Life So Perfect

  Maddie smiled and said, “There must be lots of memories growing up here. Her smile continued as Joe talked about the endless memories these streets held – touch football games with what seemed a hundred neighborhood kids; setting off fireworks on the Fourth, hoping the neighbors would not call the police on them; racing bikes up and down the street; games of tag; sitting on the curb just being kids, just being alive.

  Joe laughed and then sighed. “Heck. I’m rambling.” He looked at her and smiled. “There’s no end to these memories. It’s like they’re all coming at me, coming and filling my heart up. But … Maddie, all of sudden, they hurt so much. Memories of … he’s gone now.”

  Maddie took his hand and squeezed it. “I know it hurts. But it’s good. Chuck, he lives in those memories. Tell me more.” Maddie put her arm through his. Ten blocks later and a stream of quiet tears released from both, Maddie stopped and stepped in front of Joe. She pulled his head down and kissed him on the lips. She said, “That’s for saving me.”

  Joe bowed and said, “You’re welcome.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “Thanks for being … being here … being a friend. God. I’ve been going on and on. Maddie? What’d ’bout you? How you doing? How you feeling?”

  Feeling? What do I feel? What should I feel. I know … I think he loves me. I don’t know what to do. It’s not right. What’s right? What’s wrong? Do I love him? No. I can’t. What am I afraid of? “I’m good. I am. Are you … going to go back to school soon? I want to get back quick, after Steven’s funeral on Monday. I need an ordinary life. Get back to boring.” Maddie felt stupid after those words came out. So superficial. Avoiding, still avoiding. What do I want to feel? Why I am I afraid to feel?

  Joe shrugged, then sighed and said, “I’m gonna do online school the rest of the year. Maybe I’ll go back … for my senior year. I don’t know yet. I guess I’m afraid to go back right now. I need to figure out … geez, I don’t know what I need to figure out.”

  Maddie chuckled. “That’s okay.” She put her arm around his waist. They continued walking. Maddie laughed under her breath, then said, “One thing I figured out is that I am very good at making things too complicated. And I’m going to stop making life so god-awful hard. When I think of all the stupid things I’ve done … just making life harder than it should be. One thing I learned, being in the hospital and in that brat camp … well, my life has been pretty damn good. It could be perfect if I quit mucking it up.”

  Maddie stopped and looked him in the eyes. God he had such puppy dog eyes. She had an urge to kiss him again – a real, a passionate, I-really-really-like-you kiss. She looked down and a nervous giggle slipped out. God, no. He must think I’m such an idiot. This is a funeral, a.wake. Death. Grief. Can’t smile. Can’t laugh. And good God, don’t lead him on. She glanced toward his eyes; was it the grief? Or confusion? Or hopelessness she saw? Fear. Maybe it was fear. “I’m sorry. I’m the one babbling on now. Joe, what are you afraid of?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. You just look so afraid. Maybe I’m wrong.” Hell. I’m a fool. Just keep your mouth shut Maddie.

  “You might be right. So many emotions. But, yeah, I’m scared. Scared things will never be normal again. I’ll never be normal.”

  “I’ve always believed that normal is a highly overrated virtue. What’s normal anyway?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m … I guess, Maddie, I’m scared about us. Scared we … crap, never mind. I don’t know what I mean. You just confuse me sometimes. I don’t know how to … I don’t know if you …no, forget it. Just forget it.”

  “No. That’s good. I’m scared too. I don’t know what we’re supposed to be. Oh, that sounds stupid. Why’s this so hard?” Maddie felt her cheeks grow warm; she knew they were turning a rosy shade of embarrassment.

  Joe words stumbled out. “I think … we should just be … you know, friends. But …then again … Damn it. Damn it. Screw it. I … I love you Maddie. There. I said it. Right or wrong, I said it. And I don’t know if I can just be your friend. It’s getting too hard.” Joe brushed her bangs from her face.

