To Probe A Beating Heart (2 page)

BOOK: To Probe A Beating Heart
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CHAPTER TWO

 

 

Then he heard a voice . . .

 

 

Stelian the lesser was almost a year old when an American couple came to the orphanage looking for a baby to take home to complete their family. Ellie and Allen Swall, had been married for six years and as much as they tried, they were not successful in having children. Allen wanted a son to brag about, Ellie wanted a daughter with whom she could have afternoon tea. Most of all they both wanted a bright, healthy child that would make them proud and complete their family.

             
Adoption was not a consideration until the doctors indicated there was no other way. Adoptions in the United States were difficult if one’s history was less than perfect and all but impossible if there were large enough flaws in your record. However, foreign adoptions were relatively easy and less expensive in the long run. Both European and Oriental sources were considered and the European market won. It would please the Swalls to have a child that resembled them. Allen was of Mid European descent, Ellie was mostly Hungarian with a touch of Romanian. She had dark brown eyes and long black hair that she brushed constantly. Ellie was naturally dark, an almost permanent tan color to her skin, and tall, standing eight inches over five feet without shoes. She was a very attractive woman, and drew the attention of both men and women. Allen was tall, athletic of build and also darker in eyes, hair and skin coloring. This was a fit that could not be ignored. The Swalls could little afford multiple trips to Romania, the selection was not as wide as they had hoped and the choice was quickly made.

             
Stelian Lupasco was adopted by the Swalls and would go to America. America, that adventure that his father had wanted and would have done anything to achieve, that adventure that his mother had dreamt about with her tall handsome football player but would never realize, that dream such as it was, would now be little Stelian’s. He was far too young to understand the concept of a new country, of a new family, but he was bright enough to see that changes were happening. Once he was held by someone who wanted him, once he had a meal that satisfied his hunger, once he slept in a clean warm bed only to wake to someone who held him and fed him again, he sensed that his life was better, he was beginning to feel a sense of “safeness” that he never felt before. His greatest problem now seemed to be learning the new words that they used. Stelian could not understand anything they were saying.

             
Names were important to Ellie, and Stelian was not an acceptable name. She had thought of a number of names in the years that she and Allen tried to have children and one came to the fore more than any other. Allen had his wish, a son and he was not about to deny her that choice of a name. Ellie’s grandfather was always nice to her when she was growing up. He brought her presents when he visited and made her birthdays more memorable by taking her to Disney World four years in a row. Her graduation from high school was made special when he handed her the  keys to a new car. Grandpa Averell passed away less than a year after that and the last gift from him was an inheritance that would provide her a small, but regular income for the rest of her life. She wanted to name her son Averell in his memory. How could Allen argue?

             
Thus, Averell Swall came to America at the age of 11 months to begin a new life. A life that would find many doors to dark corridors that would end in disappointment. His first year was one of learning the new words, new faces, new feelings and a sense of comfort and security. He now had someone to hold on to and feel the warmth of another being. He now slept through the night with no fear and no hunger. He now awoke in a sun lit room to someone who picked him up and held him as she gently spoke to him and fed him. He was learning what love was, something sadly lacking at his previous home. His new home was a single family residence in a middle class neighborhood of suburban Syracuse, New York. The houses were built in the twenties and the thirties and featured large block foundations, clapboard siding, large windows, high ceilings, crown moldings, coal fired furnaces and poor insulation. Home improvement projects were undertaken to correct a number of these energy expensive features and brightly painted walls along with new appliances made these homes more desirable to the upcoming young professionals. The Swalls had purchased their house in 1964 after the installation of a new gas fired, forced air furnace with the space allowed for an air conditioning coil to be added later. Summers in Syracuse were burdened with few excessively hot days and window fans were less expensive than having an air cooling coil and condensing unit installed. The Swall’s home was a square looking house with a large roofed front porch that ran the width of the house and an average front yard. Allen had planted flowers along the front of the house, to complement the boxwoods that had reached a height of three feet, matching the height of the floor of the porch. The first floor had a living room with a wood burning fireplace, dining room, kitchen and a small den. The second floor held four bedrooms and a large bathroom with a walk in shower that was placed next to the ancient cast iron bath tub with claw feet in one of the recent improvement projects by the previous owner. There  was an attic that was unfinished and contained boxes of seasonal clothing and decorations and other boxes of things left to them by their parents. The basement was a dirty place where the furnace, washer, dryer and an extra freezer were kept. Ellie had been petitioning for the washer and dryer to be relocated to the den to save her time and energy when laundry was to be done. Allen had begun moving his books and the family financial records out of the den and up to the second floor in the smallest bedroom. With Averell’s arrival, the second smallest bedroom was prepared for him and the third smallest served as the guest room.

