This is my first and only fictional writing. I stated at the beginning of 2025 that I might share this novella, written in 2020… Because what did most of us do back then?… I read Father God’s Word, 1984, Animal Farm, Gulag Archipelago and more…I also walked a lot and painted. So now I share this for the close of this year and await Father’s next adventure for me.
Title:
QR CODE
By
Nina
Benson
Dedication:
To God… The Master Storyteller and Editor
My children - all six… and subsequently my family and friends - you are all a part of my life’s story because we are connected that way…
Thank you all and I will always love you.
QR Code
By Nina Benson
Deborah, on a dare from her friends, got a simple QR Code. They were all getting tattoos after spending a full weekend together to commemorate their shared broken dreams. They were the brokenhearted. Deborah was the last to be added as a full fledged member of the group, although they had all been friends since high school. They were in each other's weddings. They were there before and after the birth of child number one... and number two. Gladys had a miscarriage on child number three, but they were all together. Through the scary concerns of nursing and burping the baby - “Is the baby supposed to be on its back or on its tummy?” They were together navigating the first days of school and then going back to work... to feel like they were contributing to the family - as if mothering wasn’t enough. Then there were the long nights that turned into days, when the husbands had to be gone for business trips - MIlly’s husband was really gone for much longer than needed, it seemed. The others knew it. Milly did too, but she wasn’t ready to admit the obvious.
Milly started attending a fitness club - she got the others to join too. She had to do something to get the weight off from her last baby. That baby was now in the third grade and had come home from school saying, the teacher wanted to know, “when the new baby was due?”. There was no new baby due! Her seventh grader laughed, pointed, and even called her fat - like she had heard their father say anytime he saw her eating anything other than raw fruits and vegetables. Her body image had become a struggle. She didn’t know who she was anymore. So, she convinced her friends that it would be fun. Something they could do together, at least once a week, ...for themselves….
Milly went as often as she could and within a year and with very hard work had managed to drop 30% of her body fat. It wasn’t enough though. At the following year’s company picnic, she noticed that her husband had disappeared from the game area. He was supposed to be playing those silly company games with the kids… When she asked her son where his father was, he said he had to get some papers from the boss’ boat at the dock. Milly had just come out of the clearing and was walking up to the dock when she saw that pretty little mail clerk walking towards her - blocking her husband’s view of her. He had reached around her and started groping at her as she adjusted her spandex skirt. The mail clerk saw Milly, laughed and pushed her body back into Milly’s husband. He never once saw Milly. They were about 60 feet away from each other - but it could have easily been chasms.
Milly was the first to start the Broken Dreams Club. At some point they just referred to it as the BDC. She had started drinking. Drinking unbelievable amounts. She just gave up after trying so hard for so long with no results in her favor… But Gladys and Deborah didn’t give up. They wouldn’t lose their friend - wouldn’t allow her to lose the person she had worked so hard to find. They were committed to seeing her through the divorce. Packing up his stuff that he had promised to come and get, so she didn’t have to see it everywhere… Gladys got bumped with a box in her chest as they moved the boxes out to the driveway despite the storm clouds building in the distance - so what if his stuff got rained on… a change was coming. The clouds were going to empty their fiercest pounding of hailstones yet...
At home, the next morning after the storm, Gladys felt stiff from all the work of hauling boxes, but her chest felt oddly sore. She took a hot shower, but noticed what she thought was a small bruise on her left side just above her nipple area. She remembered that she had been bumped with a box as they worked quickly to get everything outside… A week passed, two weeks and the bruise grew to a small knot then larger…
It had been a long hard year. Gladys lost all of her hair with the last round of chemo and radiation. She had such beautiful thick hair - it was always full of soft black curls. Now, she was so weak and so sick - mainly from the chemo. Her doctors tried everything and some things that were experimental. Milly traveled with her to Mexico for an untested radical treatment while Deborah took care of her kids. It was supposed to be easy. They were in the same school and grades - fifth and ninth. Gladys’ husband was gone on “important business”- Absent-When-Needed-Most. AWNM - a new acronym for the ladies. Milly’s ex was supposed to take care of their kids but dropped the ball at the last minute, so of course, Deborah got called to pinch hit - it was like having sextuplets - which doesn’t happen often. Deborah knew how to handle her two kids, but add to the mix another two sets of kids. One set broken from divorce and another set, scared that their mother was dying and you’ve got the makings for immeasurable stress. Deborah’s husband doesn’t do well with stress, so rather than be of some assistance - he thought it best to just stay the hell out of the way and visited the local watering hole till closing, every night.
Milly’s kids were angry. Her son was the neighborhood firebug. The oldest had an eating disorder and had to be watched because she would purge her food. Deborah found her barf bag and nearly hurled herself. This discovery sent Milly’s daughter into hysterics. She was supposed to be visiting her father once Milly returned from Mexico and thought the discovery would ruin the desired visit because she had to be “Little Miss Perfect”, as her pyro brother called it. He was the direct opposite of how he saw his sister and seemed to have no greater joy than to cause both of his parents as much grief as he felt they caused him. With Milly gone he unleashed his vile hatred onto Deborah. He hated everything she did - everything was wrong. The entire week was a never-ending battle of “you’re not doing enough” rage.
Conversely, Gladys’ kids cried and prayed and cried even more. The school contacted Deborah daily to get updates so that the children could make it through their classes. Deborah was horrified to find out that Gladys’ oldest daughter had been cutting herself. She made this discovery the final night of their stay and wondered if Gladys knew ….and, if not, was this the time to tell her?
Deborah was emotionally empty, she had nothing more to give. She felt guilty for feeling like she had been “put upon” - that she somehow drew the short end, but her good friend was dying and was grasping for her own straws… And where was her husband - again?… AWNM!
When Deborah’s husband finally did stumble home - he nearly woke the dead.
He was drunk!
Again!
He fell into bed. Deborah had her back to him. She didn’t want to have him touch her in any way, but his very presence permeated the room, when he sat on the edge of the bed, when he flopped his head on his pillow and reeked of cigarette smoke and booze - he touched her. He filtered down to her discontented soul. She couldn’t stand it - that he had even managed to get himself home.
Another year had passed and Gladys survived after a double mastectomy - her marriage did not. Gladys’ husband stuck around for two years - partly because he wanted to make sure she was in remission however, mostly he didn’t want to appear like the jerk he was. He had never stood beside her through any of her treatments, through her pain, the exhaustion, the fear. The day of her surgery he was gone again…AWNM! He seemed to have the mindset that he just didn’t sign-up for the hand he had been dealt and wanted out. A year and a half later, after the divorce, he was being transported from Italy to Stromboli to meet with a client; however, a sudden gale seemed to come out of nowhere and thrashed the small transporting craft onto the base of the volcano. His body was never found. Final absence duly noted for the last time.
Milly’s son ended up in the criminal system for setting minor fires. No one ever got hurt - until the last fire. Milly’s son and his friends set a fire at the junkyard. It was a dry windy day and the sparks were carried quickly upward into the night air. The nightwatchman came running out, frantic when he saw that the shed had caught on fire. Some reason, while his two friends ran away, Milly’s son turned, saw and then managed to understand the old man’s yelling - for his dog to come out of the shed, now partially engulfed in flames. It had just given birth to a litter of pups and the mom wouldn’t leave them. The watchman was frantically running back and forth screaming. Milly’s son went back and ran into the shed. He saw the pups and the mom. They looked dead, but he threw them towards the door. He could hear the sirens - the firemen and the police would be there any minute. He grabbed the mother and ran for the opening through flames, but tripped on the melting tires and went face down. Two-thirds of his body was outside the shed, the other covered in flaming tires. The dogs survived. The nightwatchman came to the hospital with the dogs to visit Milly’s son - the hospital having made special allowances for the special visitors everyday.
Talk about broken dreams…
As time passed… Deborah grew distant from her friends. She got caught up in the busyness of the lives of her daughters. Her girls were young women now - the oldest was in her second year of college at the time of Milly’s son’s accident. Her youngest daughter was in her second year of high school. Deborah pretended her life was idyllic aside from her husband. The nightmare. Somehow he was able to maintain his job, but was such an embarrassment everywhere else. Deborah tried to compensate for her husband’s drinking problem - making numerous excuses to family and neighbors, but everyone knew about it. She failed miserably at trying to do the most. Their daughters never had friends over, because dad would inadvertently do something wild and crazy that would end with their friends either laughing up a storm or nervously looking for the way out. The girls hated that their mom didn’t do something - anything! Why wouldn’t she make dad stop? Why couldn’t she be the wife that fixed things? Why didn’t she do what she was supposed to?
Holidays were the worst.
Deborah was caught up in everything - everything that sedated the discontentedness she loathed. She always pulled out all the bells and whistles, but it just wasn’t enough. What she did could never dress the wounds that went to the bone.
This was not her dream...
During their daughters last Christmas at home Deborah had prepared a beautiful dinner for the family. The oldest daughter had just accepted an internship in Bogota with a non-for-profit and would be leaving that spring, the youngest was going away to college the following summer. So this Christmas was particularly special. Her husband’s sister and her husband were coming along with their youngest son and his fiance. The house looked like something from Better Homes and Garden, and Deborah had pleaded with her husband not to drink for the day. She kept a watch over him like a hawk and insisted that he remain in the kitchen with her as she did final preparations.
After she had served dessert, Deborah was beginning to breathe a sigh of relief, when her husband insisted that they needed to take a family portrait. He scrambled from the table and managed to get his camera set up with the girls' anticipation increasing as they seemed to know something terrible was about to happen. They laughed that scared laugh - when you know nothing is funny, but your world is about to implode and you’re helpless to do anything. Deborah kept saying that it wasn’t necessary, but her husband insisted curtly all the more - He was often out of sorts when he wasn’t drinking. He was happy - too happy, when he was.
The family made it through four varying poses all to make Deborah’s husband happy, but after the fifth snapshot; it happened. He didn’t even know it was happening - as he stood in front of everyone telling them where to stand and how to look.
He was incontinent.
He had on light khaki colored pants with an obvious, wet spot building - growing from the size so small that you thought at first it was just a shadow, but then it grew and grew and ran down his leg to the floor.
Everyone froze.
Click!