  What do I feel? What should I feel? Fear. That’s what I feel. Fear. Just not ready. Maybe never will be. Never-ever will be ready! “You know what. This isn’t the time to be … worrying about that. And I’m sorry, I don’t mean to lead you on or anything. I’m scared too. Just … we … you’re right, we just need to be friends. Okay?” She turned and started walking briskly down the street towards Joe’s house

  Joe caught up with her and said, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I take it all back. What I said, that ‘L’ word. I never said any of that. Okay?”

  “Love’s such a complicated and strange entity that defies human understanding. Joe, I can’t deal with complex right now. Yeah, what was that you just said? I don’t remember. Oh well, never mind.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Joe placed two eagle feathers on the casket; feathers Steven found when he threw up beside his truck near Rising Sun Ranch. Circled around the graveside stood Joe and Maddie and their families, and two social workers from Indian Child Welfare. Behind them were Braxton, Angie, Miss Linda, Tim, Steven’s therapist in the hospital, and four other staff members from the hospital.

  As the casket disappeared into its black hole, a Blackfoot shaman offered prayers, which seemed to smooth a spirit hidden deep within Joe’s battered psyche. “Oh, Grand Father the sky, Oh Grand Mother the Earth, grant unto this your child a holy blessing as he journeys to join our ancestors. Welcome him, sustain him. Our Mother the Earth, let his quest for communion with you be as spacious as the sky and as magnificent as the Eagle that soars high in your unending kingdom.” The shaman scooped up a handful of dirt and tossed it onto the coffin. He turned and raised his hands in benediction. “Now, let us walk about Mother Earth in balance and in peace, for beneath our feet lay the bones of our noble ancestors.”

  Joe tossed a handful of dirt into the grave. He looked down and whispered, “Thank you, Steven. You are the best friend I ever had.” Joe felt his chest caving inward. He could have never imagined that grief, a mere emotion, could create such crushing physical pain. He feared his body could not endure any more of this, the cruelest of emotions. A lone tear trickled down his cheek. Then his legs weakened; he feared they would buckle. Oh God. Give me strength. Give me something … strength … no, a reason … a reason to live.

  Joe felt an arm slide around his waist. Maddie, with a soft voice said, “Goodbye dear Steven. Goodbye. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t. I’m sorry.” She whispered in Joe’s ear, “This isn’t fair. It’s not right.”

  Joe said, “He’s okay. He is okay.” How many times had Joe said that in the last few days: A hundred? A thousand? Maybe another thousand times and he might begin to believe it.

  Maddie rubbed his back. “You’re right. Death is a journey. That’s our hope. Death is a journey to somewhere better, greater. It’s not over for him. It’s only a beginning.” They stepped back from the grave. Maddie embraced Joe and said “Tomorrow. Joe, can you come over? To my house and spend some time with a crazy kid from the lunatic ward? I know it’s against your holier-than-thou principles, but…”

  Joe looked at Maddie, a puzzled look became etched on his face and his mind went blank. He drew in a breath to speak and for some reason just shrugged.

  She looked away and muttered, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  Joe shook his head. “No. Geez, of course I want to. We need each other right now. I mean as friends.” Friends. Yes. Just friends. Has to be that way. Damn it all.

  “Great.” Maddie handed Joe a piece of scrap paper. “The code to the gate. About six?”

  “Sure.” Joe said. Just friends? But I want more, need more. She must know that. No. Just stop hoping for more. Friends. That’s what it is. That’s what it’s got to be. “That’ll be great.”

  With a strange and growing numbness vying to take o
ver his body and being, Joe walked toward his family standing by his father’s car. Then, a low and raspy voice called his named. He turned and saw Braxton walking towards him.

  “Hey,” Joe said, wondering how he should greet a counselor in public – with a handshake, a hug, a nod? He said, “It was really nice you were here … that you could all come.”

  Braxton leaned forward and embraced Joe with a firm grasp. Joe’s arms tried to respond but seemed to fall limp. His counselor pulled back and said, “I want you to come to my office at the hospital. We’ll have natter, for old time’s sake. Eh? You’re dealing with a lot. You don’t have to do it on your own, Joe. You call me. We’ll set up a time. Okay?”

  Joe nodded and said, “Thanks. I will.” Joe’s voice lacked conviction.

  “Hey, kiddo, promise me. You will give me a call.”

