Riding the Waves (Part Two)
Year Four
She worried him. Granted neither of them knew the slightest thing about pregnancies or babies, but her reaction did not seem right. He was so incredibly happy, more than he ever thought he could be. She was not. Listless, despondent, sad were all more appropriate descriptions. She would not eat, claiming morning sickness. She did not blossom like mother's to be normally would. Months went by and her mood did not change. It just didn't seem right, and he consulted the doctor. The doctor assured him that it was normal, some women got a little depressed during pregnancy.
He tried to entice her with buying clothes and furniture and new baby things. Rattles and cribs, rocking chairs and rocking horses. She was half-hearted, at best, detached at its worst. They painted the nursery a sunny yellow and put up white eyelet curtains. He hoped the color was an omen to their future. He would come home every night, when he was able, and kiss her and kiss her stomach, their baby. The anticipation increased daily and he felt ready to be a father. Father, that word filled him with joy and wonder and made him just a little scared. Finally, around the eighth month, her mood changed. She finally seemed happy about the prospect of being a mother. He would watch her caress her rounded stomach and talk to their daughter. At least he envisioned a daughter in his dreams. One with her wide smile and shining eyes.
And she came on a rainy day in April, with a loud wail announcing her presence. His daughter, Sydney. He spent hours looking in the hospital nursery window, amazed by this small creature that was the combination of the best parts of the two of them. She was only hours old and he was completely enthralled. He drank of her new baby smell and it was more intoxicating than the finest scotch. He longed to remain drunk on her smell as long as he lived. Her eyes were so trusting and she was so small and he never felt more protective. After a crash coarse in baby care and four days to recuperate and become acquainted with Sydney, they took her home and a new adventure began. A family.
They survived on instinct and Dr. Spock, as neither was experienced with babies. They could not sleep, could not eat, the world revolved around Sydney's wants and needs. It was difficult and it took its toll on all of them. He hated to leave his girls to go to work and counted the minutes until he could return to them. He hired a maid to come in and help where she could. Then a routine was established and things began to get better. Or so he thought.
He woke one night to a screaming baby and an empty bed. Groggily he stumbled to the baby's room to see her standing over the crib just starring at the wailing baby. She did not reach to pick Sydney up, but stared with that hard look of hers. He could not read her, rigid as a statue with unblinking eyes. And he was afraid for their daughter. He swooped in and picked up the crying baby and sat in the rocking chair. She looked at him and through him with dark eyes, hard and cold, turned and walked out of the room. Silent tears streamed down his face as he and his daughter rocked to the sounds of the night. He did not return Sydney to her crib for he was never more afraid than he was that night.
They never spoke of that night and slowly things improved. She became a doting mother and loving wife again. He watched her closely for months, looking for a reoccurrence of what he saw that night. It never returned and he was relieved.
Years Five through Ten
The next year was a blur of firsts. First time to roll over, first time to sit unaided, first time to crawl and first tooth. Dr. Spock was their best friend and they documented everything. He became an avid photographer and would take rolls and rolls of film documenting every step in Sydney's development. Sydney was a bright happy baby. She seemed to develop quickly and he attributed that to the combination of superior genes. They, as a family, would take walks around the neighborhood and all the neighbors cooed at Sydney.
Sydney preferred the sound of her father's voice when trying to fall asleep, so a new routine was established. He would rock her and tell her of his day. He was enraptured that he could soothe Sydney with just the sound of his voice. The world revolved and evolved with his daughter and these were times that he treasured.
The first year sped by like a freight train and they celebrated the milestone with white cake and candles. He bought his wife a ruby ring to thank her for filling his heart with such love. He was totally captivated by his two girls and hoped that it would always remain that way.
This happiness overshadowed all of the worrisome events at work and in the world. He shielded himself the best he could and tried to remain as naïve as possible to the evil which surrounded him.
She returned to teaching, which seemed to infuse her with a renewed lightness. He came to the conclusion that although she loved Sydney, she needed work outside of the home. Accommodations were made and a nanny was hired. She began attending teaching seminars on a fairly regular basis. She seemed to enjoy them, but always returned a little detached, a little hard. She claimed that the seminars were taxing, but informative. Within a day or two of returning, she was often restored to her former self.
The next few years continued the speeding progression from babyhood to toddler to little girl. Sydney's childhood was a carefree as they could make it. She had a wonderful imagination and loved to play dress-up. She colored the walls and tried to cut her own hair. She ate paste and play dough. She played on the swings and scraped her knees. She progressed from a tricycle to a two-wheeler, one with a pink seat and streamers on the handlebars. She took dance class and spent hours at the library. They made sure that their daughter had everything she needed and Sydney would constantly amaze them with her knowledge, imagination and development. Truly, they had a gifted child and they did all they could to encourage everything Sydney did.
They took vacations when their schedules permitted; their favorite place was the beach. They could sit for hours on end at the beach, watching the waves and building sand castles. They rented bicycles and rode up and down the shore. They ate dinner at the out of the way diners. They bought silly shell trinkets and post cards.
Work responsibilities increased and evolved. He tried his best to remove himself from all that he felt was amoral, but as in all things, he was compromised. Arvin. Project Christmas was born and he felt the inhumanity of it and also felt a lack of control over the project. First it was a few questions on the IQ test. Then it was puzzles to determine spatial acuity. Somewhere along the way it evolved into a summer camp for those who scored well on the IQ test. He felt it was perverse and wrong. He heard the Russians were doing similar things and that they were interested in obtaining information about his results. The classified information was kept with him at all times, in one form or another. He figured that this was the best way to control access. Little did he know.
As footprints spoil the virgin snow, their idyllic life came to a screeching halt. Ice and twisted metal unraveled the fabric of his life.