Deborah was the first to move after her husband noticed everyone’s face and out of his downward peripheral vision he saw the growing puddle at his feet and left the room without a word. Deborah ran to the kitchen for paper towels. The oldest girl ran after her saying in tones under her voice. “I hate you, I hate this house, I hate dad… I hate everything!” and burst into tears as she ran past her mother to her room. Deborah wanted to run too. Deborah started to run after her, but remembered the youngest was still out there with the family...
Deborah was overcome with life... the lives of her children,... her dear friends. She didn’t even realize that she missed what she didn’t have - dreams - a life of her own. She couldn’t fix any of them. Nor did she have a clue about fixing herself. She figured she must have been broken… the problem. She had tried to do more... Deborah had worked so hard to be everyones’ enough, but was always wanting; wanting something that was just out of reach. She saw “it” in other people, she even thought she caught glimpses of it seemingly in ordinary people as she drove pass them waiting at a bus stop, as she overheard them on phone calls, as she walked alone along the bike path...They were happy, they had joy, they had the something that she just longed to have and to hold, if only her circumstances were different. It was something that she and her friends from the broken dreams club - the brokenhearted, longed for so badly.
One day at the deli counter Deborah thought it was her turn, but didn’t notice a quiet unassuming woman with a pleasant expression, was actually next.... Deborah blurted out her order, only to be told by the counter man gesturing, “That woman there is next”. Deborah, embarrassed, apologized but the quiet woman said that it was okay and that Deborah could take her turn.
They passed each other three other times in different lanes, by the pasta, in the cereal aisle, at the frozen section - ice cream. Deborah was reaching for a pint of chocolate. The quiet woman was reaching for vanilla Dove bars and mentioned with a sigh, “it was a bit of a tough day”. Deborah rhetorically questioned, ‘when isn’t a day, tough?’
But the quiet woman smiled and said with resolve, “when we don’t give them all over to Jesus.”
This surprised Deborah.
Deborah fashioned herself a good person, most would even say Christian, but she had never come in contact with someone who spoke their faith - not her family, nor her friends… Sure, they all went to church on Mother’s Day, Easter and Christmas. All the kids went through confirmation… Everybody did what they were supposed to do, on the surface, but under the ground, in the dirty parts of life, surely we were supposed to make stuff work on our own. How many times did she hear her own mother say, “God gave you a good head - now use it for something other than a hat holder!”
The quiet woman had turned and smiled at Deborah. She looked directly at her - the woman had strength and joy… And as Deborah looked a few seconds longer - she sensed peace. The woman got her ice cream bars and walked away. Deborah stood still - frozen, with the freezer door open looking after the woman. She was perplexed. She wondered what this quiet woman who seemed thoughtful, had been through that was so tough, but was still managing, still living in… joy? Because she had given her days to the baby Jesus in the manger? She wondered what could Jesus do that hard work could not accomplish? She reckoned that a person could try to do anything… to fix stuff... Horrid stuff…
But who was she kidding?
She wanted to cry.
She felt for the end of her rope,... but it was already well out of her reach.
The end of Deborah’s rope came without warning on the hottest day of July. A real record breaker.
Deborah’s oldest was staying at her college - far away from home - on purpose. Although she had officially finished college, she had proved herself invaluable as a senior - student admissions counselor. She had reorganized the college’s computer system for incoming freshmen and streamlined the process for welcoming these new students. She single handedly made their transition into college life as smooth as butter - making the school more desirable, thus more profitable.
The youngest daughter got accepted to the same college - far away from home - with scholarships. So she was, big sister’s right hand gopher and part of the experiment for making freshmen transition smooth. This was a huge transition for everyone, not just the youngest.
Deborah was suddenly faced with an empty nest in more ways than one… and had to face her husband - the drunk. He pulled all-nighters in God knows what hell hole. When he did manage to come home he looked unrecognizable. She didn’t even want him sitting on the furniture. She always immediately threw out his clothes - wrapping everything, socks, underwear, if he had any, his shirt, suit jacket… she didn’t care - it all went into the black lawn plastic bags. She wore gloves. He almost always lost his wallet. Their checking account had been “hacked” - his words. Whenever he was coherent she confronted him about missing money - large sums. She was so ashamed after going to the bank to discuss problems with their account when her debit card had been rejected at the grocery store - again. She felt like everyone was staring at her… like it had been announced over the loudspeaker, “Clean-up at register three. Put the frozen pizzas back in the freezer before they thaw…” Talking with the bank manager was a new level of humiliation for her - she thought life surely can't get much lower. He saw the transactions on his screen and questioned, “Did you make purchases for uh… services...uh and beverages... at the Excalibur Club on...such and such date?” Did you stay at the Motel… on Wednesday through Saturday? His eyebrows went up as he sought clarification.
Deborah had to lay her life bare to what she felt was a man not much older than her oldest daughter. He looked incisive but judgmental. Deborah bit her lip. She tasted the blood and hated what she had to do. This was NOT what she bargained for at this stage of her life. The great empty nest… It was crashing in on her. Her husband was sitting there idly watching - seemingly dumbfounded and asked where the bathroom was for the third time in their hour and half visit.
After her humiliating visit at the bank, Deborah managed to get everything transferred into her name as primary holder, making the girls beneficiaries. She then had the bank issue a debit card to her husband that she was able to load funds onto weekly. She thought $300 per week was generous. He whined disgracefully for a couple hundred more - which she smiled at the banker and said, ‘He’s going on a trip’.
On their ride home, Deborah drove. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t look at him. She just bit her lip and wanted to vomit. When she pulled into the driveway, she reached for her purse, but he grabbed her hand, which made her look at him…
His eyes.
She did not know who he was.
He was no longer her husband… No one had to tell him that… at least… but, he wanted to see her…
One last time.
It was the hottest day in July. A real record breaker.
Deborah’s husband said he wanted to take the car to run to get some cigarettes… Her tears were hotter than the day’s heat as they ran down her face. She pushed the keys into his hands as they crossed paths briefly.
It was the last time she saw him. He saw her… all that she had tried to do to fix him… to fix the girls… to fix their family.
In that brief moment he saw all of what he had …
All that he had taken… and taken…
It was the last day of July when he was found. He was about 700 miles from home… But it could have easily been ten times as far, because Deborah’s husband had been gone for so many, many years. The official cause of death was alcohol poisoning, but there was a note left behind in his pocket… It smelled of urine, cigarettes and booze...
“Sorry”.
The girls didn’t want to see their dad, so Deborah had his remains cremated. After some discussion the girls said that they’d prefer to come home during Thanksgiving break, since school was starting. They both agreed that “Dad wasn’t very present anyway, and wanted to carry on with life at school - ut solet... And they did… Deborah too; for a while, but with the house empty - she could not stand it… She was determined to sell the sprawling ten room Queen Anne house as quickly as possible. She wanted to sell everything… she just wanted out as soon as possible.
The ladies came together. The Broken Dreams Club aka - BDC.
Milly was the first to arrive. She was living a couple of states away, but had insisted that they get together at least once every other month.
Milly’s son survived the fire, but had lost the use of his right leg. Both legs were scarred with tissue damage so extensive that he needed special braces for support. His father all but disowned him and refused to step-up - even when the initial cause of his son’s actions was a scream for attention; resulted in debilitating disabilities. The night watchmen became a mentor. While he had never had children he had had a good father and took the boy under his wing. He had found his purpose and so did Milly’s son.
Milly’s daughter got married to an older man - she was looking for a father. She continues with bouts of extreme eating swings when under stress. She and her husband adopted a child from Ukraine. Sadly, the child had been deprived of human contact for too long of its young life and suffered from attachment disorders, making for less than the idyllic family that the young woman had hoped for - her husband expecting the trophy family - looked for perfection in other places - just like her father.
Milly, financially supported in the divorce, was able to maintain a modicum of her life, but had acquired skills, being the sole caregiver to her son during his recovery. She went back to school and worked part time on a burn unit - Milly’s purpose born out of embers.
Gladys still lived nearby, unable to move because of crazy medical bills. Once her husband died, so did her health benefits. She was at the mercy of the state and was often too sick to fight. She lived on her own. Her daughters still cared for her, worried constantly about her. The older one got married and lived about 10 minutes away on a couple of acres of shared farmland. She was close enough to get to her mom to be there... She no longer engaged in self-harm, however, she did rescue dogs.The couple had no children, so it was this that she poured herself into - releasing her tension, her feelings of being overwhelmed with out-of-control-circumstances; with each rescued dog and puppies. The younger one had a computer job and was fortunate enough to work from home and so was available to her mother 24/7. They both didn’t want to lose their mom. They were all tethered together. Gladys had inadvertently created a codependent relationship with them. She was always there for them; they were there for her, but eventually they all became so fearful of life and living that she never really gave them permission to develop their wings and fly - to dream… And after the accident, since her husband was “Absent When Needed Most”, all she had was them… She really didn’t want to die alone, so she stayed the course and kept the grasps of death at bay by living an artificial life.
Gladys’ life had become home and visits to the endless doctors wanting to try something new that always left her more sick than better… She was of the mind, “hadn’t she already given enough”? She was tired, but when Deborah’s time had come, like the others…
They came together to do what friends with broken dreams do…
They cried over pizza, hot wings and a few too many bottles of vino to see if they could dare dream something new... see a new dream at the bottom of the bottle...like getting the lucky gumball from the gumball machine at the corner store… If you got it; you got to get something more, something different, because you had already paid the cost.
None of them got anything more, anything different.. Even though they seemingly paid the cost.
After the third or fourth bottle was more than half gone, Deborah was first to admit what Milly and Gladys pushed away, ran away from, and saw as an empty nightmare of horrors… Their married lives were slow deaths to begin with - they were doomed before any of them said, “I do”. They had not married for their futures… They did not marry wisely. They did not heed any marriage counseling, with the exception of what they saw played out in front of them as children, (she who does not consider their past is surely doomed to repeat it - somehow, especially the mistakes). For all of them it just seemed to be the natural course of life, because it was “time” after high school and some college courses. None of them had even married because of love - not really - if they had been honest with themselves. Their collective 75 plus or minus years of marriage had moments - fleeting moments of happiness, but nothing solid with which to stand. Nothing to build a future upon. Nothing they dreamed of… They too quickly found themselves so busy with their children for more than half the time they were married.
During this time, their husbands had become distracted by what they thought they missed in marriage - youth & beauty - and sought to regain what they thought was lost in “paradise”
Their dreams.
Like Adam, they too had been beguiled by the promises of endless possibilities, of the serpent.