  “Sure. I will. That would be good.” It would be good. Necessary. You don’t have to do it on your own. You can’t do it on your own. You don’t have to be alone. “I’ll call. Soon. Thanks.” Nothing wrong with asking for help. We all need help.

  ***

  “Play it. That thing you played on New Year’s Eve.” Joe said, pointing toward the grand piano on the far side of the huge living room. He sat on the floor with Maddie, their backs rested against an oversized suede sofa – that must be big enough for at least six people, was Joe’s first thought when he entered the room.

  Maddie gasped then said, “Oh my God! What a New Year’s Eve was that. And what a Christmas Day. Days we’ll never forget.” Maddie laughed.

  Her laughter – it was soothing, healing. Laughter had been silent, been impossible the past few months. Doesn’t laughter remind us that hope hasn’t died? “I like it when you laugh. I need to laugh more.”

  “Yes, you do.” Maddie said. “Play what? Chopin or Debussy?”

  “Debussy I think. Cloud da loom.”

  Maddie laughed hard. “Clair de lune, you twat. Claire de lune.”

  “I was close enough. Play it.”

  Maddie got up, curtsied, and strutted proudly to the grand piano. She played. Haunting harmonies resonated throughout the room. The subtle but emotive notes of Debussy entranced Joe’s senses. He stared at Maddie; the unassuming maestro, master and commander of the keyboard, so alive as she played. Joe felt that each note given life was working to heal his battered and damaged soul. “Play it again. Again, dear maestro.” Joe begged when the last notes faded.

  “Nooo. I’ll play this. One I need to be practicing.” She ruffled through a pile of sheet music. “Here. Chopin’s Nocturne in E flat major. One of his best.” With a posh English accent meant to mimic her piano instructor, she said, “‘It is a source of most ineffable delights, but likewise a restless, agitating bewilderment. Perhaps his finest work indeed. Indeed.’ Well, that’s how my piano teacher describes it. See what you think.”

  The work’s boundless melodic line, enriched by a simple harmonic theme drew Joe into the strangely sensual piece of music. As he listened and watched, the beauty of the music touched his soul. Tears filled his eyes; tears responding to a realization that life is beautiful, that life is special. Never before had Joe understood that music reminds us … no, declares, that life is worth living, worth celebrating.

  When Maddie finished, she joined Joe still sitting on the floor by the sofa. He said, “Will you marry me.”

  “Oh yeah? You just want me for my talent.” Maddie laid on the floor and rested her head on Joe’s ankles.

  “Well, yeah. You’re amazing. You should be playing in that place… that place in New York.”

  “Carnegie Hall. I’m a long way from that. But who knows. You know, music, it saved me. My piano teacher talks about the classics being psychodrama.” Joe chuckled. “Yeah, I know. But it is. The great composers, it’s all about their personal pain, their highs and lows, their inner anguish and agony. You know, they say Beethoven was bipolar. And think about it, his greatest works came after he became deaf.” Joe shook his head. “It’s true. The pain, the joy, the hope. It’s all there in their music. When I play, all my emotions emerge, flow. I feel real, alive. I …What? Don’t look at me like that. It’s true.”

  Joe nodded. He studied her face – to reach out and stroke her hair, her cheeks, a face that reflected purity and goodness. Joe could see something different – she had changed. Her eyes gleamed with a new sense of joy and anticipation; childlike, she had recaptured a childlike innocence. She had overcome the evil that threatened to destroy her. “You’ve changed.” Joe said quietly, almost apologetically.

  “What do you mean? I’m just me.”

  “Yeah. It’s you. Just you. Why? Why’d you have to lie about things? Hide you talent? Pretend you were poor and stupid. You lied about you age, the school you went to. What else have you lied about?”

  “Don’t remember. Oh. That’s a lie. That I did cocaine. Um, and that I was pregnant and had an abortion. That I had a boyfriend who committed suicide. God, I can’t believe all the things I lied about. I’m done with that. It’s embarrassing really.”

  “Why’d you hide behind lies?”

  “That is a very good question Mr. Kline. Hell if I know.”

  “Yes you do.”

