Excerpt: Bogged Down

Opening Scene:

“Forgive, sounds good
Forget, I'm not sure I could
They say time heals everything
But I'm still waiting

I'm through with doubt
There's nothing left for me to figure out
I've paid a price
And I'll keep paying

I'm not ready to make nice
I'm not ready to back down
I'm still mad as hell and
Can't bring myself to do what it is you think I should

I know you said
Can't you just get over it
It turned my whole world around”

The Dixie Chicks sang in the background as Mia sat there looking through an impressive catalog of work, spanning some nine years. That’s how long she’d been enmeshed in this thing she called a “relationship”. Another nine years spent loving someone that was unworthy of her love, her trust her loyalty.

It was another Wednesday night and she had the house to herself. The lump on the couch was doing G-d’s work. Choral rehearsals. These Wednesday nights had all too often been spent rushing around with to do all the things they talk shows said “You should do” for yourself. Manicure, Mask, and incests. All that rushing around and still no real release. Why do all that rushing to “De-stress?” Mia wondered as she watched the car spirit her “partner” away for the next 3-4 hours. Once the car had sped off Mia would race to the linen closet, next was the cubby under the china cabinet. Then finally the pitcher and basin under the sink. With each trip she’d unload the items gathered by the end up with the center of the ‘42 round butcher-block table completely filled in. Next on the list was the music selection. The play lists would rotate slightly, from week to week.

One week it might be folk inspired music, CSN to P. P. M, whereas the next it night might be sacred music ranging from the traditional liturgical music of the ancients to the more contemporary sounds of Debbie Freedmen. The whole process would often take as much 45 minutes of those precious 180 minutes, but ultimately it would be worth it, she told herself. Lord knows the rest of her week often left her feeling as though her own existence might not be very worthwhile. A life spent living alongside an emotionally stunted leech of a woman. What had once been a good deed, had over time become a Steven Stills song. “If you can’t be with the one you love...” Yup, her life had become a conglomeration of cliche’s. Tonight was the night she’d chosen to take stock of where she was and how she got there.

There were no facials tonight, no manicures.... just some welcome comfort food and CSN on the play-list for tonight.

8 poems dedicated to the only person she’d felt understood her. The first person to make her feel truly pretty.

23 poems dedicated to lump

3 poems dedicated to the abhorrent, detestable beast she’d fallen under the spell of while attempting to survive her first major break up. From the first person she’d felt loved and understood her for who she was. It was the end of this relationship, that had led her here to this predicament.

Sitting crossed legged on the bed Mia began searching in earnest through her impressive collection, that in total represented some twenty years of poetry. For proof of her descent into oblivion. As she paged through the shards of her life she took her spoon in hand and stabbed and the defenseless little pint of Chunky Monkey sitting beside her.

“ kindling in the making?” She asked herself in an attempt at staving off the crushing sense of overwhelm at all she’d been through. She stopped to read a few. Then reaching for the box of tissues began berating herself once again. “What did I think I was doing?” I’ve spent more time giving pieces of myself away to these people and immortalizing the relationship than on how I was giving these parts away, wasting my emotional investments on people that either couldn’t return those feelings or didn’t spend one moment taking those feelings into consideration in the first place. What a waist of Mia....” She sighed as she eyed the pint of Chunky Monkey at her side, pondering the wisdom of another mouthful. Plunging the spoon in to the container one last time, she shoveled in one last heaping spoonful. Before replacing the cover, bounding out of bed, racing over to the freezer and placing the hapless container back on its shelf.

While in the kitchen , Mia went about taking the food out to prepare the now long delayed dinner. Kate always had trouble eating food alone so it fell to Mia not only to prepare and most often serve the food but partake of it with her as well. To insure that Kate, a diabetic since roughly her thirty-second birthday she would have the nourishment she needed to sustain.

Yes, most things fell to Mia. If someone needed a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on, general care giving, they all knew who to call. “Mother confessor, big sister to the world.

That’s what Kate called her when she wanted to let Mia know she was feeling over-looked. Hey, it fit why fight it, Mia most often thought.

Fifteen minutes to show-time. ‘Pot on stove, check. New plates out, check. Mountain Dew, her. (How can she drink that?) Check. Ginger Ale, me, check.’ Mia thought to herself as she looked over the condense now gathered on the counter at the ready. “What am I missing?” she asked herself as she turned the burner off. “Oh, well, what does it matter anyway. Put food down in front of her and... ‘Oh, shit that’s it. The TV. She’ll want to know what she’s missed. Shit. I haven’t seen a thing tonight. SHIT!” OK, TV on. President Bartlett addressing the usual suspects. They’re preparing for a dinner. Oh, great. I didn’t read the cast list. Shit. She’ll want to know who’s guest starring. Shit.” Ah, OK, James Brolin. James Brolin? Oh, shit I’m so screwed. Why is he there? What’s he playing? Shit. Oh, G-d ten minutes and counting. Shit. Phone, that’s it I was on the phone. Ok, think girl who were you on the phone with? Make it good. Someone that would keep you on... Not Randy Cowpoke 42 all that’ll do is upset things early. She all but hates “Andy”!

