Song of Renewal (21 page)

To Liza and their dad, Charlcy had become a force of nature.

Thus, Charlcy’s heavy load could only be lightened by yoking with like creatures. She’d decided to teach special ed, a choice only her brilliant, overcharged psyche could rationalize. Liza had wondered at that decision, but then decided that Charlcy, from somewhere deep in her gene mosaic, had drawn on a primitive strain of nobility.

Who was Liza to second-guess her nurturer?

Today, in the quietness of Restorative Care, Liza drank a cold Coke from the bottle, savoring its effervescent, chilly flow to her stomach, relaxed and contemplative – when her mind spun back to another day when she received a call from Charlcy.

Liza had listened to her sister’s ever-evolving dialogue through the years and always understood. Unlike Charlcy, she’d not actually taken all the pummeling but had, from the sidelines, like standing on the side of a busy interstate, absorbed the
whooshing
impact of the barreling eighteen-wheeler’s violence and velocity.

Liza
felt
Charlcy’s heartrending howl for redemption. Experienced by osmosis the need for a raison d’être, a term Charlcy, in her halting French, often used. “Come on, God,” she would wail when strain graduated to overkill, “give me a raison d’être, a daggum
reason
for this shipwrecked history!”

Other times the dialogue was poignant and melancholy.

“These kids in special ed with their desolate wishes just a’spilling from their big ol’ eyes tug at my heartstrings, you know?”

In the beginning of those first, passionate years, Charlcy poured herself into each student, feeling that her own needy years equipped her with the compassion to help reach the untouchable places and guide them to impossible success.

Liza had watched, year after year, as the hope inside her sister first exploded and lit up the heavens. Later, it flashed and scattered skinny rays helter-skelter. Then it finally sparked and fizzled. So many failures. So many kids from whom the teacher Charlcy failed to excavate and eradicate the torment. So many tears and snotty noses she’d wiped…yet unable to wipe away the bleakness of unattainable goals and unavoidable learning fiascos.

Liza felt her sister’s pain and knew Charlcy’s desperation came from trying to relive her own pathetic childhood through these children, feeling that somehow, if she could navigate them to stunning success and happiness, all her own losses might pale beneath their brilliance.

One day, after a particularly heartbreaking disappointment, Charlcy had called Liza. She usually stoically dealt with whatever popped up in her classroom world of disorder, peril, and lunacy. That day was somehow different. Charlcy seemed poised on the brink of something gaping and ravenous, lusting to suck her in.

“Remember me telling you about Willie, the one-eyed black boy? He’s always been a challenge, but today he – ” For an instant, Charlcy’s voice choked and Liza’s antennae shot up. Charlcy rarely cried. She heard a deep sucking-in breath and release. “Today he was absolutely a terror. When I told him to sit he spun around and pointed his finger in my face, shouting,
‘If I want to talk to you, I’ll talk to you,’ and called me a few choice names.”

“Ah, sis,” Liza moaned, knowing how Charlcy had tried to help Willie “find himself.”

“Oh that was just the beginning, honey. When I took his arm to march him to the principal’s office, he swung around and hit me in the face with his fist.” She snorted, but to Liza it sounded like a half sob, followed by moments of silence and a lot of throat clearing.

“Were you hurt?” Liza asked gently, her heart breaking because she knew that Charlcy felt that her great, healing love had been thrown back in her face, unrequited, something she had experienced so insolently in days past.

“Hey!” Charlcy’s bravado emerged full force. “A black eye is all. Heck, I’m no stranger to those, doncha know?”

“I’m so sorry, Charlcy. I know how much you’ve prayed for that boy and – ”

A harsh, disparaging laugh erupted from the other end of the line. “Pray? I wonder sometimes if there really is a God.”

“Charlcy! You don’t mean that.” Liza was shocked. Through all the turbulence of their lives, she’d never before heard Charlcy sink to this level of despair. Almost, but not quite. Though faith had many times been stalwart Charlcy’s last resort, this denouncement undermined all the rock-bottom support that had, in the midnight hours, hurtled her up, over, and beyond ceasefires.

