It's a Long Way Back

A family works its way back from a terrifying event. How do they heal the wounds?

It's a Long Way Back

by

David Clase



         Danny watched his daughter sketch grinning penguins on the concrete with blue and orange chalk.  She was bent over her masterpiece like a seven-year-old Michelangelo.  Kat’s shoulder-length auburn hair shimmered in the sun, still wet from a quick dash through the sprinkler.  She wore her favorite bathing suit, the green one-piece with pink and blue flowers.  The strap had slid off her shoulder exposing a deep tan line that revealed a playful summer.  She must have surprised herself because she giggled unexpectedly and looked up to him with shining brown eyes.

         “Daddy, look.  I turned the sidewalk crack into iceberg houses for the peng’ins.” 

            “Looks terrific, honey,” he said giving it the briefest glance.  “I'm running around back for a minute.  Remember to stay out of the street, Kat.” Five minutes earlier she’d thrown a fit when she’d realized penguins were not really orange and blue.  His wife would be throwing the fit if he didn’t finish moving the mulch off the driveway before he headed to Jack’s.  Jules was already ticked that he chose the Kentucky game over a family night.  As he rounded the corner of the house, he noticed a grimy, olive colored truck turn onto his street.  Its side mirror twisted inward and its rusted rear fender squeaked as it drove over the uneven pavement. 

         From the back yard, he noticed the truck’s engine seemed to be idling too long in front of his home when it should have been half way down the street.  He began walking back to investigate and when he heard an unknown voice and then his daughter’s voice in reply, he picked up the pace.  Kat’s devastating scream sliced the humid air and boomeranged around the stone walls of his home, launching him into an all out sprint.

            He vaulted the retaining wall and ran back to the front lawn.  The truck picked up speed and he clambered through the weeds of the vacant lot next door, trying to intercept it.  He heard the air rushing in and out of his chest and the acceleration of the truck’s engine but he couldn't hear his daughter.

            Tall grass grabbed at his ankles and tangled his feet.  He stumbled and fell to one knee.  The truck was three blocks away when it turned left and vanished.  He ran back to the house shouting indiscriminately to anyone who could hear.  Jules appeared as he was grabbing his phone and keys. 

         “Christ, Danny,” she said, “What’s wrong?”

         “Somebody took Kat!” 

         “What!?  I don’t understand.  What do you mean?”

         “Call 9-1-1.” 

         He left her standing in the front yard.  He called 9-1-1 himself and stayed in contact with the police as he searched but the chase was fruitless because the truck was gone.  After two hours of driving in circles the dispatcher finally convinced him to go home.  The amber alert had been released, she’d said, and all available officers were searching.  She told him he’d be more useful with his family.

         He’d been huddled in the living room for sixteen hours with Jules and Mandy, Kat’s nine-year-old sister.  The frenetic questions and crushing emotion had eventually succumbed to overwhelming silence.  A detective named Jansen was with them the entire time but he had kept to himself, preferring to camp out in the kitchen and provide occasional updates.  They were infrequent because, as he readily admitted, he had very little to report. 

         Jules was on the couch, rocking back and forth.  She kept her eyes closed as she spoke.

         “What’s the last thing you heard her say, Danny?”  She asked, interrupting his thoughts. 

         “I don’t know.  I couldn’t hear what she was saying to the guy, just her voice.”

         “I don’t mean then.  I mean the last time you talked to her.”

         “Something about penguins.  She was drawing them,” he replied.  Jules was looking at him now.

         “Damn it.  I want to know the last words she said to you.  Be specific for God’s sake.” 

         “Jules, I’ve told you everything I know.  Everything I can remember, at least ten times.  There’s nothing more to tell.”

         “My daughter’s gone!  I don’t know if she’ll be back!  So I don’t care if you’ve told me fifty times.  A thousand times!” Jules shouted.  “I want every single detail, Danny.  Again!” 

         “Fine!” He said.  Jules had begun to cry again and was shaking her head when he finished.

