Slow Dance in Purgatory

Maggie was prepared with her response. She would stick to the truth, but she would edit. A lot.

“It was a date dance last night. I shouldn’t have had to go, but the dance captain seems to like torturing me. I just felt really bad. When the dance was over, I started crying. I ended up sitting in the hallway. I was exhausted; it had been a really long day.” Maggie looked at her aunt and Gus, knowing they could confirm at least that. They both nodded encouragingly.

“There are vents right there, and it was warm. I fell asleep. I’m sorry you had to come looking for me. Way to ruin a perfectly good Saturday morning, huh?”

Irene tossed a loaded look towards Gus. He straightened and approached Maggie’s bed. She twisted her yellow polka dotted comforter nervously between her fingers. Irene squeezed her hand, and Maggie felt her eyes prick with tears. Would Irene really send her away?

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble, Aunt Irene,” Maggie blurted out before Gus could even say anything. “I have really tried to be good. I know I screwed up, but if you’ll give me one more chance, I would really like to stay here with you.” Maggie silently cursed the weak tears that spilled over, wondering how it was possible that she had any more tears left to cry. After last night, she thought she would never cry again.

“Maggie! My sweet girl!” Irene held a hand to her heart as if to steady its beat. “Of course you’re staying with me. I waited this long for you. I’m never going to let you go.”

“Miss Margaret, nobody is angry with you,” Gus chimed in. “We love you. We’re just worried, is all. We thought something terrible had happened to you.”

“Nope,” Maggie smiled wanly. “I’m just fine –“ Her lips trembled a little, and she tucked them between her teeth, nodding. Her right hand resumed twisting yellow polka dots.

“Miss Margaret,” Gus entreated her gently. “You said Johnny’s name this morning. Can you tell me about that?”

Maggie’s heart turned to ice, and her belly was filled with snakes. “I must have dreamed about him,” She offered softly. It was the truth. She hadn’t lied yet.

“I saw him, Margaret.”

Maggie’s eyes flew to his, and her right hand ceased its incessant twisting.

“He watched us as we left. I think he was worried about you.”

Maggie’s heart melted a few degrees, but the snakes still hissed.

“Did you see him, too?” Gus persisted.

“No,” Maggie choked out. Again, the truth.

“But you have seen him, haven’t you?” Gus was relentless.

“Yes.”

There was an audible gasp from both Irene and Shad, and Gus shook his head like he almost didn’t believe it himself.

“How often?” Gus asked gently.

“All the time,” Maggie whispered. She searched their faces desperately, beseeching them with her eyes. She never would have admitted even that much if Gus hadn’t confessed to seeing him, too.

“Have you talked to him? Has he….talked to you?” Gus sank down next to Irene on the bed. Maggie hugged her knees to her chest to clear some space. Her knees provided a barrier between her and the hovering adults. She leaned her forehead against her steepled legs and wondered how much she was willing to reveal.

“He’s very alone.” Maggie lifted her head and met Gus’s steady gaze. She would talk to him. He would believe her. “He’s been there for a long, long time. We’ve become friends….” She couldn’t continue. The pain was a writhing, churning hole in her chest, and it consumed her ability to speak.

Gus seemed at a loss for words as well. He simply sat, staring off, pondering what she had revealed. The stillness in the room was stifling. Maggie buried her face in her arms.

Irene suddenly shook herself briskly and, leaning forward, she grasped Maggie’s face in her hands, forcing her to look at her. Irene’s blue eyes were wide with worry and something close to fear.

“Maggie? Tell us what to do for you…and for….Johnny.” Irene choked on his name, like she couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Tell me what to do. Tell me how I can help.”

Maggie placed her hands over her aunt’s and with considerable effort spoke the final, inescapable truth.

“That’s just it. You can’t help. I can’t help. No one can.”

“Surely….there’s something?” Irene let her hands fall from Maggie’s cheeks, and she shook her head helplessly.

“I love you, Aunt Irene. But…. please, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I will be okay. I don’t want you to worry….I’m just so tired.”