Chapter 25
Theo’s question triggered a transformative silence, a short span during which Ellen’s face relaxed and softened.
Her shoulders and chest, previously slumped and tired, straightened.
Her neck likewise lost its weary curvature and held her head aloft, able, it seemed, at least for a while, to bear the weight of her burdened mind.
That raising of her head aligned her jaw, restored her lower lip to its proper place, and gave her — blue hat and all — a certain nobility of bearing.
She closed her eyes, raised her face skyward, and took a long, slow breath.
Theo saw none of this; his gaze was fixed on the Fedder, where raindrops had begun to fall, dimpling the pool’s surface. He raised the large umbrella again, and Ellen edged close to his side. Their thighs met at the middle of the bench, and they sat safe beneath the dome of the parasol.
When she began to speak, it was with a voice that was soft, clear, and controlled.
She had a storyteller’s composure with no hint of affectation.
Theo was tempted to look her way, to ensure that no doppelg?nger had replaced the agitated homeless woman with whom he had been speaking only moments ago.
She patted her dress and began her story.
“The happiest day of my life was April twelfth, thirty years ago this year.
I was in Charleston, and it was raining.
Not badly but a steady drizzle. The rhododendrons and crocuses were in bloom, and the gardens had been prepared for Easter.
All through the old town and down near the Battery, there were peace lilies and narcissus.
Even though I was in a very dark place in my life, the city was beautiful and full of light.
“William and I were looking for a place to sleep that night since we didn’t have a home.
I was extremely tired, and my feet and back hurt, so I sat on a bench to rest. I was afraid I might get picked up for vagrancy or something, but I had to rest. I had already been to mental twice, but I couldn’t stay there anymore.
That’s why we were in Charleston. William — he was my boyfriend — took me just like I was and helped me get out of Columbia.
But we didn’t have any money or food or family or jobs, and we were just trying to survive.
“It was eleven o’clock at night. I know because I heard the bells from the church.
And then I heard a gunshot. I just knew that’s what it was, and I knew it was William.
He had gone to find us something to eat.
I ran to where the noise came from, and there were some people who were upset and crying, but I never did hear what they were saying because I saw William on the ground.
I fell onto him because it was still drizzling rain, and I didn’t want him to get wet, which makes no sense because I knew he had been killed.
Other people started to gather, and I was hysterical and went into labor. ”
Ellen paused but seemed neither anxious nor reluctant about the story she was telling. During the silence, Theo gazed into the Fedder and held the umbrella, fatherly, over their heads. He did very much wonder how, if at all, her account might circle around to the happiest day of her life.
“I honestly don’t know much about what happened next, but somehow I got taken to a hospital.
There were doctors and nurses all around.
I was in labor for a long time, but finally my little girl was born.
I saw her when they held her up for the first time, and I cried and I cried, mostly because I was happy to see her but also because of William. ”
Ellen was suddenly, but only momentarily, far, far away, in Charleston, on a drizzly night in April, looking at walls and surgical lights in a hospital maternity ward.
“They tested my blood and said it was dirty. But it wasn’t; it was only starving.
I was so afraid. And so tired. They took me to a room, and I slept a long time.
And then when I woke up, there was a policeman in the room.
He was a nice man. He could tell I was afraid and confused and that I didn’t know what was happening to me.
I think maybe he had a daughter, a teenager like me.
He told me to rest, and I told him I wanted to see my baby.
I wanted to hold her. When I said that, he looked so sad and just kept telling me to rest for now.
I could tell he knew something he wasn’t telling me.
I begged him to please call the doctor and the nurse, so I could hold my little girl.
I asked him why he was there, and I said some ugly things to him.
But he kept being nice to me and promised he was only there to help me.
I just wanted to see my little girl, to hold her.
Willa Francesca. That’s her name, Willa Francesca. ”
The rain continued to sprinkle up and down the Promenade. Pedestrians were hugging the storefronts along Broadway, seeking the protection of awnings and balconies. Theo and Ellen were safe, dry, and immovable in the sanctuary of the umbrella. She continued her story, undeterred by the rain.
“I found out that the hospital people had gone through my book bag and found some papers from the mental in Columbia. Stupid of me to leave them in my book bag. The goons from Columbia were coming for me, and the nice policeman had been assigned to watch me, so I couldn’t escape again.
“I begged and begged to see my daughter. The doctors mostly didn’t care.
Most of the nurses too. But the policeman cared.
And one nurse. There was something different about them.
I could tell they cared about me, and they knew I cared for my baby, even though I was only a messed-up kid myself.
My room didn‘t have any windows, so I never knew what time of day it was.
I tried not to fall back asleep even though they were giving me medicine to keep me calm and knock me out again.
“One time I did doze off, and when I woke up, the nurse and the policeman were in the room. They asked me to be real quiet. The nurse said, ‘Be real quiet so that you don’t wake up the baby,’ and she took my tiny little girl and laid her on my chest. That was the happiest day of my life.
My little child lay there and slept. Her head and her hand were right on my heart, and I thought it would break; I was so happy.
And I called her by her name. ‘Hello, Willa.’
“I don’t know how long I held her, but the nurse and the policeman seemed nervous.
They both told me what a beautiful baby girl she was.
The nurse finally said, ‘Let me take her, and let‘s be very gentle and quiet, so we don’t wake her up. I’ll bring her back later.
’ That’s what she told me, but I think the nurse lied so I wouldn’t get upset.
She knew what was going to happen. I kissed Willa on the cheek. That’s the last time I ever saw her.”
There was a long pause.
“I don’t know how long I was in the hospital, but when I left, the good nurse cried. She and the policeman gave me an Easter basket. This was one of the gifts in the basket.”
Ellen held out the necklace. A locket with floral etching in frosted gold dangled from the chain. She opened it carefully. A tiny lock of hair — blonde — was nestled in the bowl of the locket, like a sleeping fawn.
Neither she nor Theo uttered a word. They were silenced by the sacredness of the moment. Ellen finally whispered the child‘s name, Willa Francesca. Then she closed the locket, clasped the necklace back in place, and rested her hands in her lap.
“I ended up back at the mental. They took her from me. I don‘t know who or how. Kidnapping by bureaucracy. And once they declare somebody like me crazy or unfit, they close the book forever. Mr. Theo, you can‘t imagine what it’s like to know there’s a child in this world who you love more than life, a child you’ll never see or touch again.
You’ll never know how it hurts to be told you’re not mother enough to take care of your own child.
There’s a little girl out there somewhere, my little girl, and I haven’t touched her in thirty years. ”
Her soft voice grew even softer. “You will never know.”
More silence.
“I’m so sorry, Ellen, so sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Mr. Theo. It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe not. But maybe yes. Ellen, the older I get, the more convinced I am that every hurt the world has ever known is somehow the fault of every person who ever lived. Maybe not directly and never entirely, but somehow, I fear, we own all of the world’s hurts together.”
Ellen nodded slightly. Whether it meant agreement or mere politeness, Theo didn’t know.
Their eyes were fixed on the Fedder, the mixture of rainfall and fountain water dancing in a filigree of silver. Streetlights along Broadway had begun to glow faintly to compensate for the cloud cover. The rain finally stopped.
“Mr. Theo, that was the worst thing I ever had to live through. But it was the happiest day of my life.”
And then, without speaking, she stood, straightened her bicycle, put her portrait in a basket between the handlebars, and turned to leave. She looked back toward the bench.
“Mr. Theo, a little while ago, you said when you looked at my picture, I looked ‘motherly,’ right? Is that really what you saw?”
Theo nodded.
“Thank you, Mr. Theo.”
She wiped the rainwater from her cheek and rode away.