A Difference Of Ability 3q6c42

A Difference of Ability

Jesse has been working at an Extended Care Facility for severely disabled people and senior citizens for almost four years. Lately he has been feeling depressed and has grown tired of changing adult diapers and tending to patients. He has become sluggish and unenthusiastic with his work. Grown tired with his work routine. His boss arranges for him to take a stress leave. During his time off, he starts volunteering with the Independent Living Centre. There he starts working with a young autistic woman names Rachel. And although Rachel is fully potty trained and lives a relatively independent life, he begins to uncover some dark secrets of her past and how he can help her to overcome them.

Chapter 1

I finished changing my patient before carefully sitting him up on the on the bed, careful to his head. I sat myself down beside the bed as I released my hand from underneath. He looked at me, with all the ability he had to move his head, and he motioned towards his wheelchair in the far right corner of the room. I shrugged and slowly got up. 2 pm is the time when Charlie usually wishes to go for a walk to the waterfront to see the lake, watch the birds and then head back. I slowly walked over to where his wheelchair was kept and brought it over to him. From a sitting position, I lifted his one-hundred-pound body slowly off the bed with one arm under his legs and one around his back. His body went limp; he felt like a small child, helpless and vulnerable. Sometimes I wonder how anyone could want to live like this; whether it would be a mercy to simply let them die peacefully. Would I want to live if I could barely move or speak? If someone had to help me with the most basic of activities that even a toddler could do? Though, he knows no other life, and I do. I rotated myself and slowly lowered him onto the chair. I saw a smile light up across his face as I placed him down. He knows that he is going outside and that for just a couple hours he can escape the confines of the four walls of the nursing home and of his bed and he can feel the warm sun rays on his face. I took his chair by the back handles, wheeled him out of the room, to the elevator and into the outside. Walking him down the street has always been an ordeal. People stop and stare at the gape-faced man in a wheelchair making T-Rex arms and flapping his hands slightly. I sigh and just keep walking. I try not to let it bother me. No one has ever approached the two of us—I think they would know better. I am like the service dog; an extension of this man to enhance his abilities. They know to stay away, from both him and from I. He points at a garden of flowers that had recently bloomed on the street. They are quite pretty. Lilies, Irises, orchids, and roses, dancing in the afternoon sun. I

slowly push him closer to see. A smile lights up across his face as we move in. At the waterfront are a flock of ducks and geese, I hear other birds chirping in the trees nearby. The sky a crisp blue and the afternoon sun reflecting on the water. I watch him move his head slowly to gaze at the horizon. We have seen this exact same image for three days in a row, I think as I slump over on his chair. Sometimes I wish I had not been given the gift of enlightenment. I could be perfectly content to simply stare out into the scenery. Just be happy to be alive. I wonder if that is what he thinks. “Birds!” I hear him say softly. I snapped back and wheeled him closer to a male mallard who was standing by the water’s edge. His magnificent purples and teals almost sparkled in the sun. It’s a duck, I said to myself. I try to be cheerful for him. He has a severe form of Cerebral Palsy; I and the rest of the attendants working in the Long Term Care Facility are the only way that he does anything. Otherwise, he would just be in his bed all day and night, lying in his own filth. Hell, he would probably be dead if it was not for us. His parents gave him up two years ago when they retired. They had taken care of him long past what they thought they were going to had they had a normal child.It was time they were set free, at least that was their take. So they, like so many other families before them, dumped him off on our doorstep, gave us the cash and had his disability funds transferred directly to us. I guess they would rather pay someone to wipe his ass than wipe his ass themselves. Wiping your child’s ass is cute when they are a baby, not when they are 40. I chuckle every time I think about it. You start to develop a sick sense of humour working here (Jesse you sick son of a bitch). If you were to look at his history—we keep visitation logs of all our residents— it would tell you that his parents hardly visit, and he doesn’t have anyone in the means of friends. We are his only company. I look down at my watch to notice that it is past three-thirty in the afternoon and I need to get him back before four. At approximately four-fifteen, one of the nurses comes in to read the residents on his floor a chapter from one of the books in the library before getting set up for dinner. I turned the chair around and started to head home.

“Bye Bye,” I heard him say as the chair moved away. I dropped him off in the reading room at six minutes ed four. The evening nurses would take him and the other residents through supper and send him to bed after the activities. I have taken the evening shift a few times here. They are a bit more laid back as a large number of the patients simply occupy themselves with watching TV or each other when they can. I would often get stuck I reading Huck Finn to a man with Alzheimer’s in the seniors’ wing upstairs. Since different individuals looked after him on different days, we often did not keep track of the chapters and he could not . As much as possible, staff would leave marks and messages on sticky-notes in books to help us along. Occasionally I would just start from a random chapter and read until he had had enough. I think I’d gone through the whole book three times. By the third run through I would just bounce around the book, and add things in just for my own sanity. I had hoped he would notice, may be a glimmer that he had not completely slipped away. He seemed quite delighted to simply hear my voice. He’d claimed that I reminded him of his Grandson whom he has not seen in years, or so he says. His Grandson comes approximately every other week. My colleague has been called everything from Bradley to Brian—his name is Brendan. He has 16 of the same snow-globe sitting on various shelves and nooks in his bedroom. They scatter light and twinkle. I wiped my face as I head down the hallway to my locker. As I walked ed the break room I saw a few of my colleagues setting up to play poker after their shift. I heard a voice from within the room. “Hey Jesse!” I recognized Sara calling me in to play poker with the gang. They typically do it every Thursday right after work. I guess as a way to socialize and the time. No one has ever lost a large sum of money. Its all for fun and they would help each other out if anything really bad happened. I used to really enjoy playing with them. Sometimes we’d go out for drinks after. “Hi Sara!” I said to her. Sara was one of the nurses working at the home, about the same age as me but always seemed leagues ahead.

“You want to come in?” she said with a smile. I quietly shook my head trying not to look at her. Not tonight. I quickly changed and headed on my way. The bus ride back to my apartment is approximately thirty minutes long. I sat with my head tilted back and my left hand slightly out the window, feeling light spring breeze. Next to me sat a woman who did not seem to understand the invention of headphones, nor common courtesy, for I could hear her music belting out of her ears. I hope she grows deaf in her old age. I imagine myself pulling her headphone from her ear and screaming into it, that’s nice Jesse! I got off at my stop and quietly walked the short walk to my apartment building. My apartment is a small one bedroom on one of the upper floors of the building. The bachelor-pad, the man cave, having a place like this gave me more disposable income. That is what I told myself when I rented it days after my 21st birthday. I was still in the landed full time job at a major care facility/nursing home after bouncing around for about eight months after graduation phase. I guess you could have called it my bright-eyed and bushy-tailed phase. Resting upon my wall is my Personal Worker certification dated to four years ago. Alongside it a certificate in Social Work which I picked up on the side. I wanted to help people; I do it every day. Taking care of those who are unable (or simply less able) to take care of themselves. There are dishes in my sink from three days ago, the kitchen counter is damp, there are pots on my stove-top with residue from meals past on them, my bed is not made, and there is a yellow ring inside of my toilet bowl—just to name a few. The more responsibility was put upon me, the less I felt the need to keep up with responsibility in my personal life. I guess this is my way of claiming my freedom, in a place that is truly mine. Or maybe I have just become a lazy slob. Everyone else just comes first. I tell myself there is no time for this saunter over to my bed. Just after six-o-clock; Lorazepam, Abilify and the trusty sleeping pill; a concoction I take every night, one to calm me down enough so that I can sleep, the other to two so that I do not yell and scream at everyone and walk out of work the next day. Trust me honey, one might think it makes me into a mindless zombie, but it is what keeps food on the table and money in my pocket for now.

