Withering Heights in the Windy City

I now know why God gave me these nine children.

It was to preserve my life.

This past weekend, my husband surprised me with a trip to Chicago for our 19 year anniversary. My parents agreed to watch the horde. Left to my own devices and without the benefit of a to-do list, I quickly reverted to pre-child form, engaging in such selfish activities as sleep, eating food without sharing and mentally preparing to do any manner of self indulgent recreational activities like museums, shopping and haircuts.

Then the dutiful part of me whispered, “You should do something that is unique to this town. You can shop or eat or get a haircut anywhere.” To which, the veteran mom answered, “Oh yeah? Then why is my hair in a permanent ponytail and my wardrobe consist of tee-shirts my son has outgrown and shoes my daughter no longer fits?”

“You’re overweight.” The nag voice hissed, “So you obviously find time to Eat.” “No, I just don’t find time to exercise.” I smart mouthed back, but the idea of doing something I could do nowhere else lingered.

The Cubs weren’t in town, and I don’t like the White Sox. I didn’t want to go to the pier and be reminded of all the children I have by other people’s kids. So I had to pick something touristy. There was the Sears Tower, the tallest building around that had just opened a Lucite deck where you could walk outside the building and look down. Perfect!

Clearly, outside the protective influence of my children, I harbor destructive impulses. The seven block walk towards the tower, allowed for me to either build up the nerve or have an attack of common sense.

I considered the reality of the Lucite bridge 1,400 feet up above ground with the unforgiving gravity in between. The debate was back on, was it brave to go on the bridge? I mean, it was obviously safe or no one would be allowed on it, but since it was obviously safe, how was it brave to step out on it?

Then I considered the reality, that it would feel brave because my eyes would see the drop, and I would feel afraid. How long did one have to be on the bridge to show bravery? I mean, if you went on the bridge but shut your eyes so as to not be afraid, wouldn’t that defeat the point? Wouldn’t also putting a toe on the bridge for 2 seconds also defeat the point? What in fact was the point?

How would standing there and yelling “Hah!” At Newton’s law of gravity when in fact I was supported by a Lucite deck certified to be safe and having housed countless others, indicate courage when I was in fact doing nothing but standing on a floor outside? I decided all would be made clear by actually doing the act.

I bought the ticket. I took the elevator. We took the tour. The Lucite deck I’d decided to conquer was in the Sears Tower. I had gone to the John Hancock. There was a screened in deck where one could look out and feel the rush of the sky. It was beautiful but absolutely non threatening. What did all of this prove?

God looks after me in my absent minded impulsiveness.

Now I’m going home where it’s much safer.

The Expert

Sometimes I need to stretch other writing skills so I write flash fiction via the Absolutewrite forum --they give topics every Sunday Night at 9:00 pm. You have one hour to create a piece. This was my most successful piece; the topic given, "The Expert." Enjoy.

This is crazy.” Susan said to herself, “But you need help. You’ll never make it through today if you don’t.” she answered herself. Practically, she had examined the schedule and with her husband out of town and her oldest required to play in a high school concert or be docked two grades, there was no avoiding the obligation. She didn’t want to bring a toddler and a newborn plus two older children to a building where every squeal would be super amplified. It was a great opportunity for her son to be sure, to play at the Kennedy Center, and it wasn’t that she hadn’t tried to secure a babysitter, but people looked at the number of children involved and got very busy with their schedules. The woman had stopped her at church to say to call if she ever needed help, and pressed the paper into her hand.

Unfolding the paper, Susan dialed the number. “Hello?” a male voice answered, he sounded annoyed or at the very least, stressed. “Can I speak to Anne?” Susan asked. “One moment.” The male voice had switched to business professional.

“Hello?” a sort of familiar voice came on the phone. “Hello Anne, this is Susan. You gave me your phone number to call if I need help.”
“Yes. Yes. Yes. I’m so glad you called. What can I do for you?”

Susan poured out the whole insane schedule to Anne who was properly sympathetic to the craziness of it all. “What time do you need me?” Grateful for the rescue, Susan promised to order pizza and have the kids ready for bed to make it easier. “It’s a good thing you caught me today, tomorrow my husband and I fly to Chicago.”

“Oh. To see family or see an exhibit?” Susan asked, she loved Chicago and always liked hearing about people going there.

“No. “ Anne’s voice softened. “My oldest daughter is struggling with depression and we’re flying there to help her. She’s seeing things that aren’t there.”

“Oh!” Susan felt a hammer on her heart, just thinking about the amount of pain in that simple statement. “I will pray for you.” Susan said.
“Thank you. I’ll be at your home tonight at six.”

Susan took out her rosary and began the familiar prayers. “Rain on the heavens with the rosary.” She thought. “I need my brother.” She thought of her long deceased brother that had lost his battle with madness on Earth. “You know the pain you caused Mom, see if you can talk some sense into this woman’s daughter.”

And somewhere in Chicago, a hung over woman brushing her teeth in her apartment had a vision of a cigarette smoking skinny black haired boy with an avenging naked red headed arch angel tattoo on his left arm. He took a long drag and then he looked her straight in the face, his blood shot eyes matching hers. “You don’t want to go down this dark road.” He said and flicked some ashes. “Trust me, I’m an expert.” Then he faded from her view and her memory, leaving only the whiff of air where someone had been smoking.