The Expert
We needed long to come over what Ryan had said. It was hard to accept his rejection. Why did he fight us that hard? Did we hurt him in anyway? Okay, my husband hadn't been too nice towards him. But he can't tell me he didn't feel the tension between them. He did. I watch out to the pool house. I miss to watch the lights are on in the night. I miss him sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter. There's so much I miss about him, but I miss his heart most. Again I'm on my way to the hospital. I'm in a rush. My husband told me that this expert – a woman and psychologist specialized in…whatever, wanted to come by today. I wasn't able to listen. The urge to prepare my son for this was too huge. I need to prevent she thinks of him as a sixteen years old adult. I nearly run through the hallways. She'll arrive some when between noon and morning. I hope my son is already awake.
"Mrs. Cohen, good to see you." Someone calls my name from behind. I turn around and see Dr. Conrad. I have no time for a conversation with him. On the other hand he only came here because of my son, so I need to be polite.
"Hello."
"I just wanted to ask, whether you've made a decision." Yes we did. But if this plan works is another topic and not being discussed with a doctor.
"I'm sorry. But we can't decide this." I tell him honestly.
"What? Why? Mrs. Cohen this is serious…"
"I know and if my husband and I could, we already would have made a decision by now." I see his strange look and it's time to explain.
"We're only Ryan's foster parents and not allowed to make decisions like that, without the agreement of one of his real parents or the guardianship court." Saying this hurts me. I've seen how he suffers. I've seen in his eyes he doesn't want anything more than someone who can make this decision for him. But he's alone. He has to make this decision, because this is, what the court's decision depends on. I'm honestly. I can't imagine any kid making a decision pro surgery. This idea is just too intimidating, even for me as an adult. When I enter the room he's reading a book. It seems as if he's on his way to get better.
"Hi honey." I greet him. I so hope that we didn't hurt him yesterday with our idea. He looks up from his book and offers me a lopsided smile.
"Are you better today?" I ask him. He only nods, shuts the book and lays it aside. Only now I see it's a book with Sudokus. I have to smile inwardly. I never thought that he would copy this habit.
"I…I don't want to annoy you or bother you, but can I just talk once more with you about this surgery?" I ask him. In his eyes I see a shadow of fear, but he nods and tries to get into an upright position. He's still in pain, when he's moving too fast or too quick – when he's moving at all. No wonder he has huge wounds one on his stomach and one on his back.
"Are you sure that you don't want this surgery?" His glance drops onto the blanket.
"Yes." He whispers.
"You know what that means or? I don't want to frighten you or tell you not to decide against the surgery, but I want you to think about the consequences." Maybe he only had forgotten what Dr. Conrad had said about the cast solution.
"Never walking again. I got it." He answers. I'm shocked. He does know about the consequences. He knows what he's doing. Why can he accept never being walking again, but not a surgery? What was going on in his…I better ask him, before racking my brains about it.
"What makes you afraid of that surgery? You'll be able to walk again. You won't have to wear a cast. You would be freer than with a cast." I want him to see what he's agreeing to – not agreeing to – when he refuses the surgery. He's looking away.
"Ryan can you please say something to me?" I want him to be honest to me. I want him to talk about the fears which are written on his face.
"I…just can't…it's…" He stammers. He's searching for words and the courage to tell me. I know how hard it is for him. The more I was surprised when he came to me in the morning before he tried to run and told me about all those things.
"Ryan, when you're afraid that's okay. But…you can't let your fear determine your whole future." I tell him. I want to show him that I'm fully aware of what's going on in him and that I can understand him. I want to take the discomfort away from him.
"Do…did you ever had a surgery?" He asks me. I shake my head. Fortunately all my organs are still where they belong to.
"But Sandy did and I tell you he was badly frightened of it." I tell him. I want him to know that he's not alone and that there are people who can feel with him. Plus, I want him to see that my husband doesn't want to hurt him and can understand him too. My husband is just not able to show it to him, when he's on his wits' end.
"Sandy…and…afraid?" He asks me. I see the disbelieving in his eyes.
"Yes, ask him. Ryan, I know you and Sandy…there is a little tension between you two. But I can assure you, Sandy loves you as much as I do. He only feels helpless and you know what this must mean to him." I explain him. I hope I can get through to him, before this woman arrives. I look at him. His eyes are so sad.
