Finders Keepers
Atlanta, Georgia: 1957
Barnes Roland looked around the elegantly appointed medical office and then at the man in the pristine white coat sitting behind the polished desk. He felt fearful, guilty and disoriented and wasn't sure why. He had been friends with Sloan since they were five years old and attended the same private school. He totally ignored his wife sitting across from him, concentrating instead on trying to understand the anger in Sloan's eyes. Anger directed at him. Never Thea because way back when, Sloan Simpson had been in love with his wife. Well, the best man had won and the South's most powerful merger of cotton and tobacco had been forged with their union. Adding Thea to the merger was almost an after thought.
"For God's sake, Sloan, just write a prescription for a pill so we can get out of here. What's the big deal?"
"The big deal, Barnes, is your wife. When was the last time you looked at her? When was the last time you paid attention to her? She's been through hell. By herself I might add. You wouldn't be here now if she hadn't collapsed. I suggest we put Thea into the hospital and run some tests. My God, man, she can't weigh more than ninety pounds. I trusted you to bring her for her checkups on the schedule we worked out and that you agreed to. I want an explanation and I want it now!" The doctor's voice was a growling hiss of anger.
Barnes' hands flapped in the air as he grappled with the doctor's words. "Look, what was I supposed to do? She locks herself in her room and cries all day long. She even cries and wails in her sleep. I believed you when you said our daughter's death was not my fault. I goddamn well believed you even though I was and still am consumed with guilt. That is never going to go away. Every day, every chance she gets. Thea tells me it was my fault. Who the hell am I supposed to believe, Sloan? Do you have any idea what that's like? I can't force her to eat. I can't force her to bathe and get out in the fresh air. I gave up. Millions of women miscarry and millions of women lose a child. They don't go off the deep end. We tried therapy and it didn't work so don't go blaming me for this. Like I said, give her a pill so I can take her home. We need to move on here. At least I do. Plain and simple, Sloan, I can't take it anymore."
"A pill isn't going to do it, Barnes. Thea needs psychiatric help. Don't make me resort to other measures. I don't want to hear any of that crap about your position in Atlanta society either. Half the women in this town go to psychiatrists. In my opinion you could use a little help yourself. I know all about your life style, my friend. You clip coupons by the bushel, you drink your breakfast, you play a round of golf and then you drink your lunch, take a nap, wake up, drink some more and then it's time for dinner and more drinks. One of the stewards from the club drives you home around midnight and pours you into bed. Read my lips, Barnes, I'm blaming you for your wife's condition. I am not nor have I ever blamed you for your daughter's death."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I told you to look at your wife. Now, do it and tell me what you see."
Both men stared at Thea Roland. Sloan Simpson face registered sadness whereas Barnes Roland's face registered distaste.
The object of both men's scrutiny spoke. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here. I want a cigarette and a drink."
"You don't smoke and drink, Thea." Barnes voice was strangled sounding.
"How do you know what I do and don't do?" To prove her point, Thea pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a flashy gold Dunhill lighter. A matching gold flask appeared in her hand as if by magic. She took a long pull from the bottle and then smacked her lips after which she blew a spectacular smoke ring. "I'm a drunk like you, Barnes. The only difference is I do it in the privacy of my room. It's the only way I can get through the days. I'm never going to have a child, Barnes. That was the only thing I ever wanted out of life, a family. I didn't think it was too much to expect. I've had three miscarriages, two still born children and then when God finally blessed me with a baby girl He decided I wasn't worthy enough and took her away. It's all your fault. I'm empty. There's nothing left. Do you think I don't know how I look? I do. I simply don't care any more. If I had the guts I'd commit suicide to be with my little girl. Maybe someday I'll wake up and I will have the guts and I'll do it. I want to go home now. I collapsed because I hadn't eaten. I'll take some vitamins and do some gardening. That was your prescription, wasn't it, Barnes? Or was it yours, Sloan?"
Sloan Simpson rubbed at his temples, his eyes burning. Didn't these people know how precious life was? "Perhaps a trip to the mountains, Thea. A change of scenery, cooler air. It's oppressive here in Atlanta right now. I recommend the Smoky Mountains. I have a cabin there you can use. It's rustic but it serves the purpose. Will you consider it?"
"Here, there, where ever. Does it matter?" Thea said.
"Think of it as a challenge, Barnes. Leave your scissors and coupons behind. No liquor and no cigarettes. Go fishing and eat the fish. Produce is abundant at this time of year. Stop being so goddamn selfish and do it for Thea."