The ladies were busy with the doing of married life rather than living life. Sadly, no one told them anything different. Kind of like “Fiddler on the Roof”, when Tevye asked Golde, “Do you love me?” after a couple of decades of marriage. Her response was, “... What have I been doing if this is not love”? It was doing, but she had to come to a resolve that she did indeed love him… But theirs was a mutual playing field. Tevye loved her too in the course of doing - life.
After Deborah’s epiphany, Gladys wanted to do more cleaning and organizing for the purpose of selling a house. She just wanted to physically fix stuff… Milly, not wanting to be outdone by someone more afflicted than herself, but more so, wanted to avoid the unpleasant conversation of, ‘what the hell happened to our lives' - began working to be busy, as if busy was going to mask the light that exposed three failed marriages. It was clear Milly and Gladys did not want to address something so unthinkable - the possibility that they too had contributed to the failure… failed to act upon their dreams and live life. They too had done something however innocent, but so damaging, as to be a part of the sad state they found themselves - They went along with the program. It was their spouses that went rogue...They did that on their own,... but did they?
They each separately thought, “I was busy … doing ... nothing… to stop…”
Too much vino.
It was much later than they thought and they were all emotionally depleted.The gray of the new day was just coming… The dull silence of early morning was presenting itself. The birds hadn’t begun to chirp. Everything seemed muted and there was nothing… yet for the sighs - the silent prayers.
Just beginning… another day…
Another new day…
Just like the one before. It seems kind of pointless to call it “new” any more.
Deborah’s house didn’t sell as quickly as she had hoped. She found out that her husband had somehow tied their meager assets with some bad business deals with the company. The company he worked for went after whatever they could of hers to recoup their losses. They didn’t care that it wasn’t her fault - they didn’t care that she was on the short end of the stick. They just wanted...
“Sucks to be Deborah”, again.
Deborah did a short sale for the house just to get the company vultures out of her hair. That was a mistake.
She lost again.
A lot.
Sadly, again.
Deborah had already visited a flat, seeing the ad in the newspaper when Milly and Gladys were around to help pack. They went with her - to check things out… So they would feel better.
They knew this was a launch.
The last one...
...to fly the coop, of sorts.
On moving day, she was able to pack all of what was left of her old life that she wanted to carry into the new one - mainly reminders of the girls - into a 20 foot U-Haul truck to go from her suburban life to the city - just 12 miles away.
She took the flat with two bedrooms, in case the girls came to visit, (they never would), above a nail salon off the alley. It was within her price range, after the life insurance and lawyers. She’d have to find a job eventually, but for a few months she could recede into the background of life, move more into the shadows... The owner, who was crude, didn't seem to speak English. He spoke with gestures and some form of a foreign language in hushed harsh tones, to a quiet woman. He was dismissive and curt. He was balding, about mid to late 70’s, smoked, and had missing teeth. What teeth he had were yellowed, stained from smoking, as were his fingers on his right hand. He seemed only interested that she would pay her rent in cash on the first of every month - and no animals. Conversely and oddly, the quiet woman, possibly a daughter, seemed pleasant, and vaguely familiar, but Deborah had no idea why or how - she rarely came to the city. Initially, she didn’t look at Deborah. The quiet woman had a meek subservient air about her. She knew how to handle the rental of the room, but gave familia honor to the old man. He walked off without even acknowledging Deborah’s outstretched hand, but the quiet woman motioned for her to follow her. The quiet woman gave an official lease and the receipt for the first month’s rent.
Milly, Gladys, Gladys’ daughters, and her daughter’s husband, had Deborah all moved in and pretty much set up within three hours. Many hands make light work. Deborah got a bit of a start carrying one of the last boxes, when she stumbled up the backstairs. She thought she saw someone odd hiding in the gangway, but the man turned his back towards her and ran up to the far back porch door and let himself in. She was relieved to know that he at least lived there but thought that something wasn’t quite right with him - he scurried with an uneasy gait. The box Deborah was carrying got a little tousled and popped open. She didn’t notice that one of her daughter’s tiny treasures fell out just through the stairs to the basement area. It was a multi-green beaded hair clip specially made for a Mother’s Day long gone. They all made matching hair clips. They all wore them that Mother’s Day when they went out after their visit to church. They went for brunch at a nice restaurant. The girls had kiddy cocktails while Deborah’s husband had about two pitchers-full of bottomless mimosas… Deborah pretended not to notice, but she wanted... longed for just one day OFF duty.
On Deborah’s first night in her new place, after everyone was gone, she had thought about Gladys’ daughters. They had come but not her own daughters. Deborah reasoned that they were away at school and had to give all their attention to their new life… but to the chagrin of leaving their mom to go it all alone. They too had become Absent When Needed Most. It was a little embarrassing...
Deborah went to bed cloaked in dark thoughts - not dreams, exhausted, but couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned... listening to the new sounds of emptiness,... silence; a car driving down the alley, a cat yowling incessantly from heat, the old man yelling at someone in that unknown language - it almost sounded as if he were stuttering… Then there was a loud crash. Someone had bumped into something and a metal pot or bowl fell, with utensils.The quiet woman was speaking patiently, but in an imploring tone. She sounded like she was speaking to someone other than the old man, because the old man was louder and angrier. Deborah imagined him spitting as he shouted, smelling of smoke and coughing in between his yelling. Deborah could just make out muffled sounds of the third person yowling like the cat - maybe it was the cat…
Everyone wanted something,...
...but no one was satisfied.
Deborah cried quietly at first into her pillow, then the uncontrollable sobs came. The gut wrenching sobs that gave way to dry heaves. She could not breathe with her face wrapped in her pillow. She got up and sat on the floor with her back to the bed. She held onto her knees and tried to bury her head... and cried. She didn’t notice that the outside world had quieted and all there was, was her weeping, sorrowfully, mournfully.
Deborah woke the next morning, not having dreamt anything that she thought worth remembering… She put on her clothes from the day before and went out for a run. She had no idea why nor where….Just away. The sun had not yet woken. It was the muted grey haze of the dark ugly hours of the morning, when newspapers were delivered from beat-up cars; by people who were trying hard to earn a few more honest dollars to see them through to the next paycheck. Deborah didn’t care. She fit in - all too well - she didn’t miss a beat in this new dance. She was full of pain from life, from sleeping on the floor, moving, age, abandonment, burden, guilt, shame. She didn’t know what compelled her to rise up and move, but she did.
Deborah figured running must be a good thing - so many people did it everywhere... She thought - hoped she could run out of her body and just - run away, to her dreams, or at least to a place that offered answers, settlement, a different quiet - peace…, a meaningful purpose that offered fulfillment. Could she ever have something that inevitably was so highly valued that somehow she never could afford to have it?
Had she not paid the high cost?
What good, what peace could be had now - in the wake of such a disaster as her life?
Deborah ran.
Deborah ran into the quiet woman’s brother one evening. He had just put out garbage and had come from the basement after cleaning up along the stairs. He found what he thought were treasures that had blown or fallen into their area. She jumped at least a foot back and started to scream, but nothing came out. She was startled. He was too - Deborah had scared him. He usually came out to dump garbage when there was no chance of running into people, but with the new tenant, he had a new schedule to learn - hers. He stuttered and gestured and was clumsy in his retreat as he ran up his stairs to where the old man stood watching as he smoked. He kicked at the young man as he stumbled into their apartment. Deborah immediately felt awful, when she saw how the old man treated the young man. She tried to excuse herself, but the old man just seemed to yell at her and then turned his mean-spirited attention back to the young man - Deborah presumed his son. The son was afflicted.
Deborah went for a run every morning. She got up early, by the dawn’s early light;....before the city sounds came crashing into her head, before she was coherent and reality faced her through the looking glass. She ran just to burn off energy from the sleepless nights and sobbing - every night. She was used to being alone, but now she was alone in a foreign environment. An environment that felt like another dimension of a life she had no hopes of navigating. In this altered space, she saw glimpses of what she had, fragmented pieces of a life she lived, like the green beaded hair clip. She also brought with her, into the new life, a framed drawing that hung on the wall that one of the girls drew when they were in second or third grade. These were the scribbles of a child - the task must have been to draw your family. You could tell that the house was drawn first, then the grass and fence then the people. The house had a bigger than life front door and a window with a simple cross pane. On the surface, it looked inviting. Smudged colors. However, there were weirdly angled drawn steps, lots of steps that led to the door, (they would be very difficult to navigate). There was a picket fence across the front - a border fence, covering about two thirds of the drawing from the bottom of the paper - up. The flowers are also on the inside of the yard with the grass. The mom has two little girls, on either side of her, in each of her hands. They all have triangular dresses - they all match, like paper doll cut-outs - even the mom looked to be one of the girls, but she was bigger and in the middle…, but they were on the outside of the fence... The dad was off to the side, by the car - half of a car behind a different fence - chain-linked - like he’s going off to work, but he’s just a stick figure and his back was to everyone. You see the back of his head, no face, only scribbled hair. He didn’t have any feet or hands and really no clothes... The yellow sun was shining brightly in the corner with blue colored clouds. M - shaped birds flew up in the sky…
‘Why did I have this framed and why did I keep it?’
There was the pearl necklace - seed pearls - they didn’t have any value. They never got planted in oysters to grow real pearls, but one of the girls would want them, so they came into this new space to have, until she couldn’t hold them any longer.
Deborah kept her mom’s doilies from her mother, supposing one of the girls would surely want this piece of family history, to be reminded of family and one's head being the place that knowledge and wisdom sprouts from - magically - without a point of reference.
Deborah ran like there was no tomorrow...
The crying at night, the cat yowling, the old man yelling, the clashing of pots and pans … had become the song of sorrows and initiated the awkwardness of the dance of the night... The slow pain-filled dance of the night until the endless grey had appeared in the wake of a new day...
After Deborah’s first run, and a few weeks after that evening meeting of the landlord and son; Deborah ran into the quiet woman . She was in the gangway with a man. It was dusk, so only because of the familiarity of the quiet woman did Deborah make her out. The man that was with her had his back to Deborah. He didn’t see her. He and the quiet woman were tenderly hugging. Enveloped, but gently - like fitting one’s hand into a familiar glove. Deborah smiled and thought - love - something so beautiful in such a god forsaken place. Deborah must have made a noise, and startled the two - the quiet woman shooed her man behind her and appeared relieved when she saw that it was only Deborah…
Secret love…
Dreams.
