Chapter 62: Amélie's Amorous Adventure / Rage Against the Machine
"For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul." – Judy Garland
"Fall seven times, stand up eight." – Japanese Proverb
"God could not be everywhere and therefore he made mothers" – Anon.
On their way to the bedroom, Sydney said quietly, "Francie doesn't know what we do for a living…she doesn't know what really happened to Vau–, Michael…Will works at the CIA too, but I thought it better to wait…"
"I understand," Amélie said and Sydney pushed open the door.
"Maman!" Vaughn said, his face lighting up like he was nine again.
"Michel!" Amélie said happily, moving towards the bed as Sydney closed the door behind them.
Amélie looked at her son and her happiness turned to concern when she got a good look at Vaughn's condition, "Oh my God Michel!" she said quietly but exasperatedly as she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead.
"I'm ok Maman…"
"No, I think you are most certainly not ok…look at you…you have oxygen? Michel…you're a mess." She sat down on the bed next to him.
"Thank you…" he said smiling. Sydney mused silently that Vaughn almost turned into a nine year old in the presence of his mother; she just brought it out of him.
"Would someone please explain to me how this happened to you?" she said addressing both Vaughn and Sydney.
"I was kidnapped…" Vaughn started, looking at Sydney, "and held for almost 20 days…"
"Held, held where? Who did this to you?"
Sydney took over momentarily, "His name is Arvin Sloane. He has a personal vendetta against me…his wife was killed in an unfortunate accident and he decided to take it out on Vaughn…he…" she looked at Vaughn, unsure if she should really continue, but he nodded, "he tortured him for those 20 days until I got to him."
Amélie gasped, "Tortured?" she said astonished.
"Yeah…" Vaughn affirmed.
"How badly are you injured? You don't look well Michel, why aren't you in the hospital?"
"I couldn't stand to be in the hospital anymore…"
Sydney jumped in, "We had a rather unfortunate experience with the staff at the first hospital he was at…"
"First hospital?" Amélie said confused.
"After that we took him to the Naval hospital…they released him to my care," Sydney said proudly.
Vaughn smiled at his mother and Sydney, "She takes wonderful care of me Maman…"
Amélie smiled, "I'm sure she does dear…why is no one answering my other question about injuries?"
Vaughn grimaced, "Maybe you don't really need to know all of them…" he suggested lightly.
"Michel…" she warned.
"Sydney," he said, "go ahead…she knows them better than I do…"
Amélie turned her attention to Sydney, who moved over to sit next to Vaughn in her usual spot on the bed.
She began, "Well…he has a lot of injuries, and it seems really scary at first, I was scared too, but he's doing really well. Ok, let's see if I can remember the list…he has…13 rib fractures and 4 costochondral separations, one punctured lung, the other almost collapsed, spleen damage – but it was repaired, a concussion, a dislocated shoulder, four broken fingers, a sprained ankle and a boatload of bruises and cuts…yeah…that's about it for the physical damage."
Amélie paled, "Michel," she said quietly, tears springing to her eyes, "My God! You could have been killed…"
Vaughn grabbed his mother's hand, realizing she was probably totally reliving his father's death, "Maman, I'm ok…really…I mean, I know it sounds bad, and it's a really long list, but I'm doing much better. If you'd have seen me when I first came to the hospital…really, I'm doing better…please don't cry Maman…"
She tried to compose herself, "I can't lose you too Michel…"
"I know…" he smiled grimly as his mother moved to hug him.
"Sydney, what did you mean when you said 'physical damage?'"
Sydney looked to Vaughn who shared her look of uneasiness. "Uh, Vaughn…you wanna field that one?" she said tentatively.
He looked to his mother again, "I was tortured…so…uh…well…I have nightmares…and…"
Amélie waited for her son to add more as her hand went to cover her mouth thinking about her son and what he'd endured. She threw her arms around him, kissing his head repeatedly, rocking him like a small child. He let her do it, knowing it was more for her own comfort than his, but it was nice that his mother was there. When she finally let go, she had somewhat composed herself.
