Chapter 7

While lying on the low table in Physical Therapy, Darren waited to see who they would assign to him next. Over the past eight months his hostile and abusive outbursts had earned him four different therapists.

Last Friday the fourth one refused to work with him any more. Now Maureen Sanderson, head of the PT department, was walking towards him with a clip board in her arms.

Mrs. Sanderson reminded Darren of a nice looking mid-thirties soccer mom type. Dark short cropped hair, smallish glasses with dark tinted lenses which framed and dominated her face.

He had been going to therapy at this clinic for almost a year and had only seen Maureen without her glasses four or five times. Her left eye was prosthetic, that defect gave Darren an affinity towards her.

Darren was slowly lifting his left leg a few inches as he did his warm up exercises. Mrs. Sanderson stood next to him for a few minutes and said, "Lift the leg higher, you are never going to get rehabilitated at this rate."

Lifting his leg a few more inches, he gritted between pain clinched teeth, "What's the fucking use, I'm going to be like this forever."

The woman looked down at him with a scowl. "Hmmm, you refuse to do the exercises, verbally abuse the staff... Terri is the fourth therapist you've driven off. Now you expect us to provide another victim for your pity party?"

She switched to a pout, "Poor me, my life is ruined.," Then she started singing, "Nobody knows the troubles I've seen..." Darren recognized the old spiritual, but didn't appreciate her personal sarcastic rendition delivered with a nasty attitudinal slur.

He didn't immediately respond to her, but the undisguised hate in his eyes spoke volumes. Suddenly without warning, he ferociously exploded, spitting out his pain, "How dare you mock me. Nobody understands... I had a life... a girl I was going to marry. My life was just beginning... One stupid fucking violent act and everything was gone, all because my girlfriend wanted to party... and with another guy." His face flushed as his emotional dam collapsed.

Voice dripping with sarcasm, he continued, "Oh believe me, I know you have your own crisis. Your fucking nail broke, bad hair day, car broke down, flat tire, an electrical bill bigger than normal so you won't be able to buy that other shade of lipstick... Then if I don't lift my leg two more inches, I'm the bad guy. Bullshit bitch, try walking in some shoes filled with real life pains. My leg and hip hurt, ok?" he hissed.

With his anger vented, he despondently continued, "It's fucking painful, I have spasms all night but there isn't anyone to help. I don't even want to try any more." Flopping back on the table, in one sweeping motion, he threw his towel against the wall just before his arm dropped to cover his eyes.

Maureen stood passively waiting for him to finish, then replied, "Are you through with your tantrum?"

Looking up at Maureen, he saw the 'mother look.' Darren's jaw stubbornly locked in place seconds before finally deflating, "Yes," he replied dejectedly. Thinking to himself, 'I hate when I do that, unloading on just anyone, I don't like what I am becoming.'

Maureen sat down next to him and lifted up his leg to where it should have been and held it. Darren thought she was mumbling to herself until she looked him in the eyes and continued.

Her voice was so low he had to strain to hear her say, "You have no idea how happy I am to be able to lift and hold your leg up like this. There was a time I was so lost and confused, I was sure God hated me, and I didn't know what I had done wrong.

"I was sixteen years old walking home from softball practice. At the end of our street, there was a vacant lot we used as a shortcut.

"There is where he made his move and grabbed me. I must have screamed." Her voice thick with emotion, she began telling her story to Darren.

"After slamming me to the ground, he crammed a piece of cloth in my mouth and threatened me to lie still. He slapped me hard four or five times to make sure I got the point.

"The one thing that made me freeze and haunted me for years was the stone cold emptiness of his eyes as they erratically jumped around. I have never before or since felt the gut sick terror of fear like I did for those few minutes.

"He didn't rape me, but instead laughed at me, telling me he had to rid the world of young sluts like me. That I made him do this because of the way I was dressed. I remember thinking, 'I'm in sweats, how frumpier could I look?'

"Then I saw him raise his hand just before he hit me in the side of the head. God it hurt... I know he hit me at least twice before I passed out. I found out later he used some kind of pipe and hit me three times on the side of the head and face.

"My twelve year old brother and three of his friends had heard me scream and came running. When they saw the guy hit me, all four of them began shouting and swinging their baseball bats.

"They hit the guy in the head so hard he staggered off me. The kids continued their attack, smacking his knees, ankles and arms until he limped out the back of the lot and into the alley. They never did find the asshole.

"Thankfully my brother yanked the cloth from my mouth when he noticed I was turning blue. My nose was broken and had immediately swollen to the point I couldn't breathe.

"I've had to live with the damage from just a few swings of that pipe."

She took Darren's hand and with determination traced a scar hidden behind her hairline.

"Beneath that scar lies a steel plate. Beneath the steel plate lies an injury that cost me the full use of my right leg and arm. Try walking without the use of your right leg. Try a lot of things without the full use of your right arm. Along with the broken nose came a shattered eye. Try seeing normally with only one eye.

"Another casualty was my natural sense of safety. Try sleeping at night when your dreams are nothing but nightmares. Another side effect of the head injury is seizures. Try getting a drivers license with active seizures. To this day I take medication to prevent them.

