Wedding Song 7: A Work In Progress....
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WEDNESDAY MORNING
Standing at the window of Bobby's office, Darien stared out at a bright sunny morning, wishing sadly for the easy joy with which he'd once seen the world. As he and Eberts talked, Darien cast occasional glances back at his daughter's godfather, who sat in a newly purchased rocking chair feeding the little girl who had become the absolute light of his life
"Rings? Nah. Well....You really think so, Ebes? I don't know...."
"It is just my opinion, of course.... but rings would seem to be essential. They're such an important symbol." Eberts offered, urging Bobbi to finish the last ounce or so of milk in her morning bottle.
"To the world maybe. Bobby an' I know how we feel about each other. What do we have to prove to anyone else?"
"It isn't about proving anything, per se. It's about the promises you'll make to Bobby and the promises he'll make to you. It's about a circle.... a commitment that never ends."
A thought struck Eberts suddenly, one he disliked the feel of, and he voiced it reluctantly and as gently as he could. "Darien. Could it be that.... perhaps you're afraid a ring *would* be a symbol to the world? Something that would induce others to ask questions or start conversations you aren't sure you're prepared to deal with?"
Darien immediately flushed a deep crimson and turned his eyes downward. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion.
"I'm not ashamed of Bobby.... not of him an' not of how much we love each other. It's.... all this is new to me.... strange. I'm still gettin' used to the fact that I can really trust anybody. You, Claire, Hobbes.... you're safe. It's easy to talk about hard stuff when I feel safe. If some stranger sees my ring an' asks.... what if I don't know what to say?"
"You did mean it when you said you aren't ashamed?" Eberts asked as he set the bottle aside and lifted Bobbi up to his shoulder to burp her.
"Absolutely. That would mean bein' embarrassed about Bobbi Claire. She did nothin' to deserve that."
"Well then. I think your answer, as overly simplistic as it may sound, is to tell the truth, always, and 'let the chips fall where they will' I believe is the phrase. Whether a stranger accepts you and your marriage or judges you harshly and unfairly is on their own heads, Darien. Let them settle accounts with their consciences or not. It isn't up to you to change what the ignorant, uninformed portion of the world's population believes. You have your own life to lead and your own problems to solve. If someone doesn't understand.... they don't. That doesn't mean you necessarily have to run into the streets and announce the date of your ceremony at the top of your lungs...."
"I get that." Darien laughed quietly. "I still need to think about this, I guess. I'm gonna take everything you said into consideration, I swear. This is just really.... tough."
"I know it is. If I might suggest consulting Robert? He's sure to be thinking about this as well."
"Yeah... not right now. Bobby's got so much to deal with at the moment..... what happened Friday on top of what he always has to face...... You know."
"I do. I'd be perfectly willing to listen if you feel..."
"I would, it's just..... the doc comes first, 'cause I need her to help me deal with it. Then I'll tell Bobby, 'cause.... he was there. Anybody else....."
"Of course. If either of you...."
"Yeah. Thanks."
"Oh my. It's nearly eleven-thirty. If you're going to make your therapy appointment you should be going."
"I guess so." Darien agreed, but he stayed at the window.
"It's getting difficult?"
"Difficult..... you could say that. Did Claire or Bobby....."
"They haven't told me anything but basic details. Robert said if and when you were ready you'd tell me."
"I will. I promise."
Eberts rose and moved to stand beside Darien, offering Bobbi to him. To his shock, Darien backed away, his expression one of barely controlled panic.
"Darien....."
"Like you said, I gotta go. I'll see you at the house tonight, okay?"
"Wait. What's going on?"
"I can't. Tonight...." Darien mumbled, turning and escaping from the office.
Even before her mother made it all the way out the door, Bobbi began to whimper softly, wriggling and fighting Eberts' hold on her, strongly conveying her 'put me down now' message even without a mind to mind link. Gently, Eberts began to pat her back and soothe her as best he could.
"I'm sorry, Roberta. Shhh. I know you don't understand. Neither do I. Your mother loves you, little one. He's just very upset right now. Everything will be alright soon, I promise...."
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"Darien. I'm so glad to see you. I'm pleased you decided to come back."
"Not much choice." he replied, ambling into the office and dropping into the same chair he'd occupied on the previous two days.
"Of course there is. There's always a choice."
"Not this time. I...I can't keep doin' this. I'm gonna really lose it if...."
"If what?"
"My baby's godfather tried to hand her to me this mornin'.... I freaked. I freaked.... an' I ran away..... from my own child...."
"Do you know why you did that?"
"I was terrified. I've *been* terrified since Friday. That was the last time I held her...."
"Friday morning?"
Darien nodded, pulling his legs into the chair and his knees to his chest exactly as he had yesterday. This time, however, his head stayed up.
"You're shielding again."
"What?"