Oh, shit think.... Lenny, yeah, she knows how he can drone on and on. It’s one crisis after another with him. Yeah, that’s it.... Lenny!’ “Whew!” she exclaimed just as she heard the elevator stop at her floor. Moment’s later the key turned in the door. “Oh, G-d let it have been a busy night”. Mia whispered silently as Kate walked in.

Scene Two:

“Hi, dinner will be ready in a sec, here. How was rehearsal?” Mia offered from the safety of the kitchen.

“Well, the car got here late so, of course I was late. Carol didn’t like that. It throws everyone in my section off to have to wait for me.” Kate offered with an already defeated sigh. The driver said he had down pick up for 7:40 when I need to be in the city at rehearsal by 8pm sharp. Like that’s gonna happen. I mean I’ve been using this company for how long now? And they still make me call in to set up a pick up time with them. Like it ever changes. Wednesday nights 7:15, Tuesday and Thursday nights 4:40 for a 5:30 appointment. I mean, come on people. It’s not rocket science for Christ-sake!”

‘Yup, she was home and in good form. G-d help me.’ Mia thought as she put the now filled plates down at the table. A table no one ever ate it. A table reserved for shitting up and clearing only for Mia’s rituals or the cyclical holy observances. No, no one came to partake of their food so why give in to pretenses? Meals were eaten at the couch or in a chair parked in front of the television. That served as a source of refuge or conversation, depending on what the situation called for. Ah, yes, the television. That was one thing that never failed ‘em.

With the dishes resting in the rack, Mia came back into the living room to sit with Kate and watch the evening news. A ritual begun long before anyone had ever heard of the names Harris and Klebold. Long before anyone would have ever dreamed that planes would tear the heart of a nation. Rituals, there were times Mia would find herself rather perplexed by how habitual some of those rituals had become.

Scene Three:

Once the tv had been turned off the women retreated to bed. Another ritual, though one Mia could do without at this point. This ritual had begun long ago as well. This one was based on a practical needs.

Kate who had come for lunch one day and seemingly stayed two weeks had before either of them noticed made herself at home, at Mia’s. Mia would invite her over to help rearrange furniture in her then new apartment. Soon, they were sharing stories and meals. Once it had been established that the woman Kate had been rooming with was involved in drugs and sexual coercion. Hearing this and having had at least one conversation with Kate’s roommate at the time.
Mia decided she had no choice, (at the wise old age of twenty of course,) but to keep Kate out of that house. So, rearrange the furniture became. “Come on over to watch this awards show. Became, that pair of jeans looks like it’s died on you and no one told you to bury them. Charge it!” And that’s how one lunch became two weeks, two weeks grew into twenty years.

Sleep never came easy and no matter how long it lasted it never seemed long enough. Even something as simple falling asleep has its’ ritual in Mia’s life. Get in, find a comfortable position. Kate would then get in and the bed would settle. Mia was no shrinking violet at 4'9 and 135 lbs. Still Kate was no slouch either at 5'1 and a hefty 237, down from her heaviest which had been ---- 317. But that was the year her father had died of heart failure.

If weight was the only issue that would have explained some of the restlessness, but that was only part of the equation. Kate would often wake up with “Night terrors”, several times a week. Then there were the seizures. Kate had been diagnosed with Epilepsy in childhood. These seizures would come most often over night. So, Mia would never know which of these issues would disrupt her sleep and for how long. Would it be a single petit mal seizure, or perhaps a series of mini seizures like the night Kate had eight seizures in seven hours. The first of which had occurred when Kate was at the bank. The last of which prompted a call to Kate’s mother who when she heard what had happened told a shell shocked Mia to take her daughter to the emergency room if things don’t improve by morning.

Never once telling the worried young woman that she would even meet them there. Knowing full well that Mia herself was physically challenged being born paraplegic and using a wheelchair to get around. Neither Kate nor Mia drove and with Mia not being a “Next of kin.” even if they could get there Mia would not be able to instruct anyone as to Kate’s wishes, should it have come to that. It was moments like these that plagued Mia as she lay there listening to Kate’s breathing.

