Sarah Flanigan - Poetry Simply Put

Roses are red awe
in my grandfather’s garden
I reach out and touch.

copyright 2007

(in response to a tag from kim)

Was it true love
what we had?
Soul Mates true
or passing ships?
Meant to be
of meant for the moment

Do you wonder?
What if?
Am I there
hovering in the back
of your mind too?
Do I lurk
in your soul
as you do in mine?

After all this time
is the memory fresh
as today’s sunrise
or yesterday’s news?

Copyright 2006

(My friend Jennifer of Welcome to My Shoe has written a true Christmas story and I wanted to share it with you. Sarah)

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! FELIZ NAVIDAD!!! SEASONS GREETINGS!!! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! I hope you are all planning as great a Christmas season as I am!

You know, I’ve been rather quiet this Christmas. I haven’t been a grinch by any means, but I haven’t been in your face merry either! Just quiet, preoccupied, if you may. However, with one stroke of chance, that has all changed.

Why? Good question! I was hoping you would ask!

If you have explored my blog in the last two months, you might know a bit about me and my family. I’m a wife and a strongly devoted mother to four beautiful children. I’m also pregnant once again with my fifth. This pregnancy however, is different. Our baby has been diagnosed with an extremely serious heart condition and has very little chance of survival. You can read more about what we are dealing with here and here.

So with all this on our plates, I must admit that some things have taken a back seat. My son’s birthday in mid-December for instance. While he did enjoy himself and, I don’t think, felt second place, it really wasn’t the huge bash I would have liked it to be. It is only three days left to Christmas and I still have gifts to buy for my kids. My Christmas cards are sitting on my table, still waiting to be mailed. Understandable? Perhaps. Not even totally unlike me. The biggest difference has been in how I feel about it all. For the first time ever, I have truly felt as though it wouldn‘t really matter if these things were done or not.

Then, completely unexpectedly, I received one of those unwrapped gifts that my title alluded to.

Before I go on though, I have to ask you. Do you believe in fate? Do you believe that there really are no chance encounters and that everything happens for a reason? I do. Since I first found out about our baby, I have been able to feel the loving presence around us, looking out for us, and protecting this family. I can look back and see things that happened months before I was even pregnant, getting us ready to deal with this situation. Now, I know I must have turned someone off with this little spill, but please continue to hear me out. I may just make a believer out of you yet. It is Christmas after all!

Earlier this week, I had one of the very few ‘regular’ Dr appointments I’ve had in recent months. Just a routine pre-natal check-up with my regular Dr. Very nice. Afterwards, I needed some blood work done, so I was in the waiting area, hoping the lab would call me soon as I was already late for meeting my sister for the afternoon. Besides, I was really hoping to be able to crash on her couch for a couple of hours!

I waited. And waited and waited. 15 minutes ticked by. I saw the lab assistant come out and go back with some papers. Good I thought! She’ll call me soon. More time went by. The lab tech came out again, this time coming back with a coffee and a cookie. I fidgeted. I turned my attention back to the family that had been entertaining the entire room full of people for the past half hour.

It was a father with three of his children. A 14m old boy, a real little terror (I say that affectionately!) whose favorite game was I’ll-run-you-chase, and his much older brother and sister who were all too happy to comply. The father was very much into the game as well and the time didn’t go by quite so slowly with them in the room. I found out later that the mother was seeing the Dr, as she is just days away from delivering their sixth child. By the time the lab tech had disappeared back into her room with her coffee and cookie, the toddler was getting rather cranky at not being able to find Mom. The father finally plopped him on his knee and wouldn’t let him run around anymore, which really upset the poor little tyke even more.

“Let me take him, I’ll watch him,” implored his daughter.

Yes, let her take him I thought, anything to sooth an upset little one. “No,” said the father. “He needs to learn to sit still sometimes too. What is going to happen after his surgery when he has a tube sticking out of his chest and he’s not allowed to run around?” Excuses, excuses I thought.

