FREE AND CLEAR:

What she needed to do was clear. Whether or not she had the courage and strength to do so was not. It was getting to a point of not having any choice in the matter. She would have to do it when the time came. As always, when her back was against the wall, the strength and courage would come, as they became necessary. She had to have faith in that. She didn’t have much else.

Well, save Brian. Her 8-year-old son was everything. She remembered well the humid early morning in August when Brian was born. Remembered and knew it was humid because they hadn’t made it to the hospital. He’d been born just outside the emergency entrance at Lehane County Hospital.

Over the years she’d become expert at dismissing the reason they’ arrived so late but just now she allowed herself to think on it. She would need this image and so many others as she prepared to do what needed to be done. The image that came to mind was of him at the bar. The way she’d pictured it anyway, since she was home, in labor.

She called him to beg him to come home but he wouldn’t hear it. He was going to be a father and he was going to celebrate that fact and she could just shut the hell up about it. She begged to come home and he could celebrate all he wanted after the baby was born. Still he wouldn’t hear it. He reminded her of the doctor’s words that first babies always take long. And then he hung up. He refused her calls from then on.

She remembered the pain and anguish and absolute loneliness she’d felt waiting for him to come home. She knew there’d be hell to pay if she didn’t wait. When her contractions were less than 2 minutes apart, she came very close to accepting his brand of hell, very close to dialing 911, when at last he arrived home. Arrived and started to berate her.

"Move your fat, lazy ass into the car woman. Christ you hurried me the hell home and then you waddle along like we have all goddamn day." The insults continued as they began their journey to the hospital. For once though she was barely aware of them. She knew only the pain of labor. They weren’t going to make it. Five minutes from the house and she had to push. She couldn’t help it. One good push and she could feel the baby starting to emerge. She reached between her legs and felt the top of his head.

"Donny hurry!! The baby’s coming out!!" The words came out in near screams and for once he didn’t yell at her. The urgency of her words seemed to sink into his brain and this time when he spoke to her he was surprisingly calm, surprisingly caring.

"Its okay sweetie. You just keep right on breathing and don’t you worry. We’re almost to the hospital. You just squeeze my hand okay." He reached back to her in the backseat and she did squeeze his hand and did find some comfort in it and the strength to not push through the next contractions. They pulled up to the hospital in near record time and he ran in to get help from the emergency room.

It was too late. Without him there she couldn’t stop herself from pushing on the next one and Brian emerged right out onto the backseat of the car. She had just enough time to think about how mad Donny would be at the mess in the car before the doctors and the flurry of activity started all around her.

That was how Brian came into the world and that was the last time she could remember Donny being either caring or concerned. From then on things took a frightening turn in the opposite direction. There used to be a time when he was only abusive with his words. Over the years he’d progressed to a point where he’d push her or shake her. Only when it was really bad did he ever smack her. After Brian came it was like he lost all control, all restraint.

His drinking got worse for one thing. Soon as the bar opened on the day Brian was born he was right back in it continuing the celebration of his son’s birth. So often it seemed that he’d never stopped celebrating it. Every day he came home just as drunk as the one before. How he’d managed to keep a job was nothing short of a miracle.

But as the drinking worsened, so did the abuse. He smacked her for not being able to keep Brian quiet at night. Then he’d smack her for being so tired that she needed a nap during the day. He smacked her for not hurrying with dinner and then he’d smack her for making convenience food.

Over the years smacks turned to punches. Pushes that used to just knock her to the ground, now knocked her into the wall. Shakes had been known to jar her so hard that she chipped teeth.

At first Brian was safe. Then when he was two he made the mistake that sealed his fate. Red juice spilled on the beige carpet. The smack on the back of Brian’s thighs left a hand-shaped welt that would last into the next day and a bruise that lasted a week. His screams left scars on her heart that would never heal. She of course received a hell of a beating for allowing him red juice in the living room. Then she received another one for not being able to quiet his cries.