Later, Deborah thought how sad to have something so beautiful as love, that could not be shared or shown to the world - proclaiming - there is yet hope.
The quiet woman saw Deborah perusing a newspaper as she sat on her back porch. She still couldn’t figure out how she saw her reading the want ads from across her back porch area, but she politely mentioned that the library was a nice quiet place to sit and collect one's thoughts. On Deborah’s run the next day she found the old building - archaic, unused and appearing abandoned. She went in and found an old woman, the librarian, behind the desk, who promptly assumed she was coming about the advertised job offer. The old woman told Deborah that it was just to shelve books and light computer work that she hadn’t a clue as to what to do. Deborah tried to explain that she was just new to the area and was looking around, but the old woman seemed to be hard of hearing and physically weighed down as well as eccentrically absent-minded. She seemed harmless and no one was around, so when the old woman asked if she wanted the job, after she had walked Deborah around pointing out her favorite relics for nearly an hour, she said, ‘Yes!’
Deborah was surprised to hear herself say “yes”, and the old woman was thrilled, exclaiming that, “she was an answer to prayer. A real godsend”.
Deborah thought, ‘she was someone’s answer to a prayer?’ She got a job! No references, no paperwork, no resume… and dressed in a running outfit and old running shoes. She didn’t even know how much she’d be paid. It didn’t matter, she felt like she was getting the better deal. Deborah thought it was surely unconventional, but still, more importantly, it was something regular to do - routine, but purposeful. She was to report for 9 in the morning and work till lunch; Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. It was already Friday, and into the noon hour, (after the tour), so the old woman told her to come back on Monday. She disappeared into an office with a beautifully carved door, as she scratched her head with a pencil she had pulled out from her white and gray dreads that looked like thick coils of wool for rugs … There were books all around, - on the circulation desk, a round entry table with a lacy table runner, a few full book carts. Deborah was inwardly pleased and she thought it odd, but she felt happy. She had not felt happy in such a long time she almost felt lighter. She found herself returning a smile to an older man with a little girl who were walking into the library as she was exiting. Deborah thought for a second of calling Gladys, but long conversations tired her and she sometimes didn’t sound very lucid with intervals of broken speech as well as thought. Deborah figured all the various medications were definitely taking a toll on her dear friend. Still she had wanted to call someone and share her joy, so reached out to Milly, but at the time she was constantly being interrupted by someone needing her attention since she was at work. It had been about three months since her move. She didn’t text or call her friends that often. She felt she had used her friend-in-need-card to its limit, so she didn’t bother them with the same old no-news-is-good-news, but this time she had really good news. Something good had happened.
Something changed within her.
Deborah continued her running but always arrived to work a bit before nine, ready for whatever was needed. After a couple of months Deborah managed to shelve all of the books that were cluttering the vestibule, the circulation area and had begun to tidy massive oak study tables. The librarian, pleased as punch, exclaimed that the library was looking more and more like a real place to come and study and mentioned that they had even begun to have a regular visitor. A sweet precocious little girl. The librarian, a bit of a busy body, had learned that the mother of the child had died five years earlier and that she and her father had moved to the area to be closer to family. The father was older - too old for having such a young child, according to her thinking, but she figured that maybe the child was from a previous union of the deceased wife… She would find out, which gave her something to do rather than covertly attempting to find out information about Deborah - not that she had anything to hide…
Deborah simply thought of her life as being empty, void of details that weren’t manufactured. Deborah admitted to herself that she had lived a life that was a lie - in truth it was a bit of a nightmare. No one wanted to acknowledge the truth - it was too painful, so like her husband, she too sedated herself with living a lie - telling herself, ‘all was well’ - when it really wasn’t. It’s just for too long she didn’t know that she was living a lie, a fake dream, but when the lights came on… Life was a jolting, blinding harshness! No, she didn’t think the librarian needed to walk into that light…
A story best not read.
Deborah met the little girl one day as she was running to check in with the librarian. She found the little girl looking at books on philosophy. Surprised at this child’s selection, Deborah asked if she was lost. She said she wasn’t but was looking for a book about a boy that she had listened to by video. The boy had supposedly died but had come back to life. Deborah found the book and looked at the picture of the boy. He looked happy and at peace - so did the little girl, who was probably about a few years older than the boy. Deborah wanted to say something to the little girl, since she did know that her mother was dead, so she asked quietly, if she missed her mom? The little girl, thumbing through the book, stopped and looked at Deborah and said she did, but knew that her mom believed in God and that Heaven was real for her, so she was there. The little girl sighed and returned to the book. Deborah thought she should excuse herself, having felt like she was intruding, but the girl stopped again and took Deborah’s hand. The little girl told her that her mom had said, it was ok to feel sad… and that sometimes crazy stuff happens, like puzzle pieces that don’t seem to fit, but eventually every piece has a purpose, everything does fit, it just takes time to see the sense of it all. Deborah just stared at the little girl. She was speechless.
Deborah was brought back into the world by the call of the librarian…
The librarian wanted Deborah to turn her attention to the library’s antiquated computer system. She wanted to advertise the library as being a discovery place that was constantly evolving and heard about QR Codes as a means to this end. Deborah was to generate such a code and so do away with fliers that were left around town on counters and eventually discarded. The librarian envisioned a permanent code being posted at grocery stores, bus stops and laundromats... that would provide a source site that would be updated weekly or monthly. Deborah thought it was a grandiose idea, but supposed it would keep her busy since she had shelved all of the books and had taken to gardening in the front of the building, adding geraniums and ivy. Deborah thought that the library was a neat place. The library was a place to be quiet and reflect, especially since very few people came to the library - seemingly only those seeking solace. It had become her place. Deborah thought it was funny turning to something so old, and antiquated, but somehow vaguely familiar. Deborah just couldn’t put her finger on it, but, when looking for something that offered comfort, she just remembered feeling safe and protected around books and the dreams that were held within the pages... So, wanting to share her place, because it didn’t seem right keeping it all to herself; she set to work practicing on her QR Code tattoo, that she had gotten on a dare with her friends, decades ago. Her code was simple with just her name and names of her daughters, but with research she discovered how she could build onto the source website that her name generated…
But what would she add?…
The librarian was thrilled with all that Deborah had discovered. Deborah generated a basic source QR Code for the library that directed the user to the library’s website; from there the librarian could update the information easily, but this too, she insisted that Deborah manage. The sweet old woman hugged Deborah when she printed and presented her with the image and showed her how it all worked. She was so overcome she started to cry. Deborah felt a little embarrassed because she didn’t see her help as being something so big, but the librarian just hugged her and said this was her purpose - making life not so overwhelming. She confided in Deborah about how she thought herself a bit of a scatterbrain but working at the library was all she knew. The librarian knew that the library board was thinking about selling the building for condos, so she was determined to keep the library alive somehow. She knew that something had to be done to bring people back into the space, to see its value. To see that it was more than just a place for collecting dust and mites and dreams undreamt because no one ever knew their stories... Deborah hugged back. It felt good to be touched and appreciated so deeply. She cried a little too, and could have gone full blown as she did most nights, but this time it was different - these were happy tears. Still, she choked them back as she saw the older man with his daughter coming into the library. The librarian saw the little girl and immediately whisked her off telling her about books by C. S. Lewis and thought that she would enjoy them with her dad… That left Deborah standing awkwardly with “the dad”... But the older man made conversation easy and even pleasant - he often did. Everytime he and his daughter came into the library he seemed to somehow seek an opportunity to listen to Deborah as she used more than her allotted daily words. This time, Deborah offered small talk about the QR Code and why the librarian was so emotional, perhaps with too many words, but he didn’t seem to mind. He had some background in tech and offered to be of any assistance if she ever needed. Deborah smiled and so did the older man…
For the first time in a long time Deborah felt good about herself - at least that’s what she thought she felt...She was so unaccustomed to feeling ok about anything, let alone thinking about how she felt. She felt she was the problem at all times - making matters worse somehow - at least that’s what she always heard from her daughters and husband. As she came in through the back alleyway, she ran into another tender moment of the quiet woman and her friend. He had just placed a necklace over her head and was looking at her with such affection. Deborah felt awful for intruding. She was talking with her eldest daughter on her cell phone, because she wanted to share her happy moments and accomplishments with her daughters but her eldest daughter was upset with her sister for missing some meeting or other. Deborah wanted to make light of it because of her mood, but it became very apparent that the eldest daughter wanted to rant on and on about it, and so ruin the happy mood. Deborah decided that she didn’t want to be a part of the pity party and was attempting to bring the conversation to an end as she entered the alleyway, disturbing the tender moment. The old man heard Deborah talking and came out on his porch. He too seemed to want to dump on someone - he was always unhappy it seemed, but unfortunately now; he saw his daughter with her friend… Which then started a slew of unintelligible words and stutterings. The quiet woman, with resolve, faced off with her father. Her friend stood by her side, not being able to respond because he had no idea what was being spoken. He looked bewildered but unwavering - strong and ready to protect should any harm seem to come. Deborah, not wanting to be involved in their family matters, as she listened to her daughter now yelling - so she had confusion and anger on both sides of her ears. The old man began pointing at Deborah and yelling. The brother now peeking out of their door looked as if he were about to cry… He seemed to want it all to stop… But, then the old man took notice of him and began plummeting him and shoving him back indoors. The brother beating on his chest began to scream… Deborah’s daughter easily heard the commotion and assumed that her mother had caused a problem and so yelled at her mother all the more.
It only took a moment for Deborah’s happiness to be totally disseminated by people selfishly absorbed with themselves, their wishes, their views of what life should be like. Deborah was not allowed to have her own life - not as a child, as a newlywed, as a mother and now as an widowed empty nester. Deborah went from happy to overwhelmed - crying tears of joy to tears of frustration. She had no idea of what to do, how to fix things, and questioned why she was even a part of any of it. She ran up the stairs into her apartment and pointed out to her daughter that she had no idea what was going on… Explaining to her that she had nothing to do with the argument that she overheard in the background with her neighbors.. She yelled that the world didn’t revolve around her - that she had no control over anything… She yelled at her asking if she ever once considered what she had gone through for them to have some chance at normalcy?… Did she see that she was always there for her and her sister - being both mother and father?… The free rides to college didn’t happen by magic and life was, for the most part, decent and in the end they had a chance at a life…
In the end, Deborah screamed at her daughter, ‘Sucks to be you, I suppose… I did what I thought I was supposed to do. I was there. I was your mom. Why don’t you step outside yourself and consider gratitude!’
