Morningstar: Chapter 24: Resilience

 

Chapter 24: Resilience

 

          That night was my most intense dream so far, at least that I could remember.  Alan, Cara, and what appeared to be the seven-year-old Tye and five-year-old Mia were all there at the beginning.  I spoke with each of them individually.  Cara gave me a hug and I remember her whispering; “we look forward to seeing you again.” I then lowered myself into a squatting position and gave Tye a hug and kiss on the forehead.  All the sudden I found myself five years old again and throwing my arms around Mia.  It felt like we were the best of friends, like I had known her my whole life.  Immediately I felt a surge of jealousy that Beth had those years with her and then I thought how silly that was.

           Suddenly, Beth, D’Lisa, Amanda, Mia, and I were all together.  We were about fifteen or sixteen years old, hanging out in the mall, just being girls. We ran into two of Beth’s other friends, Jacklynn and Alesha.  We talked for a few minutes, then Alesha and Jacklynn left the mall.  The other Lings were gone from this part of the dream.  The five of us got something to drink and some fries and sat down in the food court.  I remember D’Lisa had a diet coke, Beth a root beer, Amanda sprite, Mia lemonade, and I had an Italian soda.  Everything was good… everything was fabulous.

           As we were talking, mostly about boys, Amanda, and I both noticed Bekah, panicked, running into the room from a long dark hallway.  As soon as she noticed us, she slowed to a more controlled quick walk, lifting her head… and nose, and grabbing a newspaper which had been left on a nearby table, she walked up to the five of us.

           Addressing the five of us, she asked, or rather said; “you don’t mind if I sit with you,” as she grabbed a chair from a nearby table and placed it between me and Beth.  Without saying another word, she immediately buried her face in the newspaper she had picked up.

          The next thing I remembered was Carl running into the food court turning his head and yelling; “I didn’t say anything.”  Sid came running after Carl carrying a handgun.  He pointed the gun, and I heard a loud pop or bang.  Carl fell dead, I don’t know how but I just knew he was dead.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two other people, one man and one woman in a shadow by another hall leading to the food court restrooms. Both of the two people in the shadows also had guns, which they quickly put away as soon as Carl fell.  Bekah was trembling; but didn’t say a word; she just buried her face deeper into the paper like she might somehow crawl inside.  Some people in the mall were screaming.  Some were turning their tables on their side and ducking behind them.  None of us moved.  It was like we were petrified with fear and couldn’t move.  Then Sid spotted Amanda and me and turned his gun toward us. Before we could react or Sid could pull his trigger, I woke up screaming.  Not wanting anyone to hear, I immediately pressed both hands over my mouth until my screams turned to hyperventilation.  I knew my mom would want to talk about it if she heard me and that was the last thing I wanted to do, at the moment.  Maybe she’d even want me to see someone and I sure didn’t want that!

          It was only two in the morning, so I made a futile attempt to breathe deeply, think happier thoughts, and get back to sleep.  Within about an hour I had given up, gotten up, and started reading my history.

          Having slept little, I was still pretty tired when I got to school.

          Monday morning meant Mrs. Jennings and English first hour.  She had decided that since so many in the country were struggling, she wanted us to write a five-page double spaced paper on challenges either we, members of our immediate family or some of our ancestors had gone through.  She emphasized that it couldn’t be a current struggle, it had to be about something in the past that had been overcome ore resolved.  She called it, “resiliency.”  A few of the papers would be picked to read to the class.  That left out my move to Logan or anything about the Lings, Charlie, Sid, or Bobby.  I wouldn’t want to share anything about any of that with Mrs. Jennings, let alone the whole class.  Other than our current financial problems or maybe living with a brother with Downs and a myrid of health problems, I couldn’t think of anything and those were both ongoing too.  Besides, I thought to myself, T.J. wasn’t really all that bad.

          By the time I got to lunch Amanda, D’Lisa, and Beth had all received the same assignment from Mrs. Jennings and were all saying it would be easy.  Bekah was noticeably absent from the lunchroom; but the rest of her klatch were there.  Some actually looked kind-of lost without her.  A brunette with long curled brown hair by the name of Cynthia appeared to be trying to take charge.  The four of us finalized our plans for Friday, finished eating and departed for our next class.

          That night I had another very strange, really even more bizarre than strange dream.  It was early in the morning and I could hear a horrible blizzard outside.  The winds were howling.  Just the sound made me shiver uncontrollably.  When I woke up, wondering if perhaps there had actually been a storm, I looked out my window and it was calm and quiet with no new snow and not even a cloud in the sky.