She pursed her lips; "I really wish you would have called sooner, I could have come sooner then, and helped…"
Vaughn smiled, pulling off his best innocent little boy act that Sydney smiled at, knowing it must work on his mother as well as it worked on her, "I'm sorry Maman…I should have called…I've just…had a lot on my mind, a lot to deal with…"
"Of course you have dear…" she shook her head, "Damn government jobs…had to follow him didn't you…"
Vaughn smiled at his mother's scolding tone and then yawned noticeably. Sydney smiled as Amélie looked over at her.
Sydney said, "Maybe we should let you rest for awhile, huh? You've had a rough morning…"
Vaughn smiled at Sydney and pulled her over to kiss him. Sydney thanked him silently for that; he didn't have any qualms about kissing her in front of his mother – that was good.
"You take a nap…I'll wake you when it's time to take your pills if you're not up by then, ok?"
"Uh huh…"
"Sleep well Michel," Amélie said as she kissed her son on the forehead again and moved off the bed.
"You'll keep my mother occupied I'm sure, won't you Sydney?" Vaughn said as Sydney moved off the bed as well.
"You bet I will, she and I are going to have a long talk about your boyhood embarrassments," she chided.
"Oh yeah, I can't wait…Maman, don't tell her anything too embarrassing…"
"Well, Michel, you know you didn't call…"
"Oh man, I am in such trouble," Vaughn said as the two ladies closed the door to the bedroom.
Sydney looked over at Amélie, "Would you like something to drink? Maybe we can sit out on the porch then and talk."
"That'd be lovely dear."
Sydney nodded and Amélie followed her to the kitchen. She made two glasses of iced tea and directed Amélie to the patio.
"Sydney?"
"Yes?"
"Is my son ok?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you think he's really ok? It sounds like he's had a…very rough time…"
"He has…he was tortured, and the hospital experience was horrid…he was better at the Naval hospital, but he just really wanted to go home…"
"Home?"
Sydney smiled bashfully, "Well, I consider this Vaughn's home…I think he does too…he didn't feel safe at the hospital…"
"Why not?"
"He was pretty much terrified of everyone who wasn't me to be completely honest. I'm not going to lie to you, it hasn't been easy for either one of us…we both make mistakes, and it was really hard for him in the beginning…to trust anyone…truthfully if he hadn't known the doctor at the Naval hospital, he might not be here, but he stops by at least once a week to check on him. Tom Barker, Vaughn said they went to college together…"
"Yes, I remember Tom…very nice boy…he's Michel's doctor?"
"Yes…"
"Does he have bad nightmares?"
Sydney looked at Amélie trying to decide how truthful to be, "Yes…they're bad sometimes…last night was particularly bad…we had a really bad night and morning…he had a muscle spasm before he even had breakfast and he had a really high fever last night as well…"
"Muscle spasm?"
"Yeah, the muscles in his chest and ribs involuntarily contract and constrict when he does too much physical activity or sometimes if he gets too worked up and then…well…it's not pleasant."
"What do you do for him?"
"We have morphine shots that relax the muscles and then he has a bunch of medications for various things – inflammation, swelling, general pain…"
"I'm sure that's not very pleasant for you either…"
"No, it's not easy to see him in so much pain and not be able to do much about it…but we do alright…"
"How long is the recuperation period supposed to last?"
"Three to four months."
"You willingly signed on for all of this? Agreed to take him home with you and take care of him here? Put your whole life on hold?"
"I love your son…and I'm not putting anything on hold…he is the largest part of my life now anyway…"
"I can tell…I'm glad you love him…he's loved you for a long time…"
Sydney looked at her questioningly.
"He has?"
"Yes…he used to tell me about you…he'd call sometimes at horrid hours of the night and morning, telling me he couldn't sleep because you were somewhere…"
Sydney smiled remembering their conversation from that joyous day when SD-6 had fallen.
"I can tell you take very good care of him…"
"Thank you," Sydney said sincerely.
"He depends on you a lot doesn't he?"
"Yes…but that works both ways…he's been my lifeline for a long time, it's my turn to return the favor."
"It's rather ironic don't you think?"
"What?"
"Your relationship…considering…"
Sydney knew this was coming, "Yeah, we…well, we don't really talk about it…Vaughn's the bigger man here…he's the one that could hold the grudge…I'm very sorry…"
"There is no need for you to apologize…"
"Can I tell you something?"