         “She’s seven years old, Danny.  Why did you leave her alone?  What were you thinking?"

         “I wasn’t thinking, ok? Is that what you want me to say, Jules?  Feel better?”  He spoke in a low, hissing voice, trying to avoid drawing Jansen’s attention.  Mandy looked back and forth between her mother and him.  Her eyes were blue oceans of fear and her face was splotchy from crying. 

         Jansen rushed into the room.  All eyes turned to him, startled by the intrusion. 

         “They have Kat,” he announced.  “She’s at St. Francis and she’s safe.  The doctors are examining her now.” 

         "Oh dear God.  Thank you," Jules exclaimed.

         "Can we go see her?" Mandy asked tentatively.

         Danny closed his eyes and said a silent prayer.  He heard Jules sobbing quietly but didn't go to her.  The morning sun filtered through the window creating geometric shapes against the furniture.  Dust particles flickered in the rays of light disturbing the room’s stillness.  He looked from Detective Jansen to Mandy and then to Jules.  It seemed like there should be jubilation but something was broken. 

         As he followed Jansen and his family out to the car, Danny glanced back into the room.  Three plastic horses that Kat had left grazing by the fireplace had been knocked over during the night’s activity.  He should fix them before Kat sees them, he thought.  Then he shut the door.

         They brought Kat home that same evening.  She had deep purple bruises running the length of her left arm and on her right shoulder and a significant cut above her left eyebrow.  The doctors concluded that she had not been physically harmed in any other way. 

         Kat hadn’t spoken a single word that night and for over a week now, she’d been completely unresponsive.  She ate if food was offered.  When Danny or Jules asked her to use the bathroom or go to bed, she obeyed.  They all tried to engage her in conversation and games but she refused every time, choosing to sit silently on the living room sofa, staring at the fireplace.   

         Yesterday, Kat unexpectedly walked over and began to play with the plastic horses.  She went to the horses again today and he and Mandy joined her on the floor.  They each had a horse and were maneuvering them through a jumping course they’d constructed with wooden blocks.  The front leg of Kat's horse was lifted in a prance and the three remaining legs were unstable.  She tried repeatedly to balance it on the carpet but it kept falling over.  Kat uttered a shrill and frightening cry.  "Bad horse!" she shouted and sent it cruising through the air where it crashed against the rough brick of the fireplace hearth, chipping its ear.

         “Kat, what in the world?”  He asked.  He instantly regretted raising his voice but it was too late.  Kat’s eyes filled with wetness and tears streamed quickly down her face.  She shrunk into a fetal position on the floor, her hands covering her ears.  The commotion drew Jules from the kitchen and when she saw Kat’s state, she rushed over, grabbed her daughter and cradled her in her arms.

         “You’re yelling at her now?” she asked.  “That’s brilliant, Danny.  I’m sure that will help the situation.”  It felt like a slap in his face.  He’d faced it time and again since Kat’s abduction.   

         “I don’t need this crap,” he shouted and swept his hand out sending the remaining horses scurrying across the carpet, causing Mandy to begin to sob alongside Kat.  “I’ve had enough of your condescending attitude.  I didn’t yell at her, I just raised my voice.  And I didn’t even mean to do that.  It surprised me, that’s all!”  He grabbed his jacket and made his way to the door.  “I’m going out for a while.”  He looked at his girls.  “I’m sorry for raising my voice.”          

         It was cool outside and the air, though still filled with the smells of summer, hinted at the change of season to come.  Things were going to hell.  He couldn’t fall asleep in his own bed, staring at his wife’s back, enduring her silence, so he’d spent his nights on the same sofa that Kat spent her days on.  Jules hadn’t asked him to sleep elsewhere but she hadn’t asked him back either.  They’d been married twelve years.  Even before all of this, he'd been scared that their comfortable, yet un-stimulating existence was all they had to look forward to.  Now, he wondered what was to come of it all since it appeared that any remaining admiration and confidence she’d had in him was lost. 