She made a decision just then. She couldn’t bear to watch and to hear him beat Brian. She knew that the right choice was to leave Donny, but she was too frightened to do it. Instead she took a volunteer position at Prentice Park Home, a home for the elderly. It meant having to take Brian to a sitter every Saturday and Sunday afternoon, but it also got them both out of the line of fire for a time. Donny hadn’t balked at the idea. It got them both out of his sight and she assured him that he’d still have dinner on the table, on time.

Her weekends spent with her new friends at the home were among the happiest times she could recall in her life. There was Mr. Franks who told her dirty jokes over hands of gin and Mrs. Roselle who talked for hours of her family, though none of them ever came to visit. So many people who she laughed with and cared for while she was there and then cried for when they passed.

In the 6 years she volunteered there, she had made one very special friend indeed. That was Miss Nora Barbison. Miss Nora had an extensive collection of hats and she loved to sit at her vanity and try them on, one after the other. Each hat had stories to tell and she could never tire of hearing Miss Nora re-tell them. She had to admit that Miss Nora had a face that seemed made for hats and they seemed to make her look like a young woman again.

It was 6 weeks ago, when she was helping Miss Nora put her hats away that an idea occurred to her. It wasn’t even a fully formed idea yet, just the barest fragment of a notion. She acted almost subconsciously as she took the small object from the hatbox and slipped it into her pocket. She took it out several times since then and turned it over in her hands as she thought about what she must do.

She had it squeezed firmly in her hand when she told her friends at the home that she was going on vacation. Her friend Mary had a cabin up north in the country and they were going to spend the week with her. Just her and Brian, Donny couldn’t get the time off work. She told the neighbors about the trip to Mary’s cabin as well. There was no fear that they would mention this to Donny. He didn’t speak to any of them. They were idiots in his opinion.

She kept squeezing it in her pocket while she packed up their clothes, little by little, so he wouldn’t notice. She hid their bags in the laundry room. Since he never stepped foot in there, she knew they were safe. Each time she did the laundry she put an article of clothes or two in each of their bags. Now the bags were packed. Today was the day that she’d told everyone they were leaving on vacation. Today was the day when she would need all of her courage and strength.

She squeezed the object very tightly now as she watched him. He was passed out cold, flat on his back. This was his usual routine in the evenings after dinner. She could’ve left him so many times before but for some reason could never bear to do it.

But now squeezing the object in her pocket gave her the strength, just as squeezing his hand had given her strength when Brian was being born. She grabbed the suitcases, carried them outside and put them in the trunk. Bob from next door saw her as he came out to take out the trash.

"Getting all set to go I see."

"Yes, we decided to leave tonight rather than face the traffic in the morning." She smiled brightly to Bob. He’d been a good neighbor and she’d miss him.

"Well you drive safe," he said and after a pause added, "Be safe." These last words spoken to her with a seriousness that seemed to hang in the air. For a moment she thought he almost seemed to know what she was planning and then she decided that was just her paranoia and she brushed it aside.

"We will Bob, thanks." She turned back towards the house, still trying to shake off Bob’s words. She walked upstairs and found Brian in his room. She watched him playing his video game for awhile. She loved him so much that it hurt her heart sometimes to watch him. He was such a good kid. He didn’t deserve the misery that he was forced to live. Well all of that was going to come to a close.

"Hey buddy boy, what are you playing this time?" He jumped to the sound of her voice and then gave her an angry look.

"Mom, you just made me crash!"

"I’m sorry Bud. But I have a surprise for you. How’d you like to go to the movies?" He was excited at first and then dread stood out in his eyes.

"What about dad?"

"Dad is sound asleep. We’re not going to wait for him. Now come on and get your shoes on. Movie starts in 30 minutes. I’ll be in the car."

His dread turned back into excitement as he hurried into his shoes. She didn’t have to wait long for him to show up.

"What are we going to see," he asked her as he was getting his buckle on.

"Oh that’s all part of the surprise." They exchanged a smile and then she stopped and gave a worried look back at the house. "You know what Bud, I didn’t leave your Dad a note. Hang on a second I’ll be right back."

She went back into the house to the bedroom and found him still lying there, passed out cold, flat on his back. Perfect. She walked over to the bed and took the hatpin out of her pocket. She lined up the point just with his left nostril, holding it with her left hand and with a decades worth of pain and anguish she hammered it home with her right palm. She thought perhaps there’d been a spasm, but that could’ve just been from the impact on the bed. Otherwise, there was nothing.