"Yet here I am eighteen years later, doing everything I can to help others. I have recovered the use of my leg and arm and have my seizures under control.

"I am married and have two wonderful kids. My husband has been with me every step of the way since the first day we met. I can't begin to explain how happy I am to have him, I don't deserve him.

"Your attitude is a carbon copy of mine when I began my therapy. Thank God I met my husband shortly after starting. I didn't think anyone would ever love or want me again. He was a big help, not only supporting me and giving me new hope, but becoming the reason for me to succeed.

"It took me three years to get out of treatment. I made a vow to myself that I would go to college and become a Physical Therapist so that I could help others.

"Too bad that girlfriend of yours didn't work out. She could have been a big motivation for you to succeed."

Smiling over at him she continued, "My own Physical Therapist had a history too. Only... the pain that he endured recovering from a combination of burns and injuries was beyond any thing I had experienced. He just told me, "Maureen sometimes life deals you a hand of cards that suck, but you have to play them, cause it's the only hand you get."

Looking at Darren she said, "Like it or not, this is the hand you were dealt. It is my job to help you learn to play the cards you've got."

Pausing for a moment to get her emotions in check, she looked at Darren, "I think I can sympathize with how you feel. Now are you ready to lift that leg."

Darren nodded and with new found respect said, "I'm sorry."

Maureen returned a sad smile and calmly replied, "So am I, for all of us, but..."

Groaning with tremendous pain, Darren pushed his leg up and for the first time truly began to exercise.

When he was through Maureen came over and asked him, "How do you feel?" Offering her hand and helping him up before handing him his cane as they walked towards the door.

"Like I was just run over by a semi, but I'll be here tomorrow for more of the same. I apologized to Terri; she said if I showed up tomorrow ready to go to work, she would be here."

Nodding, her eyes refusing to meet his, Maureen inquired, "Darren can I ask you something?"

The look on her face and sound of her voice 'reeked' of the one thing men feared more than war, 'emotional inquest incoming.' Not sure he was ready to deal with any more emotional issues but not knowing for sure what she was going to ask, he politely murmured "Sure."

A sad expression enveloped her face as she asked him, "You said something when you were 'exploding' during your tirade earlier. Do you really believe your girlfriend purposefully wanted the problems this guy caused you?"

Darren watched Maureen as she stared at him with a deep sadness in her eyes. She seemed to be looking right through him into his soul; it was annoying and unnerving.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against the wall for support, and for the first time in months, delved into the deep recesses of his own thoughts and feelings. The answer was there, he had just been avoiding the question until now.

'If Becca had even an inkling of what Hayden had been capable of doing, would she have gone near him? No, not my little fireball, the one gal who had totally won my heart and mind, the one I fell so hard for.'

He found himself smiling as an interlude of her memories flooded his heart. 'All she wanted was to help me get better so we could be together, while I wallowed in self pity. No, she would rather die than see anyone hurt by her actions.'

He shook his head; a lone tear trailed down the side of his face as he pulled himself out of the swirling pool of memories and whispered, "No Maureen, she wouldn't have allowed that to happen. It was only more of my displaced anger."

Nodding she looked for a moment as though she was going to pass on saying anything more. Finally shaking her head she replied, "I hope you can patch it up with her. You may not know it but you glow a bit when you talk about her, the kind of glow you could use more of."

As she headed out the door to call the next patient, Darren followed, replying, "Thanks, I hope so too."

When he got home that afternoon, Darren plugged in his computer for the first time in months. Becca was probably not going to answer him but he would apologize.

He thought of her last words to him at the hospital parking lot before he came home. Those words were like ice picks in his soul. He was now so very ashamed of himself.

As he began to type he felt the hot tears roll down his face. Each one removed a small part of the anger and self pity that had been poisoning his soul. As the anger lifted, it revealed the depth of his feelings for Becca lying just beneath the surface.

He poured his soul into the e-mail, begging her to forgive him and pleading for her to come see him, or at least tell him where he could come to her. After almost and hour of typing he hit the send button and prayed.

As Becca sat in Gwen's living room, she was unusually quiet considering it was the weekend. With graduation just a few weeks away, Becca was beginning to get more than a little angry and frustrated at the whole situation. Taking into account what had occurred over the past few months she tried to figure out her next move.

'Since Darren left I've tried everything I could think of to keep his mind on us. I used to call him twice a week on top of e-mailing as often as I could. Even sent him those little love notes by snail mail.

'Did he show me any consideration... not no, but hell no. Didn't respond to my calls and only answered about one in four of my emails.

'But, he didn't get angry or abusive with me. I just hated those mixed signals he was sending, I could tell by Darren's emails that he was slipping into some sort of depression.

'After three or four months and no calls, I know I'm the one who gave up, but now I'm wondering if I gave up too easily.

'Everything seemed to work against us this year, my old email account even got hacked and I had to close it. Damn it, why do I keep doing this to myself, he has my new e-mail address, I sent it to him.