          Tuesday morning, I sat with Amanda in Mrs. Young’s class.  Bekah was missing again; but Amanda said she heard Carl’s funeral was later that afternoon.  Amanda and I ate lunch together, Beth was sitting with some other friends and, to both mine and Amanda’s astonishment, Tom had asked D’Lisa to eat with him (Tom has always been so shy and awkward around her) and the two of them were off in a corner. 

          “So, how’s things at your house?”

          “Not so good.  They were talking then one of them said something that made the other one mad and talk turned into fight.”

          “You’re kidding.  I thought…”

          “Me too; but mom left last night and went to a friend’s.  My mom can blow up at the littlest things, but it’s not all her fault.  They still might work things out.  Beth’s parents invited them to spend a couple days at the cabin in a couple weeks.  They’re both still planning on going.  Maybe that’ll help. I don’t know.”

          “Sorry.”

          “Me too.  It’s hardly ever quiet at my place.  My dad and I have so much family around here, there’s people in and out all the time.  Sometimes my mom has a hard time with all the family.  I hope they can work it out.  Maybe they need to move someplace away from here; but I don’t think my dad would ever do that.  There’s lots of older relatives that kind-of depend on him.”

         

          That evening I asked both my parents if they had any stories I might use for my English paper, which was due the following Monday.  To my surprise my mother pulled out an old family bible I had never seen before and which had information about some of her ancestors.

          Nothing of real significance happened the rest of the week.  Beth ate with Amanda and me one more time and with her other friends the other days.  We only saw D‘Lisa at a distance during lunch the rest of the week but did talk with her during school a few times.  She and Tom had become an item; but she was still planning on spending Friday night with us.  Bekah was back on Thursday, but she seemed different, in an unexpected sort of way; but then what did I really know to expect.  After all, despite the things she told me, Carl must have still been kind-of like a father.

          Everyone arrived about the same time Friday night.  Beth brought a couple sacks with things from home.  Said she was going to make something for us and put the sack in the fridge.      

          When Amanda reminded me, we were going to visit Mrs. Pearson first, Beth said; “let’s make cookies to take over.”

          “I don’t know if we have everything we need for cookies.”  Nobody in our family was really into making cookies, in fact I couldn’t remember anyone ever even trying.  Not even my grandmother.  She was a great cook but didn’t really bake much.  Probably one of the reasons she stayed so thin all her life. 

          “Do you mind if I see what you’ve got?” she asked.

          “Go right ahead.  Everything we’ve got is right there in the cupboards and fridge.” 

          D’Lisa started talking to me about Tom while Amanda helped Beth look for ingredients.  After just a few minutes, Beth triumphantly announced; “we’ll have to substitute a little here and there, but we’ve just got enough for peanut butter oatmeal cookies.”

          “I’ve never heard of peanut butter oatmeal cookies.” said D’Lisa.

          “We’ll, that’s part of the substitution,” responded Beth with a grin.  “Do you guys wanna help?”

          “Sure, we’re in,” responded D’Lisa as she grabbed my arm and pulled me to the kitchen table.

          It was actually kind of fun… really.  We each had just one when they were done.  They were warm and delicious. 

          Amanda commented; “this is what I call comfort food.”

          We put most the rest on a paper plate covered with aluminum foil, put our coats and boots on and headed to Mrs. Pearson’s.  My dad was in the living room playing a game with T.J., and my mom was reading in her chair.

          “Bye mom, bye dad, bye T.J.,” I said while everyone else said goodbye as we left the house.  “We’re taking some cookies over to Mrs. Pearson’s.  Be right back.”

          My dad just chuckled and said, or rather commented; “good luck with that.”  Despite the light sarcasm, I knew they were both glad to see us going to visit her.

          “Oh, and we made cookies.  Most of them are going to Mrs. Pearson’s but there’s two for each of you on the table.”

          “You made cookies?”  asked my mom. 

          “Beth was in charge,” I assured them with a chuckle.

          I closed the door behind us and we all walked over to Mrs. Pearson, introducing Beth and D‘Lisa when we arrived.

          Mrs. Pearson made a rather odd comment while I was introducing D’Lisa to her.  “Oh, my dear.” she exclaimed, “you could be such a pretty girl.”  I know we were all taken aback and surprised at her remark; however, it was obvious she was elated to have us visit.  After we were all seated, she offered some cookies which were already on her coffee table.  I was sure I saw paw prints next to the cookie plate.  We all just smiled and said, “thank you.”

          Amanda, who was carrying the cookies we had just made, handed our plate to Mrs. Pearson and said, “we made these for you.  We hope you’ll like them.”