"You're shielding. Pulling into yourself like that, it's a defensive posture. What are you defending against, Darien?"
"Everything. Just.... everything."
"Tell me one thing. Just one to start with. You don't have to do it all at once. One baby step at a time."
"I'm afraid of her.... what kind of parent is afraid of his own daughter?"
"What about Roberta Claire suddenly makes you afraid?"
"Maybe.... it's not really her. It's me. It's the pictures in my head.... from that day....."
"Pictures of what?"
"Horror movie stuff... except it was real. All of it was real.... but I don't want it to be. I keep thinkin'.... if I touch her she'll know..... I can't let that happen."
"What will she know?"
"What I am.... what I saw."
"Are you ready to tell me a little bit about that day; what you saw, what you felt?"
"No.... can't you just..... make it go away? Make it leave me alone...."
"Sorry but it doesn't work that way. Only you have the solution to this."
"If I start talkin'... I may not be able to stop."
"Would that be such a bad thing?"
Darien produced a short humorless laugh and looked at the wall.
"I've been in prison, lady. You know, prison? Hardcore, lowest common denominator, don't drop the soap or you'll find out why? There are things noone should have to hear."
"I've counseled parolees for eight years. I think I've pretty much heard everything."
"That's them. I'm me an' I don't think about that anymore."
"You did bring it up."
"Only as an example.... look, can we drop this?"
"Fine with me. Shall we get back to Friday, then?"
Darien lapsed into sullen silence and continued to study the wall. "Guess not. You gave yourself a week to figure this out. An hour a day for five days. You're already on day three and that's.... fifteen minutes gone." she told him, consulting her watch. "I get the sense you were expecting instant answers when you came here. Poof, you're happy, abracadabra, everything's wonderful. I'm not Harry Potter, Darien. I can't recite some obscure Latin and make everything okay. The only magic words that work in here are the ones you've locked up inside you, the ones you're struggling so hard not to say."
"I don't know how...."
"Like I said, one baby step at a time. We'll work with simple questions at first. Why were you in the situation?"
"How much has Bobby told you... about what we do, I mean?"
"Nothing classified. I know you both work for the government."
"Yeah, well.... this..... we were on assignment Friday, but it really started the day before. It was goin' so well. In my wildest nightmares I never thought....."
"Something went very wrong didn't it?"
"Oh, yeah.... in spades. Wrong isn't even..."
Darien paused then abruptly began to backpedal. "No. I can't do this.... I tried, okay? I tried, but I can't go through it again.... I won't...."
"You haven't *stopped* going through it since it happened. I won't judge you, Darien. That's not my job. I'm here to listen and give you feedback. That's all."
"Somebody should...."
"Should what? Judge you?"
"I wish..... what were we talkin' about?"
Despite a distinct feeling that something vital had been deliberately glossed over, Cheryl merely noted Darien's evasion in her book and let it go, knowing they'd come back to it eventually.
"You were talking about the assignment. You're doing really well, Darien. This is more than you've managed in two days. Keep going."
"Wednesday.... they told us about this.... cult." Darien began, adjusting the real story as he went so as to conceal any classified details. "They.... they've been around for a long time, I guess.... but nobody ever got close enough to get anything on 'em."
"Religious?"
"No. It sounds weird I know, but their religon is sci-tech. They think they can.... breed the perfect kid."
"It sounds like a neo-Nazi offshoot."
"Kinda.... if the Nazi's had access to computers, cloning and gene manipulation. Our bosses got word that the cult... God, how am I supposed to say this.... You went to med school, right?"
"Yes."
"You remember what you did when a culture you were growin' went bust.... or an experiment didn't turn out?"
"Of course. You.... you destroy it... and start again." Cheryl answered him, stumbling over her words as his point sank in.
"Nail on the head. Give the doc a stuffed animal." Darien laughed bitterly.
" 'Course the bastards wouldn't wanna get their hands dirty, would they? Can't have a perfect body without a nice freshly washed mind to go with it.... The cowards.... they set the kids up...."
".... to do it themselves." Cheryl finished quietly, her suddenly tight throat nearly choking off the words. "How old were they?"
"Ten.... some younger, but I'd bet there wasn't one older than that. Fifty kids..... fifty beautiful, innocent kids..... without a clue what they were doin' or a chance in hell of seein' Monday alive."
"Except for you and Bobby."
"Yeah.... except for us."
Tears streaming down his face, Darien fell silent. After a moment, he rose from his chair and walked around it to where two walls of the office made a convenient corner. Slowly, he sank to the floor in lotus position, his back turned to Cheryl.
She observed him for a few minutes, then rose to her feet as well. Dragging the chairs they had both been sitting in, she arranged them much as he had been doing in his nightly sleepwalks then joined him in the corner, one arm around his shoulders, silently consoling and comforting him for the rest of the hour.