"Of course."
"My mother, she saved Vaughn…"
"What do you mean?"
"She made the call, she told me where he was so I could go get him. If she wouldn't have called…he'd probably be dead…"
"I see…that adds to the irony doesn't it."
Sydney looked at Amélie amazed; she certainly was an amazing woman.
"I'm glad that you're there for him…"
"Me too," Sydney said.
They sat in silence for a while, enjoying each other's company.
Sydney finally had to ask, "So…what kinds of things did Michael do when he was younger?"
Amélie smiled, "You mean what kinds of things can I divulge to you that would embarrass the hell out of my son?"
"Exactly!" Sydney said smiling.
"Well…Michael was a very enjoyable child. He was quiet and introspective yet mischievous and rambunctious at times. He was very well rounded. He had of course his moments when he was a small boy, he'd get into trouble and the like. He was always very athletic…" Amélie stopped for a moment thinking, "He changed somewhat after his father died…although I tried to make it clear, I think he felt as though he had to be responsible…had to be the man of the house. I think some of William's friends even mentioned that to him, and he took it to heart. He was always a very loving child, and after William's death, he was very protective of me." Amélie smiled fondly at the memories. "He became a man very young Sydney, a boy that tried to take on the role of a man…he cried the day of his father's funeral, and never after…" she added sadly.
Sydney was near tears, realizing how much this whole ordeal must have affected him for him to cry again openly. "I'm so sorry that my mother took your husband away from you and made Michael grow up too fast…"
"No, no…this wasn't my intention…you asked about Michael as a boy, and I'm telling you. He turned out better than I ever dreamed; he's a wonderful son and a good man. You don't need to apologize. You are not your mother and Michael doesn't blame you in the least and neither do I…but that's not really what you want to know about…so let's see…really embarrassing…hmm…he broke a window once when he was about six. He was playing in the back yard and I told him to hit the ball the other way because he was hitting it towards the house. He didn't listen and let one fly and it hit the bedroom window. I ran in to the room to see what happened and found a familiar looking baseball on the floor. I ran outside to find Michael but he wasn't in the yard. I was really getting worried because I couldn't find him, but I eventually located him in the basement. He was terrified when he saw me. I asked him why he wasn't playing baseball anymore and he lied through his teeth! I kept up the charade for a while before laying the guilt on. I explained that we could solve any problem as long as he always told me the truth. He caved, crying, and confessed. We had a nice long chat then and a glass of milk, I remember. When William got home, I explained that the window had been broken by accident. William made Michael do a few extra chores but I averted a large crisis between father and son. And Michael never lied to me again…as far as I know," Amélie said smiling.
Sydney was smiling too, "That was so good, classic! I can totally just imagine him doing it!"
"Yes…he was a delightful boy…would you like to hear more?"
"Yes!" Sydney said quickly and enthusiastically.
Amélie smiled and thought a moment; "He never learned to say ketchup until he was about six or seven. William would try to correct him but I though it was so adorable so I never did. He used to say it 'check-up.'"
Sydney laughed.
"He played in a pee wee hockey league…William introduced him to hockey but William never played himself. He loved to watch Michael though…Michael would fly across that ice…and he'd be so happy when his father would come to a game. William came to as many as he could, but he was busy a lot at work. Michael would play ten times harder when William was there. Not that he didn't play hard when he wasn't, but he was always amazing when William came – he'd put so much effort into making his father proud – that's something that's stuck with him…" She looked to Sydney who nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, I figured that, but Vau–, Michael doesn't really talk about his father much…I'm sorry, it might be driving you nuts, but I'm just so used to calling him Vaughn – it's more of an endearment than anything else anymore…"
"I understand…Michael's always been a bit of a perfectionist too – he'd get extremely angry with himself if he made a mistake – more so after his father died. Before that, William and he would talk about it; Michael would ask his father's opinion on how to improve whatever he made the mistake on. I think he had a rather awful time after his father died. It wasn't that he didn't talk to me, but something was missing…a few days after the funeral Michael asked me to take him to the ice rink. I drove him and he skated all day long. All day…after that, if he needed to get away, he'd go the rink. It was quiet, he could think, he told me. I liked to watch him too – every once in a while, I'd go down and just watch him for hours without him knowing I was there, watching him work out his frustrations, his anger, whatever…"
Amélie stopped a minute, obviously deep in thought about something.