"You still don't believe me – us – when we tell you this. But I promise I'm not lying to you and when we told you about the adoption we were damn serious about it. We want you to be our son. We want to be your parents – those who make the unpopular decisions and drive you insane. And we feel like that deep from our heart." I can't imagine ever been able to talk like that to someone, but the boy forces me to do things I didn't even think I was capable of.
"With unpopular you mean…like this one?" I nod.
"You don't want to decide this, right?"
"I…can't. It's…I …They already fixed one of my bones due surgery, after …one of my Mum's boyfriends…freaked out." He starts to whisper and I prepare myself for what will come next. His stories are never bedtime stories.
"And…my Mum filled all forms and…left me alone, the whole night. The next morning…they brought me into this huge cold…operating room and…I still know how fucking afraid I've been then…but my Mum hadn't been there. And when I woke up again, my…my arm hurt like hell…I…thought I was going to die…it was worse than the fracture itself…but my Mum wasn't there. She only…came to pick me up…when I was allowed to go home." Oh. My. God. What kind of mother was able to leave his kid alone in such a situation? Where had been her maternal instinct? She at least could have been there, when he woke up.
"How old have you been then?" This question isn't important, because no matter how old your kid was, no age justified such behaviour.
"Twelve I think. It's…just it's no fun…if you're alone after…you know what." His voice is shaky and hardly audible. It breaks my heart to hear that he still thinks he has to get through to this alone, when we – Sandy, Seth and I – are around.
"Oh sweetie, you wouldn't be alone. We are there for you. Don't even think we would leave you alone with this." He's focusing the blanket, hadn't lifted his head only for a second, not allowing me to read his expression. Now it's more than obvious why he had refused the surgery. He was really afraid and we didn't want to accept it. I can't imagine having witness him being afraid any time before. Ryan never was and is afraid of anything, but this also was and is only a mistake. He still is a kid, but when I – we – noticed it, it usually was too late. We really should stop thinking of him as an adult, not matter how rough and independent he seems from time to time.
"Ryan, if I promise you that you won't be alone…would you reconsider your opinion?" I ask him. He shrugs his shoulders. He looks so lost and there's nothing I can do to save him. I feel that he's already too far away from us, as if I could just jump after him and get him back into our boat of family.
"I…don't…think…you can promise this. You…you'll break it…" I feel the urge to slap his face. I never would leave him alone with something like that. How can he even think this?
"Ryan that's not true. I never would leave you alone with this and Sandy neither." I tell him
"Nobody can keep promises. It's okay." He says. This is so frustrating. He still doesn't trust us. What have we done to make him…no it had been the others. But he was living with us for so long now and he still isn't able to break his habit of distrust.
"Ryan you have to…" A knock at the door interrupts our conversation. A woman steps in. Corpulent, stern, unfriendly looking. This was the so called expert? I look at Ryan and he looks at me – for the first time this morning. He doesn't look confident about this woman either.
"Good morning, I'm Dr. Arndt. Judge Warron sent me. I'm here to talk to Ryan."
"And about what?" He asks her.
"Nothing, just a little small talk. The judge for example would like to know what you think about your leg. But nothing important." She says. My chest nearly bursts. This was a lie.
"And she wants to find out whether…" I want to tell him the truth.
"You better go now. I want to talk to Ryan now." She stops me with her harsh voice.
"Can …can she stay?" He sounds intimidated and helpless as a child now. No mature all handling Ryan, but one who's asking for help and support.
"No." She answers harsh and then I witness something I've never witnessed before and what I'm afraid of. His face darkens and his aura had changed. One look into his eyes tells me that he won't allow this woman to see, what he allowed me to see. This woman never will see the intimidated and frightened Ryan, who's more a kid than he wants to admit. Now I'm the one who's afraid, because exactly this is what my husband saw himself helpless towards. This is what will make the decision – a wrong one.
"Okay Ryan, I'm outside, but if something happens, I'm there." I try to assure him, but it doesn't help to tear down the wall of maturity. I don't want to leave him. But I have to and now I beg that this woman is able to look behind his facade, that she realizes what's hidden under his behaviour. I can only pray for this to happen. I sit down on a bench. I don't look onto my watch, because this will make waiting only longer and harder. I call my husband. I need him by my side right now. This woman was a monster and I…I could kill this bitch. And I should stop thinking in these words. I'm waiting and waiting – for my husband to arrive and for this woman to leave.
"Hey honey, what's wrong?" My husband arrives, at least one to wait for less.
"This expert is there and…she's a monster. " I explain him.
"These experts usually are monsters. They're forced to judge objectively about the situation."
