Chapter 14 – [December 10, 2001]
Seattle winters rarely see snow. They do, however, see relentlessly reappearing rain showers that chill to the bone. On the final Monday before Christmas vacation began, the cold drizzle cut Jordan to the core as she quickly walked up the path to the impressive glass and steel entrance of BCS.
Over the preceding several weeks, the tall girl with the shameful secret had had more than her share of traumatic life-events. Between the bedwetting, sleep apnea testing, drug-store diaper trips, bullying at school, stress with her father’s affair, and the ‘wicked stepmother’, it had been easy to be distracted from the news about the NPR story competition she had entered. It had only been during those late lonely hours at night or boring hours in class that her mind had wandered back to the subject – I wonder what’s happening with my story? When will I hear something? I’d like to hear some news at all; ANY news!
That particular Monday morning before Christmas break, the tall brunette decided to approach her increasingly aloof English teacher for better or for worse. To her surprise, as had happened once before, when Jordan asked Mr. Johns if he’d heard any updates, he only offered a goofy grin and said that she’d have to wait. Jordan assumed that that once again meant good news – and that like before, it’d be delivered at the end of class.
This time around, she didn’t have to wait that long.
During attendance and announcements, Mr. Johns happily declared, “Class, I’ve received some exciting news about one of your fellow classmates – and she hasn’t even been let in on it yet. About a month ago, someone in this room submitted a short story to that NPR competition I told you all about.” Students in the room looked around in confusing but also smiling and eyeing each other. Jordan’s heart began to beat harder.
“Well, over the weekend, I got a letter in my box saying that this student’s story has advanced in the competition to the second round!!” An audible gasp was heard throughout the room as kids looked more expectantly around the room. Jordan’s heart was beating rapidly and her face flushed. She could hardly smile she was so excited.
Is it mine? She wondered, Could it really be my story that won?
“This student, from 7th grade here at BCS had her’s,” He said ‘HER’s’ Jordan thought excitedly to herself, “was the top story chosen from the State of Washington and our local NPR affiliate wants to record her reading it’s own version of the story on the air for it’s local show in the next couple weeks!” Students in the room were giddy with excitement.
“Who is it?” some exclaimed.
“Tell us Mr. Johns!!!” others shouted.
“The name of this particular secret and talented author is…,” he waited, attempting to build anticipation, “Ms. Jordan Reynolds.”
Another gasp of shock reverberated through the room as all eyes moved to the tall brunette in the corner. She smiled brightly – her face as red as stop sign and sweat beading on her forehead.
Before either she or Mr. Johns had any time to say anything however, Jordan’s classmates burst into applause, conversation, smiles, encouraging laughter, and kind gestures. They seemed genuinely excited for her and the news. Jordan herself felt as though she was going to faint. Part of her had known that this was going to happen, but part of her couldn’t believe that it was finally becoming real. She felt proud and happy and terrified and shy all at the same time.
This probably means they’re all gonna read my story now – that’s kinda a terrifying thought.
After class, Mr. Johns told her about how NPR had already called and left a message on his machine about getting the story recorded for airing on the radio – they wanted it to happen that week with the holidays approaching.
“So do you think you’ll really want to do the narration yourself or have one of NPR’s DJs do it for you? Either way is ok I guess.” He asked.
“Wait, what? I have a choice?” she replied, thinking rapidly wondering whether or not she ought to try to get out of it.
“Well, when we make it to Washington D.C….,” wait…I guess I should say “if” shouldn’t I?, the teacher thought to himself, “they’ll have professional actors reading your material for you. But here in Seattle, the station needs to get your story into audio form as soon as possible and so it actually gave you the choice. It needs to be recorded one way or another by someone reading it aloud. You can do that if you want or we can just have someone at NPR do it. What’d’ya think?”
“Oh…hmmm,” the thought of reading it herself sounded scary but strangely exciting, “…I think I’ll do it.”
“Cool. Alright well I’ll get something set up and let you know.”
“Ok.” She said, turning to walk out of the room.
“And Jordan?” He said – the tall girl looking over her shoulder in response. “Congratulations!! I knew you could do it!!”
She smiled, “Thanks Mr. Johns!”
Sally spent Monday morning thinking about the previous evening.
When her daughters had arrived home from their father’s apartment Sunday night, Sally had seen the oldest rush silently from the cold gleaming black car parked out front clearly in distress. Quickly she had learned that her sweet girl had been in search of Mommy’s loving touch. With the other two girls left behind and Ted looking flabbergasted, embarrassed, and confused on the front sidewalk, Sally had heard the twelve year old tear through the house on her search, leaving the front door wide open.
Oh no, what happened? Sally had thought, they must’ve been at each other’s throats all weekend!!
She had been in Jordan’s (and now Mindi’s) room straightening up when the girl had burst through the door and literally jumped into her arms, legs straddled around either side of her waist, and long arms wrapped around her back. Sally had quickly lost her balance and fallen back on the bed under her adult-sized pre-teen daughter’s mass. Jordan had completely collapsed her full body weight into her Mom’s care. It had been a maneuver Sally might’ve expected from the 2 ½ year old (and more easily manageable) but from her 145lb twelve year old, it was a shock not only physically, but because of the emotional turmoil it clearly represented.
