Awake in Hell (11 page)

Then
I get angry. Why would he have to come here? Is it because of the suicide, because
he would rather be dead than continue to live as the emotional punching bag for
his own mother’s venomous abuse? Is it because his mother wished it on him? And
if so, where will she end up? I’ve met more people down here in the last few
days than I ever would have thought I would meet and the funny thing is a lot
of them — most of them — seem like decent people. I know I’ve said it before
but it’s worth repeating. This place sucks! I’m planning to talk to
Deedy
about this. Not that I think he has any actual
authority, but I have to talk to someone about it and he seems better at
accepting my venting wrath than most.

Hazel
is being endlessly patient with Buddy. She’s a picture of sympathy. 
Stroking his back while he talks on and on and smiling while she cups his face
in her hands, pulling him in for a hug every once in a while. And he seems to
be responding well. He’s actually starting to smile. And occasionally even
laugh.

Fuck
me RUNNING!

What
is going on in the back of my cab? “Okay kids!” I say with just a bit of panic.
“It’s time to end this magical ride, so I need a destination from both of you.
Buddy? Where to? Hazel? You seemed to really want to get somewhere when I
picked you up.” Neither of them is listening. Hazel has morphed into a school
girl before my very eyes.

“I
was just so silly. I thought I needed to assert my independence by only making
myself available to unavailable men. But I missed out on the greatest part of
finding someone new,” she’s telling Buddy.

“What
was that?” he answers.

Don’t
say it. Please don’t say it. She’s going to say it.

“The
chance you’ll find someone you can love.” she purrs at him.

I
slam on my brakes in the middle of the road, and take a tiny bit of delight
when both of their heads are thrown into the back of my seat with tremendous
velocity.

“Get
out! Both of you! Get the fuck out of my cab!” I can’t believe this is
happening. I’m screwed. Falling in love? In Hell? That’s got to be in the top 3
most offensive things that anyone could conceive. My job just turned into a
carnival goldfish you win for pitching dimes. DEAD IN THE WATER. I’m screaming
now. It’s my turn to come unglued. “I mean it! Get out!!”

Buddy
looks at Hazel. Hazel looks back all dreamy-eyed at Buddy. “I think we are
finally getting somewhere.” he says and they leave the cab together hand in
hand.

As
I watch them leave, I do have to admit that it seems like they are made for
each other. He’s got enough baggage to keep her psychologist chops sharp, and
he will adore her and only her, which is far overdue in her life. It’s not that
I’m against love. I just don’t want it happening on my watch.

“Louise?”
Tim’s voice comes through the radio. “I’ll need you to head back to dispatch
now.” I can tell he’s looking forward to seeing me about as much as he looks forward
to root canal.

“On
my way, Tim”

On
my way to get fired, again.

I
am currently sitting on a curb outside of the cab company holding my second
pink slip in as many days, staring down at the words “Terminated for
Facilitating Love.” How ridiculous is my life? Or my afterlife? I mean, really.
Who gets fired for facilitating love? I am feeling a bit sorry for myself. But
I actually feel worse for poor Tim. He looked like he was going to cry when he
handed me this slip. Poor, slow, sweet Tim.  I don’t care what terrible or
horrific thing he may, or may not, have done in life; he doesn’t, in any way,
shape, or form belong here. And he deserves a way better day than he had today,
Having
to fire the
Hellverse’s
worst employee ever. Before I left, he grabbed me and pulled me into a giant
bear hug, patting me on the back so hard, if I had anything stuck between my
teeth it would have dislodged it, better than flossing. Like I’ve said before,
human touch is very rare down here. However, awkward or uncomfortable that bear
hug was, it was also
kinda
cool,
 
pretty
much the coolest thing ever so far down here. Almost as cool as
Deedy
, but not quite.

