Salvation
Part One by Andrea Lena DiMaggio |
Danny was living in his private hell, but soon he would find his - Salvation
You’re Just Like Your Mother
"Argento dives into the hole behind second base, but has no play. Wait...he flipped it out of his glove backhand and the runner is out at second. That’s it....The Hawks win the semis. His teammates run to Smith, the pitcher, and celebrate. Smith pitches a one hitter for his eighth win of the season." The announcer shouted over the loud speaker.
The crowd quickly began to empty the stands. Danny looked in vain for his mother, who probably got stuck in traffic after work. She attended almost all of his games, but couldn’t break away for this one. She’d be at the championship, since it was on Saturday.
"Hey...Argento...nice play. Too bad you stunk up the plate," Johansen, the first base coach shouted over the crowd noise. Typical baseball banter, you might think. But the coach was sincerely cruel in his taunts. The regular shortstop, Calliente, was recovering from a strained hammy, and would be back by Saturday to claim his spot on the field. Danny would be relegated once again to the end of the bench, with the likelihood of remaining there, since he was just an afterthought to the rest of the team.
"Hey, Danny," the head coach said. "Don’t mind Johansen...he’s just teasing." Mr. Garibaldi tried to encourage Danny, but Johansen was only saying what the rest of the team thought.
"Be ready for the seventh on Saturday," the coach said. Collier, the regular back-up, was at an interview at Penn State, being the number two pitcher as well. The chances of Danny getting into the game were slim and none.
"That’s okay, Coach G. I understand."
Baseball was pretty much it for Danny in the activity department. He was almost a whopping 132 pounds "soaking" wet, and could hit for average, given a chance. He fielded well, and could be counted on to perform when he got to play, which was rare.
"I’m sure the girl’s would appreciate you more on the softball team," Coach Johansen had teased. "How well do you keep score?" What hurt the most was that Johansen was also his dad’s step-brother. Uncle Jack didn’t have any respect for his nephew, following along in his brother’s footsteps by ragging Danny without mercy. Jerry, Danny’s dad, would have continued his own relentless abuse of his son had he survived the impact that he sustained after flying through his windshield after one too many shots of Jim Beam. While he was alive, he had accomplished two things. He had destroyed whatever relationship he had with his wife, and he pretty much wrecked Danny’s "ego strength,’ as the experts say.
Danny had no friends, and his only family consisted of his mom and the family dog, both of whom loved him. Uncle Jack, despite pleas from Grace, Danny’s mom, continued the family tradition of drinking while driving. He was a frustrated athlete himself, the product of a blown ACL sustained during a tumble down the knoll behind the high school after too much Budweiser.
"You are such a wuss," Uncle Jack said all too often. "Your mother should have had a girl...the bitch. You are just like her" Jack blamed Grace for his brother’s death, as she had not had the foresight to get out of her hospital bed after the last accident to prevent the next and final one Jerry would have. "You know, Danny, you’re just like your mother...Danny..? Hmmm. How about I start calling you Danielle? And he did...in front of the team. It took several warnings from Coach G for him to stop. At least in public. Jack continued his abuse when Coach G. was out of earshot.
Danny looked forward to Saturday when, victory or no, the season would finally come to a merciful halt. Jack had long ago ceased to come over, and Danny’s contact with his uncle would likely come to an end as well, since he planned to skip baseball next year.
Danny was having one of those introspective days we all experience much to our discomfort. His self-talk had degenerated into self-condemnation, and he had nothing to look forward to for the rest of the day except for boredom and his normal, everyday, wish-they-would-go-away feelings of doubt and hurt. He had no ride home, since his teammates had long abandoned him after the game. His celebration would consist of a nice stroll of about seventeen blocks to his house, since his mother would likely be working until well past midnight. She was an accountant...a senior one at that. He remembered that morning.
"It’s the end of the month, and Phil expects all of the work on his desk by 9 tomorrow." She handed him a twenty and kissed him on the forehead as she hurried out the door.
"I’ll try to make your game, but I can’t promise anything. In fact, I might have to stay past midnight, and if that’s the case, I’ll just grab a room at the Red Roof across the street. Get some pizza and have a good night. I love you," Grace said as she backed the car into the street and drove off. Danny’s game had finished at two, and the walk took him almost a half-hour, which left him and his dog Scooter the rest of the day and all night to watch cable or read a book.
What a life!
Danny got out of the shower. He grabbed his bathrobe, put it on, and walked back down the hall to his bedroom. He walked into the room and over to his bed, where the laundry basket sat where he had left it. Danny helped his mother wherever and whenever he could. His dad left virtually nothing in the way of help, so his mother worked at her regular job and did accounting work on the side. He did almost all of the housework, which made him a wuss in his uncle’s eyes.
What a jackass. His dad did as much as he could in the way of male-role-model by insisting Grace wait on him hand-and-foot, despite her full-time job and his inability to stay employed. The thing was...Danny didn’t hate his Dad, even after his abuse...even after his treatment of Danny’s mother. She was no doormat, to be sure. But she had forgiven Jack last year. "A birthday gift for your fifteenth, honey," Grace had told him. The playstation3 was enough, but that? How generous.
"Danny, you have to forgive your father. If you don’t everything good about you will die inside. Your Dad will have won."
It took nearly six months, but it finally sunk in. His mother told him about something she had read: "Holding in resentment is like me drinkin’ a bottle of poison and expectin’ the other guy to drop dead." Grace had demonstrated a great deal of patience and forebearance, but much more so, she loved her husband. Not a codependent or permissive love, but a true love that hopes all things, bears all things. She wasn’t named Grace for nothing, and her abiding faith is what helped Danny turn the corner.
But that pesky "ego-strength!" He had forgiven his dad, but the damage was done. Years of abuse destroyed most of what confidence he had, and his uncle and his teammates finished the job. Years of having his male self destroyed by his dad and uncle pushed him in a way he never would have thought to travel. (Don’t read ahead; I promise you everything turns out okay in the end.)
