Wrongful Indignation

“Do not let the sun go down on your anger.”
- Ephesians 4:26

“Sam? Sam!” Her voice floated down the corridor toward me in shrieking, panicked tones. I sighed; another moment or two and she would round the corner, find me standing by the boys’ toilet, and then reprimand me for wandering off alone. Her reaction had become an expectation. Twelve years old and still I had to be escorted to the toilet, not to mention the cinema, the library and almost any other place crowded with adults. I wasn’t even allowed to visit Charlie – my next door neighbour – without her explicit permission. It was a nightmare. While the neighbourhood boys were allowed to play hockey until the street lights turned on, I had a strict curfew of five o’clock, only extended to six during summer holidays.

As she shouted for my stepfather and sister I rolled my eyes and started back along the corridor to the concession stand. After we had purchased tickets, she had left for the theatre to save four seats by the exit door while my sister, stepfather and I had waited in the concession line. Feeling the need, I had abandoned the line and snuck away to the toilet for relief; at the same time I supposed she had returned and, noticing my absence, commenced panicking.

I saw her dash around the corner, tears clouding her wide, scared eyes, and rush to seize me in a strangle hold while muttering about how worried she had been. “Sam, you have to remember never to go any where in public alone! How many times have I said that to you?” She gently combed my bright, orange hair with her hands and then embraced me tightly once more.

“Multiple times,” I murmured, trying to free myself from her grasp.

“Denise?” I heard my stepfather call, “did you find him?”

“Yes, Alex! We’re coming now!” She yelled back, wrapping a firm hand around my shoulder and steering us back to the concession stand. Just as we reached Alex and my sister, a group of four giggling teenage girls walked by, heading for their movie. I stared at the popcorn strewn carpet, trying to hide my freckled face as it slowly turned a deep shade of pink. This was so embarrassing. Denise continued to hover, shooting nervous glances at me every so often, as we made our way to the theatre.

“Robin, is this okay?” Denise quietly asked so as not to disturb people watching the previews, “can you see alright if we sit here?”

My sister wheeled herself into the handicapped spot and grabbed the popcorn from Alex’s hand. “Of course, Mum, just sit and enjoy the movie.” She smiled, patting the seat next to her and Denise sat, pulling me down beside her. Alex stifled a chuckle and took the vacant seat next to me.

When the movie let out I was the first out of the theatre, still furious that Denise was so overbearingly protective. I waited impatiently for the crowd to disperse and my family to appear; when I saw their faces Denise looked frantic as usual. She grabbed my hand, which I tried unsuccessfully to free, and we left the cinema. Alex unlocked the van, and I jumped in the back seat, waiting while he and Denise helped Robin out of her wheelchair and into the seat adjacent to mine. I glowered at the darkness outside the window as we drove home, ignoring everyone’s attempts to obtain my opinion on the movie. I wasn’t in a talkative mood.

By the time we reached our three story house I was tired, enraged and extremely vexed. I hurried to the front door, not bothering to ask if Robin needed assistance, unlocked it and sprinted up the two flights of stairs to my bedroom. I made absolutely sure Denise was in the house and listening before I slammed the door with as much strength as a twelve year old could muster. After five minutes of standing with my arms folded across my chest, scowling at the door, I sighed and shuffled my way over to the window seat. I sat, staring up at the millions of tiny, bright lights littered across the sky and at the moon as it reflected shadows off the oak trees onto the lake below. Not a breath of wind disturbed that lake, giving off the illusion of solid glass. It calmed me, the lake, with its peacefully still waters under the shine of a white moon and the friendly, twinkling stars. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling and exhaling with the slow metronome of the analog clock on my night table.

Peering at the clock, I discovered that it was nearly twelve; my bedtime was over two hours ago. I stole one last glance at the calming scene outside my bedroom window and walked over to the wardrobe to find my pajamas. I had just finished undressing when I heard my name in hushed voices coming from the room one floor below mine. I pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of checkered pajama pants and quietly tip-toed to the landing, eavesdropping on my parents’ conversation.

“No, Alex,” Denise’s voice said, “I don’t feel comfortable with that. It’s not safe for them to be alone yet.”