Speaking
of
Deedy
, it is time for me to haul my sorry,
leather-clad, once-again-fired ass back into his office. I’m not really
sweating the whole telling him this time because I know he will be his usual
understanding self and probably be more interested in hearing about the little
girl and any uncovered memories than about my seeming
unemployableness
.
That’s pretty much the only thing that I’m not sweating in this ridiculous
outfit. I am starting to chafe and I still have about five blocks to go to the
Agency.

My
mind starts to wander as I begin my long, hot, thermodynamically challenged
walk. I start by thinking about
Deedy’s
reaction to
my losing, yet another job, and wondering if there will be another one behind
it.  I suddenly think, “It’s just like my Mom and Dad, always taking me
back.” From out of nowhere this is what fills my head, and all of the memories
that single thought brings with it.

Off
and on throughout my life, one of my parents would get the bright idea that
they were somehow enabling me, that my bad behavior was being reinforced by
their placid acceptance. Unfortunately for them, they never got that bright
idea at the same time. So, usually it would inspire a new round of “good parent
vs. bad parent” in which good and bad is entirely objective, and changes
considering your personal perspective. Oh, and it would spark the most wretched
fight nights I’ve ever remembered. My mom and dad were like something out of
the movies most of the time. High school sweethearts, married when they were
still technically teenagers, and have brought the other into every single
delusion since. Dad goes on a diet and Mom starts worrying that he’ll waste
away. Mom takes a Thai cooking class at the community college and Dad talks
about her like she’s being courted by the French Culinary Institute. If Dad
says the sky is green, Mom agrees. If Mom thinks that
Furbee’s
are little instruments of Satan, Dad is right on board with the idea. The
closest thing to an argument that, they would have under normal circumstances,
would be Mom’s rolling eyes or Dad’s criticism of a dry roast.

Enter
the “non-normal circumstances,” namely me. I was the only thing that could tear
these two incredibly silly, stupidly-in-love people apart. There were some
nights when I would lie in bed listening to them scream at each other, saying
unimaginable things. It was like in those moments they totally forgot they
loved one another. And the thing is, it’s not because one of them loved me more
than the other. It was because both of them loved me so completely, that
regardless of what side of the argument either of them were on at the time,
they were each willing to sacrifice the feelings of the other in order to
further their own cause.

Those
were the worst times of my life. You would think that the most horrible way you
could ever see yourself is through the eyes of someone who hates you. But you would
be wrong. I can tell you
this, that
it’s way fucking
worse to see yourself through the eyes of someone who loves you, really loves
you. Because that’s when you have to face the truth… that some people love you
in spite of who you are, not because of who you are. In the case of my parents,
that was abundantly clear. Even to me.

During
those times, I would have done anything to make them stop. Usually that meant
leaving. Sneaking out in the middle of the night.  Hoping that by the time
they figured out I was gone, they would have forgotten which side of the
argument each of them was on and just forgive each other. Sometimes I would
crash with a friend, but eventually Mom and Dad caught on. Starting the next
day, they would call all my friends until they found the one I was staying
with, and convince me to come home. So, I started wandering out further,
staying away longer. I knew that when I was gone they would worry, but not
fight. I was okay with that. I liked the idea of them having a normal life without
me coming in and screwing it all up. Ultimately it would be my love for them
that would drive me back.  That, and the need for a home-cooked meal.
Primarily, it was the fact that I missed them. So I would come back swearing to
them and to myself that this time would be better. This time there would be no
fighting because I wouldn’t give them a reason to fight. I would turn things
around and be a better daughter. Of course, that would last as long as it took
to score some blow, pick up some random loser guy, or get picked up at a party
by the cops. And the funny thing is, when I would get home and my parents would
have that resigned looks on their faces, I’d also see something else behind it.
Love.  Always love, my love for them and theirs for me, unconditional
love. And it could have killed them, it could have destroyed their marriage,
yet there it always was. It would have been so much easier if they just stopped
loving me or if I could have stopped loving them, become estranged and never
speak again. Over time, they would have been better off for it, no matter what
had happened to me. But, none of us could conceive of that kind of type of
love. That artificial, pretend love, that continued to haunt me in throughout
my adult relationships. Was it my fortune, or their misfortune, that I was one
of “those” kids, who was born to those parents?