With that, her daughter ended the conversation…
There was dead silence on the other end of the line…
There was silence outside…
Night had fallen like a brick.
Deborah cried into her pillow… again. She pleaded for dreams… Her dreams of something different… something more.
She heard the yowling of the cat, but maybe it wasn’t the cat this time, the crashing of the metal bowl, the breaking of a glass, a car leaving down the alley… She woke feeling filled with pain, overwhelming intense gnawing pain from inside out… She rose, put on her running clothes and ran… She ran into the old man. He was around the corner of the flat as she ran down the stairs. She had no choice but to stop as he blocked her way for a moment. He smelled of cigarettes and cheap booze… He looked worse than usual - angry but beat, emotionally spent; like he had carried an enormous weight that caused wounds on his face and shoulders… He still had venom - sting. He sputtered, spitting the words in English, that she was an “old useless and unwanted dog”. His eyes met hers… They both had bloodshot tearfilled eyes.
She ran without much direction. It was a tad earlier and just dark, just before dawn…It was the muted grey haze of the dark ugly hours of the morning... She ran past the library, the geraniums looked nice… a second of comfort. Through the park, around the pond, by the playlot… behind the factory...
Deborah ran longer than usual.
She wanted to run out of her skin… run out of her life.
She wondered if she had done what she was supposed to have done in the wake of her children, her husband, her friends. She wondered if God was ok with what she had done… with what she had tried to do… didn’t do. She figured she had tried to do what was right, but didn’t really consider what was indeed right as far as God… She didn’t really know enough about God to even think what He thought mattered for her life. She had used her head for more than just holding a hat, like mom always told her… and sadly never considered matters of her heart and head.
She thought about the quiet woman, her brother, the older man and his little girl, the librarian. All of them had lives that were so complicated, so full of mess-ups but oddly they seemed to still have what she didn’t... an assurance for tomorrow, a - something better was coming for tomorrow… and that was peace and a joy for the present... although, she had it for a bit the day before… She remembered it…
The sun was up and out and bright, to the east of her… Traffic was picking up… Across the street she heard someone scream… As Deborah ran, for a second she saw the quiet woman’s brother running towards her waving his hand, but then he ran into the light pole and fell down clutching his chest… Deborah ran in his direction, but didn’t notice the truck coming towards her. The truck driver slammed on his breaks but it was too late. Deborah was thrown into the air like a ragdoll into oncoming traffic. She went crashing face first into a car driven by the older man with his daughter. He tried to stop but Deborah went crashing into his windshield. For a second they had all seen each other. Deborah’s face hit the steering wheel upon impact, which then hit the old man on the side of his neck.
For a split second, Deborah saw a blinding light and fell... but landed softly…
So did the older man and so did the quiet woman’s brother, who had gripped something tightly in his hand.
The accident was horrifying and chaotic...
Chloe, the daughter of Mike, the older man, was in an ambulance with a first responder. The airbag had deployed on her side of the car and because of the impact, had broken her nose as well as dislocating her shoulder… She was unconscious and unaware that her father had died upon impact with the force of Deborah’s body coming through the windshield. Deborah was unrecognizable, her face and upper body were badly mangled.
The truck driver had sustained little injury - unlike his rig - they were firm, but not really... He was thoroughly shaken on the inside and was unable to drive for some time. He had never been involved in such a serious accident. He had never seen death up close… He had tried to stop, but he heard the scream and saw the woman out of the corner of his eye... sprinting in front of him… He had the light and was moving at a regular speed, since he had no need to stop at the intersection. His trailer was nearly empty… He was going to pick up his first load of the day… but, the sudden stop jackknifed his rig. He was where he was supposed to be - driving along the street… just doing his job...
Ai had been running towards Deborah to give her a treasure… He had been cleaning the basement stairs and saw the green beaded clip and had fashioned it with bits of wire thread for a tree trunk and made a small bonsai looking tree - it fit inside the palm of his hand. He had wanted to give it to Deborah as a welcome gift, but never did, but today; after last night… He wanted to do something to make her feel better… He felt that she shouldn’t feel so bad - she had done nothing wrong - no one had, except his father, Ku… who was always angry, always bitter. Still, he knew she always cried… Last night she cried more than he did and his heart ached to make her feel something other than the pain she always carried, the pain that weighed her down… Ai had an eye for seeing through people and saw their true emotion. He learned at an early age that there was often a reason behind most emotions… that most people hid away in deep places. This time he had hoped to make a difference...
Ai saw his father talking to Deborah as she left for her run. For a moment he saw that she was more upset and knew that his father had said something unkind… That he had said something that was like a horrid backhanded slap to her face. Ai just wanted to make things right and thought giving Deborah the treasured gift would offer something - cheer. He retrieved his gift and slipped out the front door - unnoticed by his sister, Li Jing… He was successful, but had to run - which he wasn’t too good at.
Ai’s mother had taken thalidomide when she was pregnant with him. Her husband had insisted because he was told it would help with her morning sickness and he wanted her to continue to work. When she was pregnant with Li Jing, she was fairly ill, but kept working since it was her first pregnancy - she didn’t know much of anything other than work and avoiding her husband’s temper. They had just arrived in the States and he had much to prove to his family back in the mainland. He was so disappointed when Li Jing was born - a girl, but her mother thought her beautiful and kept her swaddled. She sang quiet songs she had learned from the missionary who poured into her at the school she attended for just a short time.
So Li Jing learned to be quiet always, but was very smart. Her father had lied about her age and got her in school when she was just four years old, saying that she was a dwarf, but she was indeed a bright child and took in everything. Her father ignorantly thought if only his wife could produce a boy, he would be even smarter and so could assist him in his achievement for monumental monetary success… He was bitter and disappointed after several miscarriages and finally after seven years of waiting for “The Boy”; Ai was born. The delivery was long and very difficult. It left their mom unable to work at the pace she once had. Their father drank more and sometimes went after the tiny baby, but somehow the mom would defend and fight for her son… She did so for five years, during which time she taught him how to be useful with the flipper-like hands he had… The joints in his hips were malformed so while walking was achieved, running was painful, still Ai equaled his sister in sensitivity, was precocious and gentle spirited. Their mother had given them this through her singing - hope in darkness. Then one day after Li Jing and Ai had returned home from school - their father said their mother was gone - she had died. They saw her that morning. She kissed them tenderly, told them how much she loved them as she fretted over their clothes, remarked how big they were... Their father drank even more, but Li Jing assumed the management of the family business. She worked after school and on the weekends… and so were their lives until the accident.
Li Jing received the call just as she was leaving for her classes. She had been recruited to teach basic science at the community college once she graduated from the local four year college, at nineteen years of age - she was a double major. Receiving such high honors, she was still incredibly humble. The only attendee to her graduation ceremony was Ai. They were taken out to a luncheon celebration by Amasa, a young professor that had taken an interest in the sweet quiet young woman. It was Amasa who arranged for Li Jing’s teaching job at the community college, so Ai was able to take art classes for free… That was a tad over three years ago…
Li Jing stood motionless in disbelief after the call. Her father Ku met her teary eyes and looked around for Ai. His eyes darted about their small confined space, the kitchen, the bathroom where the door was ajar, the living room sofa where the boy slept… He saw that Ai’s tattered jacket was gone off the hook at the kitchen door… From where he stood he could see that the front door was slightly open... He suddenly felt confused with a slow building wave of remorse… His spirit was grieved and he had no idea of why or how… Ku just felt he had been an unsuspecting player in a game of life and his moves had set in motion something awful... He melted in a nearby chair. Tears rolled down his face.
Now shocked… Li Jing asked bitterly, “You? Love him now? You shed tears of a father - Now!?”
Li Jing didn’t care that her father heard her call Amasa ...She called and quickly explained that she needed him to cancel her classes… There had been an accident and then left for the hospital, where her brother had been taken. Amasa told her he would meet her and made the necessary calls, canceling his classes as well.
There was so much confusion and shock and chaos at the scene. The first responders were dealing with a child’s injury and three deceased persons. One being unidentifiable. Ai always had identification, so they were able to contact Li Jing. He was taken to the local hospital suffering from cardiac arrest - and head injuries… Which was the most visible and people thought was the greater problem for him... When Ai saw Deborah running, he turned and ran head first into the light pole, and then fell forcefully, hitting the back of his head violently on the ground. He had screamed out simultaneously because he suffered cardiac arrest - from hard running... but no one thought to check for a heart condition after seeing the blood coming from the front and back of his head. No one knew… The thalidomide that his mother had taken, affected his heart but he never complained of the pain. His father never took him for regular doctor visits. He worked him, because he could and needed free labor. His mother had taught him to use his hands well. Ku, had the mindset that children were born to be of service and bring honor to their parents. The boy never complained… Not even Li Jing suspected Ai’s weakened heart… She cared for her brother as much as an older sibling could, who was made to grow-up too soon. She too was tired, but pushed on to do the right and honorable thing she thought children were supposed to do. Obey and bring honor .
When Li Jing found Ai in the ER, he was already gone…She instinctively went for his hand... He still clutched the green beaded clip he made into a mini bonsai. She didn’t notice that Amasa had come up behind her. He caught her as she was collapsing to her knees. He just held her… as she let years of hurt for Ai out... For her mom… for herself. She could finally just be herself… Amasa cradled her and rocked her like a child… Through the curtain crack, through her tears, Li Jing saw a little girl… Looking dazed. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was packed with gauze… Li Jing could tell she was sedated… still the girl seemed to look directly at her… tears ran from them both… Neither seemed to understand anything that had happened. It was just too much. It could not be real… It had to be a horrifying nightmare.
Chloe wondered where her dad was, but everything was reeling around her… Her shoulder and arm didn’t work. Her mouth felt full of tubes… She couldn’t hear too well either… Her face didn’t feel like her face at all. She felt like she was wearing her princess mask from last Halloween. Her dad had always called her his princess and joked with her sometimes; talking to her in a fake British accent while pretending to be his lady’s servant... The mask was hard and had cut out holes for the eyes and a crown with dangly green jewels hung round about the crown. Chloe played the part of a grown-up lady well. Even though she was a little girl, she tried to put on a front of being more mature than what her age dictated. She kinda liked having folks say that she was so grown-up for her age… but this time, she didn’t feel grown-up. Chloe felt younger than her nine years. She felt alone and hurt and in pain... She wanted to cry for her dad … then she had thoughts of her mom, but she knew that was pointless - no one was coming… She knew she was alone...
