1944 - December

Lilly has fixed Nick's old bedroom fro Rose. Even with the more feminine touches: a rose patterned lampshade, pale peach drapes, paintings of flowers, a pink chenille bedspread with a pattern of daisies and green squares—Rose still knows that underneath, it was Nick's room. She knew that if she opened the closet door, she would find boxes of trophies, letters, hand written short stories, books and books and books. She liked being in the room where Nick had grown up, the room she'd known most of her life too.

The drapes were drawn and she would stay in bed all day. She had found a way to stay in a dreamy state most of the time. And, her mind and body cooperated fully. She remained tired and sleepy and the softness of the pillow felt comforting against her face. She liked the thick darkness of the room. Still the curtains were light enough to suggest when the day was turning into night. And, she loved night because she would not have to make any excuses to give in to sleep.

Her body had mostly healed. A long red hook shaped scar cut across her right torso where her breast had once been. It was still sore if she ran her finger over the scar, but the bruising and searing burning had subsided. She usually lay on her left side so she wouldn't notice the absence of her fleshy breast against the mattress. It was strange to her that she had accommodated her breasts all of her life, and now the loss of one was such a overwhelming void. She rarely looked in the mirror because when she did, she saw her flat side, mocked by her normal-looking breast on the other side. She saw her ribs protruding from under her skin. Her torso was concave under the collar bone and her underarm was deformed, a chunk removed and sewn up. Then there was the swelling starting at the shoulder down to her hand. She looked like a horrid creature. She hated even touching her right side. The ribs felt eerily skeletal. It was so freakish to have her muscles removed. She treated her right side like an orphan that she had to carry around with her, but that she hated. She despised. Even under a slip, the skeletal, sunken flesh under her collar bone was revealed. Rose had never known that a person could become so ugly so quickly.

Rose's right arm was weak. It was difficult to pull her hair back. She hadn't attempted putting it up in clips. She knew it would be impossible to make herself presentable with just one hand. She was unable to lift her arm over her head. Dr. Higgins had told her to keep her arm as stationary as possible, no lifting. She ignored the arm too. She hated her right arm just as much as she hated the right side of her torso.

She wore her wedding ring again and she had become accustomed to twisting it with the fingers of her left hand. She did this almost constantly. It was the only thing that gave her any comfort. Even at that, it wasn't very comforting.

Now, Rose preferred dreams to real life. And, she saved all of her energy for Henry. Every ounce of it. When he entered the room to see her, she adjusted herself to look presentable. She sat up and listened to him attentively. She played checkers and talked to him about his day. Often, he was so busy playing, or helping Lilly or Daniel with something that his visits were short. When he left the room, Rose would sink back under the covers, exhausted.

***

In the dream, Rose is in the attic with Nick. It is hot and dry and the air is thick with dust. Yellow beams of light stream in through the dormer windows. The room smells of old wood and old papers. Nick is looking for his mother's old photographs. Rose is flipping through the pages of an old diary. The handwriting is old fashioned and on the first page is a picture of a man. His hair is short and straight up. His collar us up and he wears a bow tie. Rose is looking intently at his eyes. She feels like she can imagine what he is thinking.

Then Rose is aware of her dream. "this is when it happened," she thinks. "Am I dreaming?"

But then Nick is in front of her. He is saying "no. Its not a dream."

Some how her clothes are off. She is only seventeen. Nick has laid an old quilt on the floor. He is just looking at her.

"I am afraid to touch you," he says.

"You've touched me before," she smiles.

'Not like this."

Slowly he touches her breast with his bare hand. She can feel chills raise on her skin. He pulls away quickly.

"What happened?" he says backing away, "what happened Rose?"

But Rose doesn't understand. She is looking at Nick not herself.

"Its all right," she says.

But, Nick is frightened. "what happened Rose?"

Slowly she looks down. She sees the concave flesh, the ribs protruding under her skin. The hollow collar bone. She reaches both hands up and tries to cover herself.

She wakes in a sweat. She can tell by the color of the room, it is late afternoon. Not much longer until night time. She thinks to herself. She thinks she can make it until then.

Rose hears a creak outside of the door, then a piercing light enters the room. "Rosie, dear" Lilly says softly.

Rose tries to muster a normal voice. As if Lilly thinks she is acting normally. "Yes?"

"Sweetheart. Carmen is here. She wants to see you. Can I send her in?"