The money I need for them ironically. Down the hatch, they go as I slump onto my mattress and close my eyes. I am lying on the ground outside at night. The cool grass feels damp on my hands. I run my fingers through a small clump beside me. As I move my hand I gently graze the hand of the person sitting beside me. I can feel their presence close to me. My mind tells me it is that of a young woman, but I do not see her face: just an outline in the night. Above us is the swirling night sky. The band of the Milky-way arcs over us as though we are deep in the countryside, far away from the light pollution of the city. I have not seen stars like this since I was a small child. Only in my dreams can I conjure up such beauty. The smoky nebulae swirl and the flickering stars almost seem to dance. I reach my hand over and place it onto the hand of the person beside me? Do I know her? Who is she? Her hand feels soft and warm to the touch. I hear the grass shutter beneath her as she inches closer to me. Suddenly the ground around me turns to liquid and I plunge deep into the watery abyss. The cold water pierces my skin; I have to fight vigorously to keep from drowning. I feel myself being swept away in the currents. I close my eyes and let my body go limp. I opened my eyes and awoke in a shutter just after 4 am. It was just a dream, I told myself. Those dreams been occurring more and more, every time I feel good and happy, I am suddenly drowning and screaming for my life. I slowly lifted myself up to sit on the side of my mattress. Rubbing my hands together, they felt moist and clammy. There was nothing I wanted to do more than crawl right back into bed, but I pushed myself up. My body felt like it weighed 400 lbs; it took every ounce of effort I had to stand. I made my way over to my computer desk and opened up my laptop. I noticed that my supervisor, Harold, had sent me an email. He must have sent it to me last evening. Curiously, he did not mention anything to me before this. He requested my presence in the morning before work. I rubbed my face in anxiety; this cannot be good. What could I be doing wrong? At seven AM., I stepped outside to go to work. The morning air was cool and crisp and felt thick with moisture across my face. I looked up to see puffy clouds carpet the sky as though it were on the edge of rain. Just another sign that I

should roll back into bed and forget about reality, I told myself. But I continued on, hoping that the rain would hold out until I got to the bus stop.

Chapter 2

Harold’s office is quite large, almost the same size as my bedroom. As I sit on the chair in front of his desk and gaze at the four walls, my legs twitch rapidly in my seat. I make as little eye with him as possible. He is looking over my employment record. I have been working hard, always on time, what could he want? “Jesse,” he began. He handed me a folded up letter. “You’re laying me off?” I asked as I skimmed through the letter he handed me. Was this just a nice way of letting me go? This is for your own good Jesse,” he said to me. “If you want, you can come back and work part time, but you need to take a break! We need to do the paperwork so that you can qualify for employment insurance,” he replied. “Take a break? So this is a formality?” I said as I slammed the piece of paper on the desk. I wanted to rip it up, tear it to shreds! But I did not. “Look at yourself Jesse,” he began. “You’re constantly tired, you slouch over patients’ wheelchairs, and you come to work hunched over with your hair unkempt.” I instinctively patted my hair down as he said that to me. “You sit by yourself slouched over at lunch. You barely talk to any of the patients, or your coworkers.” Conversing with the patients is not in my job description. Not like any of them have anything ground-breaking to say. Did Sara tip him off? She was always such a suck-up. “Your head is always low and you are just doing the bare minimum. Our residents like to be greeted; make them think that this is more than just a job to you. Their families are paying us after all. If this is a job, then go work at

Loblaws!” I let out a sighed. He was right; I have been going on autopilot lately. “I know you are a good employee. You’re reliable and you do a good job. I just want you to put some spirit into your work. Take a break, enjoy yourself.” I should have at 6-10 months of employment insurance available. “What will you write on my record of employment?” “That you are being laid off and returning in the beginning of the new year.” May was waning out and June was upon us; the weather was getting warmer. I could take an extended vacation on 60% of my income. I could rest up, see my parents, some old friends, I could even look for other employment options. “We will pay you out whatever vacation pay you have and if you need any help just ask me.” “So you are just letting me take off for the next six to eight months?” Harold shrugged, “I will see what I can do to get you back sooner. I may put you from five-pm till ten at your regular pay twice-a-week. This should top up your income enough. If you want to or need to come back after 6 months, just let me know. And if you need any other financial assistance, just let me know. This also gives us an opportunity to hire someone new on contract whom does not have a lot of experience for less and train them up.” That was just enough hours to keep me here so that I couldn’t run away. How convenient! To top it off, he had to squeeze business into it, it could not all be about altruism and comion. “So what should I do throughout the day?” I asked. I had been working so much that my brain was drawing a blank on what to do with all this spare time. He handed me another piece of paper. “I want you to check it out.” It was a pamphlet for the Independent Living Centre a few blocks from here. “They are always looking for people to donate their time. They are particularly short on people with real background and experience.”

Because they operate on volunteers and no one wants to work there. He is making me do charity work. “So instead of taking care of disabled people for pay, you want me to take care of them for free?” “Well, it is a lot more hands off than here,” he says with a chuckle, “Their people are typically more high functioning than what you are used to dealing with”, he said with a chuckle. Great, that probably means I will have to socialize with them too. He is volunteering me to do charity work while on EI. I should just use this time to look for a new job. “What if I just look for a new job?” Clever Jesse, clever! Harold shrugged, “It’s your prerogative, it’s just a suggestion. Consider it personal development. A few other staff have volunteered there or have taken co-operative assignments. I have even offered the same arrangement to a few people. Ask them about their experiences.” “This is a tough job and sometimes people need a break to de-stress. Explore other avenues and connect with people on different levels. Make you why you are here.” He answered. Why me? Defeated I finally asked, “So what am I doing for the rest of today?” “Relax, think some things over. I have to pay you for the day anyway. You will later take Mr. Johnson for a walk for one last time, as usual,” he answered. We cannot forget to take my wheelchair-friend for a walk now can we? “So, you give me the day off on a Friday – you want me to go to the centre and check them out right now don’t you? You are twisting my arm.” “I cannot make you go there; I am only making a suggestion, although, I do know quite a few people who work there, and they would let me know, if you did show up,” he replied. I slipped the letter into my pocket and slinked out of his office. The personal workers wear purple scrubs while the nurses wear bright red to pink colours; the one male ed nurse in our wing typically wears light turquoise scrubs. I have seen him in the deep red scrubs once; he dawned the soft blue-green ones today in the locker room. I reached into my locker to

pull out my work clothes but then I let them go. I felt them slip out of my hands like sand at the beach. Almost four years, and this was the thanks I got? They floated down and gently landed on the floor of my locker. The sound of footfalls and people rummaging through their lockers combined into an eerie muffle such that I could not tell where one particular sounds were coming from. I felt a slight tap on my shoulder and a shudder crept up my spine. I turned around to see Sara dressed in bright pink scrubs, her blonde hair already tied back for the day. She had a smile and on her face as she looked at me with impatience in her eyes. I simply stared back. “How’s it going?” she asked me. I gave a slight smile and replied “well.” “What’s the old fart got for you today?” I quickly look at the clock, it reads 8:52 am. “Can I talk to you a little more privately?” I asked her. I have worked with Sara as long as she started here. She started here as her nursing practicum with the university the same year I got hired on as a care worker full time. She got hired on as a full time nurse after graduation, just one year after. With her working as a nurse, and on her way to being a lead nurse, she is often guiding me and telling me what to do now. Sara complied and walked me outside of the locker-room/break-room area and into the hallway. My hands were shaking as I opened the folded up piece of paper. “I’ve been given a real special assignment.” I told her. “Not only did he lay me off, but he gave me the suggestion to volunteer my time at the Independent Living Centre. What a drag?” I watched her face and head go limp for a brief moment as I said this. She quickly regained her posture however. “So Harold volunt-told you to go take a stress leave,” she replied with a slight smirk. “A stress leave?” “Yea; he does it a lot, thinks it will help increase worker morale instead of working us like factory dogs. It’s his way of stroking his own ego.”

So him laying me off is some strange-cloaked good deed to society? “Look, it cannot hurt to go check the place out. You’ll be on E.I. right, so go get paid to volunteer for a bit... Take a break. Jesse...” her voice trailed for a second. I glanced up at the clock to see that it was 9:00, “Thanks for the chat, you really set the record straight,” I told her before darting off. “Sure,” she sad before making her way off to work. I trudged out of the building, stomping down the hallway to the doors. Before I left the building, I took one more look back into an empty hallway. I stepped outside onto the wet ground. The air was thick with mist, and the sky still covered in clouds. It did in fact rain while I was inside. With no bus in site, I began walking in the vague direction of my apartment. My hands stuffed in my pockets the entire time, scrunching up the paperwork Harold had sent me. Where did I go wrong? I graduated four years ago from my Personal Worker college program and had gotten the job at the home shortly after. I was not ecstatic, I simply felt satisfied. Vindicated that my hard work paid off and that could just work here and help people. I would check people’s vitals, I would inform nurses, I would help profoundly disabled people with normal daily activities that I simply took for granted. There was one girl with severe Muscular Dystrophy. She could only walk a few steps on her own and otherwise had to use a wheelchair and crutches to get around. I helped her put on a green and yellow sundress, before going outside on a summer’s day. She was rail-thin and by the time I had helped her into the dress, she looked like a porcelain doll. She was so pleased with the dress that she had to stand up and do a twirl in the mirror, and I was elated to see the smile on her face. She nearly collapsed after the twirl however. I had to catch her in my arms and place her in her chair to go out. She looked defeated when she fell to her chair. I wanted to give back the dignity to those whom seemed to have had their dignity stolen from them. Taken by a society that no longer cared for them. A society that gawked and stared at them and in some cases treated them as less than human. I also wanted to make the care system better, so that one day, I could be allotted the dignity I deserved, when I finally have to use similar resources. But somewhere along the way of spoon feeding, inserting catheters,

tube feeding and changing diapers, I just did not feel like it mattered anymore. I checked my watch, the bus ought to be coming soon, as I approached a bus stop. I had ed three while walking and not seeing anything come by. I stepped on slowly and sat in the back of the bus.