As for Chole, the authorities called her father’s brother, Philip - the next of kin… Philip saw his brother in the ER section that was cordoned off for serious cases. They thought they could save him… But he was gone before they rushed him to the hospital. Their efforts were valiant but… he was gone at the scene. The security guard took Philip to the area after he showed his identification. Lucy went to Chloe. She was the next of kin, as the aunt, but by marriage. She was in shock. She was thinking there was no blood between this little girl and her family at all… She knew the history - the story behind the story of how her brother-in-law married the younger woman when Chloe was barely four. Truly, this child was orphaned. Lucy was looking at the floor as she walked. She was in shock, thinking about how she and her husband were going to raise yet another child… at their age… She was so very tired herself from living, from surviving… She didn’t feel like she had had much joy, but now with retirement she was beginning to have hope that there was something else beside the never-ending drone of machines and work and raising a family on a shoestring… Philip was a good man, but he never seemed to reach his potential and fell short, but was always so forgiving. He was made out of the mold of, ” til death do you part…” So when the storms blew, he buckled down and dug in all the more and stayed and never gave up. Lucy had hoped with retirement for the both of them - they might be able to discover all that she had thought she missed, with being a mother and wife and working outside of their home… She thought they could enjoy life - finally just the two of them...Then she saw Chloe and she broke… She knew she could not turn this child out literally onto the streets… Then Lucy began to panic at what her Philip was going through… having to identify his twin brother… Life was not supposed to be this way. The male nurse, having gone through this a few times, knew what to expect, but he too was somewhat shocked. While a fair portion of Mike's face and neck were horribly bruised and bloodied, he too could see that it was like looking at a mirror - one that was badly broken, the other emotionally broken, crushed in spirit and weeping over his brother. They both had worn the same sweater vest and polo shirt. The nurse was stunned for a few seconds, but then recovered and took charge and followed protocol… closing the hazel green eyes of Mike, as he looked for a second at Philip’s, seeing tear filled hazel green eyes...
But with Deborah, her hands and face were shredded by the glass, because of the impact of the steering wheel, her mouth was all but ripped from her face. Identifying her was not going to be - easy. Her body had already been moved to the morgue. She was beyond cut - shredded more accurately, bruised and mangled. She had no identification on her, not even her cell phone - only her apartment key. Only Ai and Mike had known who she was as she had known them. Chloe saw her for a split second, but she would not remember until some time later…
When the medical examiner arrived he was astonished that he was not able to even get an imprint of her teeth. Breaking through the windshield and the steering wheel was protecting Deborah’s identity… Her daughters would not come looking for her, especially after the call. They rarely spoke with their mother unless they needed something. Deborah’s body laid as it were - on ice for a week. The head examiner had hoped that someone would claim the body… But no one did. So the shell laid quiet, still, at rest… Seemingly so peaceful, so unaware of the chaos it went through to get to this place.
After a second week someone higher up decided to have the body cremated to clear the docks… The night shift had that duty. One of the fellas, Chuck, was sloppy; he only cared for the satisfaction of his stomach. He sat around and delegated his responsibilities to a younger man, Amasa, who was working hard to send money to his family back in Jordan. Working at the morgue was Amasa’s part-time job. He was troubled and saddened by the death of his friend, Li Jing’s brother, Ai. Added to this, Chuck had pushed off his work load onto him again, while he sat stuffing his face with nachos while talking loudly on the phone with one of his female exploits… Amasa had to bathe the body as best he could - Chuck usually found something else to do, rather than help… However, it was at this time that Amasa saw the tattoo - a QR Code. He took a picture of it, but didn’t have time to read the information. He put the body in their standard cardboard box… which always disturbed him. He felt this was so undignified. This was someone’s daughter… maybe someone’s wife, or mom… Where was this poor woman’s family? Amasa left the body for a bit - to check the url… He was only gone for about fifteen minutes. He found out that the woman had a name - Deborah, and two daughters… She wrote what seemed to be a letter to them. When he returned, her body was gone. Chuck had finished his nachos and his degradation of the woman he had been talking to and decided to finish his job, the one he told Amasa to do… He cremated Deborah. Amasa felt sick. It was pointless to even speak with Chuck about what he found out… He collected the remains and punched out for the night…
Li Jing had returned to her teaching schedule after caring for the services for Ai. She was so confused and overwhelmed… she could only focus on her loss… Before the accident she had just begun to see herself as someone other than a care provider. She felt this role was totally lost to her as Ai had become rather independent since graduating high school early... He was so talented, and so sensitive. She knew their mother would be proud… Ai’s talent had made their father, Ku, only see him as weak. He often told him he'd never had a purpose… Ku never saw the beauty and care that his son gave to all things fragile.
Still, Li Jing could not understand why he was at the scene of such a horrific accident that day… Her only clue was the green beaded tree that he had made…
Amasa met Li Jing at the library after their classes the next day after Deborah’s cremation. He had red roses for her… She cried. Lorainna, the librarian, came by and gave Li Jing a hug. “He gave me flowers too… But I got the daisies… Roses are for his love”.
This made Li Jing blush and then chuckle. Lorainna talked about her sadness concerning Ai and how great he was with art - how he could make anything out of junk. Li Jing mentioned about the green beaded tree that he had in his hand at the time of his death and how she wondered why he was even at the scene of the accident… This is when Amasa shared what he found concerning the QR Code.
Both Li Jing and Lorianna were taken aback… They said nothing as Amasa showed them the picture of the QR Code on his phone and then took them to the source site with the letter to Deborah’s daughters. The QR Code was Deborah’s only identification. Lorianna began to cry quietly as did Li Jing.
Lorianna said she had called Deborah’s cell Wednesday, almost a week after the accident. The library was closed for a four day weekend - Friday through Monday. She hadn’t followed-up because she was upset about Ai. Lorianna knew Deborah lived in Li Jing’s father’s rental, but didn’t think it was proper to ask questions given that she thought they were in mourning. She meant to put in a missing person’s report but didn’t know if Deborah had any family or where she had come from. Lorianna knew Deborah had spoken with Mike and thought that he might know her background, but he was in that terrible accident, but had no idea that they were all at the scene and were oddly connected.
Li Jing realized that her brother had been running after Deborah to give her - his treasure… How many times had she heard Deborah crying through the night… She too was exhausted after battling her father about Ai and had prayed that all the cries would just be quieted, including her own… Ai was working to do just that… Li Jing hadn’t even noticed that Deborah wasn’t crying anymore… She hadn’t even noticed that she wasn’t coming or going… She cried for Deborah. They all did… It was Amasa who moved to contact the authorities.
A policeman came, took everyone’s statement. Took a printed copy of the QR Code and said he would contact the daughters. He considered the case closed - however tragic - what else could be done. After the policeman left, Li Jing asked Amasa to print a few copies of the QR Code in a shade of green and a bit bigger than the size of a postage stamp, about double the size… She had an idea.
Li Jing noticed that her father seemed to age 20 years in the span of the now three weeks since the passing of his son. He didn’t say much to his daughter. He oddly went about doing the jobs that Ai did, but there was no yelling, no throwing of metal pots, no slamming of doors or knocking poor Ai down. Her father just moved through the day in a daze taking no notice of her at all… He was missing what he had… Li Jing hadn’t made the connection that her father had… the connection that resulted in his utter shame and dishonor. Li Jing thought he was oddly grieving what he had in Ai.
And he was.
Deeply.
When Li Jing spoke on the phone to Amasa about trying to figure why Ai had left the house that day, Ku knew. When Li Jing had gotten the call from the hospital, he knew. He knew that his son had gone to right what evil he had spoken to Deborah earlier that day. He saw his son at the back door after Deborah ran off. Ku paid him no mind and so had gone around the corner to find his drinking buddies to boast about his triumph over his stupid tenant, but it was late for them. They had just gone to bed after being up drinking and smoking through the night. Ku didn’t drink or smoke much now… His friends had left him alone, figuring the old man must feel lonely with just his daughter left… What good could she be to him… They joked insensitively about Ai not being much of a son to him - given how he beat him all of the time. Ku was reliving how badly he treated his wife and his son. He had seen so much of his wife in Ai and so in his twisted mind, blamed him for causing her death, when Ai lived…
Martha and Nora were in shock, but it was Martha who took the death personally - as an affront. She felt it par for the course for both her parents to exit stage left. She became even more consumed with herself… Her life. Her pleasures, especially since she believed she missed out on so much growing up… Poor thing…
Nora on the other hand left school and went to her mother’s apartment. She contacted her mom’s friends but told them that she would handle her belongings… Which she wasn’t sure why she thought she would… But she just felt that she was supposed to go, that she needed to go… It was her mom.
When Nora arrived, she shocked Li Jing. Nora looked like a younger Deborah, but with trendy clothes and glasses. She wore her hair differently, but there was no mistaking that she was Deborah's daughter - the younger. Martha looked like their father, but without the perky disposition that alcohol produced - she was driven to succeed to untold levels of perfection and so was sharp in every way. This drive was one of the reasons why Nora opted to collect their mother’s belongings. Nora could not keep up with the constant disapproval from Martha. She felt Martha was worse than their mother, because there was no love in her encouragement - at least not for her. Martha was patient with others, but with Nora she was embarrassingly short tempered… So Nora seized this peculiar opportunity to run away and deal with whatever lay before her… It couldn’t be worse than what was behind her… She was clueless, without direction, without purpose… She didn’t have a sense of who she was…
But looking back at Li Jing she felt that there were strands of a rope being thrown to her… She felt glad that she was recognized and that someone connected her with her mother.
It was now four weeks past the accident.
No one had gone into Deborah’s apartment.
She was always neat and tidy - the bed was even made.
Nora initially turned down Li Jing’s offer for help, but told her that she just needed some time to go through things… She figured that she would be donating the majority of the items, but wanted to see if there were any treasures to be found. Li Jing smiled politely and left her alone. Nora stood in the living room after the door closed and looked around and looked for a pillow to use to muffle her cries. Nora was flooded with memories, thoughts, feelings, questions and sadness. She felt herself too young to have to go through the death of both parents. This type of thing was supposed to happen when one was older with kids of your own and you bury your kids' grandparents - like her mom did… She felt ill equipped for the task - for the thoughts. Since she had arrived late at night, she just went to bed… Her mother’s pillow smelled like her, the perfume she always wore. It gave some comfort, so sleep came quickly and sweetly.