Scene Four:

At three-thirty in the morning,... With a subtle twitch it started. Snarling sounds, the heaving chest and flailing arms, and Mia has sprung into action. She rolled onto her right side and reached over to Kate starting with her right forearm she began stroking. Once the jerking and twitching had stopped Mia looped her arm through Kate’s and hugged her firmly, grabbing Kate’s left hand and prying it open. All the while whispering... “It’s OK, you’re safe. It’s OK.... shhhh.... he doesn’t know where you are. They can’t get you now.”

She knew the words to use. She knew the people Kate Feared, she knew all of this so long, she wasn’t sure she could ever forget. But boy would she have loved the chance to try.

At some point, though it was no longer clear just when, but at some point Mia seemed to take on what had happened to Kate as if it was almost her own humiliation. This hadn’t begun as anything resembling a “relationship”. Not even a real “friendship”. Mia and Kate’s (Alliance) had started as a profound need for healing. Mia from Lewis and for Kate it was Don & Nereza .

Thursday passed as most Thursdays’ did of late. Kate, parked on the couch in her lounger... lounging until food was necessary. Mia would try to stay invisible. She was getting really good at that. Scary good at it. It stayed that way until it was time for Kate to dress to get ready for the ride to her session with Ruth.

Ruth had picked up where Mia’s helpfulness seemed to have stumbled. Kate Met Ruth the year before Mia’s father became ill for the last time. Ruth came after Tammy, who had been with Kate for close to a decade when she was promoted and so deserted Kate. People had a way of doing that to Kate. It started with her mother Goldie. She kept leaving young Kate in the care of housekeepers and a brother that would in turn use her as a tackle dummy and when that no longer worked for him. He raped her. But that was only once. So, maybe it didn’t count.

No amount of care and guidance was going to make Kate whole, 13 years of therapy and nurturing from Mia had proven that. The hard part was getting Kate to see that it wasn’t Mia’s job to try. No matter what the therapist of the “Month” was Mia could never truly go “on leave.”

The clock struck 3:40 and off she ran! Kate grabbed a shirt from the hanger and jumped into her well worn jeans. Next run comb through 20's bob Mia had trimmed for her just last week. The final preparation was to select a piece of Jewelry. Could be a bracelet Mia would be pressed into duty for those. Or perhaps a neckless that could simply be slipped over Kate’s head. Then on her way to the door, she’d grab a drink and downed her anti seizure medication grabbed her cell phone, and head out the door.

Scene Five:
As Mia watched the car turn the corner she raced over to the missionary style desk where the portal to the world dwelled. With a jab the sound, a whoosh and the lights blazed a bright green path to humanity. A gentle tap of an icon and acceptance felt that much closer.

Once the familiar drone sound had subsided came the thrill of the slow drawl... “Welcome Darlin’.” Mia had chosen this voice as a reminder that she was safe. It was the closest thing she could find in the (Wav) files on AOL to that of her guardian. Ross was unlike any man she’d ever “known”. He was wickedly funny, warm and friendly, flinty and playful. But when it came time to write, or offer an “ear” he could be loyal, dependable and yes, protective. Not only of his own work but of those he believed worthy of that loyalty and friendship. Mia had become one of the chosen early on in her journey through cyber space. Though she didn’t quiet notice this right away.

She wasn’t online 3 months when she’d found the writing board. She began posting there within a week. The contest that week had been What Was Your Most Pivotal Life Changing Event? She’s written that there’d been two and there was no way to choose between the two. Just that opening sentence and she’d garnered notice from several factions. So, a lowly note posted telling her “You have something to say young lady.” Kinda got shuffled to the bottom of the “attention” pile.

It wasn’t until almost three years later that he’d spotted her in the room and they got to talking. He asked to see one of her pieces and after having read it. The memory of that first piece was triggered. He IMed her back...

“Yup, I knew you had something to say.” Her reply came swiftly this time....

“Huh?”

“Your first piece hon, (Forever Altered.) Your piece for the boards about the loss of you childhood friend and you pa”

in an instant she felt flushed. She’s long ago forgotten that ‘derided’ piece. At least that was how she’d seen it. It took a few minutes for her to respond to his post.

“OMG! You saw that? I was so sorry I’d posted it that less then seventy-two hours later I was looking for the board monitor to ask if it could be taken down. The only reason it remained up till week’s end was because I wasn’t successful in finding the person.” Mia Gasped.

It was that night that solidified a friendship both were sure would see them through any and all of life’s vicissitudes. Still, it had taken another three years for them to exchange phone numbers and by then her fascination was complete. They’d speak online nightly and offline at least weekly. This last part had been going on 4 months at this point.

Depending on her state of mind she’d tell herself that these calls were to ‘reinforce’ the mentioning that had started in e-mails and had also recently moved to (private chat rooms). However, there were other times when she told herself the calls were a natural progressing of their IM’s which had become increasingly intimate.