Chapter 10

Anton stood at his window looking down on the street below. He was feeling profoundly sad, unaware of the tear about to leak from the corner of his eye. The events of the past three weeks had been an incredible assault on his fragile sensibilities, carrying him from a self-imposed isolation and a shunning of the world around him, into the depths of despair over the loss of his Sophia, through a forced acceptance of that horrible reality, then to the singular joy, transient though it may have been, of sharing himself with Rhonda, physically and emotionally. He was riding a veritable emotional rollercoaster.

Two days after they returned to the home, there was a small private service for Sophia at a local mortuary followed by her internment in Dr. Widener’s family plot. The doctor watched Anton closely during the rites, and she was concerned about how little emotion he showed, telling her that he was internalizing it all. And that was not a good thing.

Now there were so many disparate thoughts running rampant through his mind that he could hardly keep them in any sense of order. He was feeling overwhelmed and he craved the relative peace of the self-imposed isolation from which he’d been so suddenly and rudely ripped.

Instead of bringing release and relief, his daily sessions with Dr. Widener only served to raise more questions and expose more raw nerves. In his mind, he knew she was right; that those issues, all those dark suppressed memories had to be exposed and worked through one by one, but he didn’t know how much more he could endure. It was all moving so fast.

He didn’t even have the solace of sexual release with Rhonda because it was prohibited, although she managed to sneak into his room the second night after their return to the home. They made love and clung to each other through the night, but she was seen sneaking back to her side of the building in the early morning hours. Dr. Widener was understanding as she always was, but as she repeatedly pointed out, the risk to the home’s reputation was too great. Rhonda and Anton would just have to be patient until a solution could be worked out. But Rhonda was not a patient girl.

Anton continued to have nightmares, haunted by the memories of that horrible place. He was both relieved and saddened that the man who freed him from his basement prison had confessed to what he did, but now Anton felt disappointed — no — angry that Ed Harrell hadn’t carried out his murderous assault on the McLaughlins a month earlier when Sophia could still have been saved.

He was developing a close bond with Dr. Widener because he knew she genuinely cared for him, something he and Sophia had never before sensed from anyone. The doctor tried her best to guide him through his pain and make him comfortable in his own mind, but he didn’t think that would ever be possible. How could he learn to live with all the terrible events that constituted his young life? Yes, there were good people around him now who seemed to care for him, who said they wanted to be there for him, but how would they ever be able to heal the terrible ache in his heart for his lost Sophia? How could they fix his fractured mind?

Had Anton been able to distance himself from the avalanche of events in which he’d been swept up, he might have seen that he was slipping into a black depression fed and powered by a survivor’s guilt over his being alive while his Sophia was dead.

The only true peace he could feel was in his music. Music was clean, it was honest, it simply was what it was and it allowed him an avenue of expression he couldn’t seem to command with mere human language. Even in his native Romanian, he couldn’t find the words to explain his growing sadness.

With a sigh of resignation, he put in his ear buds, selected some music on his iPod and went outside to sit in the warming sun. The leaves were starting to turn and soon they would begin to fall. Anton wondered for the hundredth time since his return to the home if perhaps it might be best for everyone if he fell too. How else would he be able to stop the pain?

Eric was in the courtyard shooting baskets with a few of the boys when Anton walked past them and over to the bench by the back fence.

At the cabin, the boy seemed to be making progress daily, becoming more animated in his conversation and his interaction with Rhonda, Ken, Raul and himself. But since returning to the home, he seemed to be regressing toward that impenetrable dark solitude. He still spoke and he still listened, but every day he grew more and more distant, his already rare smiles disappearing completely. Eric was worried. Very worried.

It was late Friday morning and he was hoping to spend the weekend with Andrea. Ken and Raul were still at the cabin doing their thing, so he planned to hang out there until she was off duty, then spend the next two nights at her house or the little cabin on the mountaintop. But as he watched Anton lean back against the fence and drift off into his music, Eric felt the need to do something, anything to try to pull the boy out of his blue funk and get him turned away from his dark side. He’d read enough about the volatility of the teenage mind to know Anton was a prime candidate for suicide.

When the bell rang sending the kids back to the classroom, he walked down the hall to Dr. Widener’s office. She was in a counseling session, so he took a seat in the hallway and waited until she was done.

Ten minutes later, she came out and invited him to accompany her to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. “What can I help you with, Eric?”

He got right to it. “I’m really worried about Anton because I think he’s slipping away from us again. I’m scared that he might be suicidal.”

“Yes, you’re right. I’ve seen it too and I don’t seem to be able to make any inroads into what’s going on in his mind. I believe the past few of weeks is hitting him too fast and too hard, which is the very reason I specifically warned Rhonda about the dangers of confronting Anton with his sister’s death. That jerked him out of his safe place rather rudely and it’s becoming more apparent by the day that he wasn’t ready for it. I suspect there’s some survivor’s guilt involved, but there’s more. He’s showing other signs of clinical depression and I’m thinking about putting him on an antidepressant for a while. We need to quiet his mind.”

He stopped and looked at her. “Um, you’re the expert of course, but I was wondering if giving him a break from all the activity around here might be helpful. It was when he was working with Raul that he seemed most focused and enthusiastic. I know he still plays a little bit on the piano and the guitar, but it’s not the same. I think he needs the structure of studying, and I’m not talking about algebra and English. Raul inspired him, and the music seemed to be able to pull him out of his melancholy.”