Liza gripped the receiver, eyes closed against gathering tears. “Please don’t mean that, Charlcy,” she whispered.

“Right at this moment? Honestly?” That ferocious burst of energy, unique to her sister, staccatoed her voice, sizzled over the airwaves and into the phone. “Yeah. I really do mean that. A god that lets women like our mother bring children into the world and create monsters and misfits like I teach every day,
whose stupidity and cruelty is passed on from one lunatic generation to the next? I’m sorry, kid, but I’m a little jaded at this precise moment in time.”

Liza took a deep, steadying breath and exhaled the shock. “You’ll feel better after a night’s rest, sis. Just – let it go. Willie’s an extremely troubled kid. You’ve always known that. If you couldn’t help him, then no one could. At least not on this level of counseling.”

“And how was your day, Tinker Bell?” Charlcy shucked the anger like an October snakeskin. Liza chuckled tightly and chatted for a few more moments, tamping down uneasiness and playing along with her sister’s game of “what problem? Who’s got a problem?”

Another pathetic episode of the invincible woman-child.

Today, in the hospital, Liza grieved that so much was stolen from her family through the years. Charlcy, the protector, in particular.

Please, God
, Liza prayed,
help Charlcy’s faith. We need it right now. For Angel.

Later at home, Liza and Garrison had quick cheese, ham, and tomato sandwiches, neither really eating much. Garrison yawned sleepily and asked, “How did things go at the hospital?”

“Angel had a breathing problem develop. She started rattling and turning blue – ”

Garrison’s entire body went instantly on alert. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I tried but I couldn’t reach you. You weren’t at the office.”

He frowned. “I was there. My phone must have been – ” He stopped, looking a bit bewildered. He shrugged tensely. “I don’t know. I didn’t hear it.” Then his gaze cleared. He snapped his fingers. “Oh, I forgot. I left it in the outer office after making
some business calls. I even had a business meeting at the Ritz. I found it later. I’m sorry, Liza.” He shook his head, clearly troubled. “What did they do to correct Angel’s breathing?”

“John, the respiratory specialist, came in when she had the attack.” Liza went on to explain the treatment process to him in detail and he seemed to relax.

He ate quietly as she sipped coffee and pondered the day’s events.

“In the future,” he said as he arose, “I’ll be more careful with my phone. I need to be accessible.”

“That would be wise.” She realized that her earlier sense of panic had ebbed. For the moment, she would enjoy the peace.

chapter eleven

Penny watched as Cindy, the nurse, worked with Angel’s arms and hands, flexing each joint. She bent the hand back at the wrist and then forward. She flexed the elbows and lifted the arms at the shoulder joints, rotating them.

“Does that really help?” Penny asked.

“Oh, yes.” The nurse shook her head emphatically. “It helps with their range of motion. Keeps them flexible.”

Penny’s eyes lit up and she grinned across the bed at Liza, who sat facing her. “That means that when she wakes up, she’ll be good to go.”

“You bet.”
Thank you, dear Penny.
Liza’s heart lifted at the optimism of those words. At least for the moment she could entertain a ray of sunshine.

Nurse Cindy moved to clean Angel’s eyes and apply eyedrops. “This keeps her eyes moist.” She addressed Penny, who now stood on the opposite side of the bed, hanging over and watching the procedure at close range.

The nurse then took a stick with a padded end, dipped it in antiseptic – a mint-scented solution – and proceeded to swab out Angel’s mouth, with close attention to her tongue, gums, teeth, inside cheeks, and the roof of her mouth. “That thing
looks like what you polish shoes with,” Penny remarked, “except the stick is longer.”

“This is strictly for sanitation upkeep.” Nurse Cindy winked at her and tossed the swab into a trash can. “You want the spec to bathe her?” she asked Liza.

