HELGA
I'm sitting in the group therapy room. My chest tightens as my hands tingle with tension. Everyone is staring at me and I'm staring right back. I should be scared to talk; yet my confession rolls out smoothly with only a few stumbles in my
"I knew what my mother was. I knew what she did at night, what she did all day, and what she really meant when she said 'smoothie.' It obvious to everyone, except my dad." I paused, letting myself cool down. I was not here to bash my family, no matter how good it felt.
"I always promised myself that I would not end up like her. I always made sure that what I did in life was different from her. And now…" I sniffled some, taking out an overused hanky to wipe away my mounting tears. My face reddened, lips crimping and twisting. "Stop Whining!" my inner voice screamed, "You're such a pussy!" But then a louder voice, one that reverberated from every bone I had shouted, "Don't be so hard on yourself! You need this!" This inner battle was much easier to fight with Arnold by my side.
"All right," Pat said, putting a thick hand on me, "I think that's it for today. See you tomorrow at nine sharp! And remember!" Everyone stood, stapling hands to one another, "Work it because you're worth it!" I sighed deeply and lowered my head as the group spoke it, letting the small syllables tumble over me with relief. But when the group starts to break apart, I felt this slight emptiness burro inside me. All I wanted was my son. I could feel the weight of him on my arms as I pressed them to my body.
"It's hard isn't it?" Pat says as she hands me some coffee.
"You have no idea. I mean, I know you do, but…wow…you never truly know how much something means to you until it's taken away." She nods in agreement and puts her hand on my back to direct me the activity room. We sit by the huge windows, staring out at the frozen city below us.
"I have to say Helga, since your friend visited yesterday you seem much better, considering." I sniff and sip the coffee, smiling a small some.
"If you say so."
"Really," she continues, "I mean it! Most people don't make as dramatic a change as you have. And in one day, no less." I sigh, looking outside. Hillwood is still wet from the unseasonable rains, but by the way the cars inch along the roads it was easy to see that it had cooled off harshly. The trees near us have a thick casing of ice around them, the thin limbs looking like brown veins.
"I guess it helps to know I still have a best friend. She says I have to wait for Arnold to come around, and that's what I'm doing. It hurts, but…I'm not going to screw this up. I already hurt him so much." I take out the hanky again and start dabbing my eyes clean, not wanting to cry. But after a moment I realize that it's what I need to do. So I let it out, slowly and surely. Pat hugs me tightly, her meaty body encircling me.
"Thank you," I sigh, lingering in the hug. Suddenly, a harsh stench hits my face. I wrinkle my nose to try to get away from the fowl smell as I think of what it could be.
"What is that? Do you smell that?" I ask. Pat lets go of me and stands. Brushing off her clothes she says,
"Hello Sir, may I help you?" I could not believe whom I saw. His hair stuck up like stalks of wheat, face covered in red blotches, vomit stains, and visible dirt everywhere. His suit was crumpled with heavy spots, shirt way off white.
"Wha-what happened to you?" I try to ask, lips failing in total shock. Arnold sits across from me, head turned from my direction. As I hear him gather his breath in exasperated sighs I pray he'll look at me. He has to look at me. My husband has to look at me. In panic I try again to speak, my lips aching in effort to say his name. I can barely get passed the "Ar" before my sweet but shaken husband turns. Running his fingers through his stiffly stemmed hair Arnold says,
"I don't know how you do this everyday Helga. I had ONE strong drink and I'm about ready to die. My stomach hurts, my eye's can't stand ANY form of light, and no matter what I do, I can't get the horrid taste of puke out of my mouth! Not to mention that I feel like peeing every five minutes." He puts a hand on his belly to calm it, a gesture I know all too well. br
"Doesn't feel good, does it?" I say, eyes lowered in a mixture of sadness and concern.
"You don't even know the half of it!"
"I kinda think I do…" I put my hands on his, feeling terrible that my actions lead him to do this.
"Ya know…" he cries some, softly, "Phoebe told me you must have been really-really sad inside to drink this much. I didn't get it until now. It fucking HURTS to be alive." He clamped his eyes shut from the blinding florescent lights above us. They flickered a little as thunder and lighting exploded outside. Quiet settled in around us and I realize Pat must have left us alone. I can hear Arnold gulping.
"Helga," he started, tears streaking his red face, "I'm so sorry you felt the need to be this way. I'm so sorry you felt this depressed. When you first left…"
"You mean when you first dumped me here!" I blurt out harshly, suddenly aware that I was still a little mad.
"Ok, can you please not yell at me right now. I think you-of all people- can understand just how irritating sounds are at this PARTICULAR moment!" I lower my head again, apologizing softly.
"When you left…I didn't know what to do. I was so…lost. I tried really hard to forget you-to pack you away in some compartment of my brain. But the more I tried to erase you, the more you seemed to creep out of my subconscious. If I was not reliving happy memories in my dreams, then I was being reminded of you everywhere. In the starlit skies at night, in the Inception song we loved long before Christopher Nolen used it, and from the harsh drink I had last night. It's funny…when I asked for a strong swig I was giving something called an 'Inception.' At first I didn't want anything do with it. I wanted it go away, like you. But when the bartender told me how messed up it makes you, how it causes your world to mesh into that of a dream, I thought that drinking it would be the ONLY way to get rid of you. By drinking an inception I hoped to drink you…until there was nothing left." My Husband lowered his head, his face sinking in utter shame. I didn't know what to say.
Rain started up as we sat, thunder cracking every two seconds. Lighting followed and I felt sorry that his head would flash with pain while the city would be flashed in near daylight from the bolt.
"I can safely say I never want to feel this way again. I don't think my body can take it."
"You say that now. But wait until you're head deep into a depression that not even the most limber of people can get you out of."
"Helga, I was only depressed when I was without you!" He thrusts himself out of his chair comes to me, lifting me up. He presses me against his smelly body, but I don't care.
"As long as I have you in my life I know I will be happy." Arnold entangles my fingers with his, smiling through the pain. "What your going through is hard, but I think-together- we can beat this. I'm not going to leave you Helga Shortman! I'm not ever going to let you go." And then he kisses me, the clouds clearing as he presses his sweet but dirty lips on mine. His love embosses on my whole body as the kiss lingers, the stars slowly peaking through the sky. The moon bursts through shortly after and soon it looks like it had never rained at all. Arnold gingerly brakes away from me, still holding my hands.
"Would you look at the sky?" I say, suddenly awestruck at how calm the weather turned. My husbanded pressed his head next to mine as he glances outside. "I know," he sighs heavily, "It's just perfect."