AN: Long chapter here. The reasons why Emily kept the fact that she'd known April a secret from Roger starts to be revealed in this chapter, and will be completed in the next one. So prepare yourselves.
May 11, 1988
Emily, right before she began to help me quit heroin, explained all the possible withdrawal symptoms, to be sure I was prepared: restlessness, muscle and bone pain, insomnia, diarrhea, vomiting, cold flashes with goose bumps, and leg movements. She explained that major withdrawal symptoms peak between 24 and 48 hours after the last dose of heroin but will subside after about a week. I asked her once what made her such an expert. She blamed it on a combination of extensive research on the subject, coupled with the years of seeing newborn babies in the Center going through withdrawal. Needless to say, I never asked again.
However, nothing she said could prepare me for actually going though it. There were times when I actually thought I was going to die from the pain. Most of the time, I can't remember what happened during withdrawals. Thinking back, those moments are just blank places in my memory, with brief flashes of Emily wrapping a blanket around me, or massaging my legs and arms. The rest is a blur. But I do remember one time in particular. Emily was out of the room, bringing the laundry down to the washer in the basement, when my withdrawal hit its peak point, the one Emily had told me about. I couldn't stand being in so much pain. I don't know how, but I somehow found a pair of scissors in my hand, the ones Emily sometimes uses when she's developing her pictures. I can only remember thinking about the pain, and how I couldn't take it. It was at that moment that I could remember hearing Emily shouting something, as if from far away. Then, I was struggling with someone, fighting for the scissors. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was the feel of the scissors sinking into skin, and Emily shouting again. The next thing I knew, I was waking up on Emily's bed, hours later. When I looked down at my arms to asses the damage, I didn't even see the tiniest scratch. I couldn't understand it. I had stabbed my arm with a scissor, so why wasn't I hurt? That's when Emily came in with some hot tomato soup and grilled cheese for my supper. The first thing I noticed was a fresh bandage on her arm. That's when it hit me. It wasn't my arm the scissor had stabbed. I tried to apologize to Emily for hurting her, but she just looked at me for the longest time before telling me that there was nothing to forgive; that I wasn't of sound mind.
I can't stand Emily sometimes. How can she possibly have so much tolerance? If I get into a shouting fight with her, she'll just stand there calmly. She won't even shout back. I remember there was this one time Maureen and I read a book about Chinese astrology, about how some people believed that each person was somehow influenced by a certain element. If that's true, I'd have no hesitation in saying Emily's element was water. As it stated in the book: "Water people are creative and captivating, diplomatic and intuitive. Water individuals are the masters of subtle persuasion. Without even appearing to try, they can gain someone's trust and affection, and once they have it, that someone will follow them anywhere. They make everyone feel special, noting and praising each person's unique talents. With inherent pliability, the fluid calm that makes them so appealing can also make them sometimes too passive, too willing to be what someone wants them to be, tending to take the shape of whatever container they're poured into." If anything can describe Emily, it would be that, with heavy emphasis on the 'passive' part.
Flashback
April walked up to the dining hall of the Center, where Emily and Nana were already eating breakfast with the children.
"Hey! How you feeling?" Emily smiled as April shuffled in.
"Like sh… lousy," April replied, remembering in time that tThe Center had strict rules about swearing with children present.
"You look like you could use three years worth of sleep, April," Nana noted.
"Oh, leave her alone Nana," Emily scolded. "When your body's reacting to the sudden deprival of heroin, then you can talk. Here, April." Emily pushed a plastic yogurt cup and spoon toward April as she sat down at the table.
"No thanks, Emily," April sighed, making a face. "I don't feel like that stuff today."
"What? But it's peach yogurt. I thought you liked that."
"Excuse me!" April cried suddenly, hurrying to the bathroom. "I gotta pee!"
"Wha… that's the third time in the past hour!" Emily called after her. "That's it, Nana. This is not normal. I'm taking her to Dr. Jordan right after lunch, when the children are taking their naps."
"Emily, don't forget. The girl is going through heroin withdrawal," Nana mocked Emily's earlier statement
"Heroin withdra… Nana, frequent urination is not a symptom of heroin withdrawal. You know this, and I know this. I'm taking her to see Dr. Jordan, Nana. Even if it means dragging her down 34th street by her pinky toes."