“Denise, Robin is seventeen –”

“And in a wheelchair -”

“Regardless of whether she is in a wheelchair or not, you can’t deny her the right of sleeping over at a friend’s house when she’s able to,” Alex said exasperatedly, “You have to give her the chance of a semi-normal teenage life. She’ll be perfectly all right if Sam’s there with her.”

“I don’t have to let her do anything, Alex! She’s my daughter and Sam’s my son!”

“Did you forget that I signed those adoption papers two months ago? I’m part of this family too, Denise! Do I not have some say in raising our children?”

“Not in this matter! You let Robin go with her friends without asking for any information and look what happened to her!”

“Don’t you put all this on me! If you had forewarned her that it was dangerous for women to walk across dark parking lots alone -”

“Enough, Alex! I can’t change the past but I can prevent the same thing from happening to Sam! They aren’t old enough to sleepover at a friend’s house without the parents present! Besides, what about Sam’s somnambulism; he could hurt himself!”

“What do you think is going to happen, Denise? You know Sam has had that well under control since he began the stress treatment and we’re only a phone call away if they need us.”

“No, Alex, I expressly forbid them from going and you, as their father figure, have to be behind me on this!”

I was livid as I listened to their conversation; tears began to fall down my cheeks as I realized Denise would never allow me to sleepover at Tim’s house. I had been looking forward to this event for a week, excited at the prospect of escaping her clutches for a while. I thought, since Tim’s elder sister had invited Robin as well, Denise would let me go. I never realized someone had let on their parents were out of town that weekend.

I stomped back to my bedroom, angry with Denise once again, and slammed the door behind me. I didn’t care whether they heard me or whether I’d disturbed Robin’s sleep; it wasn’t fair. I threw the quilt down and jumped into bed, pulling the sheets up to cover my body. I frowned into the darkness, cursing Denise and how she treated me like a seven year old.

“I wish you’d just die,” I whispered into the silence as my tears spilled onto the pillow, “then I wouldn’t have to deal with the embarrassment or disappointment anymore.” A short, blinding flash of light crossed my window and the wind picked up, making the trees tap against the panes of glass in a soothing rhythm. Assuming the prior was a couple of car headlights, I drifted off into a deep and restless sleep.

“Sam! Sam, wake up! Your mother’s been injured!” I rolled over quickly at the sound of Alex’s terrified voice.

“What s’matter?” I slurred, trying to wipe the sleep from my eyes.

Alex picked me up and helped me stand, wobbling, on the floor. From the light of the corridor, I could just make out his pale, frantic face and the dark circles under his eyes. “It’s your mother, she’s been seriously wounded. The ambulance is here, Robin’s already loaded into the van, and we need someone to go in the ambulance with Denise. Do you think you could, Sam?”

I nodded and ran for a pair of jeans as Alex took off down the corridor to the stairs. I met him at the front door not five minutes later and he hurried me over the threshold out to the ambulance. As soon as I caught sight of my mother I became numb; I didn’t hear anything as the paramedic helped me into the ambulance. She was already on a stretcher, bleeding, with needles puncturing her body sending her different supplements from each clear tube. I sat and stared fearfully as the medics tried to keep her stable. I saw the huge cuts on my mother’s arms, neck and the top of her chest and had to look away from her.

“Sir?” I turned to the paramedic driving the ambulance. “H-how did this happen? Did Alex say – did he see…?”

“He wasn’t sure; he claimed he was sleeping on the couch, woke up with a bad feeling, went to check on your mum and found her like this. Do you know anything?”

I shook my head slowly and turned back to my mother. I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me, how I didn’t mean it when I said I wished she would die, that I forgave her for embarrassing me, but the words got caught in my throat. My vision became fuzzy and tears began to roll down my cheeks for a second time that night. I reached my hand up to wipe them away, knowing I had to be strong for her. Just as my hand passed my nose, I smelled something metallic and faintly putrid; wrinkling my nose in disgust, I inspected my hand. When I discovered the culprit of the scent my whole body began to tremble and my eyes widened from shock and revulsion. There, beneath the whites of my fingernails, were thin, scarlet lines.