Chapter 23:A Friend

i was facing her, sitting close enough that I could hold her hand if she wanted. She reached to

the side table for the packet of cigarettes prominent and easily accessible to her reach.

―What do you think you're doing, Ma?‖ I took the packet from her. ―Here you are with

emphysema, breast cancer, pure oxygen feeding through those tubes, and you want a

smoke? You could go up like a roman candle lighting up next to that oxygen. You've

been warned about that before.‖

―For goodness sakes, Amelia, I take the tubes out. Besides, another cigarette isn't going

to make any difference. I've been a smoker all my life, and I'm not going to change that

now.‖

―No, Ma, not with the children around. I don't want them getting second hand smoke or

me for that matter. You can have one later. Now, tell me about Adam.‖

Ma pouted, folded her arms in front of her chest and glared at me. I just sat there looking

back at her, remembering how beautiful she had once looked. A tough life had taken its

toll. She had been diagnosed 14 years ago with breast cancer, but nothing ever happened.

We were all beginning to wonder if she really did have that horrible woman cancer thing.

The doctors confirmed it; ―slow growing‖ they said, ―inoperable.‖ So, here she was with

breast cancer, emphysema, neuropathy, something wrong with her hands, a shell of her

former self where once she was beautiful, a beautiful woman, bright and smart and now

looking like she's 99 years-old and not the 68 years her recent birthday celebration

revealed.

She finally let her arms down and sighed. ―There is a bench warrant out for his arrest.

The police have been here. That's why he keeps moving around.‖

―The Police!‖ This was a new one on me. ―Why do they want him?‖

―He was summoned to appear in the Kent Family Court in Maine. He didn't show up. All

of the children have been court ordered into the custody of the Maine Department for

Children and Families.‖

―What?‖

―Oh, that's not the end of it. Apparently, he's also in trouble in places along the Eastern

Seaboard with the Children and Families court.‖

―My God, he's on the run from the law? But, the children, what in God's name has he

done to them?‖

Of course, at the time I was yet to read the story in the court documents I now have in my

trust. Ma did her best to find excuses for her boy.

―Adam really hasn't had a lot of luck with his career. And with seven children, Susan has

to be at home to look after them. You are lucky to have a husband with a very good

income. You can afford to stay at home.‖

―Luck has nothing to do with it, Ma. I worked hard to get into a position where I could

take care of myself. Now, I have my own children, and because Jack and I saved before

Abbey came along we can afford for me to stay home. Adam could have done the same

thing. He was bright enough, but too lazy to make the effort it takes to be successful. He still thinks everything should be given to him. God knows how much help he's had from

us. It might do him some good to spend time in jail. But, the children...?‖

―You're right, Amelia, you have made a good life for yourself. I don't know why I failed

with the others? They...‖

Her voice trailed off into an inaudible whisper. She was watching me, wary, pushing on

the oxygen tubes feeding wretchedly into her nose, her face a mix of deep sadness and a

defiant righteousness. Ah, the burden of conscience; few of us can resist forever the

worsening affect of its periodic torture. I can only guess at how Ma's youthful

transgression and its affect on the three brothers, Bill, Steve and Alton, weighed on her

mind. Bill, my father, and Uncle Alton, who both lived in Florida, passed on five years

ago, just six months apart, of lung cancer. My father was just 67, and it was sad he didn't

get to know my baby. Uncle Steve left Ma 20 years ago for another woman. I think it was

at that point she lost it.

I have absolutely nothing to do with Uncle Steve after that. His new wife didn't want

anything to do with any of us and Uncle Steve was so weak he went along with her plans.

It was a shame because he mostly raised me, and I loved him very much then. But, he

was so weak that he let Peggie get away with throwing his family away. I get angry

thinking about it, the weakling.

So, here was Ma alone, in pain, unhappy and for a woman who felt she was nothing

without a man, she had to be living in her own creation of a purgatory here on earth.

Well, she had us, her children in her life. Although, I have to think that we have been an

enormously heavy burden for her to deal with. And no wonder. There was Adam, of

course, the biggest pain in the butt to her and the rest of us.

And Margaret, 51-years old as I write, my oldest sister with nine children, who has been

in trouble with Social Services since her first child was a year old. The youngest one is

now seven, so Margaret will probably be involved with Social Services for years to come,

until her youngest turns 18.

Margaret had a really tough time from the beginning. The father of two of her children

was murdered. That was very sad time for everyone and especially for her. It was a drug

bust that went terribly wrong. A case of mistaken identity; the father had a brother, an

identical twin who was doing the drug thing, and the police thought he was the bad guy –

accidental, yeah.

She had more children, but the relationships with the fathers didn't stick. Then she met

Tom, a really nice guy from a very wealthy family. It seemed that they were doing well

when all of a sudden we lost contact. I tried calling her and leaving messages, but there

was never a response. Eventually, when in the area on business, Jack went to the last

address we had for her in PA. He called me from the house.

―You are not going to believe this, Amelia. I'm at Margaret and Tom's house, and it has

been remodeled and renovated. The realtor told me that they were foreclosed on four

years ago, but it took the new owner two years to get them out. They were living in such

squalor that the new owners had to gut the house because the interior was in an absolutely

foul and putrid mess, completely unlivable. God knows how anyone could live like that. I

can't imagine what happened.‖ So, for four years Margaret kept her circumstances secret. She didn't let me know me that

she had been foreclosed on. Tom was supposed to be from a wealthy family. We could

only wonder.