Widener agreed, “That’s very perceptive of you Eric. Yes, I’ve felt the same and I’ve been thinking about bringing Raul back here to set up music instruction for the rest of the children as well — that is, if I can find the funding. He says he’ll be finished with the work on my cabin in a few more days.”

Eric floated his idea. “Dr. Widener, I’m going up there after work this afternoon to spend the weekend with Andrea. How about I take Anton with me? He can hang out with Raul and Ken and me, you know, kind of like just us guys. I’ve heard him say at least a dozen times how much he misses the cabin and the quiet. I think, like you do, that jumping back into all this activity so soon after he broke free from his mental prison was too much for him. I honestly don’t think it’s a good idea to let him out of our sight.”

Dr. Widener regarded her counselor for a few moments before speaking. “Like I said, Eric, you’re very perceptive. I’d feel bad about ruining your weekend plans with Deputy Daniels, but it might just give Anton some breathing space and allow him to take things a little slower. And you’re right about Raul being a very positive influence on the boy.” She continued down the hall. “Yes, let’s do that! Why don’t you get him packed up and you can leave right now if you want to. And I’d like a detailed report when you get back on Monday. And of course your right that Anton needs to be watched with a close eye.”

“Thanks, Dr. Widener, you’ll have it! Um, what would you think about taking Rhonda as well. I know you disapprove of them being sexually involved, but I think they really love each other, at least as much as kids that age can love someone.”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Eric. Believe it or not, I actually have no objection to them having sex as long as it’s protected sex. I believe it’s a positive thing for both of them, but in this setting, it’s far too risky. However, my primary objection to Rhonda going with you is that she’s a much stronger personality than Anton and she dominates him completely, and he’s so vulnerable and unsure of himself that he lets her do it. She’s already shown me that she can’t be trusted to follow my directions. Anton may have regressed, but I’m certain that if we bring him back slowly and carefully, he’ll eventually survive what has so far been a complete nightmare of a life.”

Anton actually cracked a little smile, the first one in days, when Eric found him still sitting on the bench and told him to go get packed because they were headed up to the cabin for the weekend. It was a bit of a surprise that he didn’t ask if Rhonda was going. He rushed up to his room, stuffed some toiletries and a couple of changes of clothing into his backpack, grabbed his guitar and stood waiting at Eric’s Cherokee.

They stopped at a Wendy’s drive-through for lunch along the way and Eric was pleased to see that the kid still had an appetite. As they pulled back onto the highway, Anton asked around a mouthful of fries, “Does Raul know we are coming? Maybe he will make time for music lesson.”

“I called Andrea and asked her to drop by the cabin and let them know you’re coming. He’s probably already planning to work your fingers to nubs.”

“Nubs? What is nubs?”

Eric chuckled, “It means he’ll likely wear out your fingertips from practicing. It’s just another weird American expression.”

Eric accelerated up to sixty and pushed the cruise control button. He glanced over at Anton and asked, “You know, I’ve noticed that you’re wearing your sad face a lot lately. Is it anything you feel comfortable talking to me about, just man-to-man? It’s okay if you’d rather not.”

Anton looked out his window at the passing scenery and sipped on his drink, saying nothing for an uncomfortable stretch of time. With a shrug, he turned and said, “I don’t know how to say what I am feeling. It is like when I am with Dr. Widener: Sometimes I think there is something I must say to her, but I don’t find words. It is like my brain does not connect to my mouth. I have thoughts in my head but they don’t come out.”

Eric reached over and squeezed a knee. “You know what? Sometimes I get that very same feeling, and the way I handle it is I just walk away from it for a while. I don’t know what kind of things you believe in, Anton, but I believe there’s a time and a place for everything. If you can’t figure something out, maybe it’s because it isn’t the right time yet. By that I mean maybe you just need a little more time to process it before it all comes together.

“I’ve also noticed that the further you get from the city, the less gloomy you are, so for this weekend at least, forget about all the things you think you’re supposed to be saying to Dr. Widener and just do what feels comfortable to you, like playing guitar with Raul, kicking Ken’s butt in a game of cribbage, going for a long walk, anything! Just let your mind rest. And just so you know, Dr. Widener knows exactly what you’re going through.”

“I don’t know the game cribbage. Is fun?”

“Yeah. I’ll show you when we get there.”

Before the cell phone signal began to grow spotty in the mountains, Eric called Andrea and told her he was on the way and he’d be at the cabin shortly. He’d wait there for her to get off duty.

When he killed the connection, Anton remarked, “That lady, Deputy Daniels, she is most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Also the tallest. You have sex with her?”

Eric suppressed a laugh and said, “Um, that’s not the kind of stuff people generally talk about openly. Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with it; it’s just that some people might take it as an invasion of their privacy. They might be embarrassed.”

Anton looked confused, “To talk about sex is bad thing? Why? I believe sex is good thing! I don’t mean kind of sex that happen to Sophia and me. That is not good sex, it is like beating.”

“Oh, I agree! The right kind of sex is definitely a good thing, Anton. It’s just not a topic for polite conversation. Look, don’t worry about it, okay? I know you haven’t been brought up to appreciate and to observe all the social niceties, so I can’t expect you make sense of stuff like this. There’s not a lot of logic behind some of our social taboos. Anyhow, I’ll pass your compliment on to Andrea. She’ll be pleased.”