The Long Road Revisited
by Terry

Chapter 4

Alexis sat quietly with one arm lying across Johnny while gently threading her fingers comfortingly through his hair as his head rested in her lap. She was allowing Johnny time to come to terms with his grief over a letter clearly proving that not only was Johnny abandoned my his mother, but the woman who took him in, raised him and loved him without condition was also abandoned by her daughter. In grieving for himself he also grieved for his Nana Rose.

Moments passed as Johnny let every word of his Nana’s letter find its place in his heart and the more he meditated the angrier he became. Gently shaking off Alexis who still held onto him, Johnny rose from the couch and walked from one end of the room to the other. He felt as if his insides were going to explode from the anger that was consuming him.

“How dare she? How dare she take Nana’s love and devotion and stomp all over it?”

He stopped in front of Alexis who remained seated on the couch raising the letter in his hand and thrusting it toward her, his eyes filled with the irate passion of loyalty betrayed… of a mother’s love thrown aside as refuse… his heart burned with unreleased emotion.

“Did you read this? Is that what you said? You read it?”

“Yes Johnny. I read it.”

“How can a child hate so much? How could that woman hate Nana as much as she did? Can you explain that to me? I lived with Nana for years and I never once saw her do anything just for herself. I never once heard her judge anyone for the mistakes they made. There wasn’t an unkind bone in her body. What kind of monster would turn on her own mother like that?”

His voice rose with every word proving the bitterness of his heart. Alexis stood up and took a couple of steps toward Johnny. Her heart reaching toward an anger so intense, its containment precarious at best. There was still so much more to a story that was long overdue in the telling. If she was going to have any success in getting him settled into a frame of mind to continue, she needed to get his attention centered on his mother rather than his Nana Rose. It wouldn’t be easy considering the absolute blind devotion Johnny held for his grandmother as though it were his salvation.

“JOHN EDMUND O’BRIEN… STOP.”

Johnny’s head snapped up so fast he lost his equilibrium and was forced to take a step back to catch himself, eyes rising instantly to meet the steel of Alexis’ as his mouth closed abruptly. It was the first time he could remember Alexis ever raising her voice to him in irritation and to hear his full name used for the first time since his Nana died...

“I’m sorry, Johnny. But, I can’t let you attack your mother without knowing all of the facts. I know how much you love your Nana Rose, but I’m asking you to follow her lead and not become judge and jury in a case you only have a piece of. Now please, come back and sit down. You have another letter you have to read in order for all of this to make sense.”

It broke Alexis’ heart to see the look in his eyes. Eyes that one could count on to ease the souls turmoil with a glance were now darkened by the weight of what seemed a mother’s hatred of all things good. He was torn between his love for his grandmother and what Alexis was now asking of him.

When his unforgiving stance did not waiver Alexis knew she would have no choice but to reveal a part of his mother’s letter in order to get through to that part of him that his Nana nurtured and taught the basic truths of honor, sacrifice… mercy. Taking a step closer she lay her hand on his arm and with quiet regret spoke the words she knew would tear him apart.

“Johnny, there were things that happened to your mother when she was fifteen that no child, no matter how unruly, should ever have to endure. But what finally drove her to leave her home…” closing her eyes she took a deep breath and labored to make her words fall as gently as possible. “…she was raped, Johnny.”

His eyes grew darker, shifted slightly then fell to land on her hand that rested on his forearm. Waiting breathlessly to see how he would take the news, she felt the muscles of his forearm grow rigid beneath her hand and the wellspring of warmth and gentleness she had come to rely on in her friend was gone.

He stood unmoving a moment more then slowly raised his other hand to take hold of hers then removed it from his arm. As he turned away from her she reached for him only to be gently pushed away. His shoulders sagged from the weight of unwanted truths; his eyes relentlessly shifted back and forth refusing to focus on anything concrete in a vain attempt to stop the images that now assaulted him. Johnny slowly walked to the sliding door that led to the balcony in hopes of relieving the burning need of his lungs for fresh air. Opening it as though it were granite, he stepped through and walked toward the railing. Holding her breath, Alexis quietly followed him and as she reached the door she saw Johnny catch hold of the railing and slip soundlessly to his knees. His pain… his inconsolable heart blindly reaching out to find another compassionate heart to feed on… found hers and she cried.