―God, sometimes I'm so thick, Jack. I kept asking myself why anyone wasn't answering

the phone. I hope they're okay.‖

―With your family, you have to be ready for anything, Honey,‖ said Jack. ―Expect the

worst and there'll be no surprises.‖

It was at our step-mother's funeral when I eventually caught up with Margaret. As I

mentioned earlier, my father Bill married Nancy when I was four, after he had divorced

Ma. Billy and Shari were there. It was a sad, sad occasion. They had now lost both their

parents.

Margaret was not looking good. She was overweight and looked older than her 51 years.

Her hair ran all the way down her back and had turned a salt and pepper grey. Her spleen

had been removed a few years earlier, and it was obvious that she had other serious

health problems.

―What on earth happened to you, Margaret? I have tried to call you, but...‖

―I don't want to talk about it, Amelia. We are living in Pennsylvania now, and I can't

legally discuss anything.‖

That was it. She had nothing more to say. I was distressed to see my sister in such bad

shape, but there was little I could do.

―Amelia,‖ Ma's raspy voice sounded a little agitated. She had pulled the tubes from her

nose. ―Amelia, pass me a cigarette and don't argue with me. I need one.‖

I couldn't be bothered arguing. She looked so wretched. I lit one and put it to her lips.

She inhaled and when the smoke hit her lungs, she went into a coughing fit.

―Water!‖ she cried as she managed to keep the cigarette to her lips despite the coughing. I

passed her the glass of water. A few seconds passed, the coughing stopped, and she

resumed smoking. ―Have you spoken to Michele?‖ she said her voice a raspy whisper.

My sister Michele lived in Sacramento and kept pretty much to herself so far as the

family was concerned. She didn't have any children of her own. She hated Adam and for

the last 20 years had no contact with him.

―Not in a long time.‖

―I worry about her too, I've called her a million times and she never answers. I would

love her to have a relationship with Jack and me and Abbey and Lucas.

―Last I spoke with her, she was with someone so at least she's not lonely‖

Ma stubbed her cigarette into the ashtray filled with the butts I always found disgusting.

The color of her face was almost as gray as the ash of her cigarette. Her breathing was

becoming more shallow and raspy. She was fumbling about the blanket spread over her

legs, trying to find the oxygen tubes. I reached over, recovered them from where they had

fallen to the side of the chair and placed them in her nose. The oxygen helped and a little

her feistiness returned.What do you mean a partner?‖

―A friend, someone she cares about.‖

Actually, they had been together for a long time, but I didn't want to go there with Ma. I

was afraid the next question would be about Tina, but she gave me a hard look, closed

her eyes and seemed to settle into the chair. The nicotine was having an effect.

Tina was the youngest, my beautiful nurse sister who I absolutely loved, the gritty

mother, fiercely independent, who moved to Scranton, RI to give her children Andrew,

Linda and Casey, a chance in life by getting them the good education she knew she could

not afford as a single mother if she stayed in Massachusetts. Nevertheless, Tina's

struggles in her early relationships with men and then later with other problems gradually

wore her down, was another worry for Ma. In fact, she and Ma had been estranged for 12

years. But Tina remained very strong.

With me, it was my relationship with Adam that upset Ma most. I think she thought of

me as the smartest of her children, and it was hard for her to accept that I could be so

merciless in my criticism of her only son despite my attempts to help him.

With all the aforementioned going on throughout Ma's life, it was no wonder that she

looked as she did then. But, I have to say she had a certain inner strength that I admired,

and I loved her so much. She made sure we were well fed and clothed as children. She

had to be extremely strong to survive. Indeed, it would be her strength that would sustain

her for a few more difficult years of serious health problems before she would to

succumb to life's inevitable summons.

• • •

It was night, and it was hot. I was still in Massachusetts, visiting Ma each day and

sometimes at night. That meant occasionally I would run into Adam. It wasn't so bad,

actually. He was being mostly cordial. I was sitting out on the porch looking out over a

park across the road. My eyes were suddenly attracted to the flare ups of tiny balls of

light zipping around a few bushes in the distance. I was delighted that the fireflies were

out. There they were blinking away, some of them flashing green light while others were

burning with a fiery orange-yellow before they faded into the dark.

―They remind me of life, a brief blaze and then darkness,‖ I said. I loved catching

fireflies when I was little, as did my siblings and cousins.

―Aren't you the philosophical one tonight?‖ Adam said as he sat in the chair next to me.

―Perhaps. Ma told me that the police in Maine have a warrant out for your arrest. What

on earth has been going on with you?‖

Oh darn, talk about opening up the door. I knew instinctively I would live to regret the

question, and I did. I guess part of it was the psychologist in me, but I was truly

concerned for my nieces and nephews, too.

―She had no business telling you that.‖

―Really! You cause her more worry than the rest of us put together, Adam.‖ He sat there,

not saying a word. I could feel his energy, though. He was biting his tongue, I'm sure.

Adam did not like to be challenged or criticized. He wanted something; money probably.