         He seemed to be losing his wife.  His daughter was found but she couldn’t talk, and God only knew how this was affecting Mandy.  He glanced back to the front porch and the three silhouettes in the window.  He really didn’t know how to make any of it any better. 

***********

         



         Autumn had taken root and the sun pitched its brilliant rays against the red and gold leaves of the maples.  Sitting on the front porch, he watched as Kat swung on the old tire that hung from the gnarled branch of the ancient sycamore.  Chatter from the swallows resting from their southward journey added to the blissful landscape.  A small squirrel across the road had caught her attention and she was watching intently as it hunted for its winter stash.  Her movement was sluggish and he thought the soundless space that encircled her exposed the hypocrisy of God’s beautiful day.  There was a scar on the sycamore that betrayed a wound from many years ago, healed but not forgotten.  He wondered how large his family’s wound was and how deep and lasting their scar would be.

         An uproar from inside the house shook him from his brooding.  The shouting became louder and Jules assaulted the screen door in a desperate effort to get it open.

         “Where’s Kat?” she said, her voice high in pitch.  “Danny – I can’t find Kat anywhere!” 

         “She’s right over there, Jules,” he said.  “I’m watching her swing.”

         “But she was in the dining room with me.  I left her there to get the dishes and told her not to leave.  When I came back I didn’t see her.”  He looked closely at his wife.  The small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes that once spoke of laughter and sweetness now appeared sorrowful.  Her radiant smile and bright, intelligent eyes had dimmed.  And, although things had begun to improve, he thought those eyes still betrayed her disappointment in him.

         “She’s right there,” he said again, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen over her eye.

         “My parents will be here soon,” she said, gazing out towards Kat.  “I need to finish setting the table.  Please keep her in your sight, Danny."  She walked back into the house. 

         The advancing afternoon sun had moved the sycamore’s looming shadow closer to the tire so that Kat now plunged back and forth between light and dark as she swung. 

          “Kat.  Time to come in now, sweetie,” he called.  "You can watch TV if you like.”  He watched as she disentangled herself from the tire swing, one leg at a time with the comedic awkwardness that only young children can pull off gracefully.  He didn't think she even saw him as she walked past.  Her pink corduroy pants were smudged at the knee from the dismount.  He started to tell her but let it go as she silently walked through the open screen door.

         Inside the house, he busied himself tidying the living room.  Ellen, Jules’ sister, was in the kitchen with Mandy.  She was cutting tomatoes while Mandy tore lettuce and washed it in the sink.  Tonight had been Ellen’s idea.   

         “We need a family dinner," she'd said.  "I know we’ve been ‘checking in’ a lot to see if you’re ok but  I’m guessing you’re getting sick of all the random ‘checking in.’  It's time to move on and an old-fashioned family dinner is as good a place as any to start.  It will be good for Kat."  He’d agreed with her at the time but now he wondered if it might be too soon. 

         Ellen was forty-two, single, and one of those people who were blessed with supreme confidence and perfect timing.  It was like some higher power constantly whispered in her ear, telling her what to say.  She probably had insecurities and fears like the rest of us but he had never seen them.  When the world was crumbling, Ellen was there more than any other.  He had opened up to her during a couple of long private talks after Kat’s return.  She’d shown compassion and understanding and there was no blame.  He had often wondered how Ellen would have handled this if it had been her daughter.  He was certain it would be different than Jules. 

         Sitting on the floor, he stacked the disheveled picture books and returned the Lego’s to their box.  He gently pushed Mandy’s half completed jigsaw puzzle under the couch.  Three days ago, Kat had helped Mandy with the puzzle for about ten minutes.  When she couldn’t place any pieces she moved on to something else and they all breathed a sigh of relief when no tantrum came.  Progress, he thought. 

         He heard Mandy’s voice from the kitchen.

         “Why doesn’t Kat talk anymore?” she asked her Aunt. 

         “Kat will talk again when she’s ready,” Ellen replied. 

         “Daddy says the man hurt Kat,” she said.  “Aunt Ellen, do you think he hurt her in the throat somehow?  Is that why she can’t talk anymore?”

