Almost Eden (13 page)

Anyways, there was nothing I could say, so I left. Lena could ride home on her own for once. Never mind Beth, that old woman–little kids roamed around town on their own all the time in Hopefield. It’s not like I didn’t warn Lena to keep her trap shut, or that she was made of sugar or something.

Holy Moses, what if that kid had landed on her head? My stomach flipped just thinking about it.

At first, I didn’t pay much attention to where I was going. I just pedaled around. Then I found myself close to Eden. Suddenly it was like last time. I had to see Mom. I had to see her
now.
I’d been praying every day. Wasn’t it high time for God to do something already?

I dropped my bike on the lawn and marched in the front door. I never stopped to think about how I looked
until the nurse at the front desk did a double take. I was barefoot, my damp hair uncombed and tangled from riding. Over top of my bathing suit I had on a wrinkled T-shirt, but I wasn’t wearing any shorts even.

So what? It was visiting hours. Didn’t I have a right to see my own mother? I trotted by that nurse with my nose in the air.

“Wait a minute.” The nurse stood up and held out her hand like a stop sign. I hurried past. By now I was shivering again, even though the place was an oven on a day like today. All I could think was, I had to see Mom. I had to let her know how everything was falling apart without her and maybe she could tell the doctors it was time for her to go home. Then she could talk to Dad about getting Tommy back and she could take care of us again instead of Beth, and I wouldn’t have to look after Lena so much anymore. And maybe she’d let me have Jillian and Sadie over to make pizza or even have a pajama party for everyone. Then everything would be okay again.

My stomach went into a nosedive as I hurried down the hallway. I stopped at the door and forced myself to catch my breath or else I would’ve burst right into Mom’s room.

She was lying in bed, all peaceful. At first I thought she was sleeping still. Her head was leaning back against her pillow, and her glasses had slid down her nose. A thin line of drool glistened at the corner of her open mouth. One hand was resting on her lap, holding a book.

I counted five heartbeats before Mom groaned and turned her head. Her eyes blinked open. They were bright. Right away my heart skipped a beat. I was thinking my real mom was maybe back, and thinking that got me so choked up I couldn’t get out any words at first. I took a step toward the bed.

“
Vea es doa
?” Mom lifted her head, tilting it to one side. Her glasses fell off. She squinted a little. A tear leaked out the corner of one eye. I watched it run down her cheek as she tried to sit up. I saw the question in her teary-bright eyes just before she said, “Minnie?
Es daut du
?”

I froze. Like Lot’s wife turned into a pillar of salt. Who was Minnie?

The question in Mom’s eyes spilled out over her face. I watched it shudder through her whole body. Then she closed her eyes, rubbing her fingers across her forehead. The Bible on her lap slid to the floor.

“
Ach. Daut dayt me lite
” She spoke slowly, as if the words hurt. “
Du best nich
Minnie?” She lifted her head, using her hand to wipe away the tears, and rambled on. I couldn’t follow what she was saying. Only one thing I understood for sure.

Mom wouldn’t be coming home. Not today. Not anytime soon.

Mom didn’t know who I was even.

My skin went cold, my spine froze into an icicle. I knew I’d have to keep it that way or it would melt and there’d
be nothing left to hold me up. I stumbled backwards a few steps, until I was out of the room. Then I ran.

I ran and I ran. That weird ringing filled my ears again. From far away, through the ringing, I could hear the hollow sound of bare feet slapping against the cold floor tiles. I glanced over my shoulder. No one was there.

Just my sweaty footprints evaporating as they followed me out the door.

Oh, dear God, dear God, dear God.

A
voice whispered warm and wet in my ear. “We don’t have to go get Tommy after all.”

Lena hopped on my bed and started bouncing on her knees around me. “It’s morning. Stand up already, sleepy-head!”

I pulled the sheet over my head, curling up in a ball. “Go away.” I didn’t have the energy even to tell her to quit talking like an old Mennonite.

“But you have to get up! Dad’s going to phone up Nickel Enns and get Tommy back! He said he never thought anyone would make such a big deal over an old alley cat.” Lena nearly bounced on my head. “Did you really almost run away?”

Huh. So Dad figured I’d taken off because of Tommy. That was okay by me.

I never thought about where I was going after I’d run
out of Eden. I’d just jumped on my bike and started pedaling. Somehow I ended up on the highway to the States, pedaling and pedaling and pedaling. For all I knew I could’ve pedaled right across the border into North Dakota. In the back of my mind somewheres I knew it was too hot to be out there. I could feel myself burning, but the burning on the outside felt good compared to the burning in my chest and throat and eyes.

I wondered how to go about running away, but at the same time I was wondering about it, I knew already that I was too much of a chicken to really do it.

I don’t know for sure how far I went, or if I really would’ve ridden all the way to the States if Dad hadn’t happened to drive by in his half-ton. He pulled over on the shoulder and waited for me to catch up. “Elsie!? What in blazes are you doing out here?”