"If I don't take your little trip are you going to have me committed?" Thea asked fearfully. Sloan recognized the fear. So, she still had emotions after all.
Sloan ignored the question, his eyes on Barnes who said, "It's a thought, Thea."
Thea drained the gold flask, her eyes sparking momentarily. All right. I want to move, Barnes. After the trip, I want to move some place else. I wanted to move after my little girl died but you said no, we were born in Atlanta and we would die there. That's what you said, Barnes. We'll both die in that damn three hundred year old relic we call a home."
"We'll talk about that later, Thea. Our lives are here."
"Your life is here. I don't have one. I'll go without you. I'll expect an equitable distribution of funds if you don't join me. I'm sorry to be putting you through this, Sloan. You've been a good friend as well as a good doctor to both Barnes and myself. She would have been three years old today, Sloan. Barnes forgot." Thea's voice took on a sing song quality when she said, "She was so beautiful with all those golden curls. She was my own precious porcelain doll. I can still see her when I close my eyes. I can hear her tinkling laugh when it's quiet. She never cried. I never understood that. I can't bring myself to say her name. In my dreams I call out to her but she doesn't answer me. She's gone and I can't ever get her back."
"Thea . . ."
"I don't want to hear whatever it is you want to say, Barnes. You didn't even remember today was her birthday. I bet you know to the penny what the price of tobacco and cotton were yesterday and the day before yesterday and all the days before those two days. It wouldn't surprise me to know you have the numbers for the entire year swirling around inside your head."
"Thea . . ."
"Go to hell, Barnes."
Only Sloan Simpson heard Barnes Roland say, "I'm already there."
"We've been riding for hours, Thea and you haven't said a word. I'm very concerned about you and your health. I want you to listen to me very carefully. What you said back in Sloan's office this morning, it wasn't true. I cared as much as you did. I did feel guilty and you rammed that guilt down my throat every day of our lives. Part of me will always feel guilty. The months of therapy you refused to go through helped me. I realize now there was nothing I could do, Thea. Our daughter simply stopped breathing. I wanted an autopsy and you didn't. It might have brought a small measure of closure to our tragedy. You shut me out. I tried, Thea. A day doesn't go by that I don't think about our little girl. What's even stranger is I can't say her name either. Like you, I drank to ease the pain and before I knew it I had to drink more and more because the pain wouldn't go away. It's still with me. It's a terrible thing when a parent buries a child. It isn't supposed to happen that way. Sloan was right, we have to get our lives back. We could adopt a child, Thea. Two children if you want, a boy and a girl. We're only thirty-five, Thea, and we look sixty-five. I want to hear you tell me you won't ever think about suicide. I wouldn't know what to do without you. We got off the track this past year. I want us to get on with our lives . . . together. If you want to move, I'll move. I'll do whatever you want. I just want us to do it together."
Thea pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. "Turn the air conditioning down, Barnes. Today was a bad day. Perhaps it will be better tomorrow. I meant it, though, when I said I wanted to move. If you see a filling station or store will you stop? I'd like a soda pop."
"It's late, almost six o'clock. We should be thinking about dinner. Look, there's a service station. I can see the cooler from here. What flavor do you want?"
"Cream soda would be nice." Thea slouched lower in her seat as she hugged her chest with her thin arms.
She saw her then, a golden haired child sleeping in her stroller, a yellow dog at her side. She moved then, faster than she'd ever moved in her life. She was out of the car and around the gas pump, the shawl flapping against her arms as she bent down to lift the child out of her nest of blankets. The huge yellow dog growled deep in his throat as Thea raced back to the car, the child's red sweater dangling from the blankets.
Barnes, his gaze riveted on his wife, the engine still idling, floored the gas pedal the moment he saw Thea throw her shawl over the child's head and then leap in the car. The child's screams ripped at his insides. Sweat dripped down his face as he careened away from the gas station. He could see the yellow dog break his rope to race after the car in the rear view mirror. Thea had just kidnaped a child. And he was aiding and abetting his wife to assuage his guilt that was never going to leave him. Never, ever. It was all he could do to keep his hands on the wheel as they barreled down the mountain. "Jesus, God, Thea, do you know what you just did?" More sweat dripped into his eyes making it impossible to see the road. He turned on the windshield wipers in a frenzy. He swiped at his eyes so he could look into his rear view mirror. In the distance he could see the yellow dog racing down the road
Thea, her voice hysterical and out of control shouted, "I found her! I found her! She's mine! Finders keepers, Barnes. FINDERS KEEPERS!"
|