Chapter 3

The clock in my apartment read 11:30. Now would have been the time I would be getting the residents ready for lunch. For my friend with Cerebral Palsy that would involve sitting him upright in his wheelchair and giving him his meal supplement which is like a really thick milkshake taken through a straw. I would wheel him into the common area so that he could be with other people. I would wipe his face whenever he spits up, which is often. When I was six years-old I’d brought home a rescued bird who’d broken its wing; my parents would not let me keep it, but they helped me call the wildlife centre and the staff there even let me check up on it when it was better. They thought I wanted to be a vet from that day forward – I just wanted to help those I thought could not help themselves. But the more I put into helping others, the less I seemed to help myself. I completed a turn on the spot in the middle of my bachelor apartment. The dishes were stacked high, there was water in the sink that would not go down, and grime on the stove-top. I guess I had some catching up to do. After I’d finished the dishes and cleaned up my apartment, I sat down on my bed and fell back. I proceeded to stare at the ceiling. I imagined the different textures and patterns swirling as the light-fixture spun slowly. It began to lull my asleep. I don’t feel like waking up, I feel like lying in bed and wasting my day away— wasting my life away. It is as if there is a large weight on my chest. Harold has always been good to me and the rest of the staff here, perhaps I should trust him. Sara looked like she wanted to say something to me before I left. I wondered what is was. The apartment was still pretty messed up. Thoughts bounce around in my mind. I checked my watch, it is one-o’clock in the afternoon. I needed to be back for 2 pm. I went back to work to take my favourite patient for a walk and change him if

needed. The walk to the waterfront was uneventful as usual. With the way we take to the waterfront, most people recognize us and do not say anything. We still get stares, but I have learned to ignore the gawking eyes at the man flapping his arms and drooling in the wheelchair. With the warming weather, some people were walking and splashing their feet in the water, it was still quiet cold, but refreshing. It felt good to get a taste of summer early. With my free time, perhaps I could take up canoeing. I wondered if I could get this wheelchair onto a boat. “Would you like to go onto the water?” I said to myself. A seagull swooped down and stood next to us, as if it was hearing my plea. My friend leaned his head toward the bird slightly, as if he was agreeing with me. A group of small children ran past us, kicking up water and sand in our direction. Why today? I asked myself as I closed my eyes. I checked my watch and started to turn the wheelchair around. As I walked back to the home I ed by a building that looked like an old school with a sign out front on it. I was sure I’d ed by the building many times before but never payed close attention to it. The sign read, “Northcrest Independent Living Centre” in large block letters, underneath it read “Independence is Freedom, All Behaviour is Communication.” What could that mean? All behaviour is communication? I wondered what I was communicating to the world right now? Reading that made me want to stand still and not do anything – as if that would be the absence of behaviours, but it would not be. I looked to the building doors to see a woman walk out holding the had of a younger woman (she could be a teenager, I was not sure). She seemed a little old to be holding someone’s hand as if she was being led, but I didn’t know who they were. She could’ve been blind, could have some other kind of disability that required her to hold the other person’s hand. Maybe they were holding hands out of affection for one another. The younger person had long flowing brown hair that framed her face quite well. She was constantly looking down. They turned as they approach the street and walk ed us in the other direction. I turned my head to realize that I had stopped. I really hope I did not linger too long so as to look strange in the street, staring at two people leaving a building. Finishing up the walk felt much longer than it normally did and every step felt like I was trying to draw it out. I would look around for reasons to not find

myself back at the place, only to leave it. I stood in the locker-room just slowly turning and looking at the place. I thought this was my dream. Today felt like a bad nightmare, but I knew everything that happened was true. “Just what are you doing?” I stopped turning to see Sara standing in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning to one side. I looked right at her, “I must look strange.” She laughed, “no, you look like Jesse.” Can’t argue with that. She walked up to me and placed her left arm around my shoulder. “So, what is the plan?” A plan? As if I thought of that. She looked straight into my eyes, I instantly closed them real hard. “I have an idea,” I am taking you out tomorrow. “Tomorrow?” “You had plans?” Sit at home and read and stare at the four-walls. “No.” “Look, think of this time as an opportunity to reconnect with the things that you love. Relax, maybe you will find that this place is not for you. Or you will return with renewed perspective and be able to truly give this place your all.” Is this place really where I want to be for the rest of my years? Hey, if I work here until I retire, I am basically guarantied residence and care here. Is that really worth it. I could get out of here, move to the countryside, or the west coast. My eyes open wide at the idea. “I think that volunteering can be extremely rewarding,” said Sara. Not this again. “Why do people want me to do this so badly?”

She jumped back off me. “Places like this need real talent. And you are real talent Jesse.” “Not enough talent to keep my job!” “Not enough heart to keep your job. Natural talent can only go so far, you need to actually care about what you are doing.” I thought back to the young woman walking out of Independent Living Centre. I would have liked to have met her. “The people here, most are never going to get better. Helping the helpless can be draining. But it can be really rewarding to help someone actually get better and acquire the skills they need and the connections they deserve.” “How do you know so much?” “My brother,” she answered, “He is a client of the Independent Living Centre. I have seen the strides he has made towards self-care and independence. I would like you to meet him. They host skills classes on weekends open to the public. This week is a cooking class. I thought I would invite you there. If you are up for it.” I am not much of a cook. It could be helpful. Worst-case scenario, I learn how to cook something. “Worst case, I learn to cook something.” Sara nodded, “That is the spirit. Jesse, if you don’t want to volunteer there, that is up to you. Nevertheless, don’t spend this time moping around. You won’t get any better and you’ll just keep running into the same old problems. If you are not happy, it will be reflected in your work and in your life.” I nodded in agreement.

Chapter 4

I arrived early Saturday morning at the Independent Living Centre to greet Sara for the cooking class. I slowly walked up the stairs and into the building. As I stepped into the entrance, there was a sign with a yellow arrow pointing left reading “Office” underneath. Just what does Sara think she is going to accomplish? Of course, I began to think, Sara is interested in me. I smiled at the idea; that is what she has been trying to explain to me. She had idolized me from when she worked here for her practicum, and now that she is equal to me, (she is more like my superior, because she is now a nurse). I am likely jumping too many walls thinking about this so soon dazed out. “There you are!” I turned around to see Sara in white capri-pants and a long forest green tank top. Her hair was in a half-up ponytail with rest of her hair draped over her torso. I do not think I ever seen her out of scrubs little along something so flattering. “When was the last time I’d seen you out of scrubs?” I asked. I felt my face flush slightly She laughed, “I am not sure...” Next to her, she was holding the hand of a young man. He had wide-set slit eyes, a small nose, and a tall forehead. She raised the hand attached to the man, “This is my brother Nathan. My mom and I enrolled him in the Spreading Wings Program a couple of months ago.” “Spreading Wings Program?” She looked at her brother with a smile and said, “It’s a program that seeks to help people with intellectual disabilities, developmental conditions, and other barriers learn life skills and live on their own. They live on site, disability funding and other sources cover their rent, and they learn skills like planning, budgeting, and cooking. So that they can transition to living on their own.” “Isn’t that just an excuse for parents to throw the responsibility of their disabled