Glancing back over her shoulder she caught sight of his mother’s letter still lying on the couch where he left it as the letter from his Nana took hold of his undivided attention. Retrieving the letter she joined him on the balcony where she leaned down and gently took Nana’s letter from his hand and replaced it with his mothers. Wrapping her arm around his waist she gently kissed his cheek then went back inside to wait. He would read it when he was ready. Pulling a chair from the dining room, she placed it far enough away from the balcony door to keep from being intrusive yet close enough to keep a watchful eye on Johnny then sat down to wait.

Staring at the letter in his hand, Johnny’s mind was a mass of confusion, anger and sorrow. A mother he had done his best to forget… a grandmother he needed now more than ever… a father who once loved him… and Joy… his heart ached with his need for Joy in that moment. Rising from his knees, Johnny sat down on one of the balcony chairs and looked down at the letter he held in his hands. Raped. His mother. Raped. Turning the letter over he slowly pulled back the flap, hesitating a moment more he pulled the letter out, unfolded it and began to read.

‘Dear John E,

That’s what your dad called you from the day he came to get you at the hospital until the day he died. I asked him once why and he said his son would have enough to deal with considering the life he was born into without being saddled with a puny name as well. He gave you his name because it was strong and a name worthy of a boy as well as a man. I met your dad on the docks one day and for some reason that still remains a mystery to me he found something in me worth caring about. He knew what I was doing there, but he said it didn’t matter because by the time he got through with me I would love him so much I’d walk away from the street life and marry him. I’m afraid your dad lived more on dreams than reality. I conned myself into believing that all he wanted was a child and would do whatever he had to in order to get one even if it meant marrying a hooker. I resigned myself to having a child until I found out my child was a boy. I know that sounds cruel, but I had a real problem giving the world another man that would take advantage of or abuse women. And in the world I lived in, there was no doubt what a son of mine would turn out to be. So, just before you were born I married John with the understanding that no one would ever know of the marriage and he would take over complete care of you.

I don’t know why I’m choosing now to tell you everything that happened so long ago. I guess partly because I’ve finally come to a place in my life where it doesn’t hurt so much to remember. Today is your birthday and although I know you have a life of your own, I suddenly realized that you probably think I’m dead now. After all, what kind of mother would walk away from her child when he was nine and try to forget she ever had a son if she weren’t dead. Many times over the years I have wished that I had died when I was 15 and looking in a mirror was more painful than a razor blade against my wrist.

I need you to know what happened John E. Maybe it’s because the burden has become so unbearable or perhaps because it would have meant so much to your grandmother; or maybe it’s just because I need some kind of absolution. Whatever the case, I do not ask for your pity only that you try to forgive me and maybe someday you might even consider finding me. I’ll never be too far away that you can’t easily find me should you ever want to.

Life with your grandparents was often more than I could handle. None of what I went through in those early years was their fault. They did their best for me. I don’t know what it was inside of me that kept me from accepting all they tried to do for me. I often felt suffocated by their love and would take off for days to get away from them. When I would finally come home, Papa would take me aside and give me hell for treating Mama so cruelly. With Papa, Mama always came first. Most times when I came home it was because I was hungry and Mama would hug me and sit me down in front of a table full of everything I loved most. She never scolded me for taking off. She would just feed me, draw a warm bath then put me to bed. It always made me feel like I was a thief of some kind. Stealing love that wasn’t deserved.

