Two North by Chris Savage (i want to read a book txt) 📕

as much as it was to keep unwanted visitors out

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The nurse led us to a room with a television blaring and people in bathrobes sitting in groups or alone, some smoking cigarettes, some staring vacantly into space, others talking to people that weren't there. My mom was sitting on her own, quietly smoking a cigarette and looking out the window.

“Hi, Mom. How ya doin'?” I asked her.

She gave a small sob and grabbed me, hugging me close. “Chris, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Oh, I'm so sorry...”

It was hard seeing her there, so scared and alone. This wasn't like my Mom at all. My Mom was strong and normal. She was happy, not sad and scared. I looked around at the room we were in. Many of the other patients on Two North were quite mentally ill and they frightened me. I wanted her to come home with us in the worst way. I told her that.

“Honey, I need some time to figure things out. I can get help here and it's safe. I'll be home soon, I promise. I might even get to come home for Christmas.”

We didn't stay long. What do you talk about in a situation like that? My Grandma gave her a few things she had brought along, cigarettes, toothbrush and toothpaste, some stuff for her hair. Then I hugged her and we left. I didn't cry. It seems like I never cry.

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Over the next few days before Christmas, I stayed with my grandparents. I avoided my friends. What could I tell them? That my Mom was on Two North? Everyone knew what that

meant. It meant my Mom was crazy. Nuts. Mentally ill. I really didn't want to talk to them about it.

On Christmas morning, my Grandpa went up and picked my Mom up from the hospital. I don't know what gifts I got that year although I'm sure my Grandma was the one who bought them. But the best gift I got that year was my Mom being home on Christmas day.

Somehow we made it through the day. We all knew my Mom and I had to get away from John but that discussion was for another day. We were just glad to be there together as a family, making small talk and pretending everything was normal. That's how my family deals with things. We're pretty good at it, too.

Later that night, in our snuggly cocoon upstairs, my Mom and I talked. We talked and talked and talked. We talked about my dad who I had never met. We talked about what we were going to have to do next. We talked for hours.

The next morning I woke up late. My Mom was gone. She had gotten up early and had my Grandpa drive her back to the hospital. Back to Two North. She wasn't ready yet for the real world. She needed some time, some space, to get her head together.

Over the next year my Mom would leave John and we would find a small apartment in town where we hid out, afraid of violent retribution after the divorce papers were served to him. The apartment was small, cozy, and warm. I started a new school and my mom started a new job as a paralegal, helping people work their way through the legal system. Typical of her, she did her own divorce without a lawyer.

The apartment was a haven and the two of us grew closer than ever there. It was strange place for both of us but it was safe and gave us time and space to get our heads together. And the only crazy people there were me and my Mom.

Publication Date: 01-23-2010

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