{"id":3745,"date":"2019-06-11T18:48:40","date_gmt":"2019-06-11T18:48:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/floridareview.cah.ucf.edu\/?post_type=article&p=3745"},"modified":"2019-06-11T18:48:40","modified_gmt":"2019-06-11T18:48:40","slug":"rupture","status":"publish","type":"article","link":"https:\/\/cah.ucf.edu\/floridareview\/article\/rupture\/","title":{"rendered":"Rupture"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Rupture<\/h2>\n

Story by Eileen Herbert-Goodall
\nImages and accompanying text by Joe Maccarone
\nSound Track by Lhasa Mencur<\/h5>\n
\n

 <\/p>\n

Outside the window, rain obscured everything except the towering eucalypt. The tree was home to a pair of hawks and Janelle hoped they weren\u2019t getting pummeled by the storm. At times, she wished she could be like them, that she could sprout wings and fly away, if only for a while. She sipped her tea and struggled to collect her thoughts; lately, her psyche seemed split, her entire being ungrounded. She longed for answers that proved elusive. Sometimes, bad things happened and there could be no explaining why.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

Janelle drained her cup and placed it in the sink along with last night\u2019s dishes. Evidently, if she didn\u2019t do them, then they didn\u2019t get done. But there was no point raising the issue with Brian; she needed to pick her battles, to save energy.<\/p>\n

Almost a year had passed since the incident that marked their son\u2019s drastic and seemingly irrevocable changes, and still the doctors had no idea what was going on. Various terms had been mentioned in an attempt to identify his condition\u2014Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Altered Mental Status, Elective Mutism. They could call it whatever they liked, it made no difference\u2014so far nobody had managed to get Jeffery to speak again.<\/p>\n

Not even her, his mother.<\/p>\n

Shards of rain continued to strike the window. Outside, the eucalypt swayed; leaf litter scurried across the ground, hurled about by the wind, without free will. Was she any different?<\/p>\n

Janelle\u2019s husband entered the kitchen and she turned to see him making coffee.<\/p>\n

\u2018You taking Jeffery to the psychiatrist today?\u2019 Brian asked.<\/p>\n

\u2018No, I thought I\u2019d palm that job off to my assistant.\u2019<\/p>\n

He looked at her, teaspoon held in mid-air. \u2018Everything okay?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Not really. I\u2019d like you to come with us for a change.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I can\u2019t, got a huge day at work. Two open houses and a couple of contracts on the table.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018It wouldn\u2019t hurt you to be a little more involved.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Involved?\u2019<\/p>\n

A flush of pink crept up Brian\u2019s neck and Janelle experienced a jab of satisfaction upon realising her words had wounded him.<\/p>\n

\u2018Is that what you think? That I\u2019m not involved?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Even Doctor Berwick said she hasn\u2019t seen you in a while.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018When did she say that?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Last time we saw her\u2014a couple of weeks ago.\u2019<\/p>\n

He took a mouthful of coffee. \u2018Well, somebody has to go to work around here.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Excuse me?\u2019<\/p>\n

Brian held up a hand. \u2018That came out wrong.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s impossible for me to work right now.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I know.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Then why bring it up?\u2019<\/p>\n

He put down his cup. \u2018We need an income, Janelle.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019d just like you to come to an appointment every now and then. Is that so much to ask?\u2019<\/p>\n

They stared at one another.<\/p>\n

\u2018Sorry, but I\u2019ve got to go.\u2019 He retrieved his keys from the hook beside the pantry and disappeared into the hallway.<\/p>\n

\u2018Of course you do,\u2019 she called. \u2018And go to hell while you\u2019re at it.\u2019<\/p>\n

The front door slammed and she soon heard his car rumbling down the road.<\/p>\n

Janelle turned to look outside once more. From where it stood battling the elements, the eucalypt appeared to observe her.<\/p>\n

\u2018What are you staring at?\u2019 she asked.<\/p>\n

Its branches swirled on with admirable forbearance. Or was it disappointment?<\/p>\n

\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

At first, he simply drew around the sides of a piece of paper\u2014a wolf\u2019s face here, a doodle there\u2014but after a while, he began to write.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

He read over the letter, then screwed it up and threw it into the little bin beside his desk. It was baby-ish to write about the noise inside his head. Stupid.<\/p>\n

Jeffery stood, walked to the window and looked outside. He wanted to run around in the rain and let it wash the bad memories away. If only the wolf-men would leave him alone.<\/p>\n

Doctor Berwick had brought a colleague into their session\u2014one Professor Lycan from the Institute of Psychological Studies, who was apparently researching \u201cunusual\u201d psychological childhood conditions. Janelle wished Doctor Berwick had sought her permission to have this man present. Even a little warning would have been nice. She didn\u2019t like the idea of Jeffery being observed by someone she didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n