child, whom would have otherwise moved out of the house and grown up by now, at someone else?” I said with a sarcastic inflection. I didn’t actually believe that parents should just do that. “Watch who you are saying that to!” “Oh, I am sorry; did I just imply that your parents are terrible people to your impressionable brother?” “Jesse, I am trying to help you!” “Sorry, if I just got fired from a job where 80% of the people I take care of are dropped off by their supposed loved ones so that they don’t have to take care of them anymore, and you bring me here boasting about a program for disabled adults that does just that thing!” “Nathan, why don’t you go inside the room, while I talk to Jesse for a moment?” she said to her brother. He let go of her hand and walked off down the hall to the third room on the left. “You wonder why you are here?” “Sorry...?” “Jesse, this is always how you act. You say something extremely gross and uncalled for and then you immediately apologize for it,” she began, once she was sure her brother was out of earshot. “Maybe my parents don’t have the necessary skills to properly transition their twenty-year-old son with Down’s Syndrome into living on his own and they need . You know, they work with parents too. Did you ever think that my parents needed a break from being parents, to an adult? Yes, I know this is not great, and yes this looks bad. Do you just expect parents to become full time caregivers for their disabled adult children? Why put your perfectly normal kid through daycare?” “Put me out of a job!” I replied. “Yes, put all respite care-workers out of a job!” “No, keep respite care for people who actually have nowhere to go!” “So, just because my parents had a disabled child, because they chose to take care of him, rather than abandon him or abort him in the womb. I don’t know if

they knew ahead of time. What else should they have done? No other parent is tied to their child for life just because they chose to have a child. Why are parents of disabled children?” She was at the point of yelling. Thankfully, we were the only people in the hallway. “Places like this are filling a need, a niche in society.” “Should we go inside now?” “Do you want to? I am not going to leave my brother alone now I am?” Her voice was significantly lower. She walked off back towards the room. Well, if she did have feelings for me, I doubt she had any for me anymore. I certainly would not like me if I did not have to live with myself after that! I would not obligate the parents of a child whom society does not view as disabled to take care of them ad-infinitum. I certainly would not wish to have to have that happen. Although, I do believe that parents had an obligation to prepare their child for the world; perhaps that ultimately rests on society instead. Perhaps the best that her parents could have done was turn their son over for extra . Do I apologize to Sara? What did I actually believe? I walked into the room and shot a glancing smile at Sara as I entered. I noticed that her and her brother were standing in front of a table that had upon it a hotplate, a pot, boxes of pasta, jugs of water, bottles of tomato sauce, various vegetables, tongs and other cooking paraphernalia. The room was set up with four rows of three of these tables, with two people standing behind each of them. Except for one table to the right of Sara and Nathan. At that table was a young woman who looked somewhat familiar. “Alright, is that everyone?” I heard a woman’s voice speaking behind me at the front of the classroom. “Do we have a new guest?” she said as I turned to look at her. “Rachel,” she looked at the young woman standing at the table alone, “would you be okay working with this man?” The young woman did not say anything; she merely looked up and nodded. Where have I seen her before? That’s it! I noticed her the other day leaving the centre with that older woman. I quickly glanced at Sara. She said through grit teeth, “Go over there!” It must have been time for class to start. I walked over to where Rachel was standing, as I approached, she shuffled further toward the far edge of the table. She moved as far away from me as she

could while still being able to utilize the workspace given to us. She must be shy. I reached my hand out, “It’s okay,” I said to her. Even though my hand was still about a metre from her body, she recoiled even further. She quickly compressed her arms into her chest and crossed them over her heart, taking up as little lateral space as possible while still facing the front of the class. I could feel her saying: No! I imagined her saying, “please don’t touch me.” I turned around to face the instructor. She was staring right at me. “Not everyone is going to be won over with a friendly handshake my friend,” she said. “Now, without further a-adieu, this is going to be a rather quick lesson today. We are going to be making spaghetti. Seriously? Who can’t turn on a stove and make spaghetti? I watched Rachel slowly pour the water into the pot from the jug that was sitting on the table. She filled the pot half full with water and placed it down on the hot plate. “Now, everyone, I want you to turn the heat on your hotplates to medium. Right in the middle,” the woman upfront exclaimed. I watched Rachel’s hand shake as she turned the knob to the middle. “That’s good,” I said to her. After my first interaction, I was unsure how to encourage her without her freaking out on me. Once the pot was set aside to cook, I started to chop the onion that she gave me. I cut it in half and proceeded to hand Rachel the knife. At first, she stepped back. I turned back to chopping the vegetables up. I felt reach her hand out beside mine. I stopped chopping and handed her the chopping knife. As she took the knife, I moved to stand behind her. I quickly glanced up at the instructor to make sure that I was not crossing a line; she nodded at me. I placed my hand on the piece of onion to stabilize it as she cut it. She did not resist, she did not flinch, and she just kept cutting the onion. She was almost at the end of the onion when she let a small scream and I noticed the colour red against the whiteness of the vegetable. She must have cut herself on the knife. The instructor immediately caught her scream and came over. Without even a word, she took Rachel by the bloody hand and walked her over to the first aid kit at the back, left-hand corner of the room by the door. I found it

strange that she did not ask any questions. She did not ask if the girl was okay. I watched her sit Rachel down on a chair in the corner and place a bandage on her finger, all from the other side of the room. I could tell there was some exchange of words, but I could not hear anything. The instructor turned around and headed back towards me. “I am very sorry she said. Rachel wants to be alone for a bit. If you like, you can finish up and have your meal in the recreation room. She must be embarrassed or something. The noodles boiled well, and there were no noticeable complications after the initial incident. I noticed Rachel leave the classroom around the time I began to pour out the water from the pot. Sara, Nathan and I went to eat in the recreation room. I had put the extra noodles and sauce in a plastic container that the centre let me borrow. I felt a little silly having come here just to end up taking the centre’s food; I could have cooked this at home by myself. Upon sitting down, I noticed Rachel sitting in the far corner of the recreation room on a big sofa-chair. I grabbed the container and walked over to where Rachel was sitting. “Jesse,” I could hear Sara say as I left the table. I bent down slightly to meet Rachel’s eyes. “Would you like some? I mostly made this for you anyway.” She looked up at me. Her eyes went wide as I presented her the food. She reached out to take it from me as I moved my hand back. “How about you come sit at the table with us?” I asked. “I hope you are okay after that!.” She got up and followed me back to the table. On our way back, we ed a bookshelf full of various tabletop games. I could make out various card decks, monopoly and Catan. “Maybe when we are finished eating, we can play a game. Would you like that?” I asked her. “Games,” she said to me. That was the first word I heard her say. Her voice was soft, it sounded years behind her. We approached the table and she sat down beside me. “Look who I found Sara,” I said introducing Rachel. “You look a lot happier than when we left you last.”

Rachel opened up the container and began to eat the food with a fork. “Sorry if Jesse is not the greatest cook,” Sara said jokingly. “Do you go to these classes often?” “Classes often, first time.” Rachel answered. I used to answer that way to my parents when I was young. They never really understood what I was saying. They mostly thought it was cute. It was a bit strange to hear an adult say something like that though. “Are you in the program with Nathan?” Sara asked her. “Yes,” Nathan replied for her. “How long have you been living here for?” I watched her count on her fingers. One-two-three silently. “Three months,” she said. She must still be adjusting, I guess. Maybe her mom still brings her stuff, I thought. That must have been why she was there the other day, I speculated. “Once we are done eating, I thought I would grab a quick game and then we can be on our way?” I suggested. “And then we can be on our way!” said Rachel. What, am I sitting next to a parrot? Does she want me to leave? Does she want us to stay longer? After we had finished, I went to the bookshelf and grabbed a deck of cards. I sat down and flashed everyone on the table the deck. “So, what are we playing?” Sara asked. I was taken aback for a moment. What if Rachel and Nathan couldn’t comprehend the rules of certain games and fall behind? What if one of them has a meltdown or something? I felt myself sweat as I paused. “Nathan and I really like to play rummy,” Sara said.

Of course, that’s an easy game, make three of a kind or a run. Can’t be that hard. I looked over at Rachel and then back at the deck of cards. “Okay,” I began. “We each start with seven cards,” I continued to explain the rules of the games as I dealt out the cards to everyone. To my surprise, Rachel picked up the game rather quickly. After only three turns, she yelled, “Rummy!” and splayed her hand onto the table. It was three aces and a straight 5-6-7-8 all in clubs. I was mildly impressed, especially considering I was sitting on three pairs and a loan card when she called it. Sara checked her watch, “I ought to get going,” she said before getting up. “Yes, I suppose I should too,” I said. “Rummy!” Rachel said. I smiled. “Looks like Rachel wants to keep playing though.” I smiled, “how about you go and I will catch you on Monday?” “What are you going to do Nathan?” Sara asked. “Minecraft!” he answered. Sara smiled, “alright, but not for too long. You going to be okay to make dinner?” Nathan nodded. She stood up, gave Nathan a hug and then proceeded to walk over towards me. Should I give her a hug? I stood up. Rather than open her arms out for me, she simply gave me her right hand. I took it and gave her a handshake. “Thanks for coming out. I hope this helped.” “Yea, it did.” I watched Sara leave and sat back down to play another round with Rachel. Nathan stood up and left shortly after.