"Yes but she can destroy everything. Sandy…Ryan…Ryan was talking to me…told me what's making him afraid of the surgery…Sandy this was the first time he admitted that he's still a child and not mature enough to make this decision. This is proof enough to know that he's not capable of making this decision." I try to explain him. In somehow I hope he can prevent something – anything, but if he could, he already had done something.
"He did? That…that's good not only concerning the guardianship court. He eventually starts to open up to us – you. Do you know what this means? He trusts you. That's a huge step forward." My husband's enthusiastic, but doesn't understand.
"Yes in that way…but…this woman…how she treated him. I can't describe you what went on with him. But from one into another second he switched from kid into adult – into the Ryan nobody can get through to." I tell him and now his face tells me he isn't happy about anything anymore. He's frowning – thinking.
"That's manipulation. If she's able to make him change in his behaviour, she won't be able to get an objective opinion. I'll appeal from it, if necessary. I won't allow her to manipulate my son." He's in rage again.
"Sandy, there's not enough time for that. You'll never be able to get through with something like that within the end of the week."
"What means the health of our son – his future – his determined by a woman who isn't able to handle him?" He asks me.
"He'll probably be crippled for the rest of his life." I say these words and they hurt me. I know that he'll never be able to walk as he used to – not even with this surgery. But this surgery would bring him more relieve and could at least fix his knee as much as possible. They could get a maximum of recovery due this surgery and most important he won't have to suffer from pain in his leg, only because his bones grew back together crook. I don't want to imagine what's ahead from us. Ryan will never be able to handle this on top.
"I know this doesn't belong here right now, but do you know, what happens to his father's corpse?" This is hanging above our heads like the Damocles sword. Because I'm sure he won't take it too well.
"Do you really want to know that?" My husband asks. I nod. "There's a military funeral in two weeks." I gasp for breath. This was the last straw. I can imagine the boy want to attend this funeral. His father was his last family member and as it seemed the only one he was close to. But this was too fast, especially when he was put into a cast.
"And when did you think about telling him?" I ask him. I don't want imagine what happened if we just stood silent about this, but telling him that he wasn't able to pay his last respect to his father could break him. Okay, he was broke right, but this could shatter him. On the other hand I must say honestly that it as well can be that Ryan doesn't want to attend the funeral. His reaction after his father had told him about his plans, had been a significant indicator for us to see that he didn't take it well and wasn't going to forgive his father that easily.
"I only got to know it today." In two weeks. This is impossible…if we wait for a decision from the guardianship court. And then there's a click in my heart, one which is also affecting my head making it click there as well.
"Do you still have the forms?" I ask my husband.
"What…why? You can't be serious…Kirsten you can't…"
"Oh yes, I can." I tell him. And how I was able to. There was nothing being able to stop me from that.
"I don't think this is a good idea…you've seen…"
"Sometime you need to force people to be happy." I tell him and right after that the door to his room opens and the monster-bitch of a woman comes out.
"May I ask what conclusion you came to?" My husband asks her.
"You'll hear on the day of the hearing. But just among us…a quite mature boy for his age. I don't think there will be too much work for the judge." The worse introduces itself to us, but I'm not afraid of it, because I'll fight it and I have a plan and I'm sure this plan works.
"Goodbye." The woman says and then stamps away. We enter the room. He lies in bed curled up as good as possible – the sign he doesn't feel good about something and I can imagine what it is, he doesn't feel good about.
"Hey, how was this…woman."
"A bitch." He grumbles. "Sorry." He adds. He knows I don't like this language and he really tries not to use it.
"This time you're right." I tell him and sit down on the edge of the bed. I want to stroke over his cheek, but he doesn't allow me.
"Was it that bad?" I ask him. I'm able to read him more and more. Discomfort, pain, sadness and frustration – and all emotions linked to that – make him drifting away from us. But when he starts to feel comfortable around us he starts to talk and let us get a little closer than usually. That's easy.
"Don't wanna talk about it." He answers.
"Kid, I promise everything will be okay. There's nothing you have to be afraid of." My husband says. He tries to repair the cracks in their relationship, tries to lighten the tension. But Ryan doesn't respond. I never had thought that it was me one time he trusts more than my husband. I want to help them, because Ryan needs both of us. But this is something I can't influence. It's something between my husband and him and I have to respect it. Anyway I would risk the bond between him and me and this is out of question. If he doesn't even trust me anymore he'll alone again and I have to prevent this. I'm his mother and I have to be there for him and I will be.