Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 48 (language)

Blair woke to find Todd missing.  He was up, dressing and his hair was wet from the shower.  She turned on her side, and said, "Hi."


He said, "Hi, Blair."


She stretched.  "What are you doing?"


"Going back to see my mother."


"All right."  She pulled the covers off.  "Let me come with you."


He sat on the bed next to her, and brushed her hair off her face.  "You sure?  You might not like where I'm going with it."


"It doesn't matter what I like, it's your life, and your mother.  I just want to be there for you.  I told you yesterday, it's you and me against the world, remember?  Like before.  You couldn't have forgotten that.  You said you remembered every little bit."


He pulled a small item from his pocket, and turned it toward her.  She looked at it, and a small jump came in her stomach.  She said, "It's a picture of Mitch, a few years back.  Are you sure this is what you want to do, Todd?"


"I'm sure.  And I'm asking you to help me, Blair."


She was not in favor of what he wanted to do, in fact, she was concerned what it would mean for Bitsy, but she had promised to support him.  "I will help you.  But I have to tell you what I think.  If you listen, and you still see it your way, then it's your decision."


"All right.  What, then?"


"It might break her, Todd.  How do you know what looking at that photo might do to her?"


He looked at it, between his thumb and forefinger.  "You're right.  I didn't think of that."


"Put it in your pocket, and bring it along and if she seems up to it . . ."


"No, you're right.  I can't do that to her, not now.  But, I have to know, Blair."


She did not want to understand his reasons, but she knew what they were.  "I see that.  But we can pretty much assume it's Mitch.  Honestly."


"'Pretty much assume' doesn't get anyone anywhere."


"Then bring it.  Just, please, be careful, Todd."  She took his chin in her hands, "She's not well."


He placed it on the nightstand, and took her in his arms.  "Last night.  I. . .needed you."


"I know, and I was glad to oblige."


"Get ready, come on.  I want to go and see her."


"Are we coptering?" she said.


"Yeah, I guess we will.  It's easier than dealing with the snowy roads."


"All right, I'll bundle up."


Later, when the copter took off with them inside it, the photo of Mitch remained on the nightstand.


***


Dr. Levin, having been briefed on the recent events, and having read the writings of Bea presented to him the previous day by Sister Rebecca Katherine, handed the pages back to her, and said, "Sister, this woman is very ill.  Mentally and physically challenged.  You've done a great deal of work gaining her trust."


"Doctor, I am certain her estranged son will be back today to see her.  Do ya feel it's all right?"


"As long as you are there to read the signals, it should be fine.  He can't really do any more damage to her psyche than has been done.  She may appreciate the chance to see him.  It may lead to her own healing, as well.  From what I can see, however, the brain damage is extensive and may go beyond the speech center."


"The delusions?"


"Possibly.  Her loss of time, her memory loss.  These things as well.  The delusions could have been drug-induced schizophrenia.  I'd wonder if your Todd saw any signs of schizoid behavior in his mother before all this took place?"


"Not that I've ever heard, no."


"Well, be there for the visiting time.  Watch for her signs.  You know them by now.  I'll have an orderly nearby and a nurse with a sedative, just in case."


"Thank ya, Doctor."


"And Sister?  I apologize for coming down on you so hard the last time we spoke of this."


"It's all right, Doctor Levin, I simply wanted to help her."


The nun left his office and proceeded directly to Bea's favorite place, the solarium, where she sat, drawing.  She smiled upon seeing the nun.  She was drawing a picture of Blair.  It was beautifully done, and the coloring was perfect.  And, Blair had a baby in her arms.  The nun said, "Oh what a grand piece of art this is."


She smiled, and wrote on another sheet, and slid it to the nun.  They will be back.  I know.  I want to give this to him.


"Oh, yes, I am sure he will love it."


She wrote, Tell me about him.  Please, Sister.


"I should let him tell you himself."


She shook her head "no," and wrote, Is he happy?  Has he gotten over the things that he saw, the things The One Who Hurt Us did, when he was a child?  Does he see sparrows, does he hear voices?


She is asking me if he is mentally ill, like she is.  "No.  He doesn't hear things or see things."  Not anymore, at least.  I think.


The nun handed her back her letters.  "You may need these.  If you want to answer his questions, you can let him read them."