Danny poured the clothes onto the bed, looking for a pair of underwear.
Rummaging through the pile, he found what he thought he was looking for, but when he picked them up, he noticed that he had grabbed his mother’s undies, instead. He had held his mother’s clothing before, being responsible for laundry on most days. This time was different. Whether he was over-tired or just worn out from his uncle’s teasing, he probably couldn’t say, even now. But his hand seemed to refuse to release its grip, and he held the soft, smooth panties in his hand for nearly a minute. It was only a moment, really, but it would turn out to be a pivotal moment in his life.
Nothing really wrong with what he chose to do next. Certainly it wasn’t wrong for him, but it would take a long time before he figured that out, as some of you may have found out as well.
For the entire time he walked home, his uncle’s taunts rang horribly in his ears. Had he a friend to talk to, a person to trust, he would have discovered that it is entirely appropriate to be known as someone who was "just like" his mother.
But he had no friend, no support, and no understanding whatsoever about how he felt about himself and his world.
He was lying on his bed, face down, fast asleep. Tears of shame moistened his cheek, along with some spittle that had oozed out of his mouth after he cried himself to sleep. It really does happen, all too frequently, I might add. To be so exhausted after wrestling with inner demons and outer condemnation. The phone woke him with a start.
"Honey, I just called to see how your game went. Did you play?" His mother would have hugged him had she been home, but he probably would have pushed her away, less from his usual embarrassment as a teenage boy and more from the guilt and shame that plagued him.
"HH..hi, Mom…Oh, the game… Yeah, we won. Joey Calliente is still laid up with his hammy, and Bobby Collier was just away for his interview, so I had my moment in the sun."
"Honey, they should let you play more." Grace hid her anger well. She knew that the team could give him more playing time but for her idiot brother-in-law. She thought of her anger, asked for forgiveness and continued. "You just need a chance."
"Not gonna happen, Mom. Saturday’s the final, and Uncle Jack told me that he’d sooner play Hansen than me if it came to that." Hansen was the highly talented computer geek who kept score for the team. A nice enough kid in his own right, and probably destined to own a Fortune 500 company some day, but he had as much coordination as a cow on ice.
Grace changed the subject quickly, not wanting to make a difficult day any worse for her son.
"I’ll be home tomorrow…it’s pretty late, and the drive is just too much. Maybe we can go out for brunch when I get home." The drive was nearly twenty miles, and it was already 10:30 without any end in sight.
"That’s okay, mom, I’ll be fine until tomorrow, I promise. Scooter’s looking at me like I should be feeding him for the umpteenth time today. I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow."
"Okay, honey…you’re alright?"
"I’m fine," Danny said, more in trying to convince himself than his mother.
"Okay, honey…I love you so much!" Grace said and hung up.
She sat at her desk, and tears filled her eyes. Many of you may know that when someone tells you that they’re fine, it can often be an indication that they are not fine at all. Grace closed her eyes and prayed. Opening her eyes, she looked up and said, "Please take care of my boy."
Danny walked down the hallway, almost absentmindedly. He was cold, and a moment later realized why. He looked down and realized he wasn’t wearing any pants. No shirt or socks, for that matter. Scooter looked at him as if to say, "You should get dressed." Then Danny realized something else. Running down the hall, he ran into the bathroom. He took off the garment and threw it in the hamper. Grabbing a towel, he ran back into his bedroom. He looked in the mirror, and despised the sight before him. The boy in the mirror cursed him as being weak…you should just quit trying. He looked back at the boy and stared blankly. He had no argument, no excuse. He turned and walked to his dresser. Pulling out some PJ’s, he put them on. Sometimes we return to something uncomfortable, even if it hurts, because it’s familiar. He fell on the bed, trying hard not to duplicate his all-too-unwelcome habit, but he started sobbing, and soon was fast asleep.
The next day came and went. He and his mother went to the diner for a late breakfast after her return from work. She had the day off, now that the month’s figures were in, and her report was on her supervisor’s desk as promised. They spent the afternoon watching TV. A light dinner was followed quickly by an early bedtime for all, including Scooter, who fell asleep on the bed at Danny’s feet.
It would be wonderful to report that Calliente never recovered from his injury (not wishing any harm on him, mind you.)
It would be fantastic to tell you that Collier didn’t play because he was saving himself for summer ball. But it would be lie; a creative story inserted as a device to relieve dramatic tension. Danny’s team absolutely destroyed the other guys, and he only got off the bench to cheer and to shake his teammates’ hands at the end of the game.
"You woulda screwed up," his uncle slurred as he lamely shook Danny’s hand. The family favorite, Mr. Beam, was redolent on his breath. Grace was in earshot, and broke a record for getting down from the bleachers. She ran up to Jack and with as much force as she possibly could manage, slapped him in the face. For probably only the second time in her lifetime, Grace swore.
"You bastard! You pathetic…" Like a tigress protecting her cub, she reared back, ready to hit him again. "You worthless piece of trash." Grace later would write a letter of apology to her brother-in-law, asking for his forgiveness for her anger. She also wrote that he needn’t bother to call or stop by, as he was unwelcome unless he got some help for his drinking and apologized for his own behavior.
Jack, for his part, did neither, and never saw much of them again, apart from the odd and awkward moments at the A&P or the pharmacy.
Danny managed to hold it together until he got in the house. He might have been embarrassed by his mother’s behavior, such as it was, except the shame of his uncle’s words in front of everyone made her actions pale in comparison. And he could never get angry at her anyway. Walking into living room, Grace noticed that Danny was sitting by the front window, staring blankly, perhaps looking for some salvation of sorts. His salvation would come later, in several ways, and not a moment too soon. But not today.
"Honey….I am so sorry. Please forgive me." Grace stood by her son, her arms beginning to open in welcome.