My heart kept racing after I stopped. My skin was on fire. I tried to say something. Then my knees just bent like rubber. Dad caught me in his arms.

“C’mon, kidlet. Let’s get you home.”

Dad told Beth he thought I’d maybe got too much sun. “She needs to rest.” He gave me a glass of water, made me drink the whole thing, then tucked me into bed in my cool, dark room. I don’t remember exactly, but I think he put a cold cloth on my forehead.

When I woke up it was dark. The cloth on my forehead was still cold yet. Someone must have changed it. There was a glass of ice water on the night table beside
my bed. I gulped it down and right away fell asleep again.

Let Dad think what he wanted. I wasn’t telling a soul what happened. So I guess there were a couple of more lies to add to my list of sins. I didn’t give a care. Me and God were through.

Lena wriggled under the sheet until the tip of her nose almost touched mine. She frowned cross-eyed at me. “Elsie? Are you feeling better yet? Did you hear what I said? Dad’s phoning up Nickel Enns right now!”

“I heard,” I said. “That’s great.” I frowned cross-eyed back at her, but I couldn’t make myself be as happy as she was.

“C’mon!”

Anyways, Lena was ecstatic enough for the both of us, like it never made any difference that I’d dumped her in the pool.

She giggled and whispered, “Jillian rode home with me yesterday. Mark told her to. ’Cause I told him you’d get in trouble. But now you won’t!” She gave a final huge bounce, launched herself off the bed, and scooted out the door.

“Who asked them?” I muttered. I didn’t care about getting in trouble. Dad shouldn’t let them do whatever it was they were doing to Mom in that place. How could he just stand by and do nothing? I dragged myself downstairs, still in my pajamas.

“You’re sure.” Dad was frowning into the phone. He barely glanced at me shuffling into the kitchen. Then he
started talking Plautdietsch, which could only mean one thing. Bad news.

Beth beat like crazy at a bowl of pancake batter. I knew already before Dad even hung up.

“
Deh kohta es ootyeklivft
” he said, forgetting at first to switch back to English until he saw our blank faces. “Tommy ran away. He disappeared the day after I dropped him off. Nickel Enns will let us know if he turns up.” He kept talking, like everything was all right when it was plain as day that it wasn’t. “Tommy’s an alley cat. He can take care of himself.”

From the way Dad never looked at us I could tell he felt pretty bad about everything. Not that he’d ever come out and actually say he was sorry. Lena crawled under the table again. She sat under there hugging her knees, scrunched up as small as she could make herself.

“That’s it?” I said. “You’re not going to do anything to find him?”

He threw up his hands. “What do you want me to do, Elsie? You want I should search the whole countryside for a bloody cat?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered, watching Dad reach for his cap. In another minute he’d walk out again.

Without thinking I blurted, “What kind of treatments are they giving Mom?”

For sure that stopped him in his tracks. I don’t know who was more surprised, me or him.

“What do you mean?”

But I’d lost my nerve. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. All I could do was stand there and look at Dad’s feet, wishing he would leave.

“What is it now,
meyahl
?” Dad’s voice was gruff still, like always, only quieter.

Under the table Lena scooted forward on her bum to stare up at Dad and me. Beth stood perfectly still at the stove, her back toward us.

Finally my tongue loosened. “I just–I want to know what they’re doing to Mom, that’s all.” My throat was scratchy, like there was something stuck going down the wrong way.

“You girls don’t need to worry about that,” Dad insisted. “She’s going to be fine.”

Jumping Jehoshaphat. What kind of answer was that? How could we not worry? She was our mother.

“Anyways, I already know,” I rushed on. “I heard you and Auntie Nettie talking, about how Mom gets such bad headaches because of the shock treatments.” Now my legs were shaking yet. I sat down on the nearest chair.

Beth put the ladle down, took the frying pan off the burner, and switched the burner off. She turned to face us, and the way she looked at me was sad and worried and kind all at once. I’d never seen her look at me like that before.

Dad ran his hand through his hair like he did all the time when he didn’t know what to say. “This is why I
haven’t said anything. There’s no good reason for you girls to get all upset over it.”

“Dad.” Beth was shaking her head. “We live here, remember? We’re not deaf and dumb. I know about the shock treatments, too. Probably even Lena knows.”

I felt a rush of gratefulness to Beth. Dad was outnumbered. Maybe now we’d finally get a real answer.

Dad sighed and pulled up a chair. “Come here
schnigglefritz
” He held his arms out to Lena. She scrambled out from under the table and crawled into his lap.

“So you girls know about the shock treatments. It’s what the doctors think is best for Mom, to help her get well again.”

“When is Mommy coming home?” Lena whispered.

“Soon. Another two or three weeks, maybe.”

Soon was a promise cheap as borscht. “Does it mean what I think? Shock, like in electricity?”

Dad winced. “It’s not so bad as it sounds.”

