“Thanks for sharing with us, Michael. And welcome.”
Everyone, Michael included, turned to look at the woman seated to his left. She’s nervous. She’s a newcomer. She reaches for the hand belonging to the man on the other side of her for support. But she’s not uncomfortable. She might be nervous but it almost looks as if she’s smiling. Maybe she likes the attention.
“Well, I know my first thought was ‘can this really be happening?’ I’d heard about it often enough but I never thought it would happen to me right then. I don’t know, I guess I’m still sort of surprised I’m here. It’s like I keep thinking I don’t really belong here.” She glanced around at the people filling the circle. “I don’t really have a reason to be here, I don’t think. I’m just a visitor. I’m not a permanent feature, you know?”
People murmured in agreement. It seems everyone thinks everyone else is more permanent there than themselves. They’re all wrong.
She looks up now, smiling at the man who must be her husband.
“Thanks for sharing with us Anne. And welcome.”
“How does he know your name?” her husband whispers before realizing it’s his turn. Without waiting for her answer he says to the circle, “Our son has just come home from college. We were so excited. I guess we were being careless. We just wanted to celebrate. He just graduated. But I guess it wasn’t much of a graduation present.” Unlike his wife, he looks ashamed. He doesn’t enjoy attention as much as she does. He feels more shame.
“Thanks for sharing with us David. And welcome.”
David looked up and smiled. The guilt he’d felt had somehow melted away in sharing his burden with these people. He was welcomed here. The moderator’s words made an impact.
Now David turns to his left. A young girl is sitting in the chair trying not to be noticed. She glances nervously at David, hoping it isn’t her turn yet.
“I don’t really know where to start. My boyfriend dumped me yesterday. He met some cheap whore at a sandwich bar. I mean, come on, sandwiches? I wonder if she made some jokes about his salami or something.” She uncrosses her legs and crosses them again on the other side, folding her arms across her chest.
“My parents didn’t give a fuck. Like they ever did. I mean, they’re so out of touch they probably didn’t even know I had a boyfriend and if they found out they’d probably only care about if he knocked me up or not. Neither one of them has a heart so how can they understand if mine is broken?
“And yeah, I know, you’re thinking I was too… too rash… too over reactive. Well, I’m tired of people telling me what to do and how to be. I didn’t want to deal with the pain anymore. So I made the pain go away the only way I knew how.”
“Kelley, what you did was cruel. You can’t stay here.”
People murmured amongst themselves. This was different. This was new. Everyone was supposed to be accepted here. Why was she being rejected? Was she being punished? Was the only difference that she felt no remorse?
“So what am I supposed to do about it now? It’s water under the bridge and I guess you’re all stuck with me.” She grinned a grin that seemed both sardonic and practiced.
Softly, kindly, with a tone of love and support, the moderator said, “We all have choices. You made a poor choice. Choose differently this time.” And with nothing more than a brief look of surprise and bewilderment, Kelley was gone.
A small boy who has been sitting in the background came forward to take her chair. He looked a bit confused.
“Hi. I don’t really understand. I don’t know where I am. I was just swimming. I… I wasn’t swimming so well. I remember I was having trouble coming back up to the surface. Something was holding me down. Then I woke up here. Is this a hospital? Am I really supposed to be here? I don’t know why I’d be in a hospital. Nothing hurts. Am I going to go home?”
“No, Brandon,” the moderator told him. “There’s no need for you to go anywhere to be home. Thank you for sharing. And welcome back.”
*
Somewhere a woman screamed. “Push!” the midwives told her. “It’s going to be ok. You’re doing great. You’re doing great.” said her husband. She pushed. She screamed. Two and a half hours later she woke up from having passed out after the labor. She was still exhausted. It was a girl.
“She’s so beautiful.” Her husband was holding their new daughter and couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Have you counted her toes?” She smiled at her husband.
“Maybe once or twice.” He smiled at her. “There are ten, in case you were wondering. Fingers, too. What are we going to call her?” He had asked his wife about names for many months now but she had never been able to settle on one. But this time she had an answer. The name had come while she slept.
“Kelley.”