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TBC......
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WEDNESDAY MORNING
Standing at the window of Bobby's office, Darien stared out at a bright sunny morning, wishing sadly for the easy joy with which he'd once seen the world. As he and Eberts talked, Darien cast occasional glances back at his daughter's godfather, who sat in a newly purchased rocking chair feeding the little girl who had become the absolute light of his life
"Rings? Nah. Well....You really think so, Ebes? I don't know...."
"It is just my opinion, of course.... but rings would seem to be essential. They're such an important symbol." Eberts offered, urging Bobbi to finish the last ounce or so of milk in her morning bottle.
"To the world maybe. Bobby an' I know how we feel about each other. What do we have to prove to anyone else?"
"It isn't about proving anything, per se. It's about the promises you'll make to Bobby and the promises he'll make to you. It's about a circle.... a commitment that never ends."
A thought struck Eberts suddenly, one he disliked the feel of, and he voiced it reluctantly and as gently as he could. "Darien. Could it be that.... perhaps you're afraid a ring *would* be a symbol to the world? Something that would induce others to ask questions or start conversations you aren't sure you're prepared to deal with?"
Darien immediately flushed a deep crimson and turned his eyes downward. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion.
"I'm not ashamed of Bobby.... not of him an' not of how much we love each other. It's.... all this is new to me.... strange. I'm still gettin' used to the fact that I can really trust anybody. You, Claire, Hobbes.... you're safe. It's easy to talk about hard stuff when I feel safe. If some stranger sees my ring an' asks.... what if I don't know what to say?"
"You did mean it when you said you aren't ashamed?" Eberts asked as he set the bottle aside and lifted Bobbi up to his shoulder to burp her.
"Absolutely. That would mean bein' embarrassed about Bobbi Claire. She did nothin' to deserve that."
"Well then. I think your answer, as overly simplistic as it may sound, is to tell the truth, always, and 'let the chips fall where they will' I believe is the phrase. Whether a stranger accepts you and your marriage or judges you harshly and unfairly is on their own heads, Darien. Let them settle accounts with their consciences or not. It isn't up to you to change what the ignorant, uninformed portion of the world's population believes. You have your own life to lead and your own problems to solve. If someone doesn't understand.... they don't. That doesn't mean you necessarily have to run into the streets and announce the date of your ceremony at the top of your lungs...."
"I get that." Darien laughed quietly. "I still need to think about this, I guess. I'm gonna take everything you said into consideration, I swear. This is just really.... tough."
"I know it is. If I might suggest consulting Robert? He's sure to be thinking about this as well."
"Yeah... not right now. Bobby's got so much to deal with at the moment..... what happened Friday on top of what he always has to face...... You know."
"I do. I'd be perfectly willing to listen if you feel..."
"I would, it's just..... the doc comes first, 'cause I need her to help me deal with it. Then I'll tell Bobby, 'cause.... he was there. Anybody else....."
"Of course. If either of you...."
"Yeah. Thanks."
"Oh my. It's nearly eleven-thirty. If you're going to make your therapy appointment you should be going."
"I guess so." Darien agreed, but he stayed at the window.
"It's getting difficult?"
"Difficult..... you could say that. Did Claire or Bobby....."
"They haven't told me anything but basic details. Robert said if and when you were ready you'd tell me."
"I will. I promise."
Eberts rose and moved to stand beside Darien, offering Bobbi to him. To his shock, Darien backed away, his expression one of barely controlled panic.
"Darien....."
"Like you said, I gotta go. I'll see you at the house tonight, okay?"
"Wait. What's going on?"
"I can't. Tonight...." Darien mumbled, turning and escaping from the office.
Even before her mother made it all the way out the door, Bobbi began to whimper softly, wriggling and fighting Eberts' hold on her, strongly conveying her 'put me down now' message even without a mind to mind link. Gently, Eberts began to pat her back and soothe her as best he could.
"I'm sorry, Roberta. Shhh. I know you don't understand. Neither do I. Your mother loves you, little one. He's just very upset right now. Everything will be alright soon, I promise...."
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"Darien. I'm so glad to see you. I'm pleased you decided to come back."
"Not much choice." he replied, ambling into the office and dropping into the same chair he'd occupied on the previous two days.
"Of course there is. There's always a choice."
"Not this time. I...I can't keep doin' this. I'm gonna really lose it if...."
"If what?"
"My baby's godfather tried to hand her to me this mornin'.... I freaked. I freaked.... an' I ran away..... from my own child...."
"Do you know why you did that?"
"I was terrified. I've *been* terrified since Friday. That was the last time I held her...."
"Friday morning?"
Darien nodded, pulling his legs into the chair and his knees to his chest exactly as he had yesterday. This time, however, his head stayed up.
"You're shielding again."
"What?"
