Symptoms of Life

I’d never gone to church, at least not in my living memory. My mother didn’t believe in it, she said that the church never did anything good for anyone that wasn’t a white man. She said she’d be damned if she stepped foot into one of those establishments ever again. In a funny twist of fate I suppose that she was damned, and that I wasn’t really putting my own foot through the door.

Dr. Todd was a God fearing man. I guess he was one of those people who thought that going to church for a couple of hours every week made up for all the other shitty things you’ve done. Like drive drunk, wreck someone’s life or have kids with two different women when you’re married.

We were all dressed up in our best Sunday clothes, gathered up in the basement and chatting over finger sized cheese and cucumber sandwiches. Older women and men sat quietly, raving over the weather, government and the daily business. Some kids played off to the side with some old toys, and Liesl and Griffin were off talking to friends.

I was sitting alone to the side, squinting through the harsh fluorescent lights at the sandwich. Mom would kill me if I ate it, she would for sure.

“Are you Florence Todd?” A young girl asked, she was maybe twelve years old. Her friends stood a few steps their eyes wide with wonder and a few giggles stuck to their tongues.

“Yes,” I sighed trying to pull a smile up to my face. The girls eyes twinkled and she held up a napkin and pen from behind her back.

“I’m Leslie, can you sign this? I follow you on instagram and twitter!”

“Of course, Leslie,” I replied taking the napkin from her and scribbling a quick message down. A grin lit her face as she scurried back to her parents, pulling on the backs of their clothes.

“Can you sign ours too?” Another girl asked and the five of them stepped forward, plopping the napkins down on the table in front of us.

I signed them all nearly wordlessly, doing my best to ignore Liesl that was now looming over my shoulder. “See,” she’d say, “you’re famous!”

I knew that though, and that was part of the problem. I didn’t want anyone looking at me. I didn’t want anyone to see me. They’d see me as less than I was and as nothing as I am now. I was nothing more then a sack of organs, skins and barely there bones.

“Dr. Todd, is this your daughter?” A woman asked, her voice coloured in shock as she eyed me expectantly. A small smile streaked across her face as recognition simmered into her veins, “how have we not met her before?” She added half-hazardously.

Dr. Todd turned from his conversation glancing quickly, between the woman child and I. I’d never seen the man sweat, he always looked at ease, and he had a way of making the other person look like they were in the wrong. Yet, sitting in his secondary habitat of the church, he looked more nervous then ever. “Yes,” he began, “Florence is my daughter from my first marriage.”

“But she’s so young!” The woman exclaimed looking me over from head to toe. A conclusion passed through her eyes and the rest of the crowd simultaneously, and the doctor shifted uncomfortably before turning his back to us and resuming his conversation.

“Well,” the woman sighed, slightly flustered, “are you training in Vancouver?” She smiled, and her daughter Leslie ducked under her arm.

I couldn’t answer for a moment, they looked so enthusiastic so excited to be talking to me about diving, and the conversation would crash and burn the moment I said it, “No,” I began, thinking my words through slowly, “I’ve decided to pursue a more academic career.”

“Oh,” the woman sighed, her smile wavering slightly, “Leslie wants to be an Olympic Gymnast! She’s already nationally ranked!”

Leslie nodded enthusiastically, her eyes washing over with determination, “you should be a model then, you’re so pretty!” She grinned, “Is your boyfriend here? He’s super hot too.” Liesl jumped in almost instantaneously.

I could feel Dr. Todd’s gaze drilling into my back as he took in the conversation. Until then I’d never realized how much of an embarrassment I was to Dr. Todd. He’d made huge changes in his life to take me in, but I was his plaque of mistakes shinning brightly wherever he took me. People knew me, they knew approximately how old I was, and they knew my last name. That was enough to ruin his reputation. I was more then crippled, I was crippling him.

If he’d been given another option I’m sure I’d be there.

“We’d best be going,” Dr. Todd sighed, placing a hand on both mine and Liesl’s. His lips were taught with a smile, and I could see the tension in his eyes. He was uncomfortable he wanted to leave, and I did too.

“It was nice meeting you,” I replied letting Leslie and her mother give me a quick hug. They promised me that I was welcome to come use their pool in the summer, since that was the one thing Dr. Todd didn’t own. I’m sure she knew I wouldn’t go when she said it, just for different reasons then my own.

