When You Go Away (9 page)

     "Go away.  I’m calling the police right now," the woman yelled, but Peri was climbing up the brick, holding onto the steel fence rails, pulling herself over, landing solidly on her feet, running up the driveway to the front door.  She slammed against it, hitting the wood with her palms over and over again.  "I know you're in there, Graham.  Come out here and see her.  Come out and see the baby.  Look what you've done to us!" 

     Pushing herself back, she saw her colored, rippled reflection in the two stained glass windows in the center of the oak door, and she curled a fist and broke her way into his new life.  It was so cool, perfect, and normal, no powdery formula, no holes in soft skin, no sad eyes following her everywhere.  Peri closed her eyes, wanting to stay there, hooked up to what she might have had in another life.

     The woman inside, the cool and perfect and normal wife, screamed, and Peri reached down the inside of the door for the doorknob, but she couldn't reach it, her fingernails clicking on brass.  Her hand felt wet and hot, and she leaned against the door and slid to the welcome mat, her elbow holding her on the broken window, blood pouring down to her shoulder.  All the pounding and breaking had forced the balloon out of her, but the only thing that had exploded was this door, and she smiled, wanting to laugh.  At least the
children were safe.  Before the world faded to gritty black, for a clear moment, she heard nothing.  No crying.  Not the baby.  Not one single sound.

Peri swam in a calm white light.  There was motion and sound over her, people and machines, but she was separate from it, tucked deep inside her body.  Time spun out in a comfortable fuzzy line, and she floated with her eyes closed, listening to the silence from back home.  The baby was quiet and the balloon gone.  For the first time in months, she could feel her whole chest, and she wondered if she was dead.  Or maybe she was happy, smiling.  Was she smiling?  But it didn't matter because her body curved and sailed like a smile, and she remembered being a child, long before the divorce, sleeping in a sun spot on the couch, stretching into the light.

     The woman's shirt had little cats all over it.  Peri blinked, her lids heavy, and she swallowed, her throat rough and dry.

     "Here's some water." The woman pushed a button that raised her bed and then filled a cup from a blue pitcher on a tray.

     Peri tried to reach for it and then felt something holding her arm down.  She was about to complain, and then realized the woman was going to hold the cup for her.  Grabbing the straw with her lips, she sucked down the cool water, tasting ice on her tongue.

     "What--why do I have these?" Peri asked, looking down at the restraints. She wanted to wipe the water from her lips.

     "You were a bit out-of-control when they first brought you in yesterday."

     "Yesterday?"

     The woman nodded, writing something down on her chart.  "You've been asleep for about eighteen hours."

     "I have?"

     "We've been giving you medicine that made you sleepy.  But I need to ask you some questions, okay?"

     Peri closed her eyes and relaxed against the pillow.  The past four days unwound like a terrible movie.  The baby.  Brooke.  Carly.  Ryan.  The apartment.  The formula.  She sat up, her arms stuck behind her, the muscles in her chest tight against her heart.  "Oh my God.  My children.  I--I just left them."

     The woman wrote some more on her pad and then looked up at her, her eyes soft.  "The police found your purse.  We've called your brother.  Your father has your kids."

     "Brooke?"

     The woman seemed to nod, writing down more words.

     "Where am I?"

     "This is the emergency room at Phoenix General."

     "The police?"

     "You don't remember how you got here?"

     As she sat up, her arms rigid, the drive to
Phoenix
and then to Graham scratched through her mind:  the dirty motel, the street full of big houses, his wife’s scream as she cracked into the house.  She closed her eyes and saw her own colored reflection, heard the glass shatter, felt the shards rip into her flesh.  Opening her eyes, she turned to her right arm and saw the bandages.

     "Twenty-five stitches," the woman said.  "You're lucky she called the police so quickly.  You lost a lot of blood."

     Shaking her head back and forth, she longed for her own hands, needing to hide.  "So what's wrong with me?  Why did I do this?"

     "That's what I need to talk about with you, but we don't have to do it all at once.  In a bit, we're going to move you upstairs to another ward, and a doctor will talk with you."

     Peri knew what the woman was saying.  She was going up to the psych ward with all the other people who'd lost their minds.  "What about my brother?"

     "He's on his way down.  He said he'd be here later."

     "What's going to happen to me? Will this happen again?  Is this what I’m going to be like forever?"

     The woman stared at her, not unkindly, but just waiting for all of Peri’s questions to come out.  “You’re feeling better,” she said.  “Aren’t you?”

     Again, Peri missed her hands, wanting to touch this cat lady, take her optimism and press it to her chest where it could steep into her like truth.

     “Yeah.  But now what?”

     The woman put down her pad and placed a hand on Peri's arm.  "The police have to talk with you.  The woman--your ex-husband's wife--may or may not file charges.  And then there's what happened with your kids back in California.  But you need to work on feeling well.  You won't leave until the doctors think you are ready.  We're giving you a good medicine that will help you stop feeling bad.  And you can deal with what has happened these past few days."

     Leaning back against the pillow, Peri tried to nod, but her eyes felt as heavy as doors, and she closed them.  She would never forgive herself, even if the police, her family, and her children did.  It didn't matter if Graham had deserted them and neglected to send the alimony.  It didn't matter if he'd moved out to live with another woman in a big house with a gate.  She'd left.  She'd left them--even Brooke --all alone.  She wanted to cry, but before she could, she was moving back into the fuzzy time, carried by hands away from her actions, taking her back and far away.

     After the kids were asleep, Ryan snoring lightly in the study, Carly curled up on the bed in the guest room, Carl closed the hall door and went to the telephone, punching the button on the answering machine, listening first to Noel and then Garnet, both with a wire of panic in their voices.  He picked up the phone and walked to the kitchen counter, leaning on it as he dialed Noel.