The next morning Li Jing brought up tea and sweet bread. As they drank their tea, she mentioned that Deborah had a part-time job at the local library not too far from the apartment and that she might have a few belongings there. She thought meeting with Lorianna would offer some life to Deborah’s story. Li Jing reminisced that she had suggested that Deborah go there because it was a nice quiet place to simply think and that Ai had often enjoyed working with Lorianna. Nora was very appreciative and figured that it would be a good place to start - in a peaceful place.
As soon as she walked in the door later that day, Lorianna just about dropped over, when she saw Nora, she called her Deborah… Nora, feeling a bit awkward, looked away and turned to leave, because she was about to cry, but then there was a little girl, Chloe, walking in the door…
Their eyes locked.
Within a few seconds, Lorianna was at Nora’s side and was telling her how happy she was to meet her, but then couldn’t help noticing that all three of them were staring at each other. Chloe broke the silence and explained that her Aunt Lucy dropped her off to get some books… but then turned her attention to Nora.
“Hi my name is Chloe. I knew your mom… You look just like her but younger, a lot younger” Chloe said, with a little giggle of embarrassment.
“Yeah, I get that all of the time. My name is Nora.”
Chloe exclaimed, “Your mom was nice and treated me like I was a kid”
To which Nora looked puzzled…
“No, no, no… I mean, your mom didn’t expect me to be a little adult. She treated me like the kid that I am - I didn’t need to know everything around her. My dad liked her. At least, he was relaxed around her and didn’t act weird and geeky”. Chloe said.
“Oh, did your dad know my mom?” Nora asked
“Yeah… But he’s…” Chloe trailed off...
Chloe couldn’t finish the thought and Lorianna directed her to picture books that were beneath her level, but provided the “fluff” to busy the young girl's mind for some time, so Lorianna could explain the connection.
After the condensed version, Nora was overwhelmed with more grief, but for Chloe. She saw that the two of them had odd common connections - both were orphaned. Both had a parent that kept life going as best as they could, however Chloe seemed somewhat more stable despite her young years. At nine, Nora was totally clueless about her father’s drinking because her mom was the shield.
Nora went over to Chloe and asked about the book she was looking at… Chloe wasn’t so interested in the pictures at all, but noticed the color and tones of the pictures. She explained that she was looking at the spaces under and around the shapes. Nora was glad that she was able to explain to Chloe that she was studying the negative spaces and that she thought it was neat that Chloe was so observant of the shapes… They got into a mini art discussion which was successful in diverting the tension for both of them. Chloe was thankful and smiled up at Nora and then gave her a hug… a long hug. Lorianna had to turn away because she didn’t want them to see her cry and bring back the tension…
Nora hugged Chloe back. They both seemed to melt together… like sisters… but quite different. Nora’s hair was shoulder length, thick soft dark brown curls, but held back from her face with an embroidered orange and blue green headband. She was dressed in a mint green tank top tee and blue and green flannel shirt and jeans. Chloe wore a black jumper, and white blouse, like for a private school and Mary Jane shoes with green knee-high socks dotted with small red airplanes. Her hair was coarse but in three long thick cornrow braids that went down her back. At one time you could tell they were neatly plaited, but now they were fuzzy… Both their eyes were hazel. They both wore horn-rimmed glasses. Nora’s skin was a carob brown, while Chloe’s was light topaz.
As Nora hugged Chloe she noticed a small framed diorama of sorts, on a mini display stand on the circulation desk. What caught her eye was the green beaded tree. It looked like one of the clips that she and her sister and mom had made for a Mother’s Day, years ago... Lorianna followed Nora’s line of sight and told her that Li Jing’s brother had it in his hand at the time of his death and they figured he wanted to give it to her mother, which explained why he was at the scene of the accident. Li Jing had the little tree mounted with a picture of her mother’s QR Code - that it oddly worked together given the pixelated look of the green beads. Nora explained that the beaded part was from a hair clip that she and/or her sister or mom had made for a long passed Mother’s Day.
Nora was silent for a moment. Chloe stood by her side and quietly suggested that she scan it… Nora wasn’t sure that it would work since it had the tree in front but Lorianna produced a copy of the code.
The library was empty. Nora sat down at a table and scanned the code. Chloe thought she should make herself scarce and left to look at books in the other wing… Lorianna, knew that Deborah wrote a letter to her daughters and so took up her post behind the circulation desk - ready to be of assistance...
The first site gave basic information - she figured this is how the police finally identified her mom, but in the corner there was a connecting link…
It opened to a picture of her and her sister with their mom - smiling. Nora was about Chloe’s age - about nine and her sister was about thirteen. They had the green beaded clips in their hair… Mom had always been good about going with the program and on the surface life looked good. Dad must have taken the picture.
Dear girls, my daughters,
You are young women now, but you will always be my girls…the dreams I dared to dream.
I work at a library where I had to work on developing a QR Code system of sorts for disseminating information and events easily. Having no real experience on the subject other than this crazy tattoo, I thought I’d practice with what I had. So this site is a blog of sorts for you… to you. I thought I’d send you a picture of the code and that way we could keep up with one another.
I know what you’re thinking, “Mom, why not just write an email or send a text or call?” Like I said, I had to practice, so I thought this would be fun - maybe… more so for me, I guess.
There’s a man named Mike who comes into the library with his daughter, Chole. He has offered to help. He has some background with tech stuff. I suppose that’s his job, but he seems nice enough. His daughter is a deep thinker for her age. She seems different from him. She definitely doesn’t really look like him except for the eyes a bit. He has nice hazel-green eyes and they both wear glasses. Mike is more my age. His wife, Chloe’s mom, died. I don’t know why or how. Lorianna, the head librarian, said she’d find out more information. I think she wants to play matchmaker. She likes seeing people happy, but more… She likes to see that folks have some peace and joy.
Lorianna is like everyone’s mom or grandma. She’s what I wish you both had in a grandma. Someone sweet and the type that would smother you in kisses and hugs and give you chocolates and let you play to your heart's content. She’d encourage you to be yourselves but be there to help you see your potential…
A lot, unlike my mother, who seemed to be okay with a carbon copy of herself. I didn’t see much joy coming from her...
That’s what I see that these people have, (who are now seemingly intertwined in my life now),... joy - in the face of all kinds of adversities. I told you about Mike and Chloe, but they seem at peace with what has been dealt - especially Chloe. She seems to believe - truly believe that her mom is in Heaven. She even seems to get that it’s okay to be sad, but that it’s not a place to live or hide… So, her father encourages her to explore but within the safety of his care.
Li Jing is the older daughter of my landlord Ku. He has a younger son, Ai - he seems off, physically. Their mom is not around. Lorianna told me that she died suddenly one day and that’s about when she started seeing the children regularly. I think Ai has some undetected health issues, but what do I know, I’m no nurse. He is sensitive and very gentle, moves slow for his age. He comes into the library and helps out with whatever art stuff needs to be done. Ai is invaluable to Lorianna - she’s like a mom to him. And to think I was afraid of him.The first time I saw him he was hiding in the gangway, from his dad, I suppose. I nearly dropped a box of treasures I was keeping for you two. I think something popped out, but I was too tired to go looking around… I was so stressed the day I moved in…
I was more afraid of their dad Ku. He is boorish and seems to be an empty shell of a person… never appreciating the gold he has in front of him and he smells of cigarettes and bad booze - he reminds me of your dad, but he’s worse - if that were possible. While your dad feasted on his own wounds, Ku feast on others by wounding them. But his daughter Li Jing, shines through her father’s ever present storm. Like Ai, she’s really bright and manages everything. Her father would be nothing if it weren’t for her and Ai as well. I think that’s what makes him the angriest - he can’t break their spirits. One has to wonder why would he want to? They work tirelessly for him and manage school… and help others. They live with a purpose. A clear and present direction that moves them forward through life. Not stagnant like their father.
I think like Lorianna, Li Jing and Ai seek for the greater good of others - they see others through eyes that aren’t their own. They see so much more than most.
I had met Li Jing before getting the apartment - I remembered it after watching her and Ai. It was at a grocery store. I was caught up in my life and feeling down - what else was new,... But here was this young quiet woman with such a calmness about her, a resolve that she was not going to lose. Her attitude was that she had already won. She said, “it was giving a tough day over to Jesus that made the difference.” I was stunned. I had not thought that Jesus was anything more than the reason we had Christmas and Easter. It was just a religious nice thing… but I found out that it isn’t - Jesus isn’t a religion - it’s a mindset for a few folks out here that, like me, have no more rope. I found out that Jesus is the rope we grasp for, when everything falls apart. It is He who pulls our flailing helpless hands to His rope. Jesus is the arms that gently catches us when we’re falling...
I know for sure what you’re thinking this time - “Mom has joined a cult!”
No. I haven’t! It’s just I’m so tired of trying to do this life thing on my own - especially without any rope.
Look at where I am! Look where you two are? It makes me really sad that we don’t have a life together. It makes me sad that our lives as a family wasn’t better. While your father certainly had some big problems, I can’t say that he was solely responsible for all of them. No man or woman for that matter is an island. We don’t get to that lonely spot - by ourselves. And we aren’t supposed to live by ourselves… especially when we have family and people that come and go in our lives all of the time.
We all have an impact. We all have something that only we can do… That’s how life works. Call it God’s master plan. We are all connected that way and what we all do affects others - good and bad. But what we do with what others do to us - is our choice, because guess what, even if we do nothing with crap it’s gonna affect us and subsequently affect others, however big or small. And God orchestrates the whole mess. Hence, that’s why giving it to Him makes so much sense. He’s God and sees it all and He doesn’t mean evil for us… only our good… our very best. God is everything that your father and I were not and more…
Lord, it does sound like I’ve joined a cult, like I’ve drunk the whole bottle of koolaid… But what is better? This ugly life we try to swim through, make sense of, that which has no saneness?
What am I trying to say?
I love you both so dearly and I feel that you may spend your life thinking there’s more, but you have no way of getting more out of life - the joy that is lasting… This is what is most important…
Dare I say, surrender to God!
This letter was not supposed to get this philosophically heavy. It’s just supposed to be a snapshot of what my life is, what it has become.