I’d never had a pool, or a house really. After Dr. Todd left us Mom only held onto the house for a few years. After I turned eleven training got real, she worked less and we couldn’t afford everything. We’d relocated to a condominium in the city, it was a cheap place and she made it home with all of her crafts. It didn’t matter much though, I was in the pool all day everyday, and when I came home I didn’t need it. The only things I’d needed was her, the shower and a bed.

The family regrouped in the car. Liesl, and I occupied the center bucket seats of the SUV and Griffin was stretched lazily across the backbench.

“Your social worker texted me,” Dr. Todd noted, pulling out of the churches parking lot and onto the main road, “she’ll be at the house with your dog soon.”

“Dog?” Liesl frowned, her nose wrinkling up with distaste, “You have a dog?” She asked, staring at me like I was a crazy person “Is it like a little cute terrier or something?”

I couldn’t answer, I didn’t know what kind of dog it was, I’d just remembered being told I was getting one.

“No Liesl, it’s a Service Animal,” her mother smiled at me, “for emotional support.”

“Hopefully it’s not too hairy,” Dr. Todd sighed, taking a wide right turn, “he’s staying in his cage and not going on the furniture.”

I had to force myself not to roll my eyes; I’d never asked for the dog, the psychiatrist had just decided it was necessary. He felt that I could bond with the animal and use it for emotional support.

I’d argued with the Doctor, I wasn’t going to bring an animal out with me or to school, I didn’t need to bring that kind of attention towards myself. He hadn’t mentioned it nor had Doctor Todd and I’d figured that the idea had been dropped.

“How is a dog supposed to be supportive,” Leisl groaned, sniffing slightly, “we’re your family. We’re your support,” she smiled, glancing at me sideways with a strong nod.

“Thanks,” I muttered staring down at my hands and fidgeting my thumbs against my palms.

“Have you ever had a pet before?” Griffin asked, suddenly piping up from the back of the car.

“No,” I shrugged, closing my eyes and ignoring the car as it exited from the highway, “we weren’t allowed pets in our apartment.”

No one commented after that, and the car lurched forward down the street leaving my stomach and thoughts far behind. By the time we got back from church it was mid-afternoon, and the social workers sedan was sitting happily in front of the house.

She was standing on the lawn though, plastic bag in hand as she picked up the dog.

“Ew,” Liesl muttered getting out of the car and entering the house as quickly as possible. Dr. Todd and his wife stepped out though walking over to greet the social worker.

I got out of the car slowly, I was usually unsteady after the car ride. They made me light-headed and nervous, it was like a bit of shock that I’d never be able to get out of my system.

The dog sat quietly on the lawn, he wore a purple jacket and stared animatedly in my direction with his tongue hanging out.

“He’s a pup,” Dr. Todd frowned, “and I thought we’d agreed on something short haired?” The dog in question barked, panting a little, but stood still and attentively. He had a chocolate brown coat, and was likely mixed lab with spots of white on his nose, toes and chest.

“He’s six months old,” The social worker, Ms. Cain agreed and walked the dog towards me, “Florence,” she smiled, pushing the leash in my direction, “this is Nimbus and he is excited to meet you!”

Nimbus didn’t bark or move much, he just sat attentively, and continued to pant with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. “Now, let’s go get him settled in side and I can lay out a few ground rules, although Anglina spent the last week learning his training!” Ms. Cain exclaimed before thrusting Nimbus’s leash into my hand, grabbing a few things out of the car and following everyone else into the house.

If dogs could smile, I’d say Nimbus was, he looked downright goofy as I made my way up the icy front walk and he pranced along merrily in the nearby snow bank.

“He’s wet,” David frowned when Nimbus and I had finally reached the door, “and the cage should go in Florence’s room.”

“Very well,” Ms. Cain sighed, following me down the hall to my room. It wasn’t far, just the first door on the right, to avoid walking I guess, “so Nimbus should stay in his cage if he’s not out with you or you’re out with him, and if you need to take him somewhere he needs his ID jacket,” she began before wailing off into a fit of instructions.

Nimbus looked far more attentive then I did throughout the entire ordeal.

I wanted to tell her that I didn’t need the dog, that there was no way in hell I’d be seen in public with a guide animal, but looking at Nimbus those words seemed light-years away.

He looked goofy, with a white splotch on his face, and his tongue hanging out, but he looked around the room excitedly when he felt no one was looking. But he also kind of looked like a friend.