SEVEN
* * *
And I see.
It is her way, the only way. Perhaps she is weak in this, my daughter. Perhaps that she cannot confront them directly is a sign of a failing in her. But I understand, now, as I stand there, as the nurse administers the sedative, as Lucy slips into unconsciousness, I understand why.
It is the only way. Her other efforts, weak and feeble and often misguided, were not enough. They were crippled by love, by that desire in all of us to be loved, to have our mother's kindness and approval, to have a spouse who is a partner, not a master. Each time she could, she also could not.
Could not leave, could not confront, could not stand. And each time in their words, their demands, they drove her back just a little more, made her a little more helpless, a little more the child.
And so when even death was denied her, there was nowhere else to go.
#
Annie and Kevin stay for a long time. This is the only way they can see her and I know how it tears at them. But that doesn't matter, as I sit in the quiet room with them, watching their faces and watching the ragged, destroyed thing that was once my beloved daughter. But it is different now, different from last time or the time before. Because I see what they are, my wife and son-in-law, see that I have been blind all these years.
I wonder what I am to do. To protect my daughter I must destroy my wife. I must get Lucy away, forever, from her own mother and her own husband. Because there is no compromise in them, in either of them. They are happy and are kind only when they are right, when the rest of us submit to them.
As I have always done.
Already I am thinking about what I will say to Lucy the next time I come. I'm sorry? I allowed your mother and husband to destroy you? How can I atone for my sin, for my failings as a father?
Can you ever forgive me, Lucy?
Maybe. I hear Annie's voice as though it is far away.
"Come, Eric. It's time to go."
I follow. We leave Lucy behind and as we do another thought occurs to me. She at least will sleep alone tonight, protected behind the bars of her self-induced cage. She has escaped after all.
Her refuge is far safer than my own.
THE END
* * *
And I see.
It is her way, the only way. Perhaps she is weak in this, my daughter. Perhaps that she cannot confront them directly is a sign of a failing in her. But I understand, now, as I stand there, as the nurse administers the sedative, as Lucy slips into unconsciousness, I understand why.
It is the only way. Her other efforts, weak and feeble and often misguided, were not enough. They were crippled by love, by that desire in all of us to be loved, to have our mother's kindness and approval, to have a spouse who is a partner, not a master. Each time she could, she also could not.
Could not leave, could not confront, could not stand. And each time in their words, their demands, they drove her back just a little more, made her a little more helpless, a little more the child.
And so when even death was denied her, there was nowhere else to go.
#
Annie and Kevin stay for a long time. This is the only way they can see her and I know how it tears at them. But that doesn't matter, as I sit in the quiet room with them, watching their faces and watching the ragged, destroyed thing that was once my beloved daughter. But it is different now, different from last time or the time before. Because I see what they are, my wife and son-in-law, see that I have been blind all these years.
I wonder what I am to do. To protect my daughter I must destroy my wife. I must get Lucy away, forever, from her own mother and her own husband. Because there is no compromise in them, in either of them. They are happy and are kind only when they are right, when the rest of us submit to them.
As I have always done.
Already I am thinking about what I will say to Lucy the next time I come. I'm sorry? I allowed your mother and husband to destroy you? How can I atone for my sin, for my failings as a father?
Can you ever forgive me, Lucy?
Maybe. I hear Annie's voice as though it is far away.
"Come, Eric. It's time to go."
I follow. We leave Lucy behind and as we do another thought occurs to me. She at least will sleep alone tonight, protected behind the bars of her self-induced cage. She has escaped after all.
Her refuge is far safer than my own.
THE END