             
As Averell grew and achieved his second year, he learned new words and meanings and the “terrible twos” gained new meaning to the Swalls. From the beginning, Averell’s habit of grabbing anything his little hands could reach was destined to get him into trouble. His habitual pulling on Ellie’s earrings and Allen’s glasses was, annoying at best, his grabbing and tearing pages in books was angering and his habit of squeezing food through his little fingers before eating his fill and spreading the rest on mom, dad and guests was the limit. By the time he could stand and walk, Averell was into everything. He would grab something and hold on to it with all his strength. He graduated to tormenting the family cat, finding it amusing to pour his milk or juice on its back, but dumping Ellie’s still warm, if not hot coffee on the cat’s head one Sunday morning led to the frightened animal’s running out of the house and into the street where it met its end. Averell soon found his way into Ellie’s cosmetics, Allen’s socks and his favorite, the Sunday newspaper. On the first day that powder and perfume were spilled and spread all over the master bedroom, Averell earned a stern scolding resulting in an hour long ‘off and on’ crying bout and imprisonment in his room. It was the first cosmetic disaster but it was not the last. Allen was equally upset within that same week when he found his socks spread around the bedroom floor and several floating in the toilet. Each episode merited the young Averell a greater punishment, rising to a spanking or a slap in the face. His third year was a mission of discovery. Everything was to be looked at from every angle, nothing was sacred. If he could reach it, he would try to lift it, if he could lift it, he would turn it over to see the bottom, if it contained something, it was spilled. By the age of four, Averell had spilled perfume, powder, cereal, socks, milk and assorted dinner foods at practically every turn in the road. He had worn them down. He was no longer the cute little baby, he was now the little monster that made messes and tore up newspapers. He spent many hours in his room, alone, repeating the new words he had heard, “damn it,” “damn it,” “damn it,” very quietly to himself.

             
For all the negative, there was Averell’s ability to read. He knew the alphabet when he was three and could match words and pictures like ball and cat when he was not much older. It was noticed that he was able to recognize a number of words before his fourth birthday. Children’s books were a way to keep him quiet and out of the way and both Allen and Ellie picked up different books for Averell for just that reason. Mostly books about animals and dinosaurs, but he could struggle through a newspaper article or a piece in a magazine, if it looked interesting. With all the time he spent alone, Averell did a lot of reading and he enjoyed it. Each time he was sent to his room, he was told to clean it. “There is a place for everything and everything should be in its place,” was the order given at the beginning of each punishment. Averell became a very neat individual, almost to the point of obsession. His room was spotless, his books were not only on a shelf, but in alphabetic order.

 

* * *

 

              Travel was not normally one of Allen’s job responsibilities. When it came up, he could be out of town for three or four days at a time, rarely more. His position within his company was that of an engineer and with time and hard work, he was advanced to the project management level. Along with title and pay came an increase in responsibility. He now had to direct the activities of several teams of people in several locations. The largest group was located on the west coast and he needed to be in direct contact with them on a regular basis. Ellie had never been pleased with Allen’s traveling while she sat home alone and now she had the additional burden of an unruly child. Therefore, when Allen determined that his presence was needed in California for a project meeting, Ellie complained loudly and cried louder. Allen was powerless. His job demanded face time with his team and the trip was unavoidable regardless of his wife’s disapproval. The end result was that Allen had no choice and as unhappy as his wife was, Allen had to go. The night before his flight to California, they argued about the importance of his travel and his unwillingness to refuse to go. It made the trip very unpleasant. Allen was gone and Ellie was unhappy. She was not dealing well with Allen’s desertion and she took it out on Averell. He became the object of her displeasure, being criticized for everything he did or didn’t do. Averell accepted his punishment and dealt with it by withdrawing into himself. He went to his room and crouched in a corner where he could push his back against two connecting walls. There was comfort in touching the walls, a feeling of ‘safeness’ keeping the world in front of him where he could see everything that might confront him. He squeezed into that corner and quietly muttered to himself, “I am safe here.” He found comfort in the words. No one heard him, he spoke as if to the empty air in front of him. He had cried at first, very quietly, to himself. Then, after a few minutes, he stopped crying and stared with a hard and determined look into the empty room in front of him and spoke very quietly to the emptiness, “I am safe here, Damn it.”

             
Then he heard a voice say,
“Damn it.”
Nobody was there and he did not understand.

             
On the day that Allen returned from California, his flight landed at 7:45 in the evening and by the time he collected his baggage, found his car in the parking lot and drove home, it was after 9:00 pm. When he came through the front door, Allen did not know what to expect. Ellie had become very unpredictable, arguments sometimes led to days of negative comments and hard feelings. On other occasions, she was completely the opposite and he could only hope for the best. This time, she was in a good mood and they patched up the last argument and hustled Averell of to bed so they could do the same. Allen had picked up three new books for Averell in the airport in California. When he opened his luggage, he took the books out, quickly took them to Averell’s room and tossed them on the floor, thinking he was already asleep. It was late for a five year old boy, but Averell was not tired. He let Allen think that he was asleep, and when the door closed, he turned on a light, picked up the books and laid on the bed, on top of the covers. As he browsed through the books one at a time, previewing the pictures, he could hear them bouncing on their bed, laughing and talking. Then there was silence, he got up and walked across the room, stooped and pushed himself into the corner where he felt safe and started to read.

             
Allen’s second trip to California for the same project was again his decision. A decision that he alone made and he knew was necessary, but still it brought more argument and more crying. Averell was left home alone with Ellie who mumbled to herself constantly, complaining about Allen and his travels. That “son of a bitch” and “bastard” were the most common references she used, and Averell heard many of them. During his punishment periods when he was sent to his room, Averell would sit in his corner and repeat the words, “bastard” and “bitch” and “damn it.” He didn’t know what the words meant, only that they were not nice. When he used the “bitch” word in front of Ellie, he was sent to his room for the remainder of the week. Later, when he spilled milk on the floor and used another word, he was given another week in his room. No matter what he did to incur the wrath of his mother, the punishment always involved his being relegated to his room for the remainder of that week.

             
When Allen was leaving for the fifth time, Ellie was unusually stern faced and silent. Allen did not understand, he stormed out and threatened to stay an extra day or two, not really meaning it at the time. During this absence of Allen’s, Averell was pushed aside and ignored, not punished, just ignored. That was almost worse than a beating and he found himself going to his room and the comfort of his corner. He squatted in his corner and mumbled, “Damn it.”

BOOK: To Probe A Beating Heart
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