“I’m happy here with Taber—why can’t you accept that?” Alice asks.
“Because I’m your mother, Alice. You need to come back home. I’m trying to be logical—why can’t anyone else do the same?” The self-righteous woman challenges angrily.
I have a feeling that for most of her life, people have gone along with what she wants. It sounds like she isn’t used to not getting her way and she’s livid about it.
“I hate to break this to you, Rachel, but sometimes what you consider logicalisn’t. It’s tunnel vision and fixation and it makes everyone else around you miserable.” The male voice sounds like he’s at the end of his rope and is ready to explode.
“Someone has to be logical, Taber!” she screeches. “You want to live in your make-believe world of music and debauchery?Fine!But you’re not going to drag Alice into your disastrous life and brainwash her to follow you down the road to failure. You have no future and Alice’s isn’t in music.”
Judging by his reaction to the outburst, he’s heard this assessment one hundred times before, possibly verbatim. “Alice is so damn talented.Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you support that?” he pleads, defending Alice but not himself, even though Alice’s mom’s words were scathing. And as much as I don’t like him, I admire him for it.
Alice butts in before her mom can counter, and she sounds steely. “Taber gets me to school every day. I’m doing well in all of my classes. We’ve written three new songs this week. We have a gig next weekend that will pay next month’s rent and put groceries in the fridge for a few weeks. This is my dream. If you can’t support it, fine, but let me live it in peace,please.”
“Dreams are folly, they’re the things children chase and believe in. You want to be treated like an adult,then start acting like one. Being in a band isn’t a viable future.” It’s not cruelly said, which is the saddest part. It’s her mom’s absolute.Herlogic. It’s obvious her mom’s never had a dream.
Thank God I’m almost done because I don’t know much about Alice, but I’m pretty sure her mom is seconds away from delivering an oblivious fatal blow.Alice is about to have her spirit crushed! Don’t let that happen, Taber!I want to yell.
“What is that supposed to mean?” The steel is gone, but Alice isn’t letting her mom see the hurt. Yet.
But I can feel it coming.
“Ignore her,” Taber reassures, even though he knows she can’t. Not with it all blasting at her.
“I guess I have to play bad cop, be the reasonable one. Be theadult,” she spits the word. That was for Taber. They all have roles to play, apparently. “You should be at home, Alice. You shouldn’t be focused on music; we should be focused on finding another doctor—”
“You promised, Mom.” Alice cuts her off on an angry, wobbly, threatening breath like she’s been punched in the stomach.
“You’re not doing this to her again, Rachel,” Taber warns. “She’s not a pet project,she’s your daughter. You promised after the last doctor that you accepted the prognosis.Alice’s eyesight can’t be restored.No one wishes it could be more than me.But. It. Can’t. It’s a medical impossibility.” The desperation, utter sadness, and unimpeded anger in his voice reveal that he would do anything for Alice. Anything to protect her.
Respect—he has my respect.
“I refuse to accept that,” her mom says defiantly as she dismisses his pleas.
“You refuse to acceptme! I’m blind, Mom! Stop treating it like a death sentence!” Alice unleashes vulnerability and truth and acceptance and it’s at once both glorious and agonizing to hear because her hope is being contaminated by the doubt being forced on her.
It’s met with a rushed response that only sees its own logic and ignores her daughter’s wishes, needs, and dreams. “You want the big picture, little girl? Your blindness means you’re more likely to be discriminated against, it means you’ll never live on your own, it means you’re more likely to be the victim of a crime, it means you’re more likely to be unemployed than employed, it means you will never work in a visual career. Without sight, yourdreamsareimpossible. Am I getting through to you? Do you hear me?”
Silence.
The final turn of my screwdriver meets resistance. The bracket is secure. I need to climb down this ladder, but I can’t. Not until I hear Alice speak. I want to hearherhopeignore her mom’s denial.
Instead I hear a door open, and a faint but caustic, “Loud and clear.I love you too, Mom,” from Alice, as the door slams shut and rattles on its hinges.
“Alice, you can’t walk away from this discussion!” her mom yells.
“Rachel.” Her name is a rumbling warning. Taber’s fuming. “I know you’re not happy she’s here with me. Believe me, I know you want her as far away from me as she can get. But I love her. I take care of her, I always have. And I accept her exactly the way she is, because you seem to have forgotten that Alice is the most special person you’ve ever met or will ever have the pleasure of knowing. Now,get out of our home,” he growls.
“Are you going to follow her?” She still hasn’t grasped what she said and how it broke her daughter’s heart, instead she’s testing Taber. Pushing him. Again.
“No,” he says forcefully. “She’s pissed off and brokenhearted, she needs to take a walk and blow off some steam.”
“She shouldn’t be walking alon—”
Taber cuts off her warning with a knowing, “She’ll. Be. Fine.She’s eighteen years old, for Christ’s sake, and she’s better at navigating the downtown streets than you would be with your eyes wide open.I. Trust. Her. With. Herself.Now, get out.” His voice sounds exhausted when it drops several decibels, and he begs, “Please, just get out.”
I’m done. I can’t listen anymore, I need to find Alice. In the fight, her mom needs to be right above all else. She needs to persuade everyone to see the world the way she does. She needs to ignore reality and believe in miracles that would fix a daughter who she can’t see is already perfect in all the ways that matter.
When I reach the bottom, I hand Johnny the screwdriver and take off running for the front of the house. He doesn’t question me, or try to stop me, or tell me to mind my own business—he takes the tool and nods. The nod is,Go. At the sidewalk, I spot her two houses down. Her pace is quick and her white cane is sweeping back and forth ahead of her at double speed, like she’d rather use it to beat someone senseless than to find obstacles in her path. My jog up the sidewalk toward her is purposeful, but when I’m beside her, I don’t know what to say.