I like my life. In many ways it is totally uncomplicated and simple. I run everyday for a couple of hours early in the morning, get cleaned up and go to the library. I think I’ve got an aptitude for organization. Lorianna would call it a gift. I forgot to tell you - she said I was an answer to her prayers. I’ve been described as many things but never as an answer to someone’s prayer. I think she prays for me. This is a nice thought - knowing that I matter enough to someone that they care to pray for me.
I don’t know what she prays, but I know with each day I feel a little better about myself. So, whatever connection or line that she has with God, He’s listening to her.
I pray for you two. I pray that you find your purpose, your connections. I think sometimes we spend too much time running in circles trying to find or create what we think is that “thing” that makes our lives meaningful only to waste so much of lives and so don’t live. We miss the joy. We mess up lives - not just our own, but so many other people around us…
Take a lesson from my life, my daughters. I have spent years trying to create dreams, happiness and joy and totally missed the boat. We only get so many years, days, minutes… Time! We all get to spend the time that is given freely to all of us, but we don’t get extra. No matter how much money one makes, we can’t make more time. We can’t go to a speciality store and buy more time. It’s not sold. Oddly, that it’s given freely - so it seems… Everything has a cost..
I think, after all of this time - to quiet yourself and ask someone like a Lorianna to pray with you to help in figuring out your purpose, would be a good idea - a step forward.
Everyone has something to do… So do you two…
Momma’s praying for you… as I run, as I plant flowers, as I shelve books. I am praying for you. You have something to do that only you can do… I’m sure it’s exciting.
This letter is way too long… I sometimes have a way of running on for too long. When I see Mike sometimes I chat with him. He’s pleasant. He doesn’t seem to mind that I run on… I like that.
I love you both… till the next time.
I really do, love you more.
Mom
Nora downloaded the letter to save it. She just sat slumped in her wooden chair. She felt like Goldilocks in mama bear’s chair - it all felt too big… like her grief that came pouring through the floodgates. She put her head down on her crossed arms and sobbed, but quietly.
Chloe eventually came over. She put her hand around Nora’s arms and then laid the side of her head on her back…
Chloe began to cry too… quietly.
They both sighed deeply at the same time… but neither moved, other than Nora turned her head to rest sideways on her arms. She eventually brought Chloe around to her lap and cradled her… The world outside was gone for the moment. No one came into their world - not even Lorianna. She knew they needed this stillness of time to pause. Both girls seemed to gird each other for the next steps - fortunately - forward.
They had been through a horrific storm, but it did not destroy them… It watered them… and all seeds need water to grow… What happened didn’t make sense but there was light shed upon some dark areas; all thanks to a simple QR Code… some light…
Nora decided not to return to college. Martha took Nora’s decision all the wrong way. She took it as an attack, an attempt to smear her… She regrouped. In fact, Martha didn’t miss a beat. She told everyone that Nora took the passing of their mother much harder than what was expected and said that she told her to take all the time she needed to re-evaluate her life’s direction. It was Martha who needed direction. Instead, she decided to sweep every ugly detail of her life under the proverbial rug and added Nora to the heap as a causality of their misspent lives. For Martha, there was nothing to learn from her past other than to never look back and keep moving forward - avoid it at all cost - even saying good-bye to her sister through a text: “Nora, contact me when you pull your life back together. Your dorm stuff should arrive at your new place within the week. Live your life, I’m busy doing the same.”
Nora signed onto her mother’s lease. Ku didn’t care at all. He simply avoided coming in contact with her and looking her in the eye, but Li Jing was overjoyed. She felt like she was gaining a sister. Lorianna offered Nora the job that her mother had done, however, Nora proved herself highly more proficient in the tech department, which revolutionized the small library making it a hit with the younger generation. Creating an internet cafe and gaming room made the library very popular. Chloe was a frequent visitor to the library as before. She became a junior librarian and helped out with story time and after school programs. Aunt Lucy was extremely thankful for this and came along with Chloe regularly…
Life was different, not so much better - just different in a good way. Everyone still had their moments of remembering. Ku would go off the wagon for days and nights that blurred into weeks… Amasa would help Li Jing find him, dirty, beaten, smelling of urine and worse… He would sob and plead in incoherent gibberish that Li Jing couldn’t even understand… He would scream that he was sorry when passing where Ai slept… He would fall to his knees… Amasa would stay and help with the old man. Ku knew he couldn’t fight him. He’d just look pleadingly into his face as if expecting him to read his mind, since the words could not come…
Li Jing was always so thankful for Amasa. She had grown fond of him, as he had hoped.
Martha was quite the bitter one… Nora had already contacted their mom’s friend’s but Martha sent out her own insensitive email to Milly and Gladys about their mom’s death and mentioned that Nora had opted to stay in their mom’s old place and had taken over her old job at the library. Milly and Gladys reached out to Martha, but their kindness was met with distance, coldness and silence… They did not pursue the matter any further, until Nora’s birthday.
When it was Nora’s birthday, the ladies thought it might be a good time to get together... Martha was invited to the surprise birthday party, but didn’t show, however, ruined the surprise of the visit... The two ladies had come with Gladys’ daughters to the library. Lorianna, having been contacted by Milly, took it upon herself to invite Li Jing and Chloe. She figured that Milly wouldn’t mind and had set up one of the meeting rooms as the party room...
Milly and Gladys wanted to come on a happy occasion, but it turned bittersweet for a little, as the ladies began to recount their past gatherings with Deborah… They said of Deborah, when pushed to the ropes, really did call life as she saw it; recounting one of their last times together. Subsequently, Milly and Glady’s both used the time after they helped Deborah move, to ponder what she said about her summation of broken dreams, her input into what had not come about… and did. It seemed to them, because Deborah admitted truths, not just what others did, but what she too had done... and not; she was able to move past brokenness, some, and had begun to grow. They said she had mentioned that she felt not so much alone and that she seemed to not have the mind that she had just missed out on a life, but she had determined to live the days she had...
Lorianna turned the tide and spoke of how they had all oddly come together. She said that their being together at this point wasn’t the accident that brought them together but something bigger and more providential … They all had an opportunity to think about what they were going to do to move forward. Lorianna turned to Nora as Chloe climbed up on Nora’s lap. She said that she was so thankful that she knew Deborah, even for such a short time. Lorianna saw a strength in her that she knew Deborah didn’t even know was there. But with time, she knew she’d be standing taller… and she knew she did, because she had found peace and wasn’t bent over from the hand that life seemingly dealt her.
Nora felt a bit sad, although so very thankful for Lorianna’s insightful words. She explained that she had regrets that she had not seen past herself to see all that her mom had done for her and her family. In retrospect, she knew that it was her mom that was the glue for their family… that while she didn’t financially provide for the family she had given her life for its survival in so many ways.
Chole knew she was too big to sit on anyone’s lap but she felt a closeness with Nora that was sisterly and Nora welcomed it. Not wanting to be left out, Chloe talked about what little she knew of her mom through the eyes of her dad and had imagined her to be someone like Deborah. She would question her and make her think about what was in the scattered puzzle pieces of thoughts she had in her head. However, she gave her time and permission to just be a kid and so it was ok to not be on top of it all… It was ok to not have a polished ready answer… and just play, like her dad encouraged her to do. She knew that her dad liked Deborah and often had a happy dazed look whenever listening to her. Everyone laughed at this. Chloe explained she came to fall in love with the library thanks to her dad, not just for the books, but for meeting Deborah and Lorianna.
Li Jing, taking Lorianna’s hand tenderly, expressed how she was forever indebted for the kindness that Lorianna had shown her and Ai; that he had found purpose working at the library - creating art that their mom had taught him as a little child. He shared with everyone - truly, his dying gift. The library had become a second home - a place that was peace-filled where you could collect one's thoughts.
Lorianna, resting back in her chair and looking thoughtfully around at all present, spoke last, saying we are all supposed to do something that no one else could do… Our purpose, our dreams… She smiled and said, “Isn’t it neat that we are all together now and have been brought together to share in each other’s lives… Kinda makes you wonder about tomorrow doesn’t it?”
Chloe chimed in, “Even the next moment!”
NOTES:
Milly - divorced first - two kids one pyromaniac - one eating disorder, but married
Gladys - cancer - husband died after divorce in accident - two daughters one married
Deborah - husband death by sucicide - two bratty self absorbed daughters Martha and Nora, however, Nora changes after the death of their mom.
Li Jing - (22-23) means beautiful spirit, quiet, still (Elementary Sch. 4, HS -12, 16 college, 20 grad college)
Ai - (15) means loving. (HS 12, 15,16 comm. college)
Ku - means bitter (and he is very old 70+)
Mike - (55) older man and father to …
Chole (9)
Philip and Lucy - Brother to Mike and uncle to Chloe. Lucy is Philip’s wife. They are both 55 with adult children. They were empty nesters and looking towards retirement.
Amasa - (25) means tender, soft, raw - Hebrew - burden. He is from Jordan -
Miss Lorainna Keats (70) - Librarian
Explanation as to “why” Deborah turned out to be the focus of the story - The other women- her friends; were not developed to be the type of women to go the full race, (they did not yield to the pressure and tension necessary to be made into the difference … . Their lives were complicated for sure, however, Deborah was the only one with fortitudeness. The course of her life’s ups and downs equipped her for the journey - totally unbeknownst to her, (who would have chosen to go the path she lived? No one willingly takes pain and brokenheartedness). God walked with her, carried her and she found Him and subsequently, and simply showed Him to others in the end.
Also, I specifically chose NOT to give “names” to the characters other than the three friends until the end of Deborah’s life. My goal was to “hyper” highlight the three women and then the life of Deborah, my protagonist. The other characters are there to give and/or assist with the details as the story moves along, but the friends are there to give the emotional content. I wanted to focus ultimately on Deborah and what she had been and what she had become… the re-defining of herself and discovering the peace and joy that evaded her at every turn in her life, but she was finally given in the forevermore. To state this differently, but not, I wanted to make the ladies POP in the beginning and only introduce the other key players after Deorah’s life faded… Literally her IMPACT was felt and so moved everyone else into action, (which is often the case when someone passes).
At the end of the story I would have liked to have Lorianna humming “I Need Thee” by Robert Lowry, but it doesn’t fit… BUT I can imagine Lorianna humming it in her head because of its peace, comfort and truth. :-)
The End
Nina Benson
Soli Deo Gloria