Turning to the side on the bed, Sally had stroked her girl’s hair and rocked her back and forth tenderly. Jordan had clung tightly to her mom in the same position, shaking slightly. Not wanting Ted to see Jordan in that state, Sally had whispered softly to Jordan that she had to momentarily take care of her sisters…that she promised she’d be right back. The regressed-girl had resisted and Sally had become slightly firmer with the instruction before prying her way from Jordan’s death-grip.
Once Sally had returned to the bedroom (after having received a passing report from her estranged husband and setting up the two other girls in the living room with toys and a video), Jordan appeared to be in the fetal position in bed mumbling and rocking herself. Once sally had sat back down and begun rubbing her daughter’s back once more, she had heard the substance of the mumble.
“I’ll never go back…I’ll never go back…I’ll never go back…I’ll never go back…I’ll never go back…” Jordan had repeated over and over again without hardly taking a breath. Eyes wide open, glazed, and looking straight ahead.
What in the…? What did they do to her? This is ridiculous. Sally had thought to herself. Right now clearly isn’t the time to interrogate, but I AM gonna get to the bottom of this.
For twenty minutes or a half hour, Sally had massaged her daughter’s back, stroked her hair, and patted her hip as she lay silently and rocked. Even though it had only been 6 in the evening, the sun had long been down in the Seattle winter and so Sally chose to slowly begin moving – motherly and tenderly (but cautiously) getting her daughter ready for bed.
Because she hadn’t known what had happened, Sally didn’t know how Jordan would react to the kind of help that she had been giving in the weeks prior – but in her current state of apparent stress and shock, Sally figured she’d be fine to proceed. After Sally had carefully closed the bedroom door for privacy, her girl hadn’t resisted or moved a muscle to help in the process of disrobing from shoes to parka…or from diapering. The only reaction Sally had noticed before she tucked the hapless girl in under the fluffy white bedspread was a single tear running down her cheek as Sally had gently taped up her soft diaper.
Almost instantly as Sally had quietly closed the bedroom door, her affect shifted to rage.
That man – ooooohhh!!! – THAT MAN!!! She had steamed and shaken her head as she walked back down the hall.
Ted had chosen to wait around in the living room for Sally, door still open and spilling cold wet Seattle air into the house all that time. The two younger girls had been bustling around the living room and Jen’s bedroom, aware that something was wrong with Jordan however not sure exactly what.
“We’ll talk later Ted. Just go,” Sally had said calmly, surprising even herself, “I’m gonna say some things I’ll regret if you don’t.”
Ted blurted out, “I’m filing for divorce Sally.” The two were standing in front of the two girls; only Mindi pausing to look up.
She had frozen; skin turning pale and clammy; eyes moistening.
Waiting for him to say more but seeing nothing, she had choked out, “So that’s it then?”
“That’s it,” he had said and walked away into the night.
The younger girls had shed a little more light on the scenario in “Ted’s” apartment that weekend when they had asked Sally about Jordan.
“Mommy is Jordan sad because she got in trouble?” Mindi had asked splayed across the couch thumbing through a book.
“What’d’ya say honey?” Sally had had to do a double take on the question, “Was Jordan misbehaving or something?”
“Well – why’d she have to go to bed so early last night? And why was she so mean to Mommy Melissa? Did she do—” Mindi had asked innocently before being cut off.
“WHAT DID YOU CALL HER?!!?!” Sally had been caught off guard by the term of endearment for the adulteress.
“Mommy Melissa. Jordan was real naughty to her; she talked back and she didn’t obey and she wouldn’t let Mommy Melissa change her diaper…”
Sally had taken a deep breath and attempted to keep calm…closing her eyes momentarily, she placed her hands on the seat of the black leather couch beside her. That woman is not my girls’ ‘mommy’. She had no right to try to ‘change’ Jordan’s diaper. What the fuck!? Ted you bastard! Stand up for your daughter for once in your fucking life!!! She steamed as her mind turned rapidly.
“Yaw Momma – Jowden wuz reaw nawty – I luuuv momma mewissa – I luuv u momma…” Jen had chimed in trying to support her sister’s story. Although she was quite young herself, Jen too had witnessed the tension between Melissa and Jordan that weekend.
The picture had begun to clarify in Sally’s mind. Ted was trying to replace her in his own new little family system. The youngest two were far too young to see through it. Jordan, for all her confusing behavior and cycles of maturity and immaturity, could easily spot the dysfunction and clearly that had been the source of the friction.
Poor dear; she must’ve felt completely alone; totally abandoned all weekend.
Sally had stayed up most of the night praying and meditating and writing and scheming and preparing for the storm ahead.
I need to be soft and strong and confident and kind and wise and many other things through this time. This will be hard. Ted is a crafty political tactician – I need to be ready for what he will have planned.