True to her word, Emily had taken April to see Dr. Jordan. The middle-aged doctor had showered April with questions as he filled out the paperwork on the clipboard, and then had taken some samples of her blood to run tests. Now Emily and April had to wait until Dr. Jordan returned with his diagnosis.
"Emily, what are you doing?" April stared at Emily, who was currently fiddling with a wooden bead maze that was kept in the room for patients with little children.
"Oh, sorry," Emily grinned, stepping away. "I've just always loved these things."
"Glad one of us is having fun," April spoke dryly.
"Hey. You're not worried that this has something to do with HIV, are you? You have been taking the AZT, after all, right?"
"Yes. I have."
"Then there shouldn't be any reason to worry. You only were diagnosed a few days ago. Unless you haven't been taking the medications, the virus doesn't work that fast. Try to calm down. Worrying is pointless. It solves nothing, and only brings more stress. I remember there was this one time, I read about this guy, who exercised regularly, ate all the right foods, and was in perfect health. One day, he got audited by the IRS, and got super-stressed. BAM. Heart attack."
"Shockingly, this isn't helping."
"Sorry." The two girls sat in silence for a short time, with April fidgeting nervously every so often. Finally, Emily made a noise, like a combination of a sigh and a growl, and got up to stand right in front of April, looking directly at her, as if waiting for her to look up. When April finally obliged, to her great surprise, Emily broke into a slightly rusty version of a soft shoe. Seconds after Emily's dance began, April started to laugh loudly.
"Wha… what are you doing?" April gasped between laughs.
"Hey, got you to laugh, didn't I?" Emily pointed out.
"I didn't know you took dance lessons."
"I haven't."
"Then where'd you…."
"Bugs Bunny cartoons." Emily and April continued to laugh for about a minute, when Dr. Jordan finally returned with the results of the blood tests.
"Well, Miss Ericsson, I do believe I've managed to figure out…"
"What's wrong with me?"
"Yes and no. I've diagnosed the reason you've been experiencing the symptoms you and Miss Goodhall related to me. But I wouldn't actually say there's anything wrong with you."
"Translation, please, Dr. Jordan," Emily quipped.
"Well, usually, Miss Goodhall, I would ask you to step out of the room to tell Miss Ericsson in private, but seeing how you are, more or less, responsible for her care, due to her living in The Center, I can overlook that regulation." Dr. Jordan handed Emily a prescription sheet. "My first recommendation is to add this to the Center's medicine stores. It's highly recommended Miss Ericsson takes these, along with her regular doses of AZT."
"Dr. Jordan," Emily began slowly, studying the prescription closely. "This is a prescription for…" At that moment, Emily suddenly turned to April, eyes wide in surprise.
"What?" April asked in confusion. "What's wrong?" Emily fell back into a nearby chair, and handed the prescription sheet to April, looking directly at her to wait for her reaction. Hesitantly, April glanced down at the prescription. It was for prenatal vitamins.
End Flashback
Roger dropped the notebook, his face betraying his shock. The musician was completely unaware that everyone else was staring at him in equal surprise. At long last, he found his voice.
"A… a baby?" Roger whispered, standing up and starting to pace. But then his stunned state was replaced by anger. "How…? Why didn't Emily ever tell me I was a father?"
"Roger, calm down!" Mark tried.
"Da-m it, Mark! Don't tell me to calm down! April! She had a kid! We had a child! What if… my son or daughter might have been one of the kids we saw at the Center, and I would never have known!"
"ROGER!" Collins interrupted the rant. "Look at the date of this entry! The eleventh of May!"
"So?" Roger snapped.
"Did you forget when we found April in the bathtub, Roger?" Maureen imputed. "We found her in July! That was only two months later!" Roger froze as this fact sank in.
"Are you saying," he growled threateningly, "That April… when she was still pregnant…."
"Mr. Roger?" Penny spoke up. "Just continue reading. And… brace yourself." Roger turned to the seven-year-old, clearly wondering what she meant by that, but then, almost numbly, picked the journal back up to continue reading.
Flashback
Emily and April had returned to the Center in silence. Once they arrived, April had immediately headed up to the upstairs room she and Emily shared.
"April?" Emily finally spoke up.