This time I handed her the deck of cards. “Can you deal 7?” I asked. “Deal 7,” she replied and took the deck from me.

Chapter 5

Rachel and I played games together until I noticed that it was approaching 3:30 in the afternoon. “I should get going Rachel. I am sorry.” Rachel just nodded. “Would you like me to play with you again sometime?” I asked. She nodded. “Next weekend. Make cookies.” “We are making cookies next weekend? Okay, I will try to make it.” “I will try to make it. Then he never showed up….” Rachel’s voice halted. I walked over to Rachel, “hey, how about I give you a hug? Is that okay?” I opened my arms. She stayed seated on the chair. “You really ought to not just ask to hug our clients whom you barely know.” I heard a voice coming from behind me. I turned around to see behind me the woman who ran the cooking class earlier today. “How about you wrap by up saying goodbye to Rachel here and come to my office before you leave?” “What if I just walk out?” I asked. “Well, if you are interested in helping one of my favourite little clients, you would be advised to come to the main office. I don’t bite.” What if I want you to bite? I thought. I watched her walk out from under the doorway and down the hallway back to the office. I followed five seconds after. I entered the office and sat down in the spin chair. I immediately made one full rotation on the chair before realizing the woman sitting opposite me on the other

side of the desk. Once I came to, I realized she was smiling at me. “You know, many of our clients do that,” she said. “Sorry”, I instinctively felt myself straightening my posture and looking right into her eyes. It took me only six seconds before I had to look away. My eyes quickly moved to her nameplate: Charmaine Brown. It is quite the simple, yet elegant name. She has long wavy brown hair, almond-shaped hazel coloured eyes and black-cherry lipstick on. She let out a laugh as her head flung back in amusement. “So, you are Jesse? You act so much like some of our clients” I nodded silently. Her clients? “I noticed that you seemed to have taken a liking to Rachel.” I nodded, “she seems nice. A little strange, but nice.” “Do people call you a little strange but nice?” she asked. I felt like I was being probed. I did not reply. “I am Charmaine, but you probably already read my name-tag. I am a socialworker here at the centre and Rachel is one of the clients I work one-on-one with. We also each kind of play a facilitator for activities for the clients. I also get stuck playing receptionist from time to time. That is funding for you!” “That’s a lot!” “But hey, I get to work with amazing people. Like Rachel! So Sara mentioned to me that you were interested in volunteering your time here.” I sat back into the chair and rolled my eyes, “Sara,” I said with a sigh. “Your feelings about Sara telling me this and about being set up aside. I can see you like playing card games. Every Wednesday evening, we typically have someone from the community come in to volunteer their time to teach our clients various tabletop games. It teaches them concentration, cooperation and communication skills, along with whichever skill the game itself exploits. It also

gives our clients an opportunity to socialize with each other and with the public. Our other volunteer has had some personal obligations come up and thus an opening for this Wednesday coming” she explained. “No offence, but I am not in the mood to teach these people Shoots and Ladders or Monopoly, or Sorry,” sorry. “You must have a very low opinion of these people.” “You taught these people how to make spaghetti…” The phrase “these people” kept coming out with weirder and more obvious inflections each time each of us said it. “Many of these people were never given the opportunity to learn what you think of as basic skills as children or teens. How about teaching them games like Catan, or Taboo, or Treasure Island. You could even just go for something like Poker or Rummy,” she said with a smile, “As long as no real money is involved.” “I suppose we could play for candies or simply use betting chips,” I suggested. She smiled, “another thing, how would you feel about working more closely with Rachel? She seems quite fond of you. People don’t usually give her the time of day like you did. They say it is hard to be around someone who recoils into a little ball when you try to get close, or that it is hard to have a conversation with someone who responds by simply repeating what is said to her and going off into her own little world.” “It might be a little strange. But walking in, this is a place that provides for people with certain challenges, so the people who work with her ought to be ready for that.” Why am I playing right into her? “Tell me more about Rachel. What are some of your goals for her and what have you done to help her thus far?” “Keep that up and you might just have my job,” she replied with a smirk, “Her mother enrolled her in a program that helps young adults with disabilities learn life skills so that they will be able to live more independently.” “Spread your wings!,” I said.

“Ya, that is the one. Sara must have mentioned that.” she said with a smile. “Anyhow, They typically live here while they are on the wait-list for community housing or until they get a place of their own. So her mother would like to see her be more independent. It would be beneficial for her to be able to do things for herself more. The goal after all is for her to be able to live on her own, or at least with less than currently.” “Sounds easy enough. What is her…?” Disability? The last word hung at the tip of my tongue. “You want to know her condition?” “Yes!” “She has a form of autism. She does not say much and typically only speaks in short bursts or in echolalia. She likes to write things down and sometimes communicates via writing and electronic means. She starts talking more once you get to know her better. If she likes you.” “So, I guess that’s good.” “She works about twenty hours a week sorting and organizing documents at the library archives. We were able to set that up. She loves it there. They just let her work in the back all day going through documents and old maps.” “Smart girl!” I remarked. “You might think...” “Oh?” “Well, on paper, her IQ is only about 92, She was also measured to have the emotional intelligence of an eight-year-old. I am not going to pretend I know what those clinical papers mean by that statement” Charmaine answered. What does that even mean? “She has a lot of trouble with daily routine and living on her own. She currently just raids our food bank while her mom drops off very basic groceries every couples of weeks. She comes home after being heck knows where for hours and

not actually having anything done. Once home she will just hide in her room on her laptop.” That is different from your average twenty-year-old how? “I thought to introduce more structure into her life by scheduling her to come for the weekly cooking sessions and to spend time in the recreation room for games. I hope that she will commit these tasks to her routine and that she will continue to come out. Maybe if she had a volunteer to spend time with her and schedule things with, she would be able to get more experience planning and getting out. People like her work best when they have a well structured and consistent routine to follow.” “I don’t know what I could do for her”I said scratching my head. “What do volunteers usually do for your clients here?” “Often it is as simple as being a friend. Many of these people have been shunned form society and have a hard time making friends. Some don’t have the skills to make friends on their own the way normal people do. They have grown up being seen as less than human, as if the world just hates them for existing. One of our volunteers, she is really sweet. She works with one of our clients who uses a guide-dog. She will take her grocery shopping; help her pick out clothes. Having a dog can only go so far. She will even take her dog to the park for some downtime! Guide dogs still need to be dogs, sometimes. This also gives her some time to rest and be alone.” Why couldn’t I get the blind person? Why did I get stuck with the trouble person? Can’t I just learn some sign language or something? “What do I want you to do for Rachel? Share your experiences with her, open up to her, take her places, teach her some life-skills. I want her to come out of her shell and be a strong and independent woman. Between you and me, I think she is a lot smarter than a test can measure. She has a way with games.” “I believe so too,” I said. She smiled at me. I could tell that she was not telling me everything about Rachel. Perhaps there were some things that she wanted me to figure out for myself. Or some things

she just could not tell me thanks to some confidentiality agreement. She also seemed to be examining me as we spoke. Like she was attempting to armchair diagnose me or play psychologist with me in secret. Was I a game to her? It made me a little uncomfortable. “So what do you say Jesse? Can I see you this Wednesday and potentially next week on?” I smiled and nodded, “Of course, anything for Rachel!”