     "Dad?  What's going on?"

     Carl sighed, the story heavy in his mouth.  "It's not good, Noel.  Peri left the kids alone.  We don't know where she went yet.  The cops, they know.  And Brooke--Brooke's in the hospital."  He heard his son suck in air and then swallow.

     "Oh, God.  Is it serious?  Is she going to be okay?"

     "I think so.  I'm meeting with the doctors at ten tomorrow morning.  Carly finally told a neighbor what was happening.  A nurse.  She saved them."

     "Where are Carly and Ryan?  With you?"  Carl tried to ignore the surprise in Noel's voice.

     "They're asleep.  Wiped out.  I don't even want to think what these past three days have been like for them."

     "Did you find Graham?"

     "I tried, but before I could get very far, the woman--Rosie--called, and I was off to
Walnut Creek
.  Garnet called, though.  I'll give her a ring after I talk with you."

     "Is Brooke at Mt. Diablo Hospital?"

     "Yeah." 

     "I'll be there at ten, too.  This isn't good for Peri.  She might lose the kids over this.  And while a judge might give Carly and Ryan to Graham, it might mean Brooke goes into foster care.  You do realize that, don't you?"

     Carl nodded, the phone rubbing against his cheek.  Neither of Brooke's parents seemed a good bet right now.  And while he would fight for Carly and Ryan to stay with him, Carl couldn't take care of Brooke the way Peri had before the switch flipped in her head.  His life had been about being alone for too long, and he had to admit to himself that he liked it the way it was, tennis, puttering, beers with the guys at The Big C, occasional family moments if he was lucky, a date once in a while if he was even luckier.  How did a disabled girl fit into that picture?  If he was honest, how did two adolescents?

     "Dad?"

     "Yeah.  It's going to be bad.  We have to figure it all out.  We can do that tomorrow at the hospital.  We have time to figure it out.  Keep a steady strain."

     "Yeah, I know.  You always say that.”

     Carl nodded, realizing he didn’t even really know what it meant, just something his mother always said when he was having a tough time with his sister Janet or failing at math.  The sound of the phrase calmed him, even now.

     “Well . . .”

    “God . . . Poor Peri.  Oh, those poor kids."

     "Listen, you might want to search around for a lawyer,” Carl said.  “I think we're going to need one."

     "I will.  I have someone in mind.  Kieran Preston.  And I think I'll call over to the hospital and see how Brooke's doing."

     "Good idea.  So tomorrow."

     "Ten, right?"

     "That's right.  See you then."  Carl hung up and wanted to go to sleep, a terrible fatigue passing through his body like wind.  His calves were sore from tennis, and his back twitched from the strange position he'd found himself in during the sprinkler repairs. 
Damn that Trimble woman
, he thought.  But as he dialed Garnet's number, he wished he could go back to this afternoon when avoiding Mrs. Trimble was his biggest worry.

     "Garnet?  Carl."

     "Oh, Carl.  I've been waiting for your call.  I tried to get a hold of Graham, but he's out of town--out of the country really--on business.  His new--his new wife told me.  He won't be home for a few days.  But Blair said she would call him to ask about giving you
the number.  I told her it was an emergency, but she didn't listen.  I wish Graham were here," she said all in one worried breath.

     "Garnet, I've got some terrible news."

     Her silence echoed into his ear, the huge house a rattle of space behind her.  "No."

     "Peri left.  We don't know where she went, but she left the kids."

     "Brooke?"

     "She left Brooke, too, and now Brooke’s in the hospital with an infection of some kind.  The doctors think she'll be fine."

     "Peri did what?"

     He hadn’t been there for Peri for a long time, but at Garnet’s question, he felt a tightness in his throat, a readiness to speak fighting words.  "I guess since the divorce went through, Graham stopped sending alimony.  There was something about losing the physical therapist.  He left town, I think.  I don’t really know yet.  But she also let some things go.    I think the move pushed her over the edge."

     "Graham wouldn't have done that to his children," Garnet said with the same defensive sound he felt in his own voice.  "Not to Brooke.  That poor child.  Not to her."

     Garnet’s voice cracked for an instant, a slim line in a china teacup, and he realized that they were more alike than he thought, both concerned for their grandchild.  But he had to protect Peri. "Listen, Garnet.  I’m getting this all from Carly and from a neighbor at the apartment complex.  I don't know the whole story--where Peri is, why Graham or Peri did
what they did.  All I know is that things got so bad, Peri thought she had to hide and then she thought she had to leave.  I'm not condoning it.  I just don't know what's going on."

     "Those poor children.  Where are Carly and Ryan?"

     "They're here.  Asleep."

     "They should come and stay here.  I have more room that you do.  I could even bring Brooke here and get her all the help she needs.  I can’t tell you how many times I offered to help.  Why didn't Peri call me?  For heaven's sake, Carl!"

     "Garnet, I don't know.  She didn't call me, either.  Or Noel.  Or her old neighbors.  But the kids are fine right now.  Tomorrow, we'll find out more.  But I have to tell you, there's a chance . . ."

     "What?"

     "That we might lose them.  Who knows what the authorities will do."

     "Oh, my.  That can’t happen!  Where are you meeting tomorrow?"

     Carl imagined Garnet clacking down the hospital hallway, in fine leather pumps and matching handbag, pearls at her throat, steel in her eyes, the look that comes from having had what you want all your life.  Knowing her, she’d get it, as she’d gotten her husband, house, and children, not that she’d had to work for them. 

     He didn’t speak right away, listening to the sound of her waiting on the other end of the phone.  She might expect too much, but she would be good to have in a meeting with
officials, her upbringing teaching her all the rules of power.  "At Mt. Diablo Hospital.  At ten."