"Mom…it’s not your fault…he had it coming. He’s so…" Danny tried to keep it together, but failed. Danny didn’t know, and maybe some of you don’t either, but men and boys should be expected to cry when they have been humiliated in front of three hundred people, and especially when it’s at the hands of family. No shame whatsoever, but Danny was incapable of separating normal behavior from the shame and guilt he suffered. He fell on the floor, sobbing so hard that his shoulders convulsed. Grace fell to the floor and took him into her arms. She began to weep, her words nearly drowned by her own sobs.
"God, help my boy…Please help my boy."
"I know it’s only a few days, but I worry about you." Grace regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. She had tried to encourage Danny, and all the more after his humiliation the week before. "It’s just me, I’m sure that most moms feel this way when they have to leave their family." The Pittsburgh branch was doing an internal audit, and they wanted someone from her office to help out, so she was going to be gone until Sunday.
"I’ll be alright. There’s plenty of food to cook and I haven’t forgotten how to call Little Sicily if I forget how to microwave," Danny kidded as he ushered his mom out the door. "Try to relax and enjoy yourself while I’m gone. I love you, sweet heart," Grace said as she got in the car. "Love you," she said once again as she drove away.
Tuesday evening came and went without event. After a normal day of banal discussions and mind-numbing lectures, Danny arrived home from school.
He went straight to the bathroom and took a shower. Grabbing his robe, he walked to his bedroom like he always did. Passing the mirror on the closet door, he noticed the boy had returned. He was still angry and still mocking.
"Go away," he heard himself say. "Please go away." He pled with the image, but the image looked back as if to mock him.
"You ARE just like your mother. Hey…maybe your uncle was right…maybe she should have had a girl. Maybe you should be a girl." Danny grabbed a baseball from his dresser. He threw the ball at the boy, but the ball slipped out of his hand and hit the mirror frame, falling harmlessly to the floor. Anyone upset from insults with moist hands after taking a shower would have missed, even that close. But the boy taunted him again.
"You might as well be a girl…you throw like one. They were right..You GIRL!" Once again, after years of abuse and neglect from family members, anyone would be confused and hurt, and might take actions and make decisions that they might otherwise not considered.
"Maybe you’re right…."
For the fifth time in nine days, Danny cried himself to sleep. He was wrought with hurt, and he cried so hard at times it was physically painful. He had nowhere to turn and no one to talk to. Years later Danny would remind his children that you always have someone to talk to, and he would point upward. But God seemed so far away back then.
He turned from the mirror and walked quickly into the bedroom beside his. His anger and shame pushed him through the door, and he was actually cursing himself. He trembled as he opened the dresser and removed the clothes. He had no care for neatness. He’d take care of that later, since he was going to be alone for another five days. He looked at the clothes in his hand and said angrily to himself,
"I’ll show them."
The room was dark. The afternoon had come and gone, and the figure slept fitfully in the large bed. A basset hound sat at the foot of the bed, waiting patiently. The figure woke and noticed at once the darkness in the room. Getting up slowly, the figure walked over to the door and turned on the light. The closet door was ajar, but was closed just enough to reveal the mirror hung in front. The figure turned with a start, still oriented from too much and not enough sleep. Oh, the figure thought, it’s just a mirror. The figure walked over to close the closet door and saw the image look back. In the mirror was a girl, about fifteen, who had black hair, which was cut way too short for any teenage girl. It was odd, because it looked like she was only wearing underwear. A grey satin bra and panties and a half-slip.
Nothing on her feet, and she wore no makeup save for a little lip gloss. She seemed nice enough, but she was staring at the figure. Something about her was familiar, but the figure couldn’t place just what. The dog came over and looked up at the figure and stared. His tail wagged with recognition as the figure looked down and said,
"Hey Scooter…hey boy." The girl in the mirror mouthed the same words, as if she knew what the figure was going to say.
The figure stared once again at the girl as both eyes widened in recognition. The figure looked at the girl once again, and biting his tongue, said,
"No…nooo!" Ripping off the clothes, Danny ran out of the room, filled with fear and shame. He threw himself on the bed and wept bitterly, wishing for all the world that he…that HE had never been born.
"Honey? Danny?" Grace opened the front door, finding the whole house dark except for a light from down the hallway. Walking down the hall, she noticed that the light came from her room. Danny’s door was closed, and Scooter was lying in the doorway, tail twitching in peaceful doggie sleep. She was about to knock on his door when she saw the pile of clothes on her bed and on the floor.
"What…." She said as she picked up the slip and underwear from the floor.
The slip was torn, and the panties and bra were stretched, as if someone had worn them. She didn’t know what to expect, but she had her suspicions. She walked over to Danny’s door and went to knock but once again thought better of it. She had left Pittsburgh early. Their system had crashed, and it wouldn’t be ready at least until Saturday afternoon, so she came home. Since her conversation with Danny, her heart had ached for him. He was suffering so much, and she knew he wasn’t "fine;" not by a long shot. She nudged Scooter out of the way with her foot, and he rolled over with a soft moan. Entering the room, she noticed it was partly illuminated by the neighbor’s porch light. The closet mirror reflected the light and revealed the broken frame as well as the shards of glass on the floor. She walked over to the bed and looked down at her sleeping son. He was covered in sweat, a blanket partially draped over his form.
Grace leaned over, not knowing what she would do next. She kissed him on the head, and went to stand up. His pillow was soaked, and she knew he had been crying again…the gut-wrenching cries that kept her awake at night in prayer. And then she noticed the one thing that confirmed her suspicions. His head was lying sideways on the pillow, partly exposing his pink glossy lips.
Grace then did the only thing she could, which was also the best thing she could do…she dropped to her knees at her son’s bedside and prayed,
"God…please help my boy." She cried and she cried out to God, not for what she discovered. Things like this didn’t bother her. Boys sometimes doe things like this…
"And even if he does, he’s my boy…" She wept because she loved him, and she could see something was tearing him apart.