Chapter 6

It had been three weeks since Harold laid me off with the promise of giving me some reduced hours if I needed. I had started working twice a week at the carecentre from three till eight in the evening. He placed me on intake and roles. I did a lot more paperwork than I was used to, it gave me a well needed escape from focusing on the residents. He also let me decide if I still wanted to take patients for walks or tend to their needs. I met with new residents (or potential residents) and went over the paperwork to make sure everything checked out. Coming in at three meant that I no longer greeted Sara or any other familiar people as I came in. It often meant that Sara was getting ready to leave just as I was arriving. I sat down at the front desk for at the beginning of my shift, reading the intake paperwork for the day. Patients’ families typically submit paperwork and payment prior to ittance. Round-the-clock care-taking is not cheap. There also needs to space available for new patients to come in. Since our patients don’t usually get better, the only way someone leaves here is if they die, they run out of money, someone else opts to take care of them, or they get transferred to another facility. Sara was right, taking care of people who do not get better is depressing. I think this is what people call “comion fatigue.” Caring until you cannot care anymore. We in addition receive healthcare funding from the government to take in patients that cannot afford care, or to cover emergency expenses for patients. I looked up to see one of the nurses pushing a wheelchair accompanied by a tall male police officer in full uniform. He was carrying a black suitcase and an envelope at his side. In the wheelchair was another woman. Her body was stiff and her head fell to the side, limp. She stared at the ceiling with her mouth wide open. I looked down at my paperwork to see who was due to come in at the start of the shift. The name on the intake for was “Annabelle Grace Matheson.” I would often get a sick choke of laughter whenever I saw these pretty names given to these people, as if disabled people were some kind of gift from God. Why else, would they someone name a baby girl Mercy? Sometimes their names had weird hidden biblical messages of love. I guess you have to have a sick

sense of humour to work here, right? Reading the paperwork: the birth year gave her an age of 25. The patient had a chromosomal abnormality wherein she was missing the lower half of chromosome thirteen. This condition often resulted in severe intellectual disability, muscle weakness as well as affecting the heart and most organ systems. Looking at her, it was a sheer miracle that this person has lived to adulthood. Skimming through the paperwork that had been faxed in, the woman had been dropped off at the police station not very far from here a few days ago and had been staying at the hospital awaiting a more long-term placement (while they tried to figure out what to do with her I mean). That explained the police officer and lack of family information on the application. I sighed, another disabled person left to the hands of the state. I continued reading. Monitor blood pressure, adult diapers, bed pan, turn over often. These were the things that stood out for me. I moved to stand up and get the wheelchair for the client. Harold was ten feet away from me. As I stood up, he glanced over at me and shook his head. My job was to stay at the desk and focus on the intake procedure, not directly help people. I bowed my head and kept reading. Feeding tube, nonverbal, meltdowns, frequent seizures... “I think I am going to throw up,” I said to Harold. He did not respond. How did the mother ever manage? The nurse and the police officer approached the desk and handed me an envelope. He smiled at Harold. “I wish I could have come here on better circumstances,” said the police officer. I looked up at his badge and name-tag, “Joseph Bradford,” it said in big block letters. “Her mother dropped her off with her birth-certificate, health card, some medical records—very minimal—and a cheque in an envelope. We called the centre and got her a bed as soon as we could.” Harold looked at the man. “These kinds of things happen, part of the job,” he

said, “Just be happy we had a bed available to take her in as quickly as we could” he said. It also helped that she came with a wad of cash, I thought. The officer looked down at me. I noticed my hands shaking, which caused the paperwork in them to vibrate. “No one ever likes these kinds of situations,” he said to me, “But we do appreciate you taking her in.” I glanced back at the paperwork, “everything checks out!” I said. It usually does, Harold is the one who reviews the paperwork before people get accepted, my presence is really just a formality. “Did she leave anything else?” I asked, “clothes, anything?” He lifted the suitcase slightly before gently placing it on the floor in front of the desk, “Just this suitcase,” he said. I put the paperwork on the desk and moved it over to the police officer. “Release form,” I said, pointing my finger to the signature box. He took the pen on the desk and signed the release form, barely stopping to read it. He looked up and eyed Harold, “She’ll be okay from here?” he asked. I looked back up at her as he said that. I watched her head jerk upwards, her entire body started to shake. The staff member holding the wheelchair moved around to the front of the chair, gripped her wrists tightly with her hands and leaned forward slightly. I could see her knuckles clench from where I sat. My heart raced. They taught us this technique in training to limit movement and reduce harm to the patients. After about 90 seconds of shaking, Annabelle seemed to have calmed down. Her body fell limp again. I felt myself let out a sigh of relief. The nurse released her grip and moved back to the side of the chair. Looks like she gave us a taste of what we were in for. “Jesse will escort the new resident with my staff to her new room,” Harold said. “Page three of her paperwork. You know where to put the paperwork after, right

Jesse?” Now I get up and do the deed, I thought. “In the plastic envelope at the end of the bed,” I replied. I took the paperwork and Annabelle’s luggage and guided the nurse wheeling her to the room. She would be placed in the wing with the other disabled adults who require basic care such as feeding and toiletting. I felt guilty for being relieved to not have to be the one tending to this person anymoe. She just decided to quit taking care of her now? I thought I let us into the room, slipped the paperwork into the envelope at the end of the bed. “You got it from here?” I asked the nurse. She nodded. She lowered the bed flat and began to gently lift her up. I let myself out and closed the door behind her. Over the years, I have tried to force myself to think of the patients over the caregivers. She must live an immensely lonely life. Now she will spend the rest of her days in this institution with someone checking up on her every so many hours. It somehow gives me comfort that people with these kinds of conditions tend to have a significantly shortened life expectancy. Perhaps she will only have to endure twenty to thirty years rather than forty or more. Mind you, being in a place like this must shorten a person’s lifespan alone. I know it likely has shorten mine. During my break I decided to take a walk. I proceeded down the pathway to check up on our newest resident. As I got closer and closer I could feel my feet beginning to drag and my pace slowing. I opened the door and let myself in. Annabelle was laid down on the bed with the head of the mattress propped up slightly so that her body was not completely flat. There was a strap around her torso just below her breasts and one on each of her wrists, which were placed limp on the bed bars. I saw her eyes turn towards me as I walked in. This is considered a safety measure, so that she doesn’t hurt herself, or anyone else. I walked over to the chair in the room and sat down in it next to her. I moved to touch her hand with mine, it was cold. “I know you may not think so, but your mom loves you dearly,” I said. I almost expected her to start speaking to me, though she did not. “She cared for you as long as she could. She lifted you up when you could not yourself. She chose to keep you, despite the odds. She fed you; she clothed you. Now it is our turn, to

do the best that we can for you. People would often rather give money than give time. As we get older, our time is more precious than money, and your mother just wanted her time back. Sometimes, we all want our time back.” I lowered my head. “Touching.” I heard a voice and looked up. It was Harold. “I had a feeling you would be here. Come on, it is time to get back to work. Someone will be along to see her before the night is out,” he said. I stood up and walked out of the room, taking one last look at Annabelle as I closed the door.

Chapter 7

I am meeting with Charmaine today to discuss her goals for me spending time with Rachel. I'd been going to the Independent Living Centre every Wednesday for the past three weeks. Each week I would set up and play games with the residents and teach them games that encourage communication and working together. Nathan and Sara have even been ing us. Rachel is a very sweet girl, and she picks up games very quickly. She beat me in almost every game I taught her only after the first or second shot. She beat me in Monopoly the first time we played, and she barely said a word the entire game. I only her shouting out numbers for owing rent. I sat down in her office chair, I made sure not to spin the chair this time less I draw attention to myself again. I could feel my knees shaking as I waited for her to speak. I looked up at her to see her going through a book. She put the book down and handed me a stack of money. My eyes went wide. There must have been fifty dollars there. “Why are you giving me money?” I asked. “Take Rachel out to an activity. Bring back all receipts and any change. Let me know if you end up using any of your own money.” “So, am I like her big brother or something?” “You could work with that model...” she answered. “Where do you get money like this?” I asked surprised. “Her mother gives us money from her disability funding, we have government funding, we are considered a charity so we occasionally get money from weird rich people who like to throw money around to make themselves look better.” “That was thorough.” “I thought you would appreciate thorough. As a charity, our financial records are

publicly available.” I didn’t unappreciated it. “Thanks for the tip. You certainly do your job. What should Rachel and I do?” “Let her have some fun. Take her somewhere, have an activity. Let her get acquainted with you. She talks to me, I will know if you guys did not have fun.” Is that supposed to be a threat? “If you guys work well together, teaching her to be independent will be easier.” “If you say so.” Sounded like she was trying to get me to earn her trust. “Any recommendations?” “Bowling, swimming, a museum...” she replied, “, I will know if you take her out to a bar to go drinking.” “I was absolutely not going to do that,” I reassured her. Although, swimming... “Well, good. No spending our money on boos.” Wow, lots of rules in this place... She stood up and walked around her desk towards the door. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. She handed it to me, “In case you need this.” “This is Rachel’s ID?” I asked staring at the purple card with her face on it. “Ya, I keep Rachel’s ID. Because her mother is considered to have guardianship over her, I as her worker hold onto her ID.” “Guardian, she is 20 right?” “Yes but the courts do not consider Rachel capable of making certain decisions. Part of her time here will be to for the courts to determine that she can...” “Okay. So Rachel is not considered a full adult?” I could feel my voice rising. “You tell me this now?” “Look Jesse, I don’t make the rules. If I had it my way she would get her ID and

