Second Chance
Rosario
I am on the outside, looking in. Watching as a little boy runs to his closet, searching for a safe place to hide.
My heart aches along with the boy's as I recognize him as myself. I hold my breath hoping that he'll make it, that the closet will swallow him up, keep him safe. Even though I already know how this will play out.
A man stomps behind him with unsure steps. His mind is else where, but he knows his target. He is a drunken snake, preying after an innocent mouse.
Along his arms are bruises, needle marks, scars from years of heroin injections.
He disappears into the room behind the boy.
"No, dad, please," I hear the child scream.
His cries, his pleas, his desperation permeates through the air as his father hits him, again and again. His mother sits on the tattered living room couch, ignoring the commotion. Just as she always has.
__________________________________________________
I sit up on the couch where I seem to have fallen asleep.
Ellen is standing above me.
"You were talking," she tells me, "In your sleep."
I don't bother to ask her what I was saying.
"I don't really get this, Vance. I, I need answers. I need you to tell me what's going on. Why are you-- How are you... Here?"
"I don't know, Ellen." And I don't. I have no idea how to provide her with the answers she wants.
"You're... You're dead. The accident. They told me you were dead. We buried you." Her eyes begin to well.
Amelia's cry rings from down the hall.
I get up to go get her, just as Ellen rises.
She lets me go.
"Accident?" I ask her, returning with Amelia on my hip.
"You... You don't remember?"
"I remember seeing you, in the hospital. You were hurt. Then I saw you again, in your bedroom. And then again, just before you went into labor. Next thing I knew, I was outside of the hospital. I have-- Had no idea who you were throughout all of this, Ellen. I just know that I'm supposed to be here, with you. I'm supposed to take care of you. Of Amelia. I don't know anything more than that. I couldn't even tell you my last name."
It takes her a minute to take all of this in.
"We were driving home from my banquet. You were mad. We were arguing. It was raining. A truck hit us. Drunk driver."
I can't imagine being upset with her. I can't imagine ever feeling anything negative toward her.
I ask her why we were arguing.
She is silent.
"Your last name," she says finally, "Was Rosario."
I note her use of the past tense.
My heart aches along with the boy's as I recognize him as myself. I hold my breath hoping that he'll make it, that the closet will swallow him up, keep him safe. Even though I already know how this will play out.
A man stomps behind him with unsure steps. His mind is else where, but he knows his target. He is a drunken snake, preying after an innocent mouse.
Along his arms are bruises, needle marks, scars from years of heroin injections.
He disappears into the room behind the boy.
"No, dad, please," I hear the child scream.
His cries, his pleas, his desperation permeates through the air as his father hits him, again and again. His mother sits on the tattered living room couch, ignoring the commotion. Just as she always has.
__________________________________________________
I sit up on the couch where I seem to have fallen asleep.
Ellen is standing above me.
"You were talking," she tells me, "In your sleep."
I don't bother to ask her what I was saying.
"I don't really get this, Vance. I, I need answers. I need you to tell me what's going on. Why are you-- How are you... Here?"
"I don't know, Ellen." And I don't. I have no idea how to provide her with the answers she wants.
"You're... You're dead. The accident. They told me you were dead. We buried you." Her eyes begin to well.
Amelia's cry rings from down the hall.
I get up to go get her, just as Ellen rises.
She lets me go.
"Accident?" I ask her, returning with Amelia on my hip.
"You... You don't remember?"
"I remember seeing you, in the hospital. You were hurt. Then I saw you again, in your bedroom. And then again, just before you went into labor. Next thing I knew, I was outside of the hospital. I have-- Had no idea who you were throughout all of this, Ellen. I just know that I'm supposed to be here, with you. I'm supposed to take care of you. Of Amelia. I don't know anything more than that. I couldn't even tell you my last name."
It takes her a minute to take all of this in.
"We were driving home from my banquet. You were mad. We were arguing. It was raining. A truck hit us. Drunk driver."
I can't imagine being upset with her. I can't imagine ever feeling anything negative toward her.
I ask her why we were arguing.
She is silent.
"Your last name," she says finally, "Was Rosario."
I note her use of the past tense.