Maybe this was what was causing him so much guilt…but maybe this was what was going to make that hurt go away. "Help my boy," she cried softly as she left the room.
She walked into her bedroom, she shut the door quietly and turned off the light, but not until after Scooter had jumped on her bed. She kicked off her shoes and took off her jacket, but climbed into bed clothed. She reached over to the nightstand and switched on the lamp. She grabbed her Bible and began to read…."Therefore…no…condemnation……" She closed it and turned out the light. Putting her head on the pillow, she cried herself softly to sleep, with tears of comfort and encouragement as she mouthed,
"Help my boy."
Despair
"Honey, the doorbell rang, and I’ve got my hands full with Scooter," Grace said from the bathroom. Scooter being their basset hound, who was in the midst of his monthly bath.
"Okay, mom," Danny called from the back porch. He put down the recycle bin and walked into the house. He opened the door, and standing before him was the most beautiful girl in the world...at least to him. She was about sixteen, and she stood about an inch taller than him. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and her face was adorned with the cutest dimples, which seemed to grow prettier when she smiled, which she was doing at that moment.
"Excuse me, is this the Argento household?" She said with a lovely, Katie Couric-like lisp. "Yeah...Yes," Danny stammered, trying to sound polite. He was so taken aback by her that he failed to grasp the meaning of the next question.
"That’s great...Is your sister at home?" she asked.
"No...She’s not." Danny continued to be enamored enough so as to miss the meaning of the question once again.
"Danny...Who’s at the door?" Grace called from the bathroom.
"There’s a girl here asking if my sister is at home." The implications of the girl’s request came immediately to both Grace and Danny.
"I don’t have a sister." Danny said even as his mother was saying from down the hall, "You don’t have a sister." Grace was laughing at Danny’s lapse in memory, however Danny was not. His cheeks turned crimson as he apologized.
"I’m sorry...I don’t have a sister."
The girl apologized as well, saying,
"I’m so sorry, I must have gotten the address wrong," she said, although the paper in her hand said otherwise.
"I’m looking for a Danielle Argento. Do you have a cousin by that name?"
Grace walked into the living room and rescued her son, whose face was trying very hard to grow a darker red, if that were possible.
"Both of Danny’s cousins are boys, and they live out of state." Grace said, as she wiped her hands with a towel.
Scooter peeked out from behind her legs, his tail wagging.
"There must be some mistake...The application says ‘Danielle Argento, 27 Clearview Terrace.’ Am I at the wrong address?" The girl looked at the paper and then back at the brass number 27 hanging on the front door.
Danny had made some progress in mending his fragile ego with the help of his mother, but this was way too much for him to handle. They were still looking for a counselor for both of them, but had no success up to that point. He looked at the girl for the last time, thinking that it would be THE last time. He turned around and walked to his room, and slammed the door.
"I am so sorry to bother you folks. I must have messed this up."
"No, you didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart" (She was a real sweetheart in the sweetest sense of the word.) "You didn’t ‘mess’ anything up, but I think I know who did," Marie said with a hint of anger in her voice.
"I don’t understand. Oh, excuse me, I’m sorry," the girl said offering her hand.
"I’m Linda Sorrento. I’m from Central High. I have a program the school is helping me with. We visit the kid’s oncology ward and read to them and play games. I...someone filled out an application to participate. Usually the school lets anyone get involved in the clubs and stuff, but they only want people who are committed so the kids don’t get let down..You know. Anyway, the application is filled out for a Danielle Argento at this address." Even as she said the words, a slight pink hue began to fill her cheeks.
"Oh no...I am so sorry."
"Not as sorry as someone I know is going to be when I get a hold of him."
"Jack," Grace said. Her tone was firm but controlled, as she resisted calling her brother-in-law every expletive in the book. It is hard to maintain an attitude of forgiveness when the offender continues to offend. If it were her alone, she would have written it off, but Danny’s uncle had made it his mission in life to make his nephew miserable. Danny had constantly been teased by Jack. Never a big kid, Danny had suffered endless taunting about his stature from his uncle and other kids. It got so bad that Danny chose not to stay on the high school baseball team for his junior year.
Jack was the assistant coach, and had the full approval and participation from some of Danny’s teammates for his bullying behavior."
"Gracie." (She hated it when he called her that.) "What’s the big deal...it’s just a joke."
Jack stood at his doorway, his arms spread wide as if to plead his case."
Uttering the word for only the third time in her life (yes, only three), Grace got in Jack’s face and said,
"Jack, you bastard! This is the last time. I mean it." She thrust a paper into his hands.
"What’s this?" Jack started to protest, but Grace cut him off.
"Don’t you take that tone with me, you bastard!" (That’s four, if you’re counting.)
"This is a restraining order, and don’t interrupt you moron!" (Not so bad, but still uncharacteristic for Grace.) You are not to call me or my son for any reason whatsoever. If you come within a hundred yards of me or my son, either at home or anywhere else, I will have you arrested. I have already talked to Coach G. We’ll keep the board of Ed out of this unless I have to take it to the next level. If I hear so much as a peep out of you or your moronic lemmings on the team, you will...I repeat you WILL lose your coaching job. Do I make myself clear?" Grace was not at all embarrassed, but her face turned crimson nonetheless. Before Jack had a chance to answer, Grace had walked to her car. "Not once."
She said and then drove off.
A knock at her door caused Gina Sorrento...excuse me, Gina Sorrento KELLY, to look up from her crossword puzzle (New York Times Sunday...in ink) to see a familiar holding onto the doorframe and peeking in.
"Aunt Gina? Got a sec?"
"Sweetie…for you, anything," Gina said as she smiled. She pointed to the chair opposite her. "What’s up?"
The pretty girl sat down and looked at her. She was really a second cousin, but they had the same last name and enjoyed the same relationship any aunt and niece would have. She attended the high school, which was adjacent to the middle school.
