By the age of six, it was clear that something was off about C——-. On the exterior, she looked like any other six year old. She had long locks of burnt sienna hair, which, was usually tied into pigtails. She carried around a small white teddy bear given by her grandmother on her fourth birthday. The edges of the bear’s olive corduroy pants were now a dark brown, and the sleeves of his orange shirt had begun to tear. She tried her best to take care of it, but as with everything, nothing would last.
—
She didn’t start mentioning M——- until Christmas Eve of 2006, three days before her sixth birthday. At first we went along with it. After all, she was only six years old and was the youngest in the small town of Dellview, North Carolina. She had no playmates besides her cousin who had just turned ten, the age where one feels it is not cool to be around a younger relative.
It was already 10:30 P.M but we had agreed earlier that evening that since it was Christmas Eve, we would let C——- stay up past her usual bedtime. She grabbed two cookies from the reindeer cookie jar on the living room coffee table, picked up her teddy bear, and walked into the den. We hear a few giggles and smile thinking that she is enjoying one of her favorite Christmas cartoon specials.
Another few minutes pass and it has become silent in the den. We figure she might have fallen asleep, and just as I finish saying my thought aloud, we hear a whisper. I turn around looking towards the direction of the den, thinking that perhaps C——- was whispering something to us, but that wasn’t it.
The whispers grow louder and become mixed with C——-’s giggles. C——- comes skipping out of the den and asks us if M——- can sleepover tonight.
“Honey, who’s M——-?”
“She’s my new friend! She was watching Rudolph with me! Right Teddy?” She gives her teddy bear a pat on the head and nods in confirmation.
We share slightly concerned looks, and I kneel in front of C——- and look her in the eyes.
“Honey? Would you like to introduce Mommy to M——-?”
“Ok! Come on Mommy!” She excitedly pulls my hand and drags me into the den. C——- is jumping up and down beside me, pulling my hand and asking if M——- could sleepover. I look around and no one is there.
I look down at her and ask where her friend has gone.
“Mommy! M——- is right there! You’re so silly!” Upon finishing the sentence, C——- runs towards the middle of the room and holds out her hand as if waiting for someone to take it. As she begins to curl her hand as if holding someone else’s, the electricity goes out.
“Oh shit.”
“I’ll go get some flashlights,” calls out P—- in the other room.
I turn towards C——-’s general direction and call out to her. “C——-?” No answer.
I take a few steps forward and trip on something. I reach down to pick it up. It’s C——-’s teddy bear. “C——-?” I call out again, louder this time, even though I’m standing closer.
“Mommy?” C——- calls out in a small-frightened voice.
“It’s okay sweetie, Daddy’s going to go get some flashlights okay? Come here.” I call out while reaching my hands in front of me trying to find her. The den is not this big.
“C——-?” I call out again. No answer.
“Mommy?” It seems that C——-’s coming from behind me now.
“C——-? Can you see Mommy? Come here.”
“Mommy? Mom—” Suddenly, the lights come back on.
I turn around expecting C——- to be standing there, but she’s not. In fact, she’s not in the den at all.
—
I walk into the office and take a seat.
“Hello Dr. ——-,” I say as I take off my coat and hang it on the back of the chair.
“Hello P—-, how are you today?”
“Fine, thank you. Yourself?”
“Good, thank you. It’s really snowing out there isn’t it?”
I look out the window and let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, it is.”
“How is M———- doing?” The doctor asks calmly.
“Not so good. Days like these make it harder for her. It’s too similar to that day,” as I say it, I begin to feel my anger building up inside.
“How was she this morning?”
“Same as always.”
“Did she take her medication?”
“Yes. She takes it everyday.”
“Has there been any change in her daily emotions?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He opens up a folder, which I’m guessing is my wife’s case file. He runs his pen down the sheet as if he’s going through a checklist. He flips the page. I become more impatient.
“Excuse me for asking Doc, but shouldn’t she be getting better by now? She’s been on the new medication for a year, and there’s been no change,” I say trying to hide evidence of my anger and frustration.
“She just needs some time.”
“It’s been four years. You keep changing her medication every year but none of them are making a difference. None of them are helping her!” The last sentence slips, and my frustration comes running out.
“P—-, she just needs time. The medication helps stabilize her emotions so as not to let her do anything drastic. The medication calms her. There is no medicine that can fix her just like that. She needs time; she needs to process the event. She needs to accept it.” He looks back down at her file, and flips a page. He quickly scribbles something and turns back to the previous page.
“Is there anything else you can possibly do? What about referring us to another doctor? Maybe one that specializes in these types of cases?”
“I’m sorry P—-, you know there is nothing else we can do. I can refer you to Dr. G——-, but his services are very expensive. Your insurance won’t cover it.”
“Insurance is not important. I can get money, what I can’t get is to have my daughter come back, and what I want to get back is my wife!” At this point, I’m standing up hovering over the doctor at his desk. I feel like crying out at the top of my lungs. I feel like giving up.
Tears run down my cheek, and I take a moment, gasping for breath.
“Please. Just help me get my wife back…”
© estalement 2009
