Love Rewards The Brave (18 page)

108.

The room is loud again.

It was so quiet for a minute there

when Margot was speaking to the beat

louder each time she wanted to emphasize

hypnotize

mesmerize

me
the audience.

I look around as the lights come on.

Ms. Francine stands

in the back of the room

crying.

I watch as Margot goes over

hugs her tight.

Those two women such an unlikely pair.

Margot wearing her emotions
literally
on her sleeve

a person so extreme.

Ms. Francine

only five years older,

but a lifetime wiser.

Even though Margot always seems

to have it all figured out

somehow I doubt

she got there on her own.

After hearing Margot tonight

I realize there’s more to Ms. F

than I gave her credit for

I was so busy trying to

ignore

everything and everyone

but me.

I’ve been to blind too see

her for who she

really is.

109.

“Did you have a good time, Louisa?”

Ms. Francine drives me home

after the show.

“Yeah. Thanks again for taking me, did it ruin your plans.”

“My plans aren’t ruined. Besides it isn’t even eleven o’clock yet. The night’s still young.” She smiles, looks over at me

as she drives on the freeway. “Do you have any intentions, something you want to work toward in the New Year?”

I can’t answer her.

I saw her crying back

at the club.

I want to know how she stood up again

after being broke down.

I want to know how I can do the same.

I want to ask her if that’s why

she’s alone

taking broken kids into her home.

I want to ask her if that is why

she cares about me

if it’s because she can see

parts of

me

I try

so hard

to

hide?

“Um. I want to…um…I don’t know? I guess I need to think about it.”

It is all I can formulate

articulate

compensate.

“Well, let me know if you come up with any. I’m going to type mine up and tape them to the fridge.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know.”

And I would.

Just as soon as

I figure out

what I want.

110.

I’ve tried to call him

seventeen times.

I’ve left messages

with the secretary at the “home”

with his counselor

with the social worker guy

and still the machine tells me to leave

a message

after the tone.

So I do.

Again.

“Benji, hey it’s Louisa. I just wanted to call and wish you a happy New Year. I’ve called before, but I guess I keep missing you. I love you.”

I hang up.

Missing him on the first day of

The New Year.

111.

I hate going back to school

after a break.

Even though I’ve been working at the 6-Spot

nonstop

it’s so much better than class.

I don’t have to face Jess

at work.

I open the fridge to get breakfast.

Yogurt and strawberries.

I shut the door and see

Ms. F’s

typed list posted clear as day.

NEW YEARS INTENTIONS:

1. Exercise more
   

Okay, I get that, that’s like everyone’s’ resolution

1. Apply to a program to earn my Master’s Degree
   

I thought she had a job?

1. Go on a big road trip
   

Where does she want to go?

1. Get back in contact with M.
   

Who’s M? Why’s she being so cryptic?

1. Roommate???
   

Roommate? Is she going to get rid of me?

Suddenly I’m too worked up

to eat breakfast.

If Ms. F hadn’t left for work I’d

probably blow up at her

tell her

what I thought about her list

posted for me to see

that she was planning on living a

life without me.

Whatever.

And what?

If she were here like

I’d really just walk up to

her and say what the fuck?

I don’t do confrontation.

Whatever.

I run to the bus.

112.

Jess avoids me like the plague.

Great.

It’s not like I expected otherwise.

I’m obviously good at

pushing all the people

who matter away.

Live life on the fray.

Why the hell am I still

thinking about Ms. F anyway?

God.

This day is seriously sucking

and then I see

Markus

and he walks up to me

in the hallway and says, “Don’t be such a bitch, Louisa.”

I turn away

because I deserve it

and tears burn

my eyes

and I brush them away

thinking this

is such a shitty day.

113.

It gets worse.

My appointment with my mom

turns into an appointment with

Terry and the social worker guy

and some other lady who’s sitting at the table with

a file folder

the size

of her ass.

Big.

And my mom is

NOT PRESENT

We are gathered here today

they say

formally

I look at Terry warily

who looks at me with

sympathy,

but it feels an awful lot like

pity.

My stomach turns.

I know what’s coming.

I grip my stomach because I just know.

I haven’t been in the system

for two years

with a dad in prison for

rape, molestation,

physicalmentalemotional

abuse

and not know what’s coming

when a mom consistently never shows

up

after her son has

a suicide attempt.

There isn’t much left

for me

to hold

onto

except my own

two hands.

I press them against my stomach

the one that’s turning

churning

burning

with the

fear I’ve known would come

but

now is here.

I run

to the bathroom

find a toilet, quick,

as I

throw up

what’s left of me.

Not much.

114.

I walk back in the meeting room

more prepared

better aware

of what’s going on

now that everything else got

out.

The toilet flushed.

Down the pipes went

my guts.

Royally.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

The room nods their heads

simultaneously.

The symmetry makes me smile.

God, it’s been awhile.

I guess when all is lost

what you gain

is attitude.

“It’s okay, Louisa. We wanted to have a conversation with you today about some things that are going on behind the scenes, that affect you.”

The next sixty minutes pass

in a wash of

Blah.

Blah.

Blah.

Fuck this shit.

Mom is not complying with the plan.

Mom is not taking the mandated classes.

Mom is not stepping up to the plate.

Mom is not coming back for you.

Mom never wanted to.

Mom

Is

Gone.

A hearing is set.

Do you understand that?

“YES.”

I scream at the row of talking heads.

Yes. I understand
that.

I can tell Terry is taken aback. You know

by my word.

The voice she heard.

“Do you have any questions, Louisa?” she asks.

Do I have any questions?

What the fuck am I supposed to ask?

You know all that depressed girl

repressed girl

broken and confused girl

thing

I had done for the past sixteen years?

I think that’s over.

Gone.

Just like Mom.

And the person that’s forming

from my empty gut

doesn’t seem as sweet

here let me sweep

under your feet

and wipe your ass

and wash your floors

with my unshed tears.

No, this girl

is fierce.

“I don’t have any questions. Just tell me where to show up to watch this disappearing act say her final good bye.”

Then I walk out the door.

115.

I try to call Benji

again.

For the eighteenth, nineteenth, twentieth time.

I leave the same line

on the machine.

Only it’s getting more desperate

as I realize all I am about to lose

as I realize there isn’t anything

or anyone

left for me to choose

left to fight for.

Left to be strong for.

“Benji, it’s me again. Just wanting to talk. It’s really important. Please call me back. Or write. I need you.”

And I hold the phone in my hand

looking at the calendar

seeing that I have one week

before the Termination of Parental Rights

before the termination of the people for whom I fight

before the termination of what might

have

been.

I throw my phone

against the wall.

And it’s

Breaking.

Just.

Like.

Me.