'If he really wanted to get in touch with me, I'm here. It's apparent he doesn't want to see me... but I refuse to give up on us.

'His mom always said I'm welcome there anytime. That's my last resort.

'If he doesn't show for my graduation, then we're going to have a showdown, but damn it, it will have to wait. Daddy has asked me to come home and help mom.

'She had to put off her surgical procedure until after my graduation since I'm the only one who can lend a hand full time. Soon as my mom's back on her feet, he'd better get ready.

'I'll drag his ass out by his ear if I have to and force him to deal with 'us.' My love will not be denied... and I will not be denied my love.'

Breaking out of her little world and looking out the window at the sky, Becca suddenly said in a voice tinged with irritation, "You know God, with just a little more effort, you could have made this whole thing just a tad easier for the both of us... by the way, it's not too late ya know?"

Gwen's laughter from behind her startled Becca and she jumped while turning around. Gwen said, "Girlfriend you sure know how to pick fights with the big boys don't ya? I tend to be more pleading and less demanding when it comes to 'The Big Guy, ' but you go girl. Just sleep in a tent tonight so my apartment doesn't get hit by lightning."

Both girls laughed, and then Gwen asked, "What movie do you want to see? I already said we are going to T.G.I. Friday's for dinner and drinks afterwards. Lateef and Tonya will meet us there."

As Becca stood with her hands on her hips, she snorted, "In that case, we are going to see a movie with at least two good looking male stars. One for you and one for me, that way we won't have to fight over who gets to fantasize about the hero."

Gwen squealed, "Great a man for each of us! You can have the oldest one, I like mine young and virile."

Cocking her eyebrow, Becca jokingly inquired, "Young huh, just how young?"

Gwen responded in mock seriousness, "Pretty young, but at least old enough to be legal."

Grabbing their purses as they shared a chorus of laughter, the two friends headed out the door for an evening of much needed fun and relaxation.

Darren was sitting at his desk when his mother stepped into his room. As she stood quietly watching him work at his computer, she felt so happy and relieved with his apparent turn around over the last couple of months.

The old Darren was firmly back in control and the troll was almost non-existent, the only exception being his continual state of sadness that seemed to prevail over everything else. Although he had told her he wasn't ready to talk about Becca, she knew from his actions, he was constantly thinking about her.

"Damn, damn, damn," he snarled as the bottom of his fist pounded the desk top in frustration. "Almost three months and she hasn't responded yet. I can't have lost her, not now!"

"Darren baby, what's wrong?" Paula asked.

He jumped shouting in surprise, "Oh shit." Holding one hand to his chest, he took a long deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Good God Mom, knock or something."

Paula moved over behind her son and hugged him as he reached up squeezing her arms in response. She grabbed a chair and sat down next to him. After draping an arm around and over his shoulder, she peered at the screen while resting her chin on the other. "What's the problem mister? Maybe your ole computer illiterate mom can help."

Darren smiled to himself, his life was returning to normal except for Becca. Her absence was a big hole in his life, too big. Nothing was going to be right until he talked to Becca. He needed to get in touch with her.

"Mom, I'm just upset at myself. Apparently I finally went too far and pushed Becca away. I wrote her a letter of apology over two months ago and have repeatedly emailed it two or three times a week but it's a no go, she hasn't responded.

Since it appears I've struck out with her, I'm at a loss what to do. If you have any suggestions, I'm open, I can't give up, I love her too much to lose her."

The frustration in his voice was obvious. Paula smiled, "Well, what would you like me to do?"

Darren sat quietly for a moment then opened his letter to Becca so he could let his mother read it. Placing his hands on his desk he pushed back and stood up steadying his balance by grabbing his cane.

Pointing with the cane towards his bathroom he said, "I'm not sure, but let me take a potty break before I start seeing yellow. If you would, please read this then let me know what you think."

Paula immediately spotted the problem even before she began to read the letter. Waiting until she heard the click of the bathroom door, she quickly sent a copy of the letter to her own e-mail account.

After checking to make sure she had received it, she chuckled to herself as she closed her e-mail. She decided not to tell him in case Becca didn't respond, no use getting his hopes up for nothing.

Darren waited a bit longer than usual so his mom could read the letter. When he emerged, he noticed one of his dresser drawers was open and his mom had one of his tee-shirts clutched tightly to her chest and mouth.

She looked up at him as he approached. With a touch of humor to her voice, she informed, "You want me to read this letter and you have no Kleenex."

They both could see the mascara stains as she held his tee-shirt in front of her, "Serves you right'" she teased. Turning back she began to read again.

Darren had to get ready because Terri from physical therapy had asked him to go to martial arts class with her. Apparently she talked to her sensei after Darren confided in her that he was a bit scared in crowds and when answering the door.

"Darren can learn 'to walk without fear, '" he replied.

She relayed the information to Darren, letting him think it over and weigh the possible benefits of the exercises.

After considering the alternative, he figured, 'It couldn't hurt... wrong, ' he grinned, 'it will hurt, but it might just help.'

While he was putting on his sweats his mom told him, "You have to find a way to make sure Becca has read this letter."