         “No Mandy.  I don’t think so.  I think Kat just got scared.  Now she needs to be quiet for a while, until she’s ready.  Do you understand?” 

         “I guess so,” she said.  After a pause she continued, “I want her to talk, though.  She hardly ever wants to play anymore and sometimes she gets so mad.  It seems like everyone's always mad.  Are you sure it will get better?"

         He didn't hear Ellen's reply because the doorbell rang.  It was Jules’ parents, Frank and Donna.  He let them in, gave Donna a hug and Frank a customary hand shake. 

         “Hi Danny.  How are you?  How’s Kat?"

         “I'm fine Donna, thanks for asking. Kat's about the same.”

         “She talking yet?”  Frank asked.  He was never much for words and when he did speak it was typically in these short, staccato sentences. 

         “Not really,” he replied.  “A word here or there when she's angry but nothing more.  The doctor said it would take time.”

         “What was that problem they said she’s got?” Frank asked.

         “Selective mutism."  Frank waved dismissively.

         “They got a psycho-babble word for everything these days.”  . 

         “Well, call it what you want,” he replied.  “But we’re all after the same thing.  What’s important is that we don't force her.  Therapy’s an option later but for now, we let Kat recover at her own pace.”  Frank looked skeptical but nodded his agreement.

         “So where are my little angels anyway?”  Donna asked.  “And where’s Jules?”

         “They're all here.  Kat’s upstairs with Jules getting ready.  Come on in.  Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”

         Seated around the table, everyone became silent and looked at Danny expectantly.

         “Bless us O Lord, and these thy gifts,” he began.  They finished the prayer with a collective Amen and Jules began passing the food.  There was pleasant chatter all around as the family filled their plates.  Kat appeared relatively content.  She loved garlic bread and was chewing a small bite as her eyes bounced from one family member to the other, listening.  The conversation continued peacefully for the next twenty minutes or so.  Ellen talked about her newest hobby, photography.  Jules shared her latest classroom drama in which one of her third-graders had called her a name and then thrown a huge temper tantrum.  Evidently, the counselor was called to help and it had been quite a scene. 

         Danny began to think the dinner might work out ok when Frank turned his attention to Kat.

         “So, Kat,” he said.  “How’s your day?  You do anything fun, honey?” 

         “Dad, not now.” Jules glared at her father. 

         “For God’s sake, Jules.  I’m just asking how her day was.  If nobody’s talking to her, it’s no wonder she hasn’t spoken yet.”  Kat was looking at her grandfather.  Her expression was difficult to discern but the dark brown pupils looked shadowy and had become large enough to nearly fill her eyes.  It was as if she were staring ahead but looking inside herself, watching a raging battle.  Answer your grandfather; it’s what a seven-year-old is supposed to do.  Don’t talk yet, you’re not ready.  He wanted to strangle Frank for setting off this internal tug of war.  “What’s the matter, Kat.  Cat got your tongue?”  he added, chuckling.  “Get it?  Kat and Cat?”

         “Grandpa, that’s mean.  Kat can’t help it and you shouldn’t say things like that!”  Everyone, reflecting a mixture of expressions, looked at Mandy.  The heat of those stares whether critical or compassionate reddened her cheeks and rapidly melted the rebellious look in her eyes causing her to focus on a few remaining peas that lingered on her plate.

         In the hush that followed, even the clanking of the silverware against the plates stopped.  A long minute passed.  Then, Ellen didn’t just break the silence; she crumpled it up like a wad of paper and threw it out the window.

         “Hey girls,” she said.  "Did you ever notice that Grandpa has lips like Bozo the Clown?”  Danny looked at her incredulously, amazed at the irreverence of her statement.  Then he glanced at Frank and saw Ellen’s brilliance shining once again.  Frank’s lips did indeed resemble Bozo the Clown.  And his face, already pink from his granddaughter’s reprimand, was turning a deep burgundy, advertising those lips like a neon billboard.  He couldn’t tell whether it was irritation, embarrassment, or shame driving the rush of blood to Frank’s cheeks but Ellen’s well placed jab had delivered the desired effect.