She knew that it was called pithing, but she didn’t know or care if she’d done it correctly. Even if he wasn’t dead yet, she knew that he would be damaged enough that he would die eventually, left on his own. That’s all that mattered. It was the only way they were truly going to escape.

She left the note she’d written earlier on the hall table. It should be just the thing to buy them some time. The note, addressed to him but meant for the police, told him that they’d gone ahead and left early for Mary’s and that she would contact him once they got there. She wished him a good week and sent him their love. She imagined it was just what a happy wife would write to her husband.

She drove on into the night explaining to Brian as she drove that they were not going to the movies, at least not that night. They were leaving Donny for once and for good. Brian understood and took it very well. She knew that he loved Donny as had she in some respects, but they couldn’t keep living like this. Brian was a smart kid. He understood. He asked lots of questions and she answered them all patiently and as fully as she could. She did not tell him that his father was either dead or dying. Some day she might, but not now.

They headed south until they reached North Carolina. They stayed in a motel at first using the little bit of savings money she’d managed to scrounge without Donny noticing. She got a job cleaning rooms at the motel in exchange for their room.

She knew they would have to change their identities and explained that to Brian as well. It was easier done than she thought. Still it took money that she didn’t have. She was forced to go back to the dark days of her late teens and trade blow jobs for favors. But once they had their new names she reasoned she wouldn’t have to do it again.

They were safe in North Carolina for about a month. Then one night while watching the news she saw their pictures flash across the screen. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t think they’d actually look so hard for them. She figured it would’ve died out by now. I mean who cared about Donny anyway. That night they packed up and moved again.

They moved 3 more times in the 6 months they had been on the road. This last time she’d been too scared to show her face outside for fear of being spotted. As a result she’d been screwing their landlord in exchange for a place to stay. This was no kind of life. Sometimes while lying under him she fantasized that she was still with Donny.

It was clear to her what she must do. She just needed the courage and the strength to do it. This time the object in her pocket was just as long but more cylindrical than the last one she’d squeezed for strength. She’d been holding on to it for a couple weeks. Tonight their picture was back on the news. Tonight she’d have to do it.

Leaving the object on the counter, she fixed them up a couple of chocolate milkshakes, heavy on the chocolate and brought them out to the living room. She watched her now blond haired boy from the doorway for a moment. She loved him so much it hurt her heart.

"Let’s talk for a minute Bud." His look told her he knew what she was going to say.

"Don’t tell me, we have to move. Again." He was annoyed and she didn’t blame him one bit.

"I’m afraid so. But listen, let’s just have our shakes, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay." She offered him a smile and he returned it, albeit reluctantly.

"I wish we were back with Daddy." He’d learned quickly that was the way to manipulate her.

"I know you do bud. I’ve been thinking about that too. But I’m too tired to talk about anything else tonight. Drink up your shake and then we can go to bed and dream about your Daddy."

They sat side by side as he drank his shake. She was saving hers for a bit. She needed to think. He yawned a deep yawn.

"I’m so tired." His voice was groggy.

"Its okay Buddy boy. You finish off that shake and you can sleep right here on the couch." She started to drink her own shake by then. Slow deep sips. He only had a little swallow left when the glass started to fall from his hands. She grabbed it just in time and then got up to bring the glasses to the sink. She downed her own shake on the way.

In the kitchen she cleaned up the milkshake mess, putting the milk back in the fridge, the ice cream back in the freezer, the syrup back in the cabinet, and pausing just a moment before throwing out the empty pill bottle. She squeezed it one last time, reassuring herself that she’d done the right thing.

She was surprised at how quickly the pills had worked. She guessed that crushing them up in the blender had probably made them get to her bloodstream quicker. Things were getting blurry by the time she was heading back to the living room. She could feel her stomach wanting to eject the drug but she swallowed it back. It had to be done.

On hands and knees she made it back to the couch and crawled up beside Brian. She closed her eyes to go to sleep next to him. They were free. Free and clear.