Stevan Mena - Transience

“…Hello,” Rebecca said, breaking her silence.

“Who is this? Why are you calling me like this? Habla!”

“…Momma?” Rebecca whispered into the phone. Hester went silent.

“Rebecca?” Laura’s voice spun Rebecca around, she immediately hung up like a young child caught looking at dirty pictures, slamming the pages closed. But she missed the base. Laura stood at the entrance to the kitchen in the darkness, bleary eyed, her robe open.

Laura approached and grabbed the receiver from her hand. “Who are you talking to?”

Laura lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello? Who is this?” Laura could hear sobbing, and then a click. “Hello? Hello?” Laura hung it up. Rebecca looked away, unable to make eye contact.

“Who was that?” Laura turned Rebecca around, lifting her chin. “Rebecca, who was that? Who were you calling this late?”

Rebecca just stared. Laura saw her old phone book and the photograph sitting on the counter. She grabbed Rebecca’s shoulders. “Rebecca, who was that on the phone? Who were you calling? Answer me!” Rebecca jerked away and took a few unbalanced steps backwards, confused, frightened. Her mother knew exactly who she was calling.

Rebecca’s eyes went dark, cold. Immediately fear gripped Laura tightly, not wanting to endure another episode like the one by the river. She backed off, softening her tone.

“Sweetie, talk to me.”

“I have to go,” Rebecca said. Laura reached for her, but she pulled away, taking a few more steps, but not really going anywhere.

“Baby, what are you talking about?”

“They must be so worried,” Rebecca whispered. Laura crept towards Rebecca slowly, the way someone tries to approach an animal without spooking it. “Who? Who’s worried, sweetie?” Rebecca just stood there, an epiphany was washing over her, pieces of a puzzle locking into place.

She turned away from Laura and grabbed her head, a tremendous pain suddenly swelled inside. It was the realization of truth, the anguish of being lost, of death, and then of being found, reconnection, longing and fulfillment — all of these emotions swirling inside her, slamming her fragile mind. Emotions without the clarity or perspective of where they emanated from. Emotions without the memories attached, just loose ends that felt real, that needed tying.

And the solution — the answers, lie out there . It couldn’t be solved with a mother-daughter talk, not anymore, now that the bond of trust had been broken. A good night’s sleep wouldn’t solve the riddle, neither would ignoring the feelings, hoping they would go away. They were here to stay, at least until an explanation that included some type of closure could put them to rest.

A light was turned on, Rebecca had stepped forth from the shadows of doubt and uncertainty — into reality. And that was the only prescription she needed. A large dose of reality.

Laura watched in agonizing horror as Rebecca imploded before her eyes. It wasn’t loud, or physical, it was an awakening. Powered by a force stronger than her, welling up and taking over. Her mind was downloading and processing information previously inaccessible, repressed and submerged, now bubbling to the surface. Rebecca was seeing the world for the first time as it actually was. And her place in it.

Laura wept at the sight, terrified for her, of the consequences. She cried, teeth bared, a contorted grimace of sorrow, helpless. “Becca, please…”

“Get away from me!” Rebecca cried out as she sidestepped Laura’s attempt at embrace. It no longer offered comfort, only confinement. Rebecca’s evasion provoked Laura and, in her exhausted state, sent her into a rage.

“Don’t talk to me like that, I’m your mother! Now who the hell were you calling in the middle of the night?”

“You’re not my mother,” Rebecca said, straight as an arrow into Laura’s heart. Laura dropped to her knees and grabbed Rebecca so tight, she’d have to leave her limbs behind to break free of Laura’s grasp.

“You listen to me, you’re not going anywhere but back to bed. And we’re gonna see this thing through. You and me!”

“Why did you lie to me?”

“What did you want me to do? Tell you yes, your nightmares are real?”

Laura held Rebecca till both of their eyes were overflowing with tears. Rebecca’s emotions were a combination of fear and confusion; fear of the truth that awaited her, of seeing her mother as a stranger, of feeling lost — alone, and the confusion of the sudden rush of feelings for another family, emotions of painful loss — and reunion.

Rebecca stopped trying to wriggle away, giving in. She blew saliva bubbles as she cried. Laura drew a deep breath, calming herself.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know how hard this has all been for you; moving here, Daddy leaving, school, everything. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.” Laura pulled Rebecca to her breast, hugged her deeply, as if trying to draw her into her own body, shield her from the cruel world. “It’s gonna be okay. You hear me? We’re gonna get through this.”

“We?” Rebecca said, her voice full of disillusion. Rebecca broke free of her embrace, leaving Laura on her knees. Rebecca moved towards the front door. Laura watched incredulously as Rebecca reached for her jacket. She turned the doorknob, opening it to depart into the cold night, come what may.

Laura saw red and leaped to her feet. Now it was a battle of wills. She stormed over and slammed the door shut so hard it shook the foundation of the rickety old house. “Stop it!” Laura shouted. The shock caused Rebecca to abruptly reverse course and head back towards the kitchen.

Rebecca reached for the phone again and began to dial. Laura chased after her, tearing the phone from her hands. “Enough!” Laura tossed the phone across the room.

Rebecca back peddled, turned, and fainted flat out onto the kitchen floor. Laura watched it happen in slow motion. She tried to lunge her arms out to catch her in time, but wasn’t fast enough. She crumpled down beside Rebecca, whose face was pale and moist.

She cradled her small head. “Rebecca? Rebecca, please speak, open your eyes.”

Laura could see Rebecca’s eyes swim back and forth beneath her thin, swollen eyelids. Slowly they fluttered and her eyes opened. Rebecca looked at her mother, this time with familiarity, as if waking from a terrible nightmare.

“My head hurts,” Rebecca said softly.

Laura looked into her eyes and saw her little girl again. Her daughter was back, her spirit home from whatever dark place it had just journeyed. The universe had heard her cries and agreed to return Rebecca’s soul to its rightful owner. Tears drained from Laura’s very being and she let them release.

“Oh God,” Laura said, her voice raspy, hollow. “Please…give me the strength.” She hugged Rebecca tightly.

Upon hearing those words, Rebecca realized there was only one person that could help her; herself. She stared up at the ceiling, plotting her next move.

The obstetrician glided the ultrasound across Patricia’s petroleum slicked belly. At 34 weeks, the baby’s features were clearly visible. Patricia looked at the monitor and swore her baby was waving back at her. “You see that, Bobby?”

“I see it,” Robert said, squeezing his wife’s hand, relishing a moment they had waited so long to enjoy. All the years of disappointment, the miscarriages, the hoping. There was no stopping this miracle. Just a few more weeks.

Martha, their obstetrician — who wore three pairs of glasses draped around her neck; one for reading, one for seeing, and one pair that darkened in sunlight — slid the sensor to the other side of Patricia’s abdomen, who winced from the cold tickle.