The professor\u2019s hair, along with his neat beard, was gray-white. He wore round, steel-framed spectacles and sat scribbling in a notebook that rested against his legs. The sound of his pen running across paper seemed to fill the room. So far, he had said very little.<\/p>\n

Jeffery stared at his shoes. Janelle could feel the tension emanating from his little body. She wondered if the doctors felt it too. Probably not. They weren\u2019t attuned to him the way she was.<\/p>\n

\u2018And there\u2019s been no change in his behaviour?\u2019 Doctor Berwick was saying. \u2018No indication he\u2019d like to interact more?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Not particularly,\u2019 Janelle said.<\/p>\n

\u2018He\u2019s still doing his drawings?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes. \u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018That\u2019s good.\u2019 Doctor Berwick glanced at Professor Lycan, who continued to write with feverish intensity. \u2018It\u2019s vital that he has a creative outlet, somewhere to express his feelings, so to speak.\u2019<\/p>\n

The professor looked up from his notebook. \u2018Mrs Watson\u2014\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Please, call me Janelle.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Alright, Janelle\u2014Jeffery is twelve years old, correct?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018And how would you describe your relationship?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018What do you mean?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Would you describe Jeffery\u2019s attachment to you as positive?\u2019<\/p>\n

She tilted her head. \u2018Of course.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018What about the relationship with his father?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Brian works full-time, but when he\u2019s home they get along well. Why do you ask?\u2019<\/p>\n

The professor placed his writing materials on a nearby desk. \u2018Studies have shown that parents of behaviourally inhibited children often perceive them as vulnerable. Such perceptions can influence how they engage with their children.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018How so?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018For instance, parents who regard their children as socially withdrawn often endorse practices that discourage independence and exploration.\u2019<\/p>\n

Janelle held the professor\u2019s spectacled gaze.<\/p>\n

A clock on the wall ticked.<\/p>\n

\u2018Are you suggesting my husband and I are overprotective?\u2019 she asked finally.<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019m sure the professor is simply trying to get an idea of Jeffery\u2019s life at home,\u2019 Doctor Berwick said.<\/p>\n

\u2018His life at home is fine. I take it, Professor, you\u2019re aware of the incident my son and I witnessed around a year ago?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Doctor Berwick has filled me in on that history, yes.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018That history, as you call it, is where the problem lies,\u2019 Janelle said. \u2018Before then, he was a content, happy boy. He attended school, enjoyed play-dates with friends. He spoke. But after that day, everything changed.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018No doubt there\u2019s significant traumatic residue associated with that event,\u2019 the professor said. \u2018But Jeffery needs to realise that what happened is in the past. He needs to make peace with the bogeyman.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018The bogeyman?\u2019 Janelle was at a loss as to why the professor would refer to the stuff of folklore and scary night-time stories when discussing her son\u2019s condition. It was 1987, not the Dark Ages. Surely he understood that what Jeffery had seen was terrifyingly real.<\/p>\n

\u2018I think Professor Lycan means we want to create a safe environment in which Jeffery is encouraged to face his fears,\u2019 said Doctor Berwick, \u2018to understand that what happened was an extremely unfortunate, one-off event.\u2019<\/p>\n

Wasn\u2019t that what she\u2019d been trying to do? To make sure he felt safe? To make sure the goddamn bogeyman didn\u2019t, once again, come in and blow up his world.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u2018May I ask Jeffery to do something?\u2019 the professor said.<\/p>\n

Janelle crossed her arms. What was she supposed to say? \u2018Okay.\u2019<\/p>\n

The professor grabbed his pen and notebook and passed them to Jeffery. \u2018I believe you like to draw.\u2019<\/p>\n

Jeffery nodded.<\/p>\n

\u2018How about you draw whatever comes to mind when you think of that day at the bank. You remember that day, don\u2019t you?\u2019<\/p>\n

Another nod and then Jeffery opened the notebook. No one spoke as he tended to the task at hand. Janelle shifted in her seat as the clock on the wall continued to tick.<\/p>\n

A few minutes later, Jeffery placed the notebook on the desk and dropped his gaze to the floor.<\/p>\n

The professor retrieved his notebook and studied the image. He then handed the notebook to Dr Berwick, who examined it briefly before passing it to Janelle.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

There had been two of them: they\u2019d burst into the building screaming orders, shotguns raised, their faces hidden behind strange wolf masks. The first man had hurried towards the counter and started yelling: \u2018Everyone get down and don\u2019t move.\u2019<\/p>\n