That’s when it happened. I actually spoke up and stuck my nose into someone else’s business between them and their child. Open mouth and out flows words. My Mom always did tell me that I had to start putting my brain into gear before my mouth into motion. Sometimes it is good to ignore our Mom’s, but don’t ever tell my children I said that!

“Oh he wouldn’t feel like running around after that!” I said.

“Oh you would be surprised,” he replied. “These little kids are hard to keep down. They can have open heart surgery and be ready to go home five days later.”

Well, I couldn’t help myself again. Could you have? I asked for the story and he was more than happy to share it with me and the rest of the room. Turns out his little rambunctious toddler, that fat, chubby little cherub with the quick giggle and faster feet, is one of five children in the world. He was born with a heart condition that makes our baby look like no big deal. I was in complete awe as he told the tale and my unbelieving eyes took in the now freed toddler running and around and wreaking havoc with the magazines he managed to snatch despite his sister and brother’s attempts to corral him.

Again I say, there are no such things as chance encounters. The beautifully pregnant mom came out just as he was giving me his business card with instructions to call and ask them anything we needed to know. Pictures too, if we wanted. Timing, timing, timing. Timing is everything.

My blood work? The lab requisition form had been misplaced. Would you believe it was found and I was out of there about five minutes after they left? I know that I was meant to hear that story and we would all have been sitting there until I did!

I soared for the rest of the day, the day after that, and the next day too. I’m still soaring and I will continue to do so. The realities of our baby’s situation has not changed, but I have. I now truly believe. The joy is fully and firmly in my heart once again, and it is hope that fills my sails. I’ve heard other miracle stories, but to see that perfect little child running all over the place, keeping everyone on their toes, made all the difference.

It was the best Christmas gift I could have ever received.

Jennifer

Silver bracelets
and golden rings
hearts of lace
soft whispered words
warm smile
shining eyes
the promise of tomorrow
and the hope of today

Sweet moments shared
stolen in the night
remembered in the day
Secrets told
secrets held…
Dreams made true
life made sweet
time forgotten
and put aside…

The light that falls upon
your Golden Hair

copyright 2006

Be not my adversary
but be my friend
Be not my opposer
but teach me to bend

Be not my advisor
but give me your ear
Speak not loudly
just that I may hear

Be not my path
but show me the way
Leave not my side
but know I might stray

Show me not
through your eyes
but through my own
Stand with me
but let me stand alone

Be not my keeper
but be my mate
Know that I love you
no matter our fate

Be not my shadow
but be my twin
Speak of my good deeds
and know of my sins

Be not my fire
but keep high the flame
Know my passions
and make me not tame

Be not perfect
but be what you can
Know that I give you
all that I am

© 2006

“I don’t remember you.” Those words made their mark deeply. I found myself at the edge of a cliff all the landmarks of my affection gone.

Memories, from my first sight of him, cooing and reaching out his arms to me to the hundreds of outtings he, his mother and I made over the years screamed and careened past me. I didn’t know what to say. I felt an odd expression on my face - one I had no control to change.

“Really?” I muttered and tried not to sound sad. He was a child after all. Just eight years old. The complexity of human emotion still a concept he sought to grasp.

“Yeah, really.” He said it simply with no crack in the door to wedge my foot in.

I smiled and patted his arm. “Well, that’s okay honey. I remember you.”

It had been a long time. Fours years. Not long in adult time but it was half of his life span. Children change so much so quickly. I told myself it was okay. Not to feel sad or disappointed. I told myself I was still happy to see him. But I wasn’t very convincing. It gave the day, one of celebration - not just for a holiday dedicated to blessings and thankfulness but of the reunion with Julie, my best friend a different color.

She had moved four years ago to Montanna. How it broke my heart. Though I understood her need to get out of a big city, she had a young child to raise on her own and didn’t want him to grow up around gangs, drugs, crime and everything else that is unhealthy for children growing up in big cities. We managed to stay in touch. To phone and write and send gifts at the appropriate occasions…but it wasn’t the same. There was void without her - without them.