"You're shielding. Pulling into yourself like that, it's a defensive posture. What are you defending against, Darien?"
"Everything. Just.... everything."
"Tell me one thing. Just one to start with. You don't have to do it all at once. One baby step at a time."
"I'm afraid of her.... what kind of parent is afraid of his own daughter?"
"What about Roberta Claire suddenly makes you afraid?"
"Maybe.... it's not really her. It's me. It's the pictures in my head.... from that day....."
"Pictures of what?"
"Horror movie stuff... except it was real. All of it was real.... but I don't want it to be. I keep thinkin'.... if I touch her she'll know..... I can't let that happen."
"What will she know?"
"What I am.... what I saw."
"Are you ready to tell me a little bit about that day; what you saw, what you felt?"
"No.... can't you just..... make it go away? Make it leave me alone...."
"Sorry but it doesn't work that way. Only you have the solution to this."
"If I start talkin'... I may not be able to stop."
"Would that be such a bad thing?"
Darien produced a short humorless laugh and looked at the wall.
"I've been in prison, lady. You know, prison? Hardcore, lowest common denominator, don't drop the soap or you'll find out why? There are things noone should have to hear."
"I've counseled parolees for eight years. I think I've pretty much heard everything."
"That's them. I'm me an' I don't think about that anymore."
"You did bring it up."
"Only as an example.... look, can we drop this?"
"Fine with me. Shall we get back to Friday, then?"
Darien lapsed into sullen silence and continued to study the wall. "Guess not. You gave yourself a week to figure this out. An hour a day for five days. You're already on day three and that's.... fifteen minutes gone." she told him, consulting her watch. "I get the sense you were expecting instant answers when you came here. Poof, you're happy, abracadabra, everything's wonderful. I'm not Harry Potter, Darien. I can't recite some obscure Latin and make everything okay. The only magic words that work in here are the ones you've locked up inside you, the ones you're struggling so hard not to say."
"I don't know how...."
"Like I said, one baby step at a time. We'll work with simple questions at first. Why were you in the situation?"
"How much has Bobby told you... about what we do, I mean?"
"Nothing classified. I know you both work for the government."
"Yeah, well.... this..... we were on assignment Friday, but it really started the day before. It was goin' so well. In my wildest nightmares I never thought....."
"Something went very wrong didn't it?"
"Oh, yeah.... in spades. Wrong isn't even..."
Darien paused then abruptly began to backpedal. "No. I can't do this.... I tried, okay? I tried, but I can't go through it again.... I won't...."
"You haven't *stopped* going through it since it happened. I won't judge you, Darien. That's not my job. I'm here to listen and give you feedback. That's all."
"Somebody should...."
"Should what? Judge you?"
"I wish..... what were we talkin' about?"
Despite a distinct feeling that something vital had been deliberately glossed over, Cheryl merely noted Darien's evasion in her book and let it go, knowing they'd come back to it eventually.
"You were talking about the assignment. You're doing really well, Darien. This is more than you've managed in two days. Keep going."
"Wednesday.... they told us about this.... cult." Darien began, adjusting the real story as he went so as to conceal any classified details. "They.... they've been around for a long time, I guess.... but nobody ever got close enough to get anything on 'em."
"Religious?"
"No. It sounds weird I know, but their religon is sci-tech. They think they can.... breed the perfect kid."
"It sounds like a neo-Nazi offshoot."
"Kinda.... if the Nazi's had access to computers, cloning and gene manipulation. Our bosses got word that the cult... God, how am I supposed to say this.... You went to med school, right?"
"Yes."
"You remember what you did when a culture you were growin' went bust.... or an experiment didn't turn out?"
"Of course. You.... you destroy it... and start again." Cheryl answered him, stumbling over her words as his point sank in.
"Nail on the head. Give the doc a stuffed animal." Darien laughed bitterly.
" 'Course the bastards wouldn't wanna get their hands dirty, would they? Can't have a perfect body without a nice freshly washed mind to go with it.... The cowards.... they set the kids up...."
".... to do it themselves." Cheryl finished quietly, her suddenly tight throat nearly choking off the words. "How old were they?"
"Ten.... some younger, but I'd bet there wasn't one older than that. Fifty kids..... fifty beautiful, innocent kids..... without a clue what they were doin' or a chance in hell of seein' Monday alive."
"Except for you and Bobby."
"Yeah.... except for us."
Tears streaming down his face, Darien fell silent. After a moment, he rose from his chair and walked around it to where two walls of the office made a convenient corner. Slowly, he sank to the floor in lotus position, his back turned to Cheryl.
She observed him for a few minutes, then rose to her feet as well. Dragging the chairs they had both been sitting in, she arranged them much as he had been doing in his nightly sleepwalks then joined him in the corner, one arm around his shoulders, silently consoling and comforting him for the rest of the hour.
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TBC......