Janelle kept still, her face pressed to the floor. Jeffery lay nearby, eyes pinned open by toothpicks of terror.<\/p>\n

\u2018Open your drawer,\u2019 the first man said. \u2018Get the money out. Come on. Put it in the bag. Now.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Okay, okay,\u2019 the attendant said.<\/p>\n

\u2018Come on. Money in. Move it.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019m trying.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Shut up and move.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019m going as fast as I can…\u2019 the attendant said, fumbling with the bag, \u2018…doing my best.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Christ, shut up. Or you\u2019ll get a bullet in the brain.\u2019<\/p>\n

It occurred to Janelle that perhaps she was having a nightmare, that her psyche was drawing upon some movie she\u2019d seen, or a story she\u2019d once read. Maybe it was all just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.<\/p>\n

\u2018Sorry,\u2019 the attendant said. \u2018This has never happened to me before. I\u2014\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018You wanna die?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018No, no, I don\u2019t.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Then stop talking.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Sure, okay. I just\u2014\u2019<\/p>\n

The sound of a gunshot bounced off the walls, reverberating in what was otherwise a terrible and gaping silence.<\/p>\n

\u2018What the hell?\u2019 The second man strode towards the counter. \u2018We said nobody shoots.\u2019<\/p>\n

The first man answered: \u2018You heard him\u2014he wouldn\u2019t shut up.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Jesus! Grab the bag and let\u2019s go.\u2019<\/p>\n

Janelle watched Jeffery, who now had his eyes squeezed shut. She would do anything\u2014anything\u2014if only he were kept safe.<\/p>\n

The second man began shouting orders: \u2018Everybody stay down and no one else gets hurt.\u2019<\/p>\n

Before long the men had fled through the building\u2019s front doors, and the horror was over. Or so Janelle thought.<\/p>\n

She glanced from Doctor Berwick to the professor and back again. Janelle felt somehow responsible for what she was looking at, for the memory that had scarred Jeffery\u2019s mind. But what could she have done? How could she have possibly foreseen events set to unfold that day?<\/p>\n

The professor took the notebook from Janelle and turned to Jeffery. \u2018You must have been very scared.\u2019<\/p>\n

Jeffery shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u2018Do you see such wolf-men very often?\u2019<\/p>\n

He nodded.<\/p>\n

\u2018In your mind?\u2019 The professor pointed to his temple. \u2018In your dreams?\u2019<\/p>\n

Another nod.<\/p>\n

\u2018Sometimes I have bad dreams, too\u2014everyone does.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s not from a dream,\u2019 Janelle said. \u2018The men were wearing wolf masks.\u2019<\/p>\n

The professor continued to focus on Jeffery. \u2018Well, you know what?\u2019<\/p>\n

Naturally, Jeffery didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n

\u2018Those bad men aren\u2019t coming back,\u2019 the professor said. \u2018They\u2019re in prison and they\u2019ll be there for a very long time.\u2019<\/p>\n

Janelle was certain the offenders had never been apprehended. What, exactly, was the professor up to? \u2018I think Jeffery\u2019s had enough for today.\u2019<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/div>\n
\n

 <\/p>\n

The professor stared at her. For a moment, she thought he would insist upon having them stay, so he could continue studying them as he might have studied curiosities at a freak show.<\/p>\n

Instead, he said, \u2018It\u2019s been a pleasure to meet you both. I hope we can talk again.\u2019<\/p>\n

She rose to her feet. \u2018Come on, Jeffery. It\u2019s time to go.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Thanks for coming in.\u2019 Doctor Berwick stood and clasped her hands together. \u2018Be sure to make another appointment, won\u2019t you.\u2019<\/p>\n

Janelle kept quiet as she led her son from the room. Who would they turn to now?<\/p>\n

By the time they arrived home, the day had cleared. After lunch, Janelle took Jeffery outside. There was a pond in the back garden and he enjoyed playing near its edges. As they approached the eucalypt, she spotted something on the ground\u2014a nest, and beside it an empty egg. She wondered about the baby bird and scanned the tree, but saw only leaves and branches. Jeffery squatted down to survey the damage.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

After a while, he looked up at her. He seemed neither upset, nor surprised, by what they\u2019d found. Janelle took him by the hand and they continued on.<\/p>\n

When they reached the lake\u2019s edge, Jeffery crouched to inspect the water. He\u2019d linger there for hours given the chance, and Janelle would have been happy to let him. Truth be told, she dreaded her husband\u2019s return from work every day, the forced conversation, the awkward silences. She only ever managed to relax when he wasn\u2019t around. Then again, maybe she really had become selfish and difficult, as Brian claimed the other night.<\/p>\n