"There’s this boy..." Linda began. Gina started to grin, but Linda cut her off.
"Don’t go any further...it’s something else entirely!" (Actually, that was a slight fib, because there was just a little bit else going on.)
"I went to talk with a girl in your neighborhood....actually a boy..." She corrected herself, but was confused enough to say again, "NO, make that a girl."
Gina looked at Linda with a puzzled expression. "A boy and a girl? A boy or a girl?"
"Both, sorta. No, that’s not right. I was getting caught up with the visiting recruitment after I left your house Saturday. A girl had signed up, and since she lived around the corner from you, I figured I’d stop by and introduce myself."
"So," Gina said in her "wise counselor" voice. "She has a brother."
"Yes...no. I mean..." Linda was trying to speak, but the whole situation was confusing.
"Someone signed her up for the program without telling her!"
"So she doesn’t want to participate."
"She can’t participate because she is a he!"
"What?" Gina thought she knew where this was going. (She really didn’t, but then again she actually did, without knowing she did. Confused? This writer is.)
"His name is Danny...he was on the baseball team. One of his teammates signed him up as Danielle. His uncle...he’s so mean. He coaches the team and he uses the guys to pick on him...his own nephew." She had overheard some girls laughing and joking with one of his teammates.
Gina knew Jack Johansen from faculty meetings. While Gina was a loving and forgiving person much like Danny’s mother,
Gina had no problem saying to herself,
"What a bastard!" Jack was an obnoxious jerk as far as she was concerned; an opinion shared by not a few members of the faculty and by all of the women staff. He even tried to proposition her AFTER she got married. Trying with some success to separate her feelings from the situation, she asked,
"And you want me to help you with what, honey?"
"I don’t know what to do, but I want to help him...he seemed so...lost."
To be serious, Linda was every bit as perceptive and compassionate as her favorite aunt...it was probably Gina’s example that inspired Linda to help start the visitation program. She probably (read highly likely) was somewhat maybe interested in Danny, but she really did want to help.
"I’m not sure what the next step would be, sweetie, but you know...I trust you enough to know what to do, with you know Who’s help." Gina looked upward and looked back at Linda and winked. She, having a fair understanding of the first amendment, nevertheless respected the policy of the school, however misguided, and did not use you know Who’s name.
"And who’s to say that the next time you come over to see me and Ben and Rocco (Ben being her husband and Rocco being their bull terrier) that you and I can’t take a nice stroll in the neighborhood. The weather has been nice lately, and maybe your friend will being sitting on his porch.
The room was unlit, but some light peeked through the blinds. The girl sat alone on the couch, reading a magazine. She put it down.
"Sports Illustrated," she said to herself. "That’s a boy’s magazine." She walked over to the small magazine rack on the floor by the fireplace and looked through the magazines.
"Good Housekeeping...Gourmet...Victoria’s Secret Catalog." She had read the last one before, but for other reasons. She picked up a copy of Shape and walked back to the couch. After a few minutes of perusing, she threw the magazine across the room and started to cry. She didn’t know, but would find out eventually that it was entirely okay for her to read her favorite magazine...It was okay to see how the Eagles were expected to do this season...It was okay that she didn’t have to like everything her mother did, even if she did want to be just like her.
"And who have we here, my love? Why it’s just the sweetest niece a fella could have."
Ben walked over to Linda and hugged her, kissing her on the top of the head. "Rocco, look who’s here." Rocco ran past Ben and banged into Linda’s shins, his tail wagging. Tony and Amelia, Linda’s parents, were away at a couple’s retreat so she was staying overnight with Gina and Ben. She could have managed at home quite well, but she and Gina had a nice meal and a stroll around the block to attend to.
"More coffee, love?" Ben said from the kitchen. "Linda?"
"No thanks, Uncle Ben." She loved the sound of that.
"So, this boy is being teased? And by his uncle?" Ben said, but it sounded more like
"And boy his oonkle?" Ben’s accent grew thicker for only three reasons. (Yes, this writer is quite aware she said only two reasons elsewhere. ) First, when he got other Irish folk. Second, when his sister Katie was around. (Linda had not met her Aunt Katie, but would soon enough.) And third; when he was angry.
"What a sod! Oh, excuse me, what an absolutely poor example of human behavior," Ben said in his doctor’s voice. He had just completed his PhD in Children’s Psych, and was trying ever so hard to remain professional about his opinion of Danny’s uncle.
"He shouldn’t be a problem anymore. He got fired this week for drinking at the football game, and I heard he’s moving back to Pottstown." Gina said with satisfaction.
"But Danny’s still dealing with the fallout, I presume."
"I guess. I tried calling, but his mother said he doesn’t want to talk."
"Then perhaps it would be appropriate for the mountain to go to Mohammed?" Ben asked.
Danny sat on the front porch of his house. It was a beautiful day, just as Gina predicted, and Scooter would have agreed, had he the ability to talk. He wagged his tail as he jumped off the porch. He ran up to the two figures walking past the house and barked playfully. Normally, two male dogs who have never met might be confrontational, but Rocco greeted Scooter with a yip and a wag of his own tail, being the most sociable bull terrier in the greater Philadelphia area. Danny noticed the woman and the teen beside her and got up to walk into the house.
"Hi, Danny!" Linda said with a smile. How are you?"
"O...okay," he said, as he felt his cheeks grow warm.
"This is my aunt Gina. She’s a guidance counselor at the middle school, you know?"
"Yeah...yes, I heard that." Danny wanted to run into the house at that point, but as he turned, his mother came out the front door, colliding with her son. Grace collected herself and said,
"Danny, who are your friends?" She realized that she had only asked that question a handful of times.
"This is Ms. Sorrento and you’ve met her niece."
"Hi...Gina Sorrento...oh, sorry, Gina Sorrento Kelly...just got married this year." Gina pointed to her rings and grinned sheepishly.