She wrote quickly, and handed it to the sister.  It said, What if The Evil One comes to get me? Or what if The Evil One gets Todd or hurts him or Blair or their babies?


"You mustn't worry about that.  They are safe."


The woman went through her drawings and revealed one of a man, strikingly handsome, with the same eyes that she remembered from the church drawing.  "Dear, is this The Evil One?"


She nodded.  Her face, unlike other times, was filled with fear.  The fear faded and was replaced with joy, as Bea, over Sister Rebecca's shoulder, caught glimpse of Todd and Blair walking toward them.


The nun turned the drawing over and placed it among the others in the woman's pile of art.  Todd walked slowly toward them, and said, "Momma.  Good morning."


Blair sat beside him, and Bea turned her smile toward her.  Blair said, "Good morning, Bitsy."


The woman reached across for Blair's hand, and Blair took it, holding it.


Todd said, "Momma, I need to know . . . "


She nodded an interruption, and let go of Blair's hand.  She went through her papers, and handed him her writings.  He said, "Thank you."


She smiled.  She dug through her drawings and handed Blair the picture of her with the baby.


Blair said, "Oh, it's so beautiful," her eyes tearing.


Bea took another sheet of paper.  She wrote rapidly, and handed it to Todd.  He read it aloud.  "I had a dream that the sparrows came and lifted me up.  I wanted to go, so badly with them.  But I was too heavy and they were not strong enough with their little wings.  I had this dream right before you came in, while I was here.  I think they were in the room here, with me, and then flew away."


Blair almost broke with pity, and Todd handed her the note, and said, "Momma, you don't have to go with them.  You should stay here, with us."


She wrote again, and he read, "I don't want to stay here.  Too much hurting."


He said, "No one is going to hurt you anymore.  I'll never let them.  I'm . . . strong now."


She reached for the paper, and ripping it from his hand, she wrote, furiously.  Every one wants to hurt everyone.  People don't care for people.  All of the men, they want to hurt you with their body and their hands.  That is not good.  He can come back, and get me.  I wonder if he will, and if the sparrows come first, and if there is enough of them, they can lift me away.  He will come back and get me, The One Who Hurt Us.  He will never leave me alone.


He handed the paper to Blair to read, and reached for Bea's hand, but she pulled it away, and began rocking.  Sister Rebecca Katherine said, "Todd, she can't do more."


"Momma, please, don't go,"  Todd said, losing his composure.


Blair quietly took his hand under the table to steady him.  She whispered, "Todd.  She can't."


Bea slowly raised her face to them, and without expression, continued rocking, before pushing all of her drawings toward him, wildly, and taking out her pencils, one at a time, snapping their heads against the table.  He softly called to her, "Momma," but she was gone, into her own place.  After each penciltip was broken, the orderly stepped forward, as Bea fell into utter despair.  Her mouth was open in a silent cry, as she rocked, fast and violent.  The nurse, coming to her left, stabbed the needle into her arm.  She, fell against the orderly, almost immediately, and he escorted her, limp and deflated, out of the solarium.  Todd's eyes were glued to her as she went.  Sister Rebecca Katherine, visibly upset, touched Todd's face, and then followed them out of the room.


Todd looked back to the table, with the remnants of her pencils in shambles, and her drawings and papers strewn all over the floor around him.  He covered his face with his hands for a moment, and then dragged them down over his cheeks.  He said, "She's . . . so sick, Babe." 


Blair, who had one hand on his shoulder, got up, and began to gather the drawings and writings into a stack.  He put his hand over her hand, and held it a moment, and she placed the pictures down on the table, neatly, sitting back down.  She again rested her chin on his shoulder.  She said, "My love, I'm so sorry."


He began to finger through the drawings.  Jack, not quite right, looking more like Todd than himself.  The lake, with him by the bank.  Her writings, pages of her neat scrawl.  The church with the ominous face in the clouds, and the snow with the little figure in red.  Then, he saw it.  Staring at him in pencil, still a rough sketch, was the face of Mitch Laurence.


He looked at Blair, who said, "Oh my God."


He took the picture, and holding it tightly in his hand, he said, "Okay.  What do we do, Blair?"


"Simple," she said.  "We find a way to get the fucker."   

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