She sat on the garden seat facing the pond. Shafts of golden light shifted upon the water.<\/p>\n

As was often the case when she had time to think, Janelle began to mentally list the potential reasons as to why she and Brian had grown apart. To begin with, they hardly had any common interests. Years ago, they\u2019d enjoyed sailing\u2014that was how they\u2019d met\u2014but the hobby fell by the wayside after Jeffery came along. Their financial situation certainly didn\u2019t help; the real estate agency had been struggling for months and money was tight. Then there was Jeffery\u2019s refusal to speak, which had been a tremendous strain on them both. And yet, he wasn\u2019t to blame for their problems; he was just a scared, young boy who\u2019d been damaged by the world.<\/p>\n

In any event, it seemed neither she nor Brian had the courage to voice the truth: their marriage was in trouble. It was easier, she suspected, for them to pretend that the benefits of their relationship outweighed the drawbacks. Besides, they needed to consider Jeffery; keeping their homelife on a relatively even keel was essential to his wellbeing. She watched as he skimmed stones across the lake\u2019s glassy surface. She had failed once to protect him, but wouldn\u2019t do so again. Not if she could help it.<\/p>\n

Later, as they walked to the house, Janelle again inspected the eucalypt. There was still no sign of the hawks.<\/p>\n

Janelle placed their meals on the dining table before pouring them each a glass of water. Jeffery gave a smile, which she knew was his way of saying thank you. Brian continued to scan the real estate section of the newspaper. She sighed, but he gave no sign of having noticed.<\/p>\n

She sat and began to eat. Janelle had experimented with a new casserole. The recipe promised to deliver “a knock-out punch of flavor”, but she thought it tasted bland. Then again, maybe the problem rested with her. Perhaps she had lost the capacity to enjoy anything.<\/p>\n

At last, Brian put down his newspaper. \u2018How did it go today?\u2019<\/p>\n

For some reason that she couldn\u2019t identify, Janelle felt the need to make her husband work to deliver meaning. \u2018How did what go?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Jeffery\u2019s appointment?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018It went smashingly well. Thanks for asking.\u2019<\/p>\n

Brian thumped the table, making Jeffery flinch. \u2018What\u2019s gotten into you?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I don\u2019t know what you mean.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes you do. I can\u2019t do a thing right these days. It\u2019s as if my very presence offends you.\u2019<\/p>\n

Janelle realised this was quite possibly true\u2014maybe she couldn\u2019t stand being around her husband anymore. She began to clear their plates. \u2018Actually, your presence would have been very much appreciated today.\u2019<\/p>\n

He leant back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. \u2018I want you to be happy\u2014I want us to be happy\u2014but I don\u2019t know what to do. I don\u2019t know how to fix things.\u2019<\/p>\n

Janelle couldn\u2019t think of a response. She knew Brian was trying to move forward, to take a step in terms of bridging the yawning rift that stretched between them, yet her instinctive reaction had been to freeze. She seemed unable to reconnect on any level. Perhaps she\u2019d become accustomed to their dysfunction, maybe even addicted to it.<\/p>\n

In any event, the moment passed.<\/p>\n

\u2018I work hard to pay the bills,\u2019 he said, \u2018to keep a roof over our heads\u2014\u2019<\/p>\n

Janelle returned to the table. \u2018Oh, that\u2019s right, I don\u2019t work.\u2019<\/p>\n

And there it was\u2014the relentless merry-go-round of hurtful misunderstandings and accusations that swept them up in its momentum, again and again.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u2018I never said that.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018But it\u2019s what you meant,\u2019 she said.<\/p>\n

\u2018Why do you always twist my words?\u2019<\/p>\n

Jeffery jumped up. \u2018Stop,\u2019 he said. \u2018Just stop.\u2019<\/p>\n

Janelle stared at him, transfixed. It was as if Jeffery were the only person in the room, the only person in the world. His expression, pleading and distraught, swamped her vision. She knew she should say something. Anything. But the shock of hearing him speak had struck her dumb. Slowly, she rose to her feet.<\/p>\n

\u2018Son?\u2019 Brian said.<\/p>\n

Jeffery turned and walked away.<\/p>\n

Janelle watched his receding form, then met her husband\u2019s gaze. His face was filled with pain…and something else. Relief? Hope?<\/p>\n

Moments later, Brian trailed after their son.<\/p>\n

She started to follow, then stopped. She needed time to process what had happened.<\/p>\n

Janelle crossed the kitchen and peered out the window. Silent and watchful, the eucalypt stood looking in. Upon one of its branches, two small shapes sat huddled together. She watched them for a while and then returned to the table once more.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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