Rose's heart sinks. She is too tired to talk to anyone. It is painful, like being in a vice grip, attending to someone else with sleep pulling at her.

Then, Lilly said, "I want you to see her today Rosie." Lilly's voice was stern, authoritative. Rose couldn't send Carmen away. Lilly wouldn't allow it.

Rose felt like a child who was infermed. Sick in bed with some kind of infection. Recovering, but groggy. She sat up. Her hair felt so dirty. Her eyes felt sandy

The door opened again and Carmen cautiously entered. She was wearing a periwinkle wool dress. The collar had a long yoke that was held back with two covered buttons. Carmen wore a belt and, the dress had a full skirt. Carmen looked lovely. Rose thought that perhaps a dress like that would look all right on her. Perhaps the yolk would fall high enough on her collar to cover her sunken chest. Rose realized that even with a falsie, the dress would still hang awkwardly.

Carmen walked over to the side of the bed. "Its dark in here Rosie."

"Well, its almost night time isn't it?" Rose tried to sound cheery, but her voice was dry from so little talking and it came out like a desperate whisper. She tried to clear her throat.

"No, its only about noon."

"Oh," Rose said. She sat up and adjusted herself. 'If it bothers you, you can pull the drapes."

Instead Carmen sat on the edge of the bed and took Rose's hand in her own. Carmen coudnt' help it, she started crying. She looked down at the bed and Rose could see that she was trying to recover and small talk with her.

'Its all right," Rose said, "its all right to cry." A moment passed this way in the darkness and Rose said, "Why don't you pull the drapes open, Carmen?"

Carmen stood awkwardly and opened the curtains of the window nearest the bed. The light came in a sharp, painful jab. Then it started to calm down. Rose could see that the trees were all bare. She could see the brittle branches hanging overhead. A large gum tree was on the side of the house and prickly balls were all that remained on the bare branches. She remembered trying to walk across the prickly balls that had fallen to the ground, barefooted as a child. They were painful.

"I went to the garden club meeting. "Carmen started. She smiled a little, Rose could tell that Carmen could not find her way back to Rose. Rose was far away now. It wasn't just the operation. It was her life, it was down low in a place that was cavernous. It was an uncomfortable place and Rose could tell Carmen wanted to leave. To get back into air that wasn't saturated with death and sadness. But, Rose felt this was the only air that she could breathe. That she couldn't exist outside of this darkness.

"How was the club Carmen?"

Now, Carmen released this gem of information, but it wasn't the gift Carmen intended. It was just a weight. A slight burden, something that didn't add miserably to Rose's weight, but added to it just the same.

"Your friend, Mr. O'Neil was there," Carmen said. 

Rose felt a rolling inside of her, a kind of sick feeling. It wasn't Ed O'Neil or what he had done, or what she had done. It was a reminder of the last of her life as a woman. Her eyes filled with tears and she looked at Carmen for a long time. Rose knew that Carmen thought that this sadness was because of an unrequited love, or some longing for Nick but it wasn't. It was what she had been like. The feelings that she'd had at one time. The feelings she had had with Nick and then with Ed. Rose's lip began to tremble and her face wrinkled up with so much grief that she started shaking. When she did she let out a deep and sharp cry. She raised her left hand and covered her mouth. Rose felt faint and dizzy.

"Did you love him, Rosie?"

Rose shook her head but all she could remember was his hands unbuttoning her green and white dress with the scalloped collar. She remembered his long, artist fingers opening her dress as if it was a soft delicate flower. Tracing the lines of her breasts over her slip. Rose felt herself go limp and she breathed in and out deeply, heaving like a child. Tears streamed down her face.

"No," she said. "No I didn't. Not really."

"Why are you crying Rosie? What did I say to make you sad?"

"I want to show you, Carmen? Can I do that?"

Carmen's eyes grew wide and she nodded her head. She had started crying too.

Rose sat straight up in the bed and started to untie her night dress. "Can I show you Carmen?"

Carmen didn't speak. She kept her eyes on Rose's eyes. Rose could tell that Carmen was afraid to look down. Carmen cleared her throat and brought her hand to her neck. It was instinctive as if she might suffocate. Rose opened her night shirt and let it fall around her shoulders.

Carmen's words were metered. They were kind. She looked for a moment at Rose's scars, at her sunken chest, at the ribs that looked like those of a starving child. "I'm sorry they hurt you so much, Rosie." Carmen said.

Rose pulled the night shirt together and held it together with her left hand.