          “Oh, thank you dears,” she responded.  “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that man I saw you with the other day.  A nice police man came over and visited with me about him.  Who is he?  What was he up to?”

          “I don’t know much about it, I think it might have had something to do with the Lings,” was all I said. 

          She just responded with a long, “hmm.” I’m sure, her imagination was going wild with the possibilities.

Either Molly or Jack or both were having extremely noticeable gas issues.  Mrs. Pearson apologized and put them behind a little gate in the kitchen.        

          “They’ll be fine in there for a while,” she said.  I keep their food and water in there; but they usually sleep with me.  We like to snuggle to keep each other warm, especially on these cold winter nights.”  After smelling the gas, I was kind of repulsed by the thought of sleeping with either of them.  “So, what are you girls doing in school these days?”

          “We all have a big English paper due Monday,” responded Amanda.  “We have to write about some big problem or some kind of struggle a family member overcame.  Our teacher called it resilience.”

          “Oh, that sounds so interesting.  Tell me what each of you is writing about.”  As soon as Mrs. Pearson said that I remembered my dad’s off handed comment, ‘good luck with that!’

          “I’m going to write about one of my Nez Perce ancestors,” responded Amanda.  “He was in the Nez Perce war.  My dad told me about it and gave me some books.  The government made them leave their lands.  Some old man was killed by a white guy, then somebody teased the old man’s kids about it, and they went and killed the white guy.  The Nez Perce didn’t want a war but were kind of pushed into it.  They won most of the battles, but just wanted to get out of the US and into Canada.  It’s a long story, but they got caught in a place called Bear Paw Montana.  Most of the chiefs were dead.  Chief Joseph distracted the army so that some of the people could make it up to Canada.  One of my ancestors was one of the people who made it to Canada and then eventually back to the reservation in Idaho.”

          “I remember reading about that dear.  I always felt so bad about what happened to them.  Didn’t know any made it up to Canada.  Some of my family used to live up in Canada, I think it was Toronto.  Maybe they ran into each other.”  Then turning towards D’Lisa. “And you, dear, what are you writing about.  You know, you remind me of my sister Elsa.  She was a little full figured too you know; but not near as pretty as you.”

          The bewildered expression on D’Lisa’s face clearly said; ‘thank you for another dis;’ but she was gracious and just let it go.

          “I’m writing about the Lemhi,” said D’Lisa.  A lot of my ancestors were Lemhi Shoshone.  They were called sheep-eaters or salmon-eaters.  For some reason, some of the Shoshone, were called by what they mostly ate.  Anyway, big horn sheep and salmon were two of their main foods.  President Grant had given them a reservation up in Idaho, close to Salmon; but the government took it away in the early 1900’s.  Some of the Lemhi are still trying to get their lands back and go home.  I’m also writing about another ancestor who was a child during the Bear River Massacre.  Her parents, brothers and sisters were all killed.  All of them really had to struggle; but they made it.  Obviously, because here I am.”

          “That’s interesting dear, called by what they ate.  What would you be called?  Probably something fattening, I bet.” Smiling, she patted D’Lisa on the knee like she was trying to be helpful… “My babies would be called cookie.  They love cookies… Oh my dear, it doesn’t look like any of you have touched a one of them… You probably need something to drink.  I’ll get some soda; I have some in my refrigerator.  I’ll be right back.”

          Beth‘s face grimaced in embarrassment.  Amanda just reached over and gave D’’Lisa a little squeeze.  In a few minutes Mrs. Pearson came back with four cups and some kind of liquid stored in plastic food containers.  Pouring some of the liquid into each of the glasses, she turned to Beth and asked; “what about you, dear, what are you going to write about?”

          “I have an ancestor who was born in Council Bluffs Iowa.  Her family was driven out of Illinois in the middle of winter because of religious persecution.  Her mom died at Council Bluffs during the delivery, but my, great, great, great, grandmother made it to Utah, she had to work hard; but she not only made it, she thrived, and obviously had a family.”

          We all tasted the soda.  It looked like Sprite or 7-Up; but was totally flat, really, really gross.

          Turning to me, Mrs. Pearson asked, “how about you Anna.  What are you writing about?”

