By the end of July, Michelle felt that she was accomplishing nothing, and a depression was in the process of overwhelming her.
Maries health was not improving as quickly as the girl had anticipated, the boys were still involved in tensions, and Jeans salary was not sufficient to pay for food, house bills, and now medicine. David tried to help by weaving his way into an under the table dishwasher job, but what he earned just about paid for a bottle of aspirin. And Michelle continued to dip into her personal savings account to pay for her board as well as to help with the doctors and medicine.
However, the reason for the darkness that rumbled in her soul had nothing to do with those things. Her problem was with her father, or rather, with her unresolved anger with him. The more she thought of him, the angrier she got; the angrier she got, the more depressed she felt.
I cant continue like this, she finally decided. I have to do something to get this out of my brain. I have to face him and tell him how I feel.
Two days later, on Saturday, she drove to the state prison. Although the institution was just two hours away from Mapleview, the ride seemed endless. By the time she arrived at the visitors lot, she considered making a U-turn and heading back home, but she changed her mind as she spotted a parking space. It was very narrow and she let out a few choice words as she wiggled her car in-between the two trucks that blocked her view on both sides.
Once settled in, she languored in the car for ten minutes, going back and forth with the option of leaving. Finally, she got out and struggled up the cement stairs.
As she followed the guard to the visitors section, her thumping heart and her tic-tacking high heels competed for attention in the long, echoing corridor. Why am I doing this? Maybe I should go back. No. I have to do it!
Then the guard opened the thick door that led into a small room where a few straight chairs were settled in front of a counter that ran the length of one wall and separated the visitors section from the prisoners cubicles. It was lined from top to ceiling with prison bars through which the visitors and inmates could communicate.
The muddy green walls and the cool, concrete floor only aggravated her mood as she picked the chair at the first station and sat down, her crossed leg kicking back and forth and her hands and feet getting clammy.
Finally, the door to the cubicle opened and Elphge walked in. Now that he was so close to her, Michelle noticed how the lines on his face gave him a severe look and how his narrow eyes, peeking through slits made her feel uneasy. This is not how she remembered her father and she wondered how this could be. Had he changed that much? Or had she idealized him that much?
As soon as he sat across her, he extended his hand and said, Michelle, my little Michelle.
She did not return his gesture. How are you?
Could be better. They dont serve booz here. he quipped.
Michelles face was enough to tell him that she was not impressed with this unconscionable attempt at wit.
He scratched his forehead. Well, you sure have grown, little girl. Turned out to be real pretty. Hows the big boss, Lena?
Shes fine. Shes been very good to me, Michelle informed him curtly.
I suppose so.
Long pause.
Dont you want to know how Maman and the kids are doing?
He started to turn his head from left to right. Sorry, I do this a few times every hour. Muscle problem. Sure. How are they?
Michelle was ready to get up and scream. You dont even look concerned. Dont you think of anyone but yourself?
He stopped his neck rolling and looked at her. Of course, I do. So, tell me. How are they?
Mamans not well, but the boys are fine. Immediately she added, They will survive.
I doubt it. Marie needs me too much. Too bad they had to stick me in here for so long, hey?
His words hit Michelle like stones. Have you no heart? Is that all that you care about: that Maman be dependent on you? Is that why you married her? Didnt you love her?
Hey! Sure I did. But growing up and having a family is not just about love. Sometimes its there, and sometimes it aint. I did what I had to do, and so did your mother. Now shes alone. Nothin I can do about it. They should have thought of that before giving me six years. Anyhow, it aint my fault if shes like that, so dont come accusing me of things.
Michelle put her two hands on her stomach. I feel nauseous. She waited as the bile finally quieted.
Why are you here sounding like you do? Elphge snapped and then seemed to be thinking. Is it because you were sent to Canada? I had nothin to do with that. In fact, I couldnt believe it when they told me my little girl was gone. I was mad like hell.
Michelle got up and stared at him. Is that so? Then why didnt you write to me? Maman did!
Come on, Michelle. You know I dont write. I sure did miss you, though.
Right! And, by the way, what about that nice present that you were going to give me in the chicken coop? Why didnt you send it to me? A nice present from my loving father. That would have been really nice to get when I was so far away from home!
He put his elbow on the counter, scratched his head and stared at the counter. I dont know what youre talking about.
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