Travis, her son, was as much a part of my life as Julie had been. We went everywhere together. Did everything together. We even discussed the idea that if anything ever happened to her (God forbid) that I would take Travis in a heartbeat. How could I not? He had captured my heart and love the moment I looked into his big green eyes.

The Thanksgiving reunion was not just with Julie but with Travis as well. Except it really wasn’t. Because he didn’t remember me. And I didn’t know how to respond to that. Did I just back off and talk to him as though we’d just met? Ask him about school and his hobbies? It did make sense though - his reaction when I hugged him. The blank look in his eyes. The rigidness of his body. The way children act when doting strangers pinch their cheeks and tell them how much they’ve grown. I suddenly felt like that whacky old aunt that nobody remembers and everybody cringes at their presence.

The evening went on. We played Trivial Pursuit - laughed at the same old jokes and one liners that old friends do. I caught him watching me a few times and I wondered what went on in his mind. Was he remembering? He warmed up a little. Told me about his favorite movie. Complained about his younger siblings who had come into being during the four years in Montanna. Talked about his Dad (the man Julie had married and whom I was yet to meet as well). And I think out of politeness said he thought I was starting to look familiar.

Until the evening came to an end and he discovered I was going back to the hotel room with them. “Where are you going to sleep?” he wanted to know. “Somewhere,” I shrugged sensing an upset in the near future. He didn’t take kindly to giving up a bed to himself and having to share a bed with his mom. No, that wasn’t going to do at all.

And so went the next two days. Little cracks and remarks, cold stares, pouting. Each time my heart broke a little bit more. I chided myself for being so childish. I was the adult. It was my job to take it in stride. I really wanted to, I really did - but I couldn’t quite get over the shock of it. Couldn’t quite accept that I was forgettable. Reason, logic did not work in this scenario.

The night before I left he got upset about a movie or something…it was a trivial thing. I teased him and said “don’t worry I’m leaving tomorrow.” “Yeah and none too soon, either,” he snapped.

That sent me over the edge. I went to the patio and cried. I mourned the loss of my friend Travis. I finally accepted that whatever had happened in the past didn’t matter. It might just have well not happened.

It’s an odd thing when a child forgets you - no matter how much you remember them. When they look at you as they would any stranger. When you want to hug someone who is wary of you. I cannot really describe it.

At the very end we got to know each other a little - in a clean slate sort of way. I rescued him and took him on a little errand while his mother wrangled with the two little ones. I think he decided he might like me.

When we said goodbye he almost looked sad. Maybe some memory was winding its way to his awareness. Maybe it doesn’t matter. He hugged me many times and said “I love you.”

And in the end maybe that’s all that matters.

Copyright 2006

My last sight of them will come soon. A tangle of copper colored hair flying in the wind as she pulls away in the big white truck. A goofy four-year-smile pressed up against the window. A giggle I won’t hear. The taste of McDonald’s still on my lips (from our last fine meal together). The world will be bigger then, as the distance puts us farther apart. The days will be longer and less mirthful. When we’ll see each other again, I don’t know. There’ll be phone calls, perhaps letters and emails…but it won’t be the same. Good bye Jen, see you in the funny papers. Arthur, take good care of your mommy.

Blessed night came and I got the kids settled down. Paul sat on the sofa, listening to soft, lovely music. He had that out-of-this-world look and stared at his own thoughts. I put my hand on his shoulder. “Are they asleep?” Paul asked, knowing I was there.

I collapsed into the beanbag chair. “They’re pretending to be.”

Paul smiled. “They’re so mature. I expected them to be smaller.”

“They were, when you left them.” I couldn’t help myself.

Paul took a hankie from his pocket and waved it. “Truce? At least until I’m dead. Then you can hate me all you want.”

