The Sportin' Life (38 page)

A nurse reached out to place a mask over Lissa
’
s face and then the doctor entered the room. Addie gasped as she saw the instruments on the table beside her daughter.

“
No,
”
she insisted,
“
No!
”
It wasn
’
t a delivery
—
it was the abortion. Addie moved swiftly and injected herself into the scene, between the doctor and her slumbering daughter.
“
No,
”
she shouted,
“
No! Wake up!
”
She pushed the doctor back, pulled Lissa to a sitting position, shouted,
“
Wake up!
”

But the doctor walked right through her, Lissa continued to slumber, and Addie was powerless to make a difference.

“
This isn
’
t like high school,
”
mumbled Addie,
“
I made her do it then, but this could be her last chance. And she seemed to love that baby so much, so much more than….
”

Snapping out of the scene, Addie placed her hand on her chest, feeling for her heart, and she felt something open. Something inside her was a little different. What was that feeling? She didn
’
t know.

“
Go with it,
”
said Cerise.

“
I could have been kinder,
”
said Addie. Then gasping,
“
It wasn
’
t just that they didn
’
t love me. I didn
’
t love them, not enough.
”

Addie began to sob, and she felt the sorrow ricochet through her. Everyone had let her down. And she had let them down too. She had been so proud of herself
—
acing her way through school, honors in every class. She was a success, someone who did her best and was rewarded for it.

But had she genuinely done her best? She had suffered. People had caused her so much anguish. But she had inflicted sorrow in equal measure. Her children had suffered. At least in life, no matter what, children should be loved, shouldn
’
t they? She should have tried harder with the kids, then maybe they wouldn
’
t have hated her so much.

What if this were like a class? What if she were being graded? This wouldn
’
t be A work. It would be a terrible grade. She had failed! They were judging her, like at school, and her grade would be bad! It was unthinkable. Addie looked at the kindly faces of her guides, waiting for them to turn stormy, waiting for the disappointment, the disenchantment to surface, and then of course the penance would be levied. Soon they would despise her, for clearly this was some sort of partnership, spirit-human enterprise, this thing that once was her life, and she was the weak link. Addie was frightened to look in their eyes.

“
Oh my God,
”
she said, truly appalled,
“
I
’
m sorry. I
’
ve let you down. I
’
ve done a poor job. A bad job. I
’
m sorry.
”
What would they say? What would they do to her? Maybe she would be consigned to hell. Maybe she would suffer more in the future than she ever had in life. Terrified, knowing there was little hope if any, she asked,
“
Can you forgive me?
”

Cerise reached out, and Addie quivered. This was it. She was going to be dematerialized. She wasn
’
t good enough to continue even in the afterlife. She would be destroyed. Then she really would be dead and nothing more would be left! Addie shrunk from Cerise, certain her punishment was imminent.

Cerise spoke calmly.
“
Your debt is not to us. For you we have nothing but love. Your debt is to the universe, to other souls.
”

Debt. She owed a debt. She was in collections even after death. Cerise reached out then and surrounded Addie with love, and Addie didn
’
t resist. She sank into Cerise and let go. Whatever would happen, would happen. Addie couldn
’
t control it.

But she didn
’
t dematerialize. She was still there.
“
So what do we do now?
”
Addie asked.

“
Work to understand why you made those choices, and find ways to forgive and be forgiven,
”
said Cerise.

The voice came out of nowhere, a shattering, disembodied shriek, like the shrill whistle of a siren passing by too closely.
“
You stole my life!
”
The sound was a bitter wind, chilling and assaulting her. The words were easily understood, but it was the harpy shriek that put Addie on edge and she pressed her hands tightly to her ears. It did no good. She could hear with her ears covered, could see with her eyes closed. She needed only to think of apple pie, and the air, or whatever it was that surrounded her, was filled with an aroma more intense and pungent than any she
’
d experienced on earth.

“
You stole my life,
”
the voice repeated, and Addie craned her neck to spot the source of that ungodly whine.

“
What is that?
”
she asked Cerise, who remained silent.

Someone laughed, a disturbed, demented giggle, and then Addie felt a trickle of warm air cross her neck, followed by a chilling blast of cold. Suddenly, the formerly empty space before her was occupied by a withered woman, her hair frizzed out all around her head, jagged shards of crackling electricity vibrating out beyond the gray hairs. Addie looked closely, wondering was this someone
’
s patient. She wore a strait jacket, but her arms were free. Now and then the woman would raise her arms and flap her hands at Addie.