"Grace Argento." Grace said as she extended her hand. "Glad to meet you. Would you like to come in for some ice tea?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Argento. That would be nice." Linda said. Danny smiled politely, wishing desperately that the porch would open up and swallow him whole.
They stood on the porch, saying their goodbyes. Linda really did not want to manipulate the situation, really, but nevertheless asked the awkward question,
"I really think you’d like it, so why don’t you sign up for the visitation program, anyway," she said, failing to recall just why Danielle Argento wasn’t available.
"I don’t know..." he said, his cheeks beginning to redden.
"Well, at least think about it."
"Yeah, sure, okay," Danny said reluctantly, hoping to God that she wouldn’t hold him to his promise.
"Okay...I’ll call you tomorrow," Linda said as she and Gina walked down the street.
"Honey, did you put out the trash?" Grace called from her bedroom.
"Yeah...Yes, mom. Everything’s done for the night."
"Thank you, honey. I’m going to bed early. I have a whopper of a headache.
Turn out the lights, okay? Love you, honey. I love you so much!" She always said that, regardless of what was going on, and Danny never grew tired of hearing it. He walked down the hallway, and knocked on the door. His mother was lying down, her Bible lying beside her. Walking to her bedside, he leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek.
"I love you, too, mom." "I’m going to play some music, so do you want your door closed?"
"That would be a good idea, get the light, honey? ...thanks. Love you."
The girl stood in front of her closet door, looking at her reflection in the mirror.
She didn’t like what she saw, even though she was pretty and sweet. Her hair, short as it was, did little to change her opinion. Her makeup was simple, albeit awkwardly applied, but she did a fair job with the eye shadow and blush. Her lips were a dark pink and a little glossy. She wore a simple flower-print sleeveless shirt dress with no hose. The dress was probably more suited to someone her mother’s age, but it was all she had at the moment. She was perched almost clumsily on two inch heeled white pumps, and reached out several times for something to steady her.
"Not bad..." she thought, trying to convince herself. Actually, it wasn’t bad, considering this was the first time for heels and makeup. The clothes fit her fairly well apart from being a little "empty" upstairs. She looked again at her image in the mirror. The girl in the mirror looked self-conscious, even embarrassed. She brought her hand up to her face, her palm resting on her cheek.
"Who am I kidding...?" She said angrily to herself.
"Nobody," the girl in the mirror said back. "But it’s the best you can hope for... You aren’t a boy, after all," the girl mocked. "You’re a girl...just like your mother."
"Shut up....leave me alone," the girl said to her reflection. She grabbed at the dress, as if to tear it off. She stopped. She looked at herself again. She liked what she saw even as she hated it.
"Leave me alone...." the girl said and began to cry. She feared she’d be heard, but had no energy to stop, and gave way to sobs. Running to the bed, she threw herself into the pillow and wept bitterly while saying..."
"Leave me alone....leave me alone." Imagine the emotional equivalent of being drawn and quartered. She would wake up the next morning, trying to understand it all, but with little success. Her pillow would be stained with makeup, and she would have no explanation to her mother. What would she do? What should she do?
Grace stood outside Danny’s door, crying softly to herself and trying not to be heard.
Scooter nudged her ankles and she put her finger to her lips to silently shush him, as if he understood.
"Leave me alone..." she heard the voice cry from the other side of the door, the sobs piercing her heart like a knife.
She had almost no more energy, and her prayers seemed to fall on deaf ears.
"Please send someone...anyone...to....ttttoooo," she tried to continued, but her sobs kept the rest of her prayer from escaping her mouth. Danny lay on the bed on the other side of the door, but his own sobs kept him from hearing his mother’s cries. Neither heard each other from that point on, such was the absolute and utter pain each felt.
But Someone did hear...."Help my boy...please..." And He would send someone. In fact, He already had.
Redemption
"Come on...you'll like it, I promise." Linda said to Danny, although he thought heard, "promith." She had that slight Katie Couric lisp that some guys find attractive. Danny had signed up for the visitation program, and he and Linda were at the doorway leading to the kids’ oncology unit. Danny looked like what a dog looks like when he knows he's going to the vet. Limbs all akimbo holding onto the doorway for dear life.
Linda leaned closer to him and pinched him hard on the arm.
"Now!" she said with more than a little insistence. "They're waiting."
Walking into the ward, Danny was struck with the immensity and beauty of the children's disease. While wasting away, they nevertheless appeared angelic to him, and all of his fears melted when little girl looked past her mother and smiled.
"Go ahead, Danny...I think she likes you." You may find that when you're going through a difficult time that you may forget about the troubles of those around you. Danny's pain was real and ongoing; the result of years of verbal abuse by his father and uncle, and nothing should diminish the impact that abuse had on him. But he still remained understandably self-centered. That is, until this day.
"Mommy," the little girl said loudly, "I've got a new friend." Danny approached the bedside cautiously, more out of his own lack of confidence than a fear of the unfamiliar.
His stomach was in knots, as if he would say or do something to "break" the little girl.
"Hi, Danny," the mother said, noting the paper label on his shirt. "I can't begin to tell you how much this means to Gracie here," the woman said, pointing to her daughter. She rose from the chair next to the bed and hugged Danny, who felt ill-prepared and self-conscious. Not knowing what to do, he patted the woman on the back.
"Mmmm…my mother's name is Gracie, too," Danny turned and looked at the girl. She was about seven, and was a pretty as a
little girl could be, despite the lack of hair on her head. Danny's eyes began to mist as the emotion of the moment overtook him.
"I just know God sent you," the woman continued, which added to his feelings of being unworthy and incapable.
"It's okay to cry...a little." The mom continued. "'Shows you care! Can't keep from feeling what you feel. Just keep reminding yourself that you are not responsible for her recovery...Only God is. But you can be a part of it." Danny needed to hear that, and not only to prepare him for the day ahead. He had never gotten involved in anything like this, and despite his fears, the woman's words seemed to boost his confidence. It was the first time in quite a while that he was able to think about someone other than himself, and it felt good.
