Keweenaw Faith

Good Heavens,” said Mary Vander Meer staring at Johnny and putting her hand over her mouth.
Johnny looked up at the young woman with a clip board and didn’t immediately make the connection. When she took her hand away from her mouth it all came rushing back to her; the joy, the panic, the blackness, the sorrow, the emptiness, the guilt.
“Mary,” he whispered under his breath as a million thoughts raced through his brain with none of them making any sense.
Angie didn’t recognize Mary. She had only met her once and it had been so long ago.
Mary slowly walked to the bed with tears streaming down her face.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t stay… Bill…Amy,” she sobbed with her hands over her mouth.
Johnny hushed the sobs embracing Mary as tenderly as he could. “Mary, Mary, Mary, you have nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t anybody’s fault.”
“Oh,” she jumped back in embarrassment, “I’m going to hurt you,” she said, taking a napkin from his tray and drying her eyes.
“I’m sorry for acting like such a baby, please don’t tell my boss, she’ll have a fit,” Mary said turning to Angie. “I’m sorry,” she said addressing Angie, “We met once before, along time ago.”
Angie stood and hugged Mary. “I remember. That was a much happier time. How are you Mary?”
“Well, I was fine until now, I’m sorry, I kind of had that all buried in the past and it sort of knocked me down,” she said apologetically. “Let me go splash a little water on my face and pull myself together and I’ll come back and the three of us can go down to the therapy gym and start making a walker out of a sitter, okay?”
Looking at the face in the bathroom mirror frightened Mary. Her hands were still trembling. She tried desperately to separate the cob webs of the past and struggled to gain enough control to go back into Johnny’s room and do her job. There really wasn’t a great deal to remember about the relationship between her, Bill, Johnny and Amy. Love and friendships seemed to be a part of their daily lives back then, and suddenly that world was shattered. She couldn’t bring back those thoughts and memories. She really couldn’t.
Mary walked back into Johnny’s room and Angie was gone.
“Where’d your mom go?” Mary asked.
“She said we had some things to talk about, and you could collect her in the visitor’s room when we were ready to start the therapy.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Mary said awkwardly looking out the window at the Grand Rapids skyline.
“Where did you go?” Johnny asked trying to quell the anxiety that was slowly filling the room.
Mary turned, took his hand, and slowly began recounting the tale of despair, fear and uncertainty after the accident and the decision by her family to move to Rockford and begin a new life. She told him of her attempts to contact him, but never having the courage to complete the calls. Once again, there seemed like nothing to say. Johnny pulled her towards him and together they sobbed through their inability to stop the floodgates of despair. This pain was bigger than either of them could handle. They held each other and yet both felt very much alone. They had both built this barricade of anguish for themselves and weren’t sure they wanted to tear it down. Johnny was speechless as the memories of the accident began flooding into his vulnerable state of mind. The glib youth leader with all of the answers was suddenly lost in a vacuum of self pity and anger, and there was nothing he could say or do to erase these terrible feelings. Mary handed Johnny a Kleenex and together they both blew their noses and began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Mary asked sniffling behind a wad of tissue.
“I don’t know,” Johnny said.
“Me either,” she responded squeezing his hand.
“We’d better throw some water on our faces and go collect mom. She’s probably wondering what’s going on,” he said in a husky voice.
The two emotionally exhausted old friends who had opened up a nightmare headed for the visitors room.