“
This must be a mistake,
”
said Addie, calmly and with confidence.
“
I never treated the very disturbed.
”

Laughter filled the air, and the woman snarled at Addie,
“
I wasn
’
t disturbed until you stole my life.
”
Addie flinched then jumped back as the woman inexplicably morphed into a rabid dog. Foam oozed across the monstrous yellow teeth and down her snarling jaws. She lunged demonically toward Addie, her fangs open and ready to tear out Addie
’
s throat.

Wordlessly, the Indian Long Feather stepped between Addie and the dog, and he reached his hands out toward the creature, who morphed back into the woman, then panted with exhaustion and collapsed against the tall Indian. He held her tightly, smoothing her hair and brushing away the shards of electricity emanating from her.

“
She doesn
’
t know me. She
’
ll never admit she stole my life. She
’
s too good with the bullshit. But wait
‘
til the next time we meet
—
I
’
ll steal your life then,
”
she said, laughing hollowly, then in a plaintive whine,
“
I
’
ll never love you again.
”
The woman jerked a ragged claw toward Addie and snarled at the air, being unable to get close enough to touch her, then disappeared entirely.

“
I don
’
t know her, or who she is,
”
said Addie confidently,
“
This is a mistake. She must be here to torment someone else. What a scary old witch. Thank goodness you didn
’
t let her near me.
”

“
We here to protect you,
”
said Long Feather.

Addie was drawn forward, into a scene from long ago. She walked behind her college mentor, Esther Schlumberger, a glass of wine in her hand, so proud to be the only student the professor had ever invited home for dinner. Esther appeared unconcerned about being attractive in her fifties; plump, gray and unretouched by any salon, she was no fashionista, but her eyes sparkled, and her intelligence was pristine and uncompromising. She was known as a terror at school, and all the grad students were petrified of her, but she had taken Addie, a blasé junior without the slightest degree of awe, as her assistant.
“
Teddy,
”
called Esther rather loudly,
“
Come meet the prize pupil.
”
And then Addie found herself face to face for the first time with Uno, Dr. Theodore Schlumberger, the famous child psychiatrist who would ultimately become her first husband.

He was a man in his fifties, tall, not stooped, gray in the right places, weathered but not wrinkled, still brisk, eminent, yet not overly serious. He smiled, his brown eyes deep and radiant, and took Addie
’
s hand in his.
“
So this is the wunderkind,
”
he said.

“
I
’
m sure she
’
s going to do great things in our field,
”
said Esther, putting a friendly arm around her prize student, while Addie beamed at the praise. Esther made her feel there was nothing she couldn
’
t do. She would do great things and it was Esther
’
s faith that helped her believe it was possible.

Later the three sat in the living room, Esther in her favorite wing chair, and Ted beside Addie on the couch. It was a large, elegant room, in a tasteful, beautifully furnished house, and Addie envied the Schlumbergers. This was the right way to live. More than anything, Addie wanted to seem interesting, but it was impossible to impress them with mere knowledge; they were smarter than she could ever hope to be.

Addie had already revealed to Esther some of the details of her past, so, in response to some rather innocuous questions, she allowed herself to be drawn out, revealing more and more intimate information, then ultimately sharing the most incendiary details from her childhood.

“
So your father was abusive?
”
asked Ted kindly.

“
He got his,
”
said Addie.
“
I was nine, and my mother fell in love with a black delivery guy. Apparently he had a package she couldn
’
t resist,
”
she said, with almost more sang-froid than she could pull off.
“
And my father, a loser at best, well you know my name is Penny, right, I always thought he had that last name to remind him what he was worth.
”

“
Ouch,
”
said Ted, yet he smiled at her and in his eyes was acceptance, nothing judgmental at all.

“
My father went crazy. I don
’
t know, maybe he confused me with my mother. Maybe he just wanted to substitute me for her so he could pretend she hadn
’
t disappeared from our lives. He kept pulling me into his lap, and I could feel him gyrating beneath me, and it was torture. I was terrified. I mean at nine I barely knew what sex was, but I did know what was happening between us was something unholy. I always tried to squirm down from his lap, but there he was twitching, holding me tight. It didn
’
t take long for me to learn not to walk too closely by his chair.
”

“
How frightening for you,
”
said Esther, sympathetically.

“
He was a drunk,
”
said Addie.
“
Totally out of control. Don
’
t you just hate that!
”

The Schlumbergers exchanged a wise glance that Addie could clearly see was two therapists acknowledging their sympathy for the terrible life she
’
d led.

“
So one night, he
’
d had too many beers
—
two, maybe three or even more, and he
’
d been cooking some canned soup
—
pretending it was a home cooked meal for his sweet little girl
—
that
’
s what he always called me
—
and the soup was on a low flame. But we had this gas stove that was always blowing out.