Liza chose to bathe Angel herself, with Penny’s assistance.

Thirty minutes later, Angel’s face appeared less wan, with freshly scrubbed skin. Liza leaned over her and whispered encouragement into her ear. “Everything’s gonna be okay, darlin’. Keep on fighting, y’hear?”

Penny gasped. “Her fingers moved. Look, they curled up into a fist!”

Liza excitedly called in the on-duty nurse to see.

“Just reflex,” said the nurse, smiling sympathetically after examining the fingers.

After she left, Liza straightened the sheets over Angel, hiding her disappointment from Penny. “False alarm. But it will happen.”

“Got that right.” Penny grinned and shot her a thumbs-up.

“I wish we could powder and perfume her,” Penny murmured regretfully. “But I know the rules. It would mess with her breathing.”

Two orderlies came in to turn Angel to her side, being careful about repositioning her casted legs. This process took place every two hours, night and day, to help with circulation and prevent blood clots.

Penny took her bedside seat and grinned at Liza across the sheets. “She always smelled so good.” Reminiscing, her voice dropped to a reverential hush. “I’d ask her what scent she was wearing and she’d tell me something different every time. Did she really change perfume that often?”

“Oh, yeah.” Liza laughed. “Some girls turn into clothes horses? Well, Angel’s passion has always been fragrances. Her
dresser top is full. Her taste is great, mind you. It’s just that she gets bored easily with the same old thing.”

“Yeah,” Penny nodded, enthusiasm building. “She was always the one who came up with new ideas for the cheering squad. Coach always gave her space to at least experiment with fresh moves. Most of her ideas worked.” Her face grew sad. “Coach really, really misses her input.” Her shoulders gave a limp shrug. “Everybody misses her.”

They sat quietly for long moments, and then Penny unexpectedly giggled. “I remember one time when she – ”

Garrison’s sudden appearance stifled Penny’s exultant flow.

“Hi, Penny,” he said warmly. “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

“We were just reminiscing about Angel,” Liza said, smiling encouragingly at Penny. She knew by the look on Penny’s face that she was replaying how Garrison had acted when he’d eavesdropped on Penny’s divulgences. He’d embarrassed the teen by walking away after letting her know he’d overheard her uncomplimentary comments about him. She wondered now at Penny’s ability to get over it.

She needn’t have worried. Big-hearted Penny quickly read Garrison’s intent.

He slid the girl a big, open smile and pulled up a chair. “Please…go on.”

Penny grinned. “I was just talking about the time Angel…” The afternoon passed swiftly as they sat about the bed sharing Angel vignettes, ranging from hilarious to serious to touching.

“She always loved animals,” Penny said, visibly moved. “She even complained that frogs were killed to use in Biology dissections. Did you know that?”

“Uh-huh. She said as much to me.” Garrison nodded. “That girl couldn’t resist anything hurt.” He stretched out his long legs and crossed his ankles, hands resting across his lean midriff. “She adopted out more strays through the Humane
Society shelter than you could shake a stick at,” he said softly, proudly, a tender smile warming his face. “She’d have kept every one if we’d allowed it.”

“Yeah.” Penny’s face was pensive beneath the shock of dark spiked hair. “She told me that Troy wanted to be a vet. They were so perfect – ” She choked up. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t want to upset ya’ll by talking about Troy and – ”

“Shh.” Garrison’s eyes were soft and compassionate. “S’okay.”

Liza looked at him. Was it really okay? How about with her, Liza?

As though discerning, Garrison drew his gaze to hers. He must have read the question in her eyes, because he looked away, suddenly quiet. Within moments, he glanced at his watch and murmured, “I’ve gotta run back to the office for a while.”

“Bye, Mr. W.,” Penny called to his retreating back.

“Bye, Penny.”

Liza stared after him. Her sunshine drifted behind a cloud. He hadn’t even said good-bye to her. And she knew. It wasn’t okay.