Linda walked up to Danny and touched his arm gently.
"I'm sorry, Joey, but Danny and I have to go. We'll be back on Wednesday, and he can play with you some more, okay?" Joey nodded reluctantly but smiled as the two walked off the unit.
"My mom and Aunt Gina are downstairs to pick us up. Want to come over to my place for some Pizza?"
"Shhh....sure," Danny stammered. Apart from going to a birthday party when he was eleven, Danny had never gone to a girl's house. And now, with his seventeenth birthday approaching, he felt supremely awkward at the prospect of embarrassing himself with Linda and her family. He had nothing to fear for two reasons. First, despite his utter lack of confidence, he was a polite, thoughtful and sensitive boy who would be welcomed at anyone's home. Second, and almost more importantly, he was slowly becoming the object of Linda's affection, even if he took little notice.
The entire drive to Linda's house felt like an eternity, even though it took only fifteen minutes. Danny's thoughts weren't about pizza or manners or even Linda. What he couldn't get out of his mind was this: When he and Linda went back to the unit on Wednesday, would all of the children be there. Would all of the boys and girls be alive to greet them? Even though he felt bad about crying for himself (mistakenly I should add), he realized it would be selfish of him not to weep over these kids. He prayed to himself that Joey would be there to play with and to read to the next time they visited.
Gina and her cousin waited in the car while Linda and Danny stood by his front steps.
"I'll probably see you somewhere in the halls this week, but plan on meeting me in front of the school on Wednesday right after last bell, okay?" Linda stood about an inch taller than Danny, but was looking up to him at this moment.
She didn't know all of the things that plagued him, but what she did know made her angry and sad at the same time.
Things were growing beyond the fondness stage, and she was having a difficult time. She wanted to focus on the program. No one else but for a junior girl from Taiwan had volunteered, and Linda was disappointed. But she was there and he was there.
"Anyway, we can grab some Mexican or Pizza or something (thomething) after the visit okay. See you on Wednesday." And as they say, without further ado, she walked to the car and was gone, but not until after reaching over and kissing Danny on the cheek.
He stood red-faced in front of his house. His mother had witnessed the scene from the front window behind a strategically placed curtain. She smiled to herself, partly because a girl just kissed her son for the first time. But more importantly, she was beginning to see hope in his face for the first time in a long time, and was grateful.
Danny started to smile, when his thoughts were interrupted by a voice in his head that seemed to say,
"What are you smiling about? If she knew what I know, she'd never ever want to speak to you again." People really do self-talk like Gollum and Smeagol. They find out sooner or later that they are hearing themselves talk. In Danny's case, Gollum was the years of abuse that destroyed his sense of self and understanding about himself as a young man. His Smeagol was only just a part of his whole being, and he pled with the voice,
"Leave me alone."
"She'll never want you....You're just like your mother...You might as well be a girl..."
"Leave me alone," Danny said, but his other half didn't go away.
"You are a girl," the voice laughed.
Grace witnessed the entire exchange; acted out in cruel pantomime as Danny wrestled with his inner demons on the front porch. She was tempted to anger, but her faith prompted her to look down the street where Linda had just driven off.
"Thank you, God," she said as she chose to remember the token of affection from a thoughtful girl toward her son.
"Are you sure you’ll be alright?" Grace said to Danny from his doorway.
"Sure, Mom. I just have a bad headache, and it’s only a half-day today, anyway." Danny said from his bed. Grace entered the room, walked over, and gave her son a kiss on the head.
"Just the same, I want you to call me if you need anything." She said as Scooter ran past her and jumped into Danny’s bed.
"I promise," he said with a little fib. Actually, Danny didn’t mean to fib; he was telling the truth up to that point, but someone else had plans for the day.
Grace was fibbing also, but it was entirely intentional. Something was going on with Danny. Her suspicions were somewhat confirmed, but she wanted to know just how much she really knew.
The girl walked into the room, turning off the light. The room remained fairly lit due to the light streaming through the blinds. She walked over to the closet and looked once again at her image. The girl in the mirror seemed to start to say something, but the girl in front of the mirror pled with unexpected success for the girl in the mirror to keep quiet.
She looked prettier than she’d ever had. Her hair still remained too short, but with some mousse and a barrette, it looked somewhat attractive. She had done a better job with her makeup and was pleased with the results. She had solved the problem of "upstairs" with some creative enhancement provided by a couple of pairs of panties. The dress was the same floral print she wore days before, but it seemed to hang better on her slim body. She was wearing hose for the first time, and she liked how her legs looked, especially with the red pumps she got from the closet. But for all that preparation, for all that hope, she still could not look the girl in the mirror in the eye without feeling condemned.
But the girl in the mirror gave way to temptation and began teasing her counterpart once again.
"Now we’re getting somewhere. You don’t just act like a girl, but now you’re starting to look like one," the image said. The girl looked back and then to the bed. The boy’s clothes were tossed on the bed. "Give them away…you won’t need them anymore."
"But…" the girl began to protest but her image cut her off.
"She’ll never want you now. That would be so bad! She’ll hate you…wait and see," the girl in the mirror mocked. The girl thought nothing could hurt more than this, but she soon found out she was wrong. She went to turn from the mirror, but when she turned, she was faced with something that hurt worse than anything she had ever felt.
The woman leaned against the bedroom door, and stood almost expressionless as the figure before her turned.
"MmmMom," he said as his eyes darted from his mother’s face to the clothing he wore. If he had said "I can explain," he would have been lying, because even he didn’t understand what he was doing. All he could do was look once again at her with pleading eyes, asking for forgiveness, understanding; he really didn’t know what he wanted other than to be somewhere else. He ran from the room crying, locking the bathroom door behind him. Grace walked over and knocked on the door.
"I…m ssssorry," Danny cried through the door.