I couldn’t respond because I was terrified I’d burst into tears. Again.

“Either we’re on the same side or we’re not, sis.”

I nodded. “Okay. Truce.”

******

After Paul went to bed, I looked in on the kids. The bedside lamp was on, but covered with a pillow case casting a low light. Robby’s answer to no night-light.

“Robby, why do you hate Daddy so much?” Emily asked.

Robby sighed. “He ain’t our dad.”

“Mommy said he is. She wouldn’t lie to us.” Emily insisted.

Robby punched his pillow. “Because he’s a jerk, okay? I hate him because he’s a jerk.”

I knocked lightly on the door and came in. “Hey, you guys should be sleeping,” I smiled. “The Sandman is falling down on the job again.”

Emily giggled but Robby sulked.

“Annie, is my daddy a jerk?” Emily asked.

I sat on the floor between their two beds. “No, honey. He’s not always good at making decisions but he’s not a jerk. He has a good heart.”

“That’s what you say,” Robby snorted.

“Robby, look, you’re old enough now that you have to behave a little better.” I tried to take his hand but he pulled away from me. “I know you’re pissed. I don’t blame you. I would be too.”

“Then why did you make us come here?” he griped.

“Because part of growing up is doing things that you don’t necessarily want to do. Sometimes, even if you hate it, you have to do the right thing.” I looked into his deep blue eyes, Paul’s eyes, and hoped I was reaching him.

“So I gotta be nice to him because he’s going to die?” Robby sneered.

“All I’m saying is don’t mix up your anger at him with hate. You don’t hate your father. You love him. That’s why you’re so mad.”

“Yeah, right,” he said and turned his back to me.

“Is Daddy scared, because he’s going to die, Annie?” Emily asked.

I stroked her soft cheek. “No, honey, I think your daddy understands that part. But I think he’s worried that he won’t be able to show you how much he loves you before he does though.”

Emily thought about it for a minute. “Then why’d he leave us?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I only know that you have a chance to see him now. I hope when you’re older you’ll think of it as a gift that God gave you.”

“Like my angel?” Emily whispered.

I hugged her. “Yes, sweet girl, just like your angel.”

****

Paul:
The morning sun caressed my face, its warmth a soft hand on my cheek. I smiled at the goldness and felt good to be in my own bed. I remembered that my sister and my kids were here with me. My stomach did that flip-flop that made my mind race ahead of itself. But there wasn’t time to dwell on it. I didn’t know how much time I had to do everything.

I got up and thanked God for giving me a chance with Emily and Robby. Even if it went bad, it didn’t matter. Being near them for even a few minutes was worlds better than to have left without seeing them at all.

My feet were cold, but I couldn’t find my slippers. My stomach growled. I was so hungry. Breakfast! I felt inspired to cook.

The house was asleep. Annie was on the sofa, smiling in her sleep. Like when we were kids. I always wondered if her dreams were that sweet or if her mouth just couldn’t help itself. When I entered the kitchen, I discovered my slippers on my Emily’s feet. I was in awe of that beautiful, little creature. How could I have had a part in her creation? God gave me a gift I’d never anticipated.

She talked to herself, or maybe the angel she said watched over me. “Yes,” she murmured, “Uh huh.”

“Morning, little one.” I tousled her russet curls.

Her face was better than sunshine. “Morning, Daddy-o.”

I made coffee, toast and eggs. The room filled with buttery, warm smells. “How’s my angel?”

Emily gave the question some consideration. “Fine. He said that God loves you.” The gold flecks in her eyes gleamed.

We ate and talked and laughed. It felt just so normal, as if we’d done it all our lives. I prayed I’d carry her face with me when I left this life. Certain it would give me the courage to face what would come next.

Annie stumbled in. She listened to me and Emily and derived contentment from our nonsense.

My little cloud, Robby, joined us too. He made sure I saw his resentment. He refused any food my hand had touched. He ate cold cereal after sniffing it, the bowl spoon and the milk. “You look like a puppy,” Emily laughed, “Smelling everything.”