Sometimes I would watch Papa and Mama. They were so good together. Papa would go out almost everyday and come back with something special for Mama. He was always doing things to make her smile; always putting her first in everything he did. I hope that if you learned anything from Papa it was how to treat the woman you love. I use to dream of being loved like that. But through my own rebellion and stupidity I made sure it would never happen to me. When I was 15 I took off again and got into quite a bit of trouble. The boy I was hanging with decided to take off on a cross-country adventure. His solution to our lack of funds for the trip was to rob the local market and when I told him no, I was going home he figured he would try to convince me it was a good idea. By the time he finished trying to convince me I had several broken bones, a collapsed lung and what I was to learn later a child on the way. He left me on Mama’s front porch and that’s where she found me almost dead from loss of blood. Mama tried to tell me a demon lived in that boy and that none of it was my fault. But I knew better; the demon she spoke of was alive and well living inside me.

Living with Mama became very painful after that. She wanted so much to love all the hurt away, but something in me died. I couldn’t accept her love, couldn’t find enough love in me to build a new life on. I couldn’t stay with Mama and keep watching her day after day slowly withering away because she thought she failed me. So, I wrote her a letter one morning and told her I was leaving and if she really loved me she would let me go and not follow or ever try to find me. I knew if I played on her love for me she would do as I asked. Walking down the steps that morning I looked back just for one more look at my home and saw Papa standing at his bedroom window watching me leave. He looked quickly over his shoulder then back at me and told me he loved me and to take care of myself. Papa chose Mama over me. I think I would have lost respect for him if he hadn’t.

The day your dad died, I thought about calling Papa and telling him to come get you. But, by that time I was so cold inside, so defiant I wouldn’t admit to anyone I needed help of any kind. I received a letter from Mama asking me to send you to her so she could take care of you. She asked me not to make you follow me from bed to bed. It was a statement that caused such a deep resentment in me that I swore to myself she would never set eyes on you. So I took you back to the apartment with me. A few years later, I got into trouble again. This time John wasn’t around to clean up my mess. One of my customers wanted more than I was willing to give and I found myself having to hide his body. I knew I had to get out of town for a while, but I couldn’t run with a kid hanging on to me. So I did the only thing I could think of doing to save you. I called Papa. He came for you and I made him promise me that none of my life would ever again touch Mama or you. He reminded me that he had never lied to Mama and couldn’t see his way to starting then. So I showed him Mama’s letter and I threatened to take you on the run with me and he finally gave in. We put together a plan that the next day Mama would get a call telling her you were left abandoned and if somebody didn’t claim you then the state would. Just before he left that night he looked at me with the saddest eyes and told me, ‘There’s only so low a person can go before they are forced to make a choice to live or die. Don’t make me have to tell Mama you chose to die.’ The next morning I watched from across the street and saw her come for you. Even after all I put her through she still didn’t let me down. I did what I could to make up for the trouble I caused her. I gave her you. The last time I saw Mama she was holding you as if her world had just begun again. I will hold that picture in my heart for the rest of my life.

I left town with a pretty good stash on me. Seeing Mama that day and hearing the last words Papa ever said to me… made me want to try and start over. I went to New York and found a job waiting tables. A couple of years later, I met a man who reminded me of Papa. We married and we were together for twenty years before he died. I have a little baby girl now. Well not so little. She’s not much younger than you are and looks quite a bit like you. I named her after Mama ‘Catherine Rose O’Brien’ and when she was old enough to understand I told her about you, Mama and Papa. She wants so much to come find you, but I can’t let her. I don’t want your life spoiled anymore by mine. So she settled for naming her first born after you.

When I think of my little boy now, it is with the weight of guilt and regret. In just his few short years my grandson has taught me more about love than I ever allowed Mama to teach me. I think of you every day and hope that you were able to learn all that Mama tried to teach me and because of it maybe someday you will find it in your heart to forgive me for all the mistakes I made with you. Until then John E…

I love you son,

Margaret Rose O’Brien Marten

As the last page dropped from Johnny’s hand to land on top of the others in his lap, he felt the arms of his wife envelope him and he turned laying his head on her shoulder and cried.