she would be an adult. I know you see her as an adult. But I also have a job,” she said. As my voice went up, her voice went low and stern. I knew her hands were tied. “You got a cellphone?” she asked. “Of course,” I said pulling it out of my pocket. She took hers off her desk and started touching the screen. “Give me you number,” she said. I slowly told her my cellphone number. I watched her type it into her phone. “I am texting you so that you have mine. Only call me if there is an emergency you cannot handle,” she said. I heard my phone beep to tell me that I’d received a new message. Now I really felt like a babysitter. “Thanks, can we go now?” I asked. It had been twenty minutes. “Yes, As another precaution, I will be accompanying you to Rachel’s apartment for you to see her.” I rolled my eyes. “That is fair I guess. I would not know where her living quarters are anyway.” I already cleared it with Rachel to let you see in her apartment here. Government funding covers a portion of the rent, the rest just comes off her disability funds. It’s kind of like community housing.” Charmaine walked over to the door to lead me to Rachel’s apartment I took the money off the desk and stashed it in my pocket along with her ID card. I stood up and let myself out of the room to follow her. We walked down the hallway, through a set of doors, up two flights of stairs and into another hallway before reaching Rachel’s apartment on the left side of the hallway. There were four apartment doors on the floor. Charmaine knocked on the door three times, “Rachel,” she said.

“Open!” I heard her say through the door. “Seriously?” “Open door policy,” she said, “At least while they are home and it is during the day.” Then why even bother knocking? Charmaine slowly opened the door and we let ourselves in. Rather than an apartment, Rachel lived in a room with a kitchen, a closet all in one. There was a desk with a computer on it, a dresser and two large book shelves that acted like a wall in the middle of her room. They bordered off part of the room to create a quasi-bedroom. There were a few chairs and a small table in the kitchen. It almost reminded me of student living. “This is her apartment?” I asked. I’ve seen university dorm-rooms that provided more space. “Is there even a bathroom?” Charmaine put her finger to her mouth and said “sshhh.” Rachel appeared from her make-shift room wearing noise-cancelling headphones on her ears. She took off her headphones and ran towards me, “Jessie’s here,” she said. She stopped just before touching me. She bounced up and down on her toes in front of me. How old is she again? “OK, so Jessie has offered to take you out for a bit,” Charmaine said to her. “Is there somewhere you would like to go over anywhere else?” She stopped bouncing and looked right into my eyes. I could tell that she was trying very hard to stay focused and on task. The gesture felt like it had been rehearsed. “Would Jessie take me trampolining?” she asked. Charmaine looked at me for an answer. “Do you know where I would go to take you trampolining?” I asked. I genuinely

had no idea that there was a trampoline park anywhere around here. Rachel nodded her head and ran back towards her bed. She disappeared and then came walking back towards me with what looked like a tablet computer. I smiled. “Would you like to lead the way?” I asked, turning my head towards Charmaine. Rachel nodded and tapped the screen a few times. She turned it around to show me a map. Looking at the blue location dot, it did not seem very far from here. “Good,” I said. “ Rachel, bring him home before 6-o’clock,” Charmaine said as she began to walk out of the room. Bring me home? Who is supervising who again? I checked my watch, it was just after 11am. Plenty of time, I guess. Rachel went into her closet and pulled out what looked like a small gym bag. She slipped the tablet computer into it before walking back to me and grabbing my left arm at the elbow. “This is how we walk together,” she said. Am I leading her like she is a blind person? Rather ironic given that I have no clue where I am going. She walked me out of the apartment and out of the centre. We walked across the street to take the next bus going west. While sitting on the bus I decided to ask Rachel, “where are we getting off?” Rachel grabbed her bag and pulled out what looked to be her black tablet. It was different from her computer tablet; a second glance revealed that is was a boogie board, a device that allows you to write things on it like a white board and erases with the press of a button. I saw her take the stylus and scribble something down. It read, “three more stops then change to bus 24, then seven stops, right in front of trampoline park.” I nodded, “very good,” an idea came to me. “Would you let me use your boogie

board? Let’s have a conversation. I will write something on the board and give it back to you. Once you have seen it, you can erase it and write something new. Then you can give it back to me.” She bowed her head, “Charmaine and my worker said it’s best if I just talk to people.” “You can communicate however you feel with me, what matter’s is that you get your point across and we are having fun,” I said to her. “If you don’t want me to tell Charmaine then I won’t. We can practice talking some other time, maybe someplace a little quieter,” I said encouragingly. She nodded and ed the boogie-board over to me. The border around the written part of it was bright pink. I took the stylus and drew a the outline of a cat. The best cat that I could draw given the medium of choice. I gave it whiskers and a triangle nose. I gave it back to Rachel only to hear her giggle. Was she laughing because it was cute, or because my picture was terrible? She scribbled something onto the board and handed it back, I did not notice her hit the erase button. She handed it back to me. She had written just below the picture, “do you like cats?” I was about to give her an answer, but I erased the board and wrote down on it, “Yes I do. You too?” She nodded. I turned the board back around, refreshed the screen and started drawing a bird. It was a small bird from a side profile with its wing stretched out and upward for flight. It looked to be a sparrow or another generic songbird. I checked over the drawing before revealing it. Rachel looked at it and said, “bunny.” This was not a rabbit? I turned it back to myself and began to draw a crude picture of a rabbit’s head underneath the bird. The announcement for the next stop came over the speaker and I noticed Rachel grab the wire for a stop request. I put the stylus back in the slot and handed her back the tablet. I watched her look at the rabbit before putting the device back in her bag and getting up to leave the bus. I took a look outside to notice that it began to rain. The ground

was wet and the sky was grey and gloomy. I had not properly planned for rain; at least we will be inside for this activity. Rachel did not seem to notice the rain and gloomy hazy skies; her smile kept beaming as if it were the sunniest day.

Chapter 8

We got off the second bus right in front of the indoor trampoline park. The ground was damp and puddles had formed along the sidewalk. At least we would be inside soon. Rachel stepped off the bus and ran ahead of me with her arms splayed out and back as if she were flying. She jumped into puddles as she ran up the sidewalk to the building entrance. I could hear her giggle as the water splashed. As if she were a child enjoying the rain; unabashed by the harshness of the world. Still curious, still full of wonder. I shook my head and began a jog after her, “wait for me!” I called. Her happiness is contagious I guess. Once I accepted the rain, it started to feel refreshing and calming on my face rather than cold and miserable. I caught up next to her panting. Rachel stopped running and bouncing nearly a centimetre before the steps. She grabbed my hand. She halted, straightened her back and looked right ahead. She slowly and carefully took one step at a time up the stares and into the building. She approached the door and opened it wide. Standing beside the held-opened door she asked, “are you coming Jesse.” I looked at her in shock. That felt like the most articulated thing she said all day. Should she really be doing this? Should I even care – I am going to a trampolinepark as an adult, I would have killed to be able to go to a trampoline park as a child. I often wondered why parents drag their kids to places like Disney Land when the kids seem to not even know what’s going on. It’s an excuse to behave like a child; to regain that child-like wonder and relive their childhood, using the kids as an excuse. Why have kids, when you can just relive your childhood for yourself. We do not stop playing because we grew up; we grew up because we stopped playing. Dawn my suit and tie, trade in childhood for a paycheck and responsibility like everyone else. Maybe there is a switch we can use adultmode, child-mode. I followed her into the building. There was a line-up to the front desk to get out tickets. Rachel walked quietly into the line and waited. I could hear a slight muttering coming from Rachel as we waited in line. I