  Maddie sat up and scooted next to Joe. “It’s shame. Shame of who I was.”

  “Shame about being rich, talented, smart, pretty? Perfect?”

  Maddie’s head shook slowly. “The abuse. And the secrets. They destroy us. They pervert and distort everything. I suppose it’s like hiding in an alternative universe. Trying to create a fantasy world so you don’t have to deal with the shame, the guilt … deal with the reality of being abused. Being worthless. Doesn’t make sense. But human beings have trouble making sense most of the time, don’t you think? I wish I were a cat.” Maddie meowed and pawed at Joe’s head. She laughed and said, “Cats have such an easy life. Everything’s on their terms; when they eat, when they want to be stroked, when they want you to leave them the hell alone. The life of a cat would suit me. What would you be? What animal would you be?”

  “God, I don’t know. Maybe a gorilla. Big and burly, so no one wants to mess with you, but they still think you’re cute.”

  “I can see you as a gorilla.” She paused and stroked his cheek. “So when you gonna stop pushing people away. And become a cuddly teddy bear. That’s what you want to be. I can tell.”

  “Yuck. Teddy bears aren’t animals anyway.”

  “Joe, who are you? I don’t know if I really know you … like for real. I only know a few bits. What are your dreams? What excites you? Motivates you? What do you believe … about God, about anything?”

  “Green’s my favorite color. Does that help?” Joe smiled, but a sudden urge slapped him in the face; to get up and leave. This unsettling emotion demanded he run away; avoid the questions, the probing. Why? Why’s that question so uncomfortable? It’s true. I do push people away. Who am I? The answer’s simple. He might as well be honest with her and himself. “Truth is, I don’t know who I am. And I’m afraid to find out, because I know I won’t what I’ll find. I used to pretend to be the tough jock, the rough and tough football player. I hid behind that. Now that’s gone. I don’t know how to pretend to be anything else. You know, I keep trying to pretend to be strong, like I used to be. But I can’t even do that anymore. I don’t know. I don’t know who, what, why I am.”

  Maddie elbowed him. “Who’s lying now? I don’t believe that. I can tell you who you are. You’re the kind of human being who cared enough to take in a kid who everyone hated and no one understood, a kid who spent his life pushing people away. And you were the only one who cared enough to see through his hurt; the only one able to get close to him. And you’re the kind of human being that accepted a damaged girl who was hell bent on destroying her life. You didn’t care what she’d done to herself, what’d been done to her. You helped her believe she didn’t have be a victim, that she could be a survivor. You had the courage to risk your life to save her life.
You found the strength to forgive your dad, and you gave him a chance and now you have your father in your life. You are a human being who buried his brother and his best friend and is finding the strength and the … the fight to move on. You are someone who understands hurts and pain and suffering, and … Well, that’s who you are. Don’t tell me you don’t know who you are. Be proud of who you are.” She placed her index finger on his heart, “And inside there, are dreams and hopes and love that are begging to come out. Quit trying to be the tough football player, the guy too tough to tackle. You don’t have to pretend about anything.” She kissed him on the cheek, grinned then said, “You know, life, it’s pure and simply about learning … learning who we are, and, it’s about daring to be who we are. Life is about learning to just be.”

  Joe looked into Maddie’s eyes. They sparkled with life, with a quiet joy. He needed to embrace her, kiss her, love her; he needed to release his passion, his love for her. Forbidden. The line had been drawn. Just friends. Just friends. He said, “What a philosopher you are, dear Maddie. And … well thanks for … just being here for me.” A lone tear slid down his cheek.

  Maddie wiped the tear away, then took his hand and entwined his fingers with hers. She said, “I’ll always be here. We’ll get each other through all the days that are gonna be racing toward us.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  “Flashbacks? Nightmares? On edge?” Braxton leaned forward with a slight tilt of the head. Joe knew that gesture well; it was the one that probably all counselors use to convey concern, while at the same time offering the assurance that it is safe – safe to be.

  “Yes, yes and yes. But not too bad.”

  “Normal stuff. These post-traumatic stress symptoms, they can be difficult, real buggers. It’s all normal. Been able to handle it pretty well, then?”