Zoe: Von, I don't want to die.Von:
Zoe: The idea that I won't see my baby, that I will never know my child, that my child will never know me, a child that already will never know his father . . .
Von:
Zoe: Ceru was strong, strong to the end. I have no idea how he did it. I stand at the edge and I feel the bitter wind and I am terrified. The drugs they give me have no effect. My hand trembles uncontrollably. I can't sleep. The nightmare is not a dream, it is my life, what is left of it.
Von:
Zoe: For the first time, I find no comfort in words. There is a gulf. I stand on one side and those with words stand on the other. I am in the rain, they are in the house. I am tied to the stake, they are sipping snizzle in the comfort of their routine. We die alone. You can hold my hand, hold it to the last heartbeat, but death is single file and the fear and horror and terror is to each alone.
Von:
Zoe: I cannot accept being pushed over the edge.
Von:
Zoe: This is my baby. I give it life. I am the mother. I will be the mother. My child will know my touch. My child will have a mother. I do not expect you to understand the bond between mother and child.
Von:
Zoe: I need your help.
Von:
Zoe: This hospital is killing me. This planet is toxic. I feel it in every breath, needles in the lungs, razor cuts in the ocean.
Von:
Zoe: Get me out of here.
Von:
Zoe: Feel this (she places his hand on her belly). Feel that?
Von:
Zoe: Get us out of here Von.
Von:
Zoe: You know what it is like to lose a child. Imagine what life would be like for a child to lose both parents, to never know either one. Now, imagine, one day, the question comes, and it will come.
Von:
Zoe: Did you do everything possible? (pause)
Von:
Zoe: Imagine not the words, not the question, but the eyes, innocent, big and wide and wet in a small head looking into your soul. Imagine that moment between the question and answer. Imagine that bottomless gulf. That day will come.
6 comments:
Your instinct for what will not only work, but work perfectly, work like seemingly nothing else could have, is impeccable. What could possible be said that needs words. And so the silent, unspoken responses become all the more audible. How you do that, how you know to do something like that, explain that and one will have defined one aspect of the genius that is so often found within your writings. The briefest touch of this subject, of Zoe's situation, of bearing this child soon to be born, already having lost her partner, her child having lost its father, the prospect of never knowing anything, no need to go on here for she says it in a way that only she could, living it - and yes, I know :-) - she doesn't do much more than state the facts as they are, and actually she doesn't even do that, she leaves it open, the thought so completely overwhelming even finishing just the sentence is too much. Wonderfully done. Her desperation is seen in other ways, in words, but here, in these opening sentences about what she will miss, what her child will miss, in her words of aloneness. I am the rain. We die alone. You can hold my hand, hold it to the last heartbeat, but death is single file and the fear and horror and terror is to each alone.
I am the mother. I will be the mother. My child will know my touch. My child will have a mother.
You have such strong women. I believe her.
The gulf, for me, is between what I feel and see and what I am able to convey in words. One pales to the other. Maybe I will rewrite this one, maybe just write it over, but somehow find a way to make what is happening more real.
I doubt you not, that there is more, but I cannot help thinking that already you bring us to places that likewise are indescribable, further and we may never recover. I still wanna go though. Truth is, recovery became an impossibility a long time ago and so it continues. This story, the talent that you have, the world you have created, it is phenomenal, it is lasting, it is invaluable. And I don't doubt that it will mean something to many more and in years to come, some things are right, and something this special has to in the name of that rightness live and breathe and touch anew, too special not to be discovered by many, many more, in ever-expanding circles, who will love it as much as those of us here now do. A gift like this is given for a reason, to create joy, in you, in readers, to touch and change and challenge and inspire, already so many have had the pleasure, the blessed pleasure one immediately wishes might be bestowed upon all.
If there is joy, the joy is both ways, a connection between souls where neither time nor distance matters. :-)
I found myself wondering.. was Von merely silent? Then I read what Zoe was saying and realized that in this post it was her words that were relevant. I've never seen anything written like this and it was powerful.
Jen, this was a first for The Story. I'm always looking for ways to keep story and style inventive and fresh. Glad you liked this one. I may try it again. :-)
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