’t see any other choice but to lay down in this crap.” He looked down to find the least filthy spot on the ground, knelt and then lay with his hands clasped behind his head.

  Robert paused as if he was deciding to turn and confront the police, but he shrugged and followed Marcus’ lead. As they heard the rush of approaching footsteps, Robert carefully turned his head to avoid the muck on the ground, looked at Marcus and said: “Who the hell are you?”

  Marcus answered, “Up to a few minutes ago, I was just a guy walking down the sidewalk trying not to be late for dinner.”

  Robert looked puzzled then nodded. “Good luck with that.”

  Handcuffed and smelling of stale beer, Marcus sat quietly in the back of the police car. He was uncomfortable, not only did he have the stench of the alley all over his clothes; he couldn’t lean back in the seat with his hands cuffed behind him. He was getting annoyed. It was taking them too long to sort this out. Just then a detective opened the car door, gestured to Robert who was being held a few yards away and asked, “Do you know this guy?”

  “No, I just met him” he replied. The detective grunted something unintelligible and closed the door.

  Marcus overheard him tell the patrolman, “Take this one to the station; I have a few more questions.”

  It wasn’t a very long ride to the station – he e
stimated about 10 minutes, but he became more annoyed at the added delay. He was escorted through the station to a small interview room where the handcuffs were removed, and he was told that the detective would be along shortly. He thought for a few moments and decided that Rosalind probably gave up on him a while ago. She would never believe this story, but he would try and explain later. He chose not to worry about it now; after all, there wasn’t much he could do about it anyway.

  The room itself was sparse, furnished with a heavy wooden table that was scarred and nicked from many years of use. On either side of it sat two chairs that were a slightly newer vintage; three had aluminum frames with a nominal seat cushion, but the other looked like a commandeered office chair upholstered in faux leather. Marcus sat down in the office chair because it seemed to be the most comfortable and waited.

  He leaned back in the chair slightly, closed his eyes, and thought of his various treks to photograph ice-encrusted waterfalls, mountainsides emblazoned with the colors of fall leaves, and the quiet beauty beneath the canopy in a pine forest. Although all of these places were visually stunning, he found the sounds of the water cascading down the rock face, the wind in the leaves and the birds in the understory to be particularly soothing and his mind took him back to those places. He sat quietly with a half-smile as his breathing settled into a familiar rhythm.

  It was several minutes until the detective entered the room and stopped short when he saw Marcus sitting in the chair he considered his own personal space. He crossed to the opposite side of the table, dragged a chair over and sat. The man didn’t fit the caricature of a detective that Marcus envisioned. He judged him to be about 50 years old, in good physical shape and spoke with a slight accent that he couldn’t quite place. Maybe somewhere in New England, he thought.