"You are still beautiful," Carmen finally said. "Did you know that you are still beautiful. And, you are alive. Rosie, I remember your mother. I remember how sick and unhappy she was all of the time. She didn't have any operations. She just let it--"

"I am grotesque," Rose said and couldn't help but sink back down into the bed. She turned her head to one side and buried it in the pillow. Carmen reached and rubbed her back, but Rose turned to her. "Please go, Carmen," rose said, "I want to see you when I'm feeling better."

Carmen leaned in and kissed Rose on the cheek, "let me stay here with you Rosie. We don't have to talk about it. I'm sorry I mentioned Ed O'Neil. I just wanted to see you smile. I thought—"

Rose turned and looked at her. "Can you please come back when I am not like this?"

"Won't I cheer you up a bit if we talked about...or you can just cry and I can hold you in my arms. It's not all over Rose. Its not the end of things. You're going to be ok. I don't want to go. You're my best friend. You're my closest friend and I miss you so much." Carmen started crying again.

Rose could feel herself grow so exhausted. "You can stay," she said. "If you close the drapes and just sit here, holding my hand. If you let me be like this."

"Ok," Carmen said. She stood and pulled the drapes and the darkness enveloped the room. When it did the air seemed to grow stale. Carmen sat on the bed and put her hand around Rose's. Rose rolled into the pillow and cried. She cried for a long time and Carmen didn't say anything at all.

***

The door opened and Henry entered the room. He looked so much older than seven. Lilly must have cut his hair, because it was neatly trimmed around his ears and his bangs were perfectly straight. He wore little wool trousers and a woolen shirt.

"Hi mommy," He said and he climbed into the bed next to her. Ever since she moved into Lilly's this was their arrangement. He would climb into bed, bringing a toy or book with him and they would play for a time. Then, she would hold him in her arms and feel his warm, sweet smelling flesh against hers. In those moments she would close her eyes and she could feel her heart pouring with love. She realized that this part of her was still alive. It was a good thing, and losing her womanhood hadn't hurt her motherhood.

He climbed up on to her bed. His hands were sticky dirty and he had a battered superman comic book in his hand. As he climbed up, she saw the stick from a lollipop in his pocket. She cringed at the thought of lint and dirt and hair collecting on the candy.

"What do you have there, sweetheart?"

"A comic book."

"Oh," she said. He seemed too young for a comic book.

"Can you read it?"

He adjusted himself beside her. She put her arm around him.

"Grand papa showed me, some of the words."

"Can you tell me about the story."

As Rose feared, he pulled the lollipop from his pocket and put it into his mouth. Rose started to laugh, when she did, she coughed. She put her hand over her mouth and waited for the tickle to pass.

"See on the cover, there's superman." His fingers touched the cover and where they did, the paper stuck while he worked it apart.

Rose looked at the cover. It said World's finest. It showed a picture of superman and two other characters dressed in costumes and capes.

"Who are these two?" she asked.

"That's batman. And his helper, Robin."

"Are they all friends?"

Henry looked up at her as if she were crazy. He opened the comic to the first page, he started to read the captions. He read slowly, "I'll stop you Batman, No matter what happens to me." His reading was slow and choppy.

Rose could feel an enormous pride well up inside of her. She didn't know that he could read. Then he said slowly "Oh No you won't, Gill."

Henry sucked on the lollipop and stared at the page, "what does that say?"

"Where Darling?"

"In the orange box"

Rose read, "And the hammering fists of Batman soon end another criminal's career."

"I'm proud of you Henry. You are like your daddy. You are a good reader. Do you like to read?"

"Ya," he said, and then he turned and looked at Rose, "will you listen to superman on the radio with me today?"

"If you want me to, of course I will."

"I want to show you what he does. He's very strong. I think I have that kind of strength. If I concentrate."

Rose wanted to squeeze him hard and hold him to her. She wanted so much of him but she didn't want to suffocate him. If she could she would have him sleep with her and sit with her, but he had so much to do and she didn't want to bury him in her pain.

"I would love to listen to it with you, darling. I am very interested." Finally, she gave in to her longing, "Can I get a big hug from you?"

He held the comic in his hand and she put her arms around him. He kept reading the comic over her shoulder while she hugged him tight. She kissed his cheek. He smelled lovely. "I love you," she whispered. "I am so glad that you are my little boy."

He wiggled out of her hug and smiled. "want some?" he asked her holding up his lollipop.

She shook her head, "No thank you." And she started to laugh.