Chapter 11

I heard Ms. Smith draw breath sharply. She was a good and well-liked counselor, trusted by most students and used to hearing hair raising stories. But you - luckily, I suppose - never get used to students losing parents. She moved closer to Fran and took her other hand, but Fran didn't seem to notice. Dad still looked her in the eye and Fran seemed to draw strength and comfort from that, sensing only Dad. "How did it happen?" she asked.

"She suffered a massive stroke in a shop downtown," Dad replied. I later learned it was a grog-shop and that she yelled herself to a stroke over being refused credit.

"Did she suffer much?" Fran asked, picking up on the more common meaning of what was simply meant as a medical term.

"No. Impossible," Dad replied. "She must have been unconscious in seconds. I know, since they called me to the emergency room because of her size. She was brain dead on arrival, suffered cardiac arrest and stopped breathing in the emergency room. We couldn't bring her back."

"What happens now?" Fran asked.

"First of all, you will have to come to the hospital to see her and formally identify her. I know that is a frightening prospect, but don't fear it. George and I will be there, as will Ms., Ms. Smith was it? and Principal Rutherford," Dad replied. Fran's question obviously had a lot of levels in it, but I think Dad was right in taking them one by one.

So we drove off - Ms. Smith with Mr. Rutherford, Fran with Dad and me. Nothing was said in the car - Fran seemed completely numb. We were received at the hospital chapel by the staff who had attended to Fran's mother's body. She didn't look horrible, more like she was at peace. Dad had been right - nothing to be afraid of here. Fran still didn't cry, and her voice was completely toneless when she formally confirmed to the hospital Registrar that it was her mother. He thanked her, offered his condolences and left.

Fran repeated her question from the Principal's office. "What happens now?"

Yes, she would need to know that. Dad's reply was instant. "You come home with us."

Again Dad's straight answers to straight questions seemed to help Fran.

Mr. Rutherford spoke up. "You are legally a minor and will need a guardian. In cases like these the social authorities will get a judge to appoint a temporary guardian until a permanent one can be found. Seeing that you will be 18 in less than 3 months, I think there is no need for the latter. I have already phoned the municipal office with a simpler suggestion. A case worker is on her way."

Even as he said so, a woman was ushered into the chapel. Introductions were made and she entered into a quiet but intense discussion with Dad and the Principal. While they were talking, Ms. Smith who had been studying Fran with a concerned look finally said "Fran, my dear. It is perfectly OK to cry. Don't feel that you shouldn't. Everyone will understand."

"I don't feel anything at all, Anne," Fran replied tonelessly. She knew Ms. Smith quite well. "I am all mixed up. I know I should feel something. My mother is dead. I have never known my father, so I suppose I am now an orphan. But I have been wishing for her to be dead so much recently." She trailed off.

Ms. Smith, not easily shocked nevertheless looked shaken. "But why have you been wishing that Fran?"

By means of reply Fran rolled up a sleeve unveiling a number of purple, black and yellow-green marks. "There are others that I can't show you here. And the worst bruises are on my mind, soul, whatever. She hated me. She hated that I was happy with George and did everything to make my life a misery. In the last month she has been beating me."

Ms. Smith drew sharp breath. Even I was shocked. I knew full well about the emotional abuse, but Fran had kept the physical battering from me. No wonder she had been unwilling to undress in my presence. I wish she could have confided in me, but I understood perfectly why she hadn't; she must have feared - and rightly so - what my reaction would have been. Now that it was out in the open the flood gates burst and Fran could cry. She did that in my arms, Ms. Smith patting her back and stroking her hair.

Meanwhile the conference had ended. The case worker - a neat grey-haired woman in her fifties, waited patiently until Fran had calmed down. "I am so terribly sorry for your loss Fran," she said. "We will do everything we possibly can to help you, as will your school. I understand from Principal Rutherford that a solution could be to appoint Dr. Monroe as your temporary guardian until you reach legal maturity in April. Dr. Monroe is happy to have you as his ward, and the municipality will be so too if we are convinced that it would be in your best interest. What do you say?"

"Yes!" said Fran - her voice no longer flat and dead. "I couldn't imagine anyone better."

The woman looked at Fran, then me and then back at Fran. "Very good. I will draw up the required paperwork as soon as I am back at the office. We will have to take it before a judge, but I think I can get that done already today. Dr. Monroe, Principal Rutherford - you will have to come and sign the documents before the judge. Can we meet at the court house at 3?"

Dad and the principal both nodded. "Do we, that is to say Fran, have to be there too?" I asked.

"Strangely no," the woman replied. "Since guardians are often appointed for people wholly incapable of speaking for themselves - babies, the infirm, people with mental disabilities, it cannot be a requirement that the ward herself is present." She looked directly at me and a small smile formed on her face. "The Judge will formally ask me if I believe the appointment is in the ward's best interest. I think I can confirm that with confidence!" She left.