I drank my coffee and read the paper. Robby scrutinized me like a science lab specimen. Annie and Emily were doing girl stuff in the bathroom.

“Is there something you want to say to me?”

“No.” Robby left the room.

“You’re doing good. He’s coming around,” Annie teased, appearing out of nowhere.

“You call that coming around?” I joked.

“It’s a start,” Annie said.

I took in the sight of my sister and my daughter, two beauties from the same planet. Emily could have been Annie’s daughter and I wished for her sake that she was.

“We’re going to get our hair done,” Annie announced. “You boys must fend for yourselves.”

The terror in my eyes made the girls laugh. They kissed my cheek, wished me luck and left.

Robby groaned when he found them gone. “And I’m supposed to babysit you?” he griped.

“I’m going to paint. You can do whatever you want.” I said as if I didn’t care but my heart pounded so hard that I worried the neighbors could hear it.

He pretended not to watch as I mixed the paints and daubed the canvas. I felt his eyes follow every move. I felt his interest.

“Somebody teach you that?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Just sort of taught myself. I wanted to take lessons when I was your age.”

“Then why didn’t you?” the question was a dare.

“My folks didn’t have the money for foolish things,” I said casually but felt the hurt that I felt then.

Robby laughed. It sounded good. His laugh. I wanted to hear it again.

“Parents,” he complained. “They never think you know what’s important. If they don’t think of it, then it’s not important. Right?”

I nodded and kept painting. I knew if I kept painting, he’d keep talking. I mixed paints in vain, trying to find the exact color of green of Annie’s eyes. I cursed to myself.

He came up behind me and studied my work. “It looks like her.”

“You think so?” I asked feeling hopeful.

He grunted an affirmative. “Like how she looks on the inside,” he said thoughtfully. My heart did a triple axle. My son understood what I was trying to do.

I gave him the brush. “Want give it a shot?”

His face became a grin. “I don’t know nothing…”

“It’s the color of her eyes,” I said. “I can’t find the right mix…”

**********

Annie:
When we got back, they were covered in paint and laughing. Emily looked up at me and said, “Look, Annie. They like each other!” I let out a breath I’d been holding since I got there. Maybe it would be okay. Happy tears warmed my cheeks. I hugged Emily. “You’re right.”

********

Paul:
I checked the clock, three a.m. If I worked a little longer, I knew I could finish. When they woke up, they’d see it. I felt such joy at the thought. Dawn. Finished. I got the insurance papers and everything she’d need for the kids and put them on the kitchen table. It was time. I woke them.

*****

Annie:
We huddled on the vinyl couch in the hospital waiting room. Robby and Emily cried and whimpered. Barbara sat across from us, trying not to invade our grief. Emily said, “Want to sit with us?” She patted next to her. Barbara joined us. She took my hand and squeezed it. I was thankful she was there and didn’t care if I owed her anything anymore. The doctor came out, dressed in surgical greens. “Are you going to operate?” I was frantic.

The doctor nodded. “One of his lungs has collapsed.”

I couldn’t speak.

“Follow me,” she said.

She took us into Paul’s room. He’d aged twenty years since he’d arrived. The sound he made to breathe scared all of us.

Paul lit up at the sight of us. “Hey Doc did you meet my kids? This is Emily. She’s going to be a movie star when she grows up. Robby is going to be a great painter, just like his old man.”

The doctor smiled and told us we only had a few minutes.

He grinned at us. “Hey what are you doing so far away?”

We went to him, crying but trying to smile.

Robby hugged him the best he could amongst all the tubes and wires going in and out of Paul. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, son.” Paul whispered.

“Daddy, are you going to Heaven now?” Emily asked.

“I don’t know honey,” he said. “But give me a hug just in case.”

Robby picked up Emily so she could hug Paul’s neck.