         Mandy began to giggle.  He could tell she was trying to stop.  Kids seem to know at some instinctive level when laughter is inappropriate.  But, unable to hold it in, the pent-up delight burst out in a show of hilarity that made the whole thing a marvelously theatrical display.  And Kat was smiling too.  Her smiles actually turned into giggles and the giggles had sound.  Not words but sound.  It was the first happy sound they’d heard from her in six weeks.  The giggling was contagious and soon they were all laughing out loud.  Even Frank, Bozo lips and all, found himself letting go, shaking his head while he chuckled.  It was over in a matter of minutes but something felt different.  It was as if something had clicked back into place. 

         The rest of the dinner was pleasant.  Jules and Ellen served coffee.  Mandy proudly served desert by walking around the table and giving each person a brownie, making sure we all noticed how grown up she was.  Frank was subdued, content to eat his brownie quietly using nods and shrugs instead of words whenever they served the purpose.  Kat finished her dinner in silence. 

         After dinner, at the front door, Frank paused for a moment with one arm in his jacket sleeve, one still out and stared at an invisible speck on the floor. 

         “Sorry I upset everyone,” he said.

         Jules sighed.  “It’s ok, Dad.  The dinner was nice.”

         “Good night, Frank,” Danny said and then turned to his sister in law.  “Thanks for pulling this together, Ellen.  Let’s do it again soon.”

         He and Jules watched as the two cars pulled out of the driveway.

         "He’s such an ass sometimes,” Jules said.  She looked distant but after a few moments she added, “He loves her though, I know he does.”  He placed his arm around her waist and nodded, permitting her spoken thoughts to hang alone in the air.  They shared a few minutes in silence, watching the taillights retreat and disappear.  “What comes next, Danny?”  She said.  “Where do we go from here?”

         “With Kat, you mean?

         “With Kat.  With you and I.  The whole family, I guess.”

         “I don’t know what comes next, Jules.  But I do know we have to hold on to each other.  Tightly.”  Then he added, “And, we lock your father up in a closet next time he visits,” which made her smile.

         Eventually, Jules moved upstairs to help Mandy get ready for bed.  He returned to the wicker chair on the front porch, a heavy jacket wrapped around him.  Kat came out to join him.  She sat in an oversized chair with green and black plaid cushions that engulfed her little body.  Her legs were drawn up and hidden under a purple fleece jacket.

         “Pretty good lasagna,” he said and after a moment added, “Grandma’s brownies weren’t too shabby either.”  She was staring out over the lawn toward the road and the evergreens beyond.  The ephemeral yellow glow of the porch lamp lit her face.  He struggled for something to say that would break through the barricade that surrounded her.  No revelations came so he told her she was special and that they all loved her.  What he really wanted to say was that he was sorry; that he should have been there for her.  That notion still troubled him and he was sure it always would.  But he didn’t say those things.  She didn’t need to hear them.  She already carried a very heavy weight. 

         Kat’s lips curved downward and a solitary tear ran down her cheek.  He tenderly wiped it away and she responded with a tentative, forgiving smile.

         “You should go to bed now, Kat,” he said.  “It’s getting late.  Head on up and I’ll be along in a minute to tuck you in.” 

         He looked out again across the yard to the old sycamore tree.  The tire was at rest now, no wind or children to set it in motion.  The rope holding it was big, almost two inches thick.  It looped twice through the tire and was tied with a double square knot.  It was old and frayed but the knot looked strong, like it could stand up to anything the world could fling at it.  The light in Kat's bedroom came on and he rose to move inside.  It’s like we are all hanging on to that tire, he thought, flying frantically to the top of its arc, praying to God that the knot will hold.

         When he turned around, Jules was standing at the door, watching him.

         “Danny," she said.  "After you’ve tucked in the girls, why don’t you come up to bed.”