Grace calmly walked out of the room and into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She prayed for a few minutes and then poured herself a cup of coffee, hoping she was right in what she planned next.
About an hour later, Danny emerged from his bathroom, clad in his robe. He walked over to the bed to retrieve his own clothing. Lying on top of his pillow was a white envelope, with "Danny" written in his mother’s hand writing. With some fear and a great deal of shame, he opened the envelope. In it was a note, also in his mother’s handwriting. It said,
"Dear Son…I love you more than life itself, and I always will. We need to talk. Come out when you’re ready.
"Have a seat, honey," his mother said tenderly as she poured tea into two cups. No demands, no questions, no anger.
Just two cups of tea, some honey and lemon, and as much patience and love she could find despite her confusion and doubt. She felt that whatever happened, whatever the explanation, he had heard enough condemnation for a lifetime, and she wasn’t about to add to that.
"Does she have a name?" It sounded almost like teasing to Danny, but Grace really wanted to understand, and this seemed to be a logical question.
"Not….not yet," he said timidly, all the while feelings of shame and guilt poured over him like waves.
"Danny, honey," I don’t understand it, and I’m pretty sure you don’t either, but together we’ll figure this out." His mother’s words seemed to disarm his demons, and he began to cry, not so much from shame as from the relief of being accepted. She walked around to where he was seated and stood behind him. She kissed the top of his head as if to bless him, and then she began to cry. Danny had not seen his mother cry so hard since his Dad died, and he didn’t want to see this either. But her tears were the prayers that God continued to hear, and they provided him with the forgiveness and acceptance he so desperately needed.
"Gina Kelly," Gina answered her phone. She felt she’d never get tired of hearing those two names together. "Oh, hi, Ms. Argento. Oh, sorry, hi, Grace. What can I do for you?"
"I’m glad I got through. I thought you worked at the high school."
"Actually, I help out there, since the building is attached to the middle school." Gina waited for a few moments, and finally asked again,
"What’s wrong, Grace, you sound upset."
"I need some help with Danny, and I don’t know where to turn."
Gina knew that Danny was a good student, and he seemed to thrive when he visited the kids with her niece, so she expected it had to do with his self-esteem.
"Can we meet somewhere for coffee, sometime soon." Her voice was pleasant but also indicated urgency.
"Listen, Grace. Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? I know Linda and Danny are visiting the kids this afternoon, and her mom Amelia are taking them and Lisa Chang out for pizza afterwards. Ben and I would be happy to hear you out, and we will not say a word about it to Danny unless you say so."
Grace began to cry, but composed herself.
"Oh, thank you," she said as she looked upward, being grateful for friends.
"Come by about 4:30, we’re planning for a nice evening, so we’ll eat on the deck."
They sat on the deck outside drinking coffee after dinner
"I think you handled it about as well as anyone can," Gina said with more than a little understanding of Grace’s situation.
"You think so? I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t want to indulge this, either." Grace looked at Gina and Ben, who smiled and said,
"And who’s to say you’re indulging anything?" Bens said, but it sounded like "indoolgin anyting."
"This is really out of my professional area of expertise," Gina said, and then grinned. "But I think I have more than a little bit of hand’s on experience." She looked at Ben, who got up from the table. In the all-too recent past, Ben might have done something different, but Gina’s love and encouragement made it easier to do what he planned to next.
Kissing his wife on the head, he excused himself with a, "Back in a few, my Love."
Grace sat on the deck sipping her coffee while Gina was in the kitchen loading the dishwasher. A moment later Gina appeared, accompanied by an attractive blond. The woman was dressed in navy slacks and cardigan, covering a pale grey blouse. She smiled as she walked up to Grace, offering her hand.
"Meet Katie, Ben’s sister," Gina knew the moment was as serious as could be, given the gravity of the situation, but failed miserably in her attempt to suppress a grin. Grace immediately noticed the grin even as she offered her hand back with,
"Hi, Grace Argento, pleased to meet you."
"And I am pleased to meet you as well," the woman said softly with a slight brogue.
"And you’re a guidance counselor like Gina and your brother?" Katie was about to speak when Gina cut her off.
"Katie even works at the same school as Ben, would you believe it?"
Grace wouldn’t have believed it in a million years after the next words came out of Gina’s mouth.
"Grace…I tried to think of something we could say or do that would help you understand more about what Danny is going through. We just figured," Here she pointed to Katie and herself. "We just figured you needed to know just how much someone could understand and accept someone…like Danny." She pointed again to Katie, who sipped her coffee quietly.
Grace looked at Katie and then back to Gina. Looking again at Katie, she tried to speak, but only mouthed silently,
"Ben?"
With as sweet a voice you’d ever heard uttered by and even sweeter girl, Katie said softly,
"As ever was, Grace, as ever was."
Comments
For A 'father' Or 'uncle' To
Verbally destroy a young man's ego is evil! THEY SHOULD BOTH BE HORSE WHUPPED!!
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Unconditional love...
Is a rare commodity. Many never find it, though we all seek it. If it comes, from God or man or woman, it is the greatest power in the universe; and the greatest gift. It heals the soul by saying: I see, I love, I accept! It allows us to set aside fear and just be.
We are each as God made us, and God doesn't make mistakes.
Ole
We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!
Gender rights are the new civil rights!
Unconditional love
Andrea has the ability to see the hurt and harm of those who hurt and harm others, though they might mask it in higher terms. Ole, Andrea and many of us yearn and long for the gift of unconditional love. Some of us have not traveled an easy road to accept and love ourselves, most have experienced the acceptance and unconditional love of others to come even more difficult.
I believe God does love us unconditionally. I am deeply moved when I feel that caring from others often in this community. "It heals the soul by saying: I see, I love, I accept! It allows us to set aside fear and just be."
Andrea not only tells needed stories, she is gracious in being a friend.
Ditto, Love
JessieC
Jessica E. Connors
Jessica Connors