Accidental Hero

Chapter 1 A Place to call Home

It was finally time. All the pieces had fallen in place and I couldn't put it off any longer. It was the last thing I needed, between endless car pools, sleepovers, school functions and sleepless nights, it was just one more thing to add to my plate. I knew it would change things, the very heart of our routines would be altered, and I feared a change like this would be chaos. I didn't know anything about how to do this. I would see others doing it so casually, so easily. I really needed to get it together and prepare. There are people out there who can help me. I grabbed a piece of paper out of the glovebox and hastliy scribbled a note to call someone.

The screech of the school bell rattled me out my reverie. The iddling car warmed and waiting for my beautiful but precocious child. Morgan was so precious I ached at the challenges she faced. At 14 she was a long legged and long haired beauty. So many changes for her lately. She seemed unaffected by them yet I knew they had shaken her world. They had shaken both our worlds. New house, new school, no more Dad at home. The familiar stab of pain shimmered through me as I thought of Jason. God, how I missed him.

Children began flowing from the school doors in a tsunami of backpacks, layered jackets and denim. Such an awkward mixture of adolescence and adulthood. Shouts and laughter filled the air with movement and energy, picking me up along with it and propelling me forward. I instantly felt better, lighter, and marveled at the power these kids possess so unknowingly. I smiled to myself, allowing all that frenetic happiness to envelope me, hoping it could fuel the rest of my day.

Morgan jostled through the open doors at last, holding her viola case in front of her, protecting it from the crowd. Her auburn hair shined in the afternoon sun as she searched for the car. I watched her face transform into a wide smile, her brown eyes shining as she saw me. I felt like the luckiest person in the world.

"Hi Mom! Lets make the great escape and get outta here fast today, Ive got a ton of homework tonight and I want time to watch a new series Ive found. Plus, Abbys supposed to come over to help me study for a math test." Morgan said in a rush, shoving her instrument and backpack into the back seat.

"Will she be staying for dinner?" I asked "We're having pork chops."

"I dunno, her Moms bringing her over around 4 so probably. Can you give her a ride home when were done?" She asked as she slammed the cardoor behind her and reached for the seatbelt. Morgan knew if it involved homework I'd jump at the chance. Math was the thorn in her acedemic side and I felt proud that she'd taken the initiative to find someone to help her.

"Sure kiddo" I said, smiling inside and out.

The car ride home was quiet and uneventful. Morgan sat humming happily with her earbuds firmly in place. I thought back to the child she had been and wondered of the woman she was becoming. Through the many difficulties we had faced I began to feel this was becoming our golden time. The time in which life was full of opportunities and bursting with the burden of possibility. This change was going to be good for us. Morgan was going to be so surprised, for years she had begged me for one thing. Tomorrow she was going to get it.

I wondered how it would affect me. All my life I had been able to sense the emotions of others. My mother had always told me I was too dramatic. She would condemn my feelings as ridiculous and frivolous. She would lecture me endlessly about how I was just trying to get attention. The defining moment came when I was just 9 years old. Our neighbor Lucille had lost her brother in a car accident. Mom baked a casserole and together we went next door to offer our sympathies. Standing on their front steps I was stabbed with an intense feeling of grief, the pain wrapping itself around me so tightly I froze in rigid paralysis. Crying out in a great whoosh of air I began moaning and weeping in desperation. I didn't undertsand what was happening and fell to my knees scraping them both on the rough concrete porch. My mother stood staring at me in horror. Setting the casserole down she grabbed my dress and hauled me to my feet. Then came the blows, one after another she slapped my backside so hard I became stunned into utter stillness. 

"You selfish little brat! She wailed, "How dare you! This woman has been through too much to have you acting out and doing your little shows for attention. Get your sorry butt home right now!" The look of shame and contempt on her face was forever etched into the fabric of my childhood. That look became the template for my self image for many years and still comes to the surface in times of doubt or weakness.

That day left a sure impression that something was wrong with me. I was different than everyone else flawed and broken in some fundamental way. I had to learn to stop it somehow. I began to try new things to block these feelings. Running away only worked when I was home or outside. I tried biting my tounge, pinching my skin, pulling my hair to distract me from the rolling waves of emotions that crashed on the shores of my heart. I tried rhymes, saying them over and over in my head. I learned the waves lessened if I could narrow my minds focus to a single thread. Eventually I could manage these intrusive emotions. It took a while longer to learn to effectively hide their effects from others.

The overwhelming experience of large crowds still thrums through my defenses. I became one with the incredible binding power within a singing of the national anthem, the fevered applause after a moving drama, the hopeful exuberance after a successful election. I shuttered at the animalistic heartbeat of a rock concert, cringed from the angry righteousness of a political demonstration, or ran terrified from the predatory urges of a street gang. This world became an enormous noisy place with emotions flying like rockets from each of us every moment of our lives. Peace always the elusive stranger in an endless cacophony of emotional debris.

My life became molded by avoiding large crowds of any kind. When is the grocery store quietest? When is the doctors office the least crowded? When is the movie theatre empty? How to shop for everything on line. Friends were few and precious. Nature became my escape and my truest freedom. I began taking long car rides during breaks and summer months from college. I searched for a place to call home while lacing broad zig zag trails across America. I felt my way across this country first decrompressing from crowded classrooms then absorbing the energies and sentiments of entire cities, towns, and hamlets.

By the time I finished College, newly minted degree in hand, I ran for the hills. The beautiful rolling and rocky mountains of southern Pennsylvania. There rests small quiet towns and long looping roads filled with awe inspiring views. The people are a quiet and accepting population largely honest and independant. These folks tend to their own buisness, helping when needed, stepping back when not. Its not a joyous population but a peaceful one. They are pragmatic in their understanding of a job well done while focusing solely on the task at hand. I felt their appreciation of a beautiful sunset and their stoicism in the frigid face of a northern storm. Generally hardworking and seemingly standoffish, these folks feel things deeply, consider others in most things, and reserve judgements for the Almighty. It was exactly what I needed.

Once Abigail was returned home, dinner, dishes, and homework done, I settled into the quiet of a week day evening. Laptop on my lap I began searching for the information that would make tomorrow happen. Taking notes, writing down phone numbers, looking up reviews, listing all the supplies needed, it started to take form. This was going to happen. Why am I filled with such conflicting feelings? I trust my feelings to guide me through most of lifes changes and usually I get a clear impression one way or the other. Good or bad I can feel a gentle nudge pushing me to or fro. Not this time, everything feels all scrambled. I drift off to sleep no wiser than before. This is for Morgan and I'm not changing my mind