"I'm going to take my AZT," April announced woodenly. "Dr. Jordan's orders, right?" Without another word, she continued up the stairs. Once up in Emily's room, April moved to the cabinet, where her AZT resided, right next to Emily's insulin, pausing to pat Wenceslas' head. Once the AZT bottle was in her hand, April collapsed onto the bed, the weight of the situation falling hard. Pregnant! She was pregnant! What was she going to say to Roger, if she ever got the courage to face him? How would he react? Then there was the AIDS. This child would definitely be infected, too. It was hard enough seeing the Center's children, knowing that they would die before their tenth birthday. How could she handle it if her child was one of them? This child would most definitely have AIDS. There was no doubt that she infected this baby, just like how she infected Roger. She was just infecting people left and right. It was better to end it now. As for this child, better that it died now then to suffer slowly. Steeling herself, April opened the AZT bottle and counted out about forty of the pills. That should be more then enough. But just as she was about to place them into her mouth, the door opened and Emily walked in.
"WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?" Emily screamed, realizing instantly what April was intending, and flying over to slap the pills out of April's hand. "ARE YOU MAD, WOMAN?" It took April a moment to get over the shock of seeing Emily angry for the first time.
"Go away, Emily!" April shouted back. "I have to do this!"
"Horse bunk! You don't have to do anything! Nothing can possibly warrant doing this."
"Bullsh-t, Emily!" April glared daggers, momentarily forgetting the no-swearing rule. "I have AIDS, if you've forgotten!"
"So? What's that got to do with anything?"
"I don't want to die!"
"Oh, I see," Emily fired back sarcastically. "You don't want to die, so you try and kill yourself? That's smart."
"Shut up!" April shrieked. "Don't act like you have any idea how I feel! You don't have AIDS! You don't have to worry about infecting anyone, about killing anyone. You don't have to worry about anything!"
"Oh, yeah. You're so right, April. I only just got to see my parents murdered when I was four, and have my brother and last remaining relative die from the virus, topped off with spending every day looking after kids and little babies with AIDS or drug addictions, with some of them dying within their first month. Oh, yeah. My life is just peachy!" Emily snapped. "News flash, Ericsson. No one ever said life was supposed to be easy. If it was, rocks would do it." The final part of Emily's rant came out gently, and absent of any anger or frustration. Likewise, April's anger disappeared and was replaced by sorrow.
"I'm sorry. I just can't forget it. This baby. What if it's infected too? It'll be my fault. Just like it's gonna be my fault if Roger's infected."
"It's not just you who has to deal with this, you know," Emily reminded gently. "You'd be surprised how many people come down with AIDS these days. Just ask Dr. Jordan sometime. Last week, he got twelve individuals with it. Don't know their names, mind you. The whole doctor-patient-confidentiality thing. As for the kid… well, you know… I have a lot of experience in caring for AIDS babies. If you need any help in raising it, I'm more then willing to help. And with the treatments that they have out these days, you can all live fairly normal lives."
"But… we could all…."
"Die. Yes, that is true. But for goodness sakes, April. You're living in New York. People get mugged, shot, stabbed everyday. Tomorrow, I could step outside to grab some bagels from the bakery, and get caught in a drive-by shooting."
"Your point?"
"All I'm saying is life's unpredictable, and sometimes the 'impossible' becomes possible. Make the best with what you're given, and don't torture yourself. It's like… you're reading a book, but you don't like the way it's going. The ending's not going to change if you stop reading. You just have to roll with the punches."
Emily and April sat in silence for a long time, until April finally spoke up.
"I… I think I figured out… what I'm going to name it…if it's a 'her'," she announced, rubbing her belly.
"Oh, really. What?" April flashed Emily a genuine smile.
"Musetta."
"Musetta? That's pretty," Emily smiled back. "Nice choice."
End Flashback
Maybe, being a mother won't be so bad. Ihave always loved kids. And if Emily's going to be around, then at least I can be sure my child, mine and Roger's child, will be able to live as long as possible. Knowing Emily, she will make sure of it.
AN:I did a lot of research for this chapter and the next one. If my mom managed to see my internet search history (heroin withdrawal symtoms, early signs of pregnancy, etc.) she'd probably ship me off to see a psychiatrist. (LOL).
How'd you like April's choice of her possible daughter's name? I thought it would be a cute way to show how much she loves Roger, you know? Anyway, prepare yourself. Next chapter will be dark. So, until next time...