          “I didn’t know about any of this, but my mom showed me an old family bible that had some history.  I guess some of my ancestors were French Huguenots.  There were a bunch of massacres in France, including 25,000 people killed in Paris.  This wasn’t all in the family history, some of it I looked up.  Anyway, one of my ancestors ended up immigrating to New Amsterdam, which became New York.  His family lived there for a few generations and one of his great grandchildren ended up marrying an Irish man who left Ireland during the big potato famine.  When he got to New York, there were signs all over the place that said Irish Need Not Apply.  He was only able to get odd jobs here and there but met this pretty French girl.  Her family didn’t like him, but they got married anyway and came west to California.  He worked in a little store and eventually opened his own place.  This week is the first I’d heard any of this.  I used to think I had it tough, but after reading what they went through, my life has been pretty easy.”

          “That’s probably why your teacher gave you the assignment.  Sometimes it’s good to put things in perspective;” said Mrs. Pearson.  Then, looking at our cups, “you girls haven’t touched your soda either?”

          D’’Lisa, thinking quickly and probably feeling a little sarcastic piped in; “Oh, I’m on a diet and they’re all supporting me.”

          “Oh… oh?  Well… that’s probably a good thing.” She sounded a little confused.  “It’s good to have supportive friends.”

          We all started hinting that we needed to get back to my place, even Amanda and Beth; but Mrs. Pearson kept talking.  Finally, the phone rang; it was my dad asking to talk to me.   I could hear him chucking as he was talking to me.  “Your mother thinks I should rescue you.  Tell Mrs. Pearson your mom wants you to come home.”

          “Thanks dad.” Then turning toward our hostess, “Sorry Mrs. Pearson; but we have to go.  My mom needs us.”

          The four of us quickly got up, put our coats and boots on, and said goodbye as we left her home.

          Mrs. Pearson, one at a time grabbed one of our hands and held it in both of hers and thanked us for coming.  When she got to D’Lisa she held on extra-long, “I’ve got a sister with a weight problem.  She was a little pudgy when she was young too.  I talked to her about it just about every day.  Tried to help her.”  Then shaking her head and looking down; “poor thing.”  She doesn’t talk to me anymore.  She still has a weight problem and I think she’s too embarrassed for me to see her.  Don’t let that happen to you dear.”

          D’Lisa just nodded her head, now patting Mrs. Pearson’s hand and said with an amazing level of sincerity and empathy; “maybe… reminding her of her own struggles, isn’t helpful, for her.  Maybe focusing on what’s good about her would be more helpful.  Does she have any good qualities?”

          “Why, why, yes, she does.  I’m just trying to be helpful.”

          “Maybe you could try in a different way.” responded D’Lisa.

          We all thanked Mrs. Pearson and a little befuddled, she thanked us for coming.         As soon as the door closed behind us Beth eagerly interjected; “that was amazing D’Lisa.  How did you come up with that???”

          “Well, I didn’t exactly, while you guys were talking, I was thinking about what I was going to say.  My mom’s on my case a lot, it’s not helpful and I hate it.  I decided I had to say something.  I just said to Mrs. Pearson what I’ve always wanted to say to my mom.  Maybe someday I’ll get up the nerve to say it to her too.”

          “Well, good job! D’Lisa,” responded Beth.  We all agreed.     

          As soon as we were home; “thanks mom, thanks dad.” AND everyone else thanked my parents too. 

          D’Lisa grabbed my dad and hugged him.  “And thank you, especially from me, I don’t think I ever want to go back there.”

          My dad looked surprised.

          “I’ll explain later dad,” was all I said for the moment.

         

          It was past 9:30 and T.J. was already in bed.

          “Hey, I’m going to make something you’re all gunna just love;” said Beth.  Then, looking at my parents, “Can I use your blender?  It’ll just take a few minutes.”

          “Sure, do you know where everything is?” responded my dad.

          “Oh,” Beth sounded startled.  “Somebody cleaned up after us.  Sorry about that.  I meant to get it.”

          “No problem, small price to pay for the cookies.  It just took a minute and T.J. helped,” answered my dad.

          Beth pulled the sack out of the fridge that she had brought from home, found the blender, then started adding, first from a gallon jar of milk she had brought with her.

          “I’ll have to make it a couple times to get enough for everybody.  This is whole milk from my grandpa’s place.  Milk with lots of cream.” Pouring some into the blender Beth smiled and said, “and the rest is from the grocery store.  Orange juice, just a tinge of vanilla, and some sugar.  Then blend, pour, and drink, that’s it.”  She poured glasses for my parents and T.J. and gave them for me to take into them and one to save for T.J..

          “Thanks Beth,” they both yelled from the living room.  Then my dad added; “this is great.  I hope you’re teaching Anna how to make this.”  She then made enough and more for the rest of us.  I’m not sure if it was better than my juice bar back in San Francisco, but it was pretty dang good.

          We talked until we fell asleep.  A little about the Ling letters; but mostly just girl stuff.