The
long, hot walk to the agency, combined with the little side stroll down memory
lane, did make me much more melancholy by the time I got up to the 17th floor.
Gabby was waiting with a cup of glorious coffee. She handed it to me the second
I got off the elevator. “Hi
ya
, Gabby. Where’s Will
this afternoon?”

She
glided over to me and waved her hand dismissively. “He just hasn’t returned
from his morning assignment,” she said, as though it was nothing for me to
worry about.

“But
his morning assignment was following me at the cab company,” I said, with equal
nonchalance, although mine admittedly was a bit artificial. I was actually kind
of worried about the kid.

Gabby
looked at me as if I’d just grown another eye smack dab in the middle of my
forehead. “My goodness, you are smarter than you look, Louise,” she said, with
genuine surprise. Then she tossed back her head on that long glamorous neck of
hers and laughed.

Have
I mentioned that Gabby’s outfit has hardly changed since I met her? She’s
always wearing a different a dress, that much is obvious, but the general style
has remained the same. The same Donna Reed vibe day after day. I’ve always
wondered how she managed that. But, I have also learned that folks hanging
around the second chance temp agency rarely acknowledge, let alone answer,
personal questions. So, I’ve learned to put my curiosity away when I’m
here.  Just sit back, keep my big mouth shut, and enjoy the many perks of
employment by
Deedy
and company.  As if she was
reading my mind (which she probably was, the little minx), Gabby handed me
another fresh, steaming cup of coffee before she said, “Don’t worry about Will,
I’m sure he’ll be back before you are out of the boss’s office.”

“Yeah,”
I responded. “And this promises to be a marathon.” I sigh, heavily. “Is he in
there?”

A
voice comes booming from the back filled with humor. “Gabby, have you seen Louise?
Because being this is my office, I would assume she would come to see me and
not hang out in the lobby with the help. Wouldn’t you?”

Gabby
giggles, a bit girlish herself. What is it today with men turning women into
giant gigglers?  “Better get in there,” she said.

I
found myself smiling this time too, as I walked into
Deedy’s
office and announced, like it was a major accomplishment, “I got
shitcanned
again.” and tossed him a quarter.

Deedy
, was obviously amused. “My darling
girl, you seem to be taking this one better than the last.”

“Yeah,
well, I’ve learned there’s a lot more fucked up down here besides my employment
issues. Can we talk about Tim at the cab company?”
Deedy
rattles the curse jar and I deposit my penance.

“So…”
I say expectantly.

“We
could talk for years about Timmy, but nothing that will answer any of the
burning questions in your mind. Sorry, Louise. Can’t be helped. Let’s talk
about you, instead. I’m sure you’ve made some interesting discoveries, right?”

“No,
you can’t dismiss me!” I respond vehemently. “I get that I am not allowed to
ask
you
personal questions, or Gabby or anyone around
here, but there’s some things that I need to understand!” Even I can’t believe
that I’m being this demanding. I sit up straight in my comfy chair as if I am
harboring way more confidence than I’m actually feeling. I decide to also add
just a bit of manners in case it would help my cause, so I end with “Please?”

Deedy’s
voice is calm and
kind, and his eyes are soft, yet penetrating, as looks deep into mine. He even
leans a bit over the desk and it has the desired effect. I’m frozen in his
gaze. “No, Louise, you don’t. The universe, whether in life or the afterlife,
is filled with things you may not understand. It is not your job to know
everything. It is your privilege to learn what can be learned and to experience
what can be experienced. And, to decide what part you are supposed to play in
every situation, good or bad. Glean what you can, and leave the rest for
someone else.”