The doctor looked in and nodded at me. It was time to leave. “Okay kids, say good bye to your daddy.”

Paul took my hand, “On the kitchen table…I have papers….”

“I’ll find them. Don’t worry. I’ll find them.” I put my cheek to his, our tears mixed.

“Thank you, Annie. For loving my kids…for loving me.”

“What about Mom and Dad?” I knew he’d never make it through the surgery. “What should I tell them?”

He whispered in my ear, “Tell them I died happy.”

My spirit always raised a little whenever I saw Robby and Emily. They reminded me so much of me and Paul at their ages. The way Robby leaned in to show that he was Emily’s protector to any stranger who might have looked her way. How her eyes shone when she looked into his stern and handsome face. “Robby! Emily!” I called out. So many laughs and hugs and giggles. Like old times. Who cared that we were in a crazy airport being bumped and tripped over by strangers? Robby was a bean pole who wanted to be a star pitcher for the Detroit Tigers. He was never without the ratty cap my dad got him from the first game they saw together. Emily was an Irish beauty in miniature, with wavy auburn hair and sparkly green eyes. He was twelve and very serious about approaching adulthood. She was eight and still believed in Santa Claus. What a pair.
On the drive to Paul’s house in Cambridge, Emily asked, “Annie, where’s my daddy?”
“He’s Annie’s brother,” Robby corrected her. “We don’t have a dad.”
Emily’s face clouded. “We do too! Right, Annie?”
I narrowed my eyes in the rearview mirror at Robby. “That’s right, Em. We’ll see him soon. At the hospital.”

Robby slunked down in the backseat like a prisoner on Death Row. “How long do we have to stay?” He didn’t wait for an answer because he knew one wasn’t coming. After a quick, cold stare at me in the mirror he pulled his sketchbook and colored pens from his backpack and doodled.

****

Paul’s apartment was a happy surprise. He had antiques that were grand and deep and rich in color and other funny little things that he probably found in thrift shops. Goofy, bright-colored bowls, a lava lamp and a bean bag chair.

I knew it was Paul, but a Paul I didn’t know.

Paul had framed and hung his charcoal sketches on the walls. Three big bay windows let in so much sunshine that the room almost smiled. His cherished easel, paints and brushes sat right next to that lovely light. I saw an unfinished painting of a woman who looked familiar. When I took a closer look, I saw it was me, in another life and time. An old Polaroid of me was clipped to the top of the easel. I was touched that he’d wanted to paint me and that I had remained a part of his life, though I didn’t know.

Emily was openly curious and nosed around, looking into everything and every room. “This is neat!” she declared.

Robby froze only a few feet into the apartment and looked like something would jump out and swallow him up if he moved. He pretended to shiver, “Gives me the creeps.”

I had to coax Robby the whole way down the hallway while Emily could barely control her excitement. “Come on!” she called out and disappeared into the back room. I felt encouraged, a little, maybe Robby would be the only tough nut to crack in this situation. She’d probably melt when she saw her father.

Robby said, “I don’t think we should stay here, Annie. What if… what if?” An Academy Award performance, it wasn’t.

Emily popped her head out the door. “What if what?”

I gave Robby the evil eye and he relented. “Nothing, geek.”

Emily stuck out her tongue at him and disappeared back into the room.

Robby pouted. “Okay, but I’m not going to talk to him. You can’t make me. Can’t make me like him.”

The small guestroom was just big enough for a couple of twin beds and a dresser.

“Where are you going to sleep, Annie?” Emily asked concerned.

Robby ripped off the bed clothes from the bed.

“Robby, stop it!”

Robby wouldn’t look at me. “I’m not going to catch what he’s got!” He screamed like an injured animal. He kicked and screamed some more. Emily cried and backed into a corner.

“Robby, stop it!” I yelled though I wanted to be calm. “What’s the matter with you?” I sounded like my mother.

Emily cried harder. “Stop it, Robby! Stop it!”