“How can they give Mommy electricity?” Lena wanted to know.

I gagged. It was all I could do not to throw up right then and there.

“It’s a special kind of medicine,” Dad said to Lena. Even his voice was shaking a little, his words stumbling all over each other. “They put wires on her forehead. Doctor Shroeder says the whole thing takes less than a minute. Then after, she sleeps for awhile.”

So, that meant she was awake when they did it?!
Deevilschinda.
So what if
deevilschinda
was a bad swear, it wasn’t as bad as what they were doing to Mom.

“Electricity works better than pills do for some people like Mom.”

“People like Mom?!” Beth slammed the frying pan back on the burner and gave the knob a hard twist. “You make it sound like she’s some kind of freak.”

“That’s not how I meant it and you know it.” Dad sounded tired. “I mean people like Mom who are depressed.”

“But it gives her headaches.” My voice came out barely above a whisper. How can something that gives you headaches be good for you!?

“
Nah yo
” Dad nodded. “There are side effects. That’s why she feels sore and sometimes has trouble remembering little things. But all that doesn’t last too long usually. And they give pain medicine to help with the headaches.”

Usually. Little things. Medicines.

They were giving my Mom shock treatments. Zapping her brain with electricity, zapping the depression right out of her.

What else was getting zapped out, I couldn’t help wonder.
Zap.
There goes the depression.
Zap.
There goes a little memory along with it. Not so important. She doesn’t need to know what day it is. Someone can tell her.
Zap.
Oops, there goes that memory of picking up the squished baby birds. For sure it was a bad one anyways.
Zap. Zap. Zap.
Hallowe’en’s gone. The piano recital, gone. Her kid’s name. Gone. No problem. She’ll remember her daughter tomorrow maybe. Or the next day. Or whenever.

Fuy.
No wonder she slept all the time. No wonder no one wanted to tell me anything.

“The doctors know what’s best for Mom,” Dad insisted again. Only he said it like he was trying to convince himself. “We have to trust them.”

Beth poked away at the pancakes with a spatula. “We have to pray that the treatments will work, and Mom will get well. We have to trust in God to take care of her. Just like he’ll take care of Tommy, wherever he is.”

Since when did Beth give a care about what happened to Tommy? And what good would praying do? I’d prayed and I’d prayed, and this was God’s answer? If God didn’t care enough to help Mom, why would he look out for an old stray?

God was supposed to be all powerful. The Lord God Almighty, not? If He was all powerful then He meant for all this to happen.

I couldn’t imagine why. It didn’t matter anyways. There wasn’t a reason good enough for God to let them do things to my mother that made her forget her own kid! What greater purpose was there in that? Either God just didn’t care or–He wasn’t all powerful after all.

Maybe there was no God even.

This time the thought was there in my head before I could stop it. I held my breath, waiting to be struck by
lightning. When I didn’t incinerate or anything, I let the thought creep back. Maybe there was no God. Or if there was, maybe He wasn’t the kind of God I thought He was. Maybe He wasn’t the kind of God I wanted to believe in.

Still nothing happened.

“I don’t believe in God,” I whispered.

Only I guess I whispered louder than I thought. Dad and Beth got these terrible hurt looks on their faces like I’d slapped them or something.

“What?” said Dad.

Outside the kitchen window the sun was shining the same as always. The robins were chirping the same as always. The leaves on the trees were fluttering in the breeze still. The world hadn’t changed.

But I had. I didn’t feel like a kid anymore.

That is so long ago it’s hardly true anymore.
Mom sometimes said that to us kids, like if we were fighting about something that had happened maybe yesterday or last week.

I felt like the time when I was a kid was so long ago it was hardly true anymore, like I never even was a kid.

For sure I’d never be a kid again.

I licked my dry lips and said, as firmly as I could, “I don’t believe in God anymore.”

Beth sucked in her breath. Lena slid off Dad’s lap and stared at me, her eyes wide. Even I couldn’t quite believe what I’d said. For such a loud family, everyone was awful quiet all of a sudden.

“You don’t mean that,” Dad said.

“Yes, I do.” Maybe I did. I didn’t know. I didn’t know what I believed for sure anymore.

“Elsie, don’t. Don’t talk like that.”

“Fine then.” I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t anything. “But I’m not going to church anymore. You can ground me if you want. Makes me no never mind.”

I wasn’t going to Eden anymore either, but I didn’t say anything about that yet. “You can make me stay in my room forever if you want, but you can’t tell me what to think. No one can tell me what I should think, or what I should believe.”

It was true. Walking calmly up the stairs to my room, I knew it was true.

For once I wished I was wrong. More than anything, I wished someone would just tell me what to believe, and I’d believe it, and that would be that. Everything would be so easy if I could just believe like Beth believed or like Reverend Funk believed or like Dad, who believed after all, even if he didn’t go to church all the time.

Something told me I could ride my bike around the world with no hands and the chances of my wish being granted would still be
nusht.