"You know," she continued, "I can only remember one time when Michael really lost control. I think it was one of those things that had been building. He rarely talked about his father then either…he was about 15 I guess. He got into the usual fights that boys get into in a heated hockey game, but he never looked for fights like some boys do. He didn't like violence as a general rule…this one game…a boy from the opposing team made a comment about Michael being fatherless and I believe he made it seem as though William had been a coward or something. Well, Michael tolerated it for a while, but after a few times, he was very angry. The boy took it a step further and checked him on the ice…and Michael lost all composure. I remember watching…Michael threw down his gloves and basically attacked the boy. The referee couldn't pull him off. I ran down as close as they would let me get, watching with fear and a kind of terrified amazement as my son pummeled another child. Another referee finally came over and they were able to pull Michael off and they threw him out of the game…"
Amélie stopped, shaking her head, as if trying to rid herself of the unpleasant image. Sydney stayed quiet, just thinking about what Amélie had said.
Then she continued further, "I met him at the door and the look of fear and rage in his eyes made me stop. We didn't talk on the way home and when we got in the door, he went to his room and changed and then came back into the kitchen…I think he was waiting for punishment…
Flashback
"Sit down Michael," his mother said in English…boy, he was in trouble.
Here it comes, he thought…but his mother simply looked at him. She turned towards the refrigerator and pulled a few things out. Michael couldn't see what she was doing. When she turned, she handed him an ice pack and set a glass of milk in front of him.
He looked at his mother with a questioning look.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly.
Michael looked at her uncertainly.
She smiled and sat down next to him, placing the ice pack on his left hand, which was bruised and bleeding slightly. She got up and disappeared. Michael thought that perhaps she had given up on asking, but she came back a few minutes later. She said nothing as she sat down next to him again, removing the ice pack. She busied herself cleaning his knuckles with antiseptic. She placed a gauze pad over them and then wrapped it with more rolled gauze. The she replaced the ice pack. Michael took a drink of the milk.
Amélie was silent, waiting for Michael to start. When he actually started talking, she had to lean closer to hear him.
"…don't know what happened…it was like I snapped – it wasn't me anymore…I couldn't stop hitting him…I didn't want to stop. I just wanted him to stop talking. He kept saying things…about dad…and I couldn't take it anymore…it scared me mom."
"Why do you think it happened Michael?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Can I make a guess?" she prodded gently.
He nodded.
"Michael, I think this has been coming for a while – years – probably about seven? I think you've sealed yourself off Michael and I think all the anger and the hurt over what happened to your father and me and you…those all built up. I know we talk, but I'm surprised you haven't had an outburst sooner. It's ok to be mad…or anything you need to feel. You don't have to be so controlled all the time with your emotions…You're still a child Michael; you should be one as long as you can. I'm sorry if I haven't made that clear enough."
"Mom, I have been a child. I don't know…it was like everything compounded at once."
"Do you feel angry a lot?"
"No…and I DO talk to you when I need to…it's not like I wear my heart on my sleeve but I'm not like guarded all the time either."
"No, I think you're very well balanced and adjusted."
Michael smiled, "Thanks…" he took another drink of milk. "So you're not mad at me? You're not going to ground me?"
Amélie smiled, "No Michael. I'm not mad and you're not grounded. Just remember to talk to me if you start to feel that way again, ok? Let's skip the violence in the future…"
"Ok mom."
"I love you Michael, more than you'll ever know," she said hugging her son tightly.
"I love you too mom."
End Flashback
Sydney stared at Amélie as she finished the story. "Thank you."
Amélie smiled, "I'm sorry, I've probably talked my welcome away…"
"NO! It's so nice to hear about Michael's childhood. I love it." Sydney stopped, glancing at her watch.
"Oh! Amélie, I have to wake Michael and give him his medication. I'd love to hear more, just give me a few minutes…if you're still up to more story telling…"
"Of course, I'll come with you…"
"Ok."