Robby was flushed and shook with rage. “He’s not my father! He’s not! I hate him!” He made baby sounds and murmured to himself lost in a secret world of anguish.

“Robby please…”

“No, no, no! Take me home!” he erupted again.

“Robby, please! Your dad is sick. He can’t handle this.” Regret crept up and tapped me on the shoulder. I’d only made matters worse. It wouldn’t work. It never could.

Emily stopped crying and smiled. “Who’s that?” she pointed but I couldn’t look because I was trying to get through to Robby.

Emily giggles, “Yeah, I see you. I hear you too. Who are you?” She cooed like a dove. “Uh huh…Sister Mary-Margaret says angels are God’s messengers.” She laughed and pointed to Robby, “I don’t know…he’s really stubborn.”

Robby stopped ranting and eyed Emily, then back to me. “Who is she talking to?”

They exhausted me already and we’d only been there ten minutes. “Nobody. She’s not talking to anybody.”

Emily continued her conversation like we could all see her imaginary friend. She laughed from her belly. “An angel named Al? That’s silly.”

“Emily, who you talking to, sweetie?” I asked, hoping my voice sounded calm and steady.

“Nobody. Just pretending,” she said then started singing a song I didn’t know.

“Geek.” Robby said it like a dirty word.

We heard the door open and then voices. I rushed toward the front room. The kids didn’t move.

Paul and Barbara greeted me as I entered the room. “Hello, there.” Paul sat propped on the sofa as Barbara wheeled a respirator next to him. Though he made a lemon face at Barbara’s coddling, he grinned too.

“How’s that?” Barbara asked.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I thought you had to stay in the hospital.”

Barbara grinned like a naughty kid. “We kind of finessed them. See, I’m a nurse. I told them I’d stick around and keep a watch on him.”

“And are you?” I asked. “Are you going to keep an eye on him?”

“I’m five minutes away, just pick up the phone and I’m here in an instant,” she assured me.

“They’re here?” Paul asked with dread.

Emily ran into the room and stopped short of jumping into Paul’s lap. “Are you my daddy?”

Paul melted at the sight of his beautiful little girl. “Yes, I’m your daddy.”

She smiled from head to toe. She went at him like a little fullback and threw her arms around him. “Oh, Daddy! Hi, Daddy.”

“Let go of him!” Robby the monster ordered her. We all jumped at his angry voice. “You want to die like him? Don’t touch him!”

Emily pulled away from Paul but didn’t know what to do.

“That’s not true, Emily,” Paul said gently. “Touching me won’t hurt you. I can’t make you sick like I am.”

“Don’t you touch my sister,” Robby screamed at Paul.

“Robby, this is your father. Mind your tongue!” I scolded him with absolutely no effect.

“He’s not my father. Just some stupid faggot who’s gonna die.” He stormed down the hall and slammed the door to his room.

“Nothing like a warm welcome,” Paul joked, but none of us laughed.

****

(To be continued….) copyright 2006

I sat on the bed and traced the paisley pattern of the ugly bedspread as I talked to my mom. She talked. I listened. I needed a smoke, but I quit. I paced, instead.It was my turn to talk. “Yeah Ma, I saw him. He looks okay. Have you talked to the kids? Jane going to let them…you know…come out? Tell her I’ll take really good care of them. What? She said that? Well you tell her he’s dying and that his kids should at least see him before… What do you mean? Don’t say that! Face it Ma, it’s happening, we can’t stop it! Ma, Ma, don’t cry. Please. Okay… yeah, I’ll call you. Bye.”I hung up the phone and lay down on the bed. I was so cold I shivered although the room was warm. Rain tapped against the window. “The angels are dropping water balloons,” my dad used to say. I smiled and wished I were five, again.I went to the window and watched the rain.“God, I don’t know if I believe in you anymore, but if you’re there, could you please help me?”Somebody knocked. I wondered who it was. I felt scared. Alone in a strange city.