strained myself to listen in. “Do not embarrass me, be a good little girl,” she was saying to herself over and over again. “Are you okay?” I asked. She did not respond. She just looked straight ahead and kept muttering under her breath. I tapped her on the back of her shoulder. She jumped and yelled, “Be a good little girl!” I looked around to see everyone in the queue staring at us. As soon as the words came out of Rachel’s mouth, she lowered her head and went quiet. She silently waited until it was our turn. I looked down at her right hand to see her fist clenched. I approached the counter and stepped ahead of her, “two please,” I said. I the person t the counter the money and they processed the transaction. It was $15 dollars for each of us for an hour and a half in the room. She gave us tickets and each a pair of socks. I looked down at the socks and then over at Rachel to see her pointing at the sign behind the counter. I wondered if we had an option to decline the socks. I looked at the sign, it read: “Trampoline socks with grips must be worn at all times.” Guess that answers my question. Do they give away the socks for free? We grabbed the socks and walked towards the change rooms. Rachel trailed off from me in the direction of the women’s change room. As she got closer, I halted; should she come with me. Can she navigate this on her own. I reached my hand out, but I caught my words. I could not get them out. I lowered my hand again and headed towards the men’s room. If I don’t see her on the other side in fifteen minutes, I know who to call; I told myself. I felt awkward stepping out in rolled up jeans and the T-shirt that I had on under my button-upped collar shirt. Had someone told me we were going to be participating in a physical activity I may have brought a change in clothes. I stepped through the threshold and into the main room of the actual facility. It seemed just enormous. There was a depression in the middle with a four-by-four grid of trampoline beds for people to bounce on. To my right was a foam-pit with a swing-rope and a few smaller trampolines with basket-ball nets on the walls behind them. There was even a volley-ball court set up with two trampolines on either side of the net. I laughed at the idea of people playing volley-ball across a trampoline; sounds dangerous.

I noticed Rachel sitting on the edge with her feet dangling over the grid of trampolines. She had changed out of her jeans and into shorts and a loose T-shirt. I walked up towards her. Would I have chosen this as an option to spend the day? I guess I could have offered bowling, or inline skating, but jumping around on trampolines just likely would not have crossed my mind. I could get seriously hurt here. Guess that was what the waiver was for. I walked up towards her; she looked behind herself to see me coming. As I got closer she leapt down from the ledge and onto the trampoline netting. I watched her stagger herself before regaining her balance. She began to let out a roar of laughter as she started jumping up and down, gaining more air with every leap. She giggled as her hair flew up into the air with every jump. She spun herself around on the spot and flapped her arms as though she was flying. She landed on her bum and then bounced to her feet only to do it again. I was almost mesmerized by her. I saw the shear joy of a child in her as she jumped like it was her first time on that thing. She smiled and laughed as if she did not have a care in the world. Like there was still some kind of unseen magic in this world. That she could just come here and forget about the harshness of life for a little while. How did I lose her wonder? “Jesse!” I heard her say. She stopped bouncing to come walk back up next to me. She began to re-climb back up the threshold to come get me. I slid off the ledge before I could give her the opportunity to get back up. The socks certainly did what they were d to do. I was not slipping and sliding as I imagined I would on a conventional trampoline with normal socks. She grabbed my hands in front of me and started bouncing and giggling. I started to smile (I could not help it, it’s contagious) as I jumped along with her. After about two minutes of jumping with me, she released her hands from me and bounded two trampolines away without stopping in between. I fell back on my butt and watched her in anxiety as she effortlessly cleared the boundary between trampoline beds and kept going. Could I do that? She turned around and started jumping high enough to initiate front-flips in air. A few she landed, a few she fell and got back up. I imagined her soaring with wings on her back. That image of a care-free child

came back to me again. Had I ever seen an adult enjoy themselves’ this much—without copious amounts of alcohol or other drugs? She reminded me of an astronaut, discovering reduced gravity for the first time. Could I be falling for her? But for what? The image of a carefree child that I see right now? Falling for her child-like essence? I can’t… Infatuation is not love; I said to myself. “Jessie!” I heard her call. I was here to jump after all. I followed her over to the trampoline opposite her and began to mimic her jumping high and initiating front-flips. They certainly were harder than they looked. Not that Rachel made them look easy anyway. I don’t think I have done this since I was twelve. Our neighbour had a trampoline in their backyard. Their parents would let me play on it with them every week. My parents saw it as a way to get me off their hands for a little while. Their son just seemed to stop talking to me one day, and I had not been invited over to their house to jump since. They moved shortly after my fourteenth birthday. I don’t quite know what happened. I felt like I could soar above the clouds with each jump. It was as if we did not have a care in the world. I would not mind doing this myself maybe once in a while. It is quite the work-out at the same time. When I was a kid, I felt like I had all the energy in the world. I looked at Rachel bouncing again and turned away with a smile. I pushed off to gain more air with my bounces and leapt off in the other direction from her. I managed to clear one barrier between two trampolines and keep bouncing. My heart was pounding in my chest. I watched the ground move closer and further away from me with every bound. I got myself close to the edge of the next boundary and made my leap over. I felt my foot hit the edge of the next net near a spring and I started to tumble over. I felt myself scream out as my ankle gave and I fell over onto my side. I closed my eyes and screamed out in shear agony. My body coiled into a fetal position on the mat.

What felt like a few minutes later, I started to feel the mat shake as if someone was walking on it. I opened my eyes to see feet very carefully walking towards me. Who could it be? They dropped to her knees and bent down beside me. Rachel, she must have noticed me topple over. She lowered herself to all fours before adjusting herself to sit cross-legged on the mat looking down at me. She stared at me blankly. If I did not know her to do strange things, I would think it was creepy. She watched me flicker my eyes open and closed several times before asking, “Can you stand up?” I slowly rose to my feet, my entire body shaking as I stood. I tried to take a step forward, my right foot was in severe pain. “I may be finished bouncing for today Rachel,” I said cracking a smile. Rachel nodded, she got up and took a step back to give me some space. I was fully expecting her to bounce off since she knew I would survive. I started limping towards the raised seating area. I could not bend my ankle. Every step I took stung. I hauled myself back up over the threshold and sat with my feet dangling over the ledge. I looked back to see Rachel standing in the same place that I’d left her. She looked back to notice me sitting on the ledge and returned to her bouncing. She cleared the threshold between mats with ease. Her hands fluttering as she jumped up and down. My leg throbbed as I watched her. I let myself fall back and lie down, exhausted. I had not realized how tired I was from bouncing until I stopped. This place is truly amazing. I limped my way out of the building with Rachel by my side. “Thanks for taking me,” she said. “Not a problem,” I said with a wince. “I will be alright,” she said.

Is she mocking me? “Thanks for your Rachel.” “Go again?” she asked. Did she not just hear me cry out in agony? She wanted to go again? “Absolutely, once this, what this is, is healed.” I did have fun, until the accident. Maybe I will just be more careful next time. Should have asked if there was a sit-out and watch option. “Don’t hurt yourself. Go slowly. Don’t strain yourself. Have fun,” she said. “Thank you Rachel,” I said to her. Perhaps she understood after all. We arrived at the bus stop to see the bus just coming up the street. As soon as we sat down on the bus, Rachel ed out. She went completely limp and her head fell onto my shoulder. I thought my heart rate would stay down once I left the trampoline park. Do I wake her up? She was bouncing around a lot, she had to crash eventually. It almost seemed like her energy would never end. “Rachel,” I said. Nothing. I managed to get Rachel home in one piece and dropped her off at the centre. She woke up about three minutes from our stop on the first bus and sat quietly while riding the second bus. She ran right up to Charmaine and gave her a hug. “I guess someone had fun today,” she exclaimed. “I guess someone had fun today,” Rachel repeated. “I guess someone had fun today,” I said. Wow, this must be contagious. Rachel released her and looked towards me. “Thank you Jessie,” she said. “Time to go home now.” She skipped down the hallway before I even had the chance to respond to her. I looked back at Charmaine, “what the hell was that?” “Echolalia.”

“You said that word to me before..” “It is where you repeat things that have been said to you or that you have heard before as a form of communication.” “That has a name?” She smiled, “Yes, not everyone just does this,” she replied. “Thanks again for doing this.” I folded my arms and shrugged my shoulders, “Did I then?” “That depends, do you want to see Rachel again?” “Can I not go to the trampoline park again?” Charmaine looked down at my feet to see that my ankle had swelled to twice its size. I did not get the chance to wrap it or tend to it beyond an ice-pack. “Did someone have an accident?” “Yes, someone had a big accident.” “I am sure you will survive. Of course you can. She seems to like you. How about you try to help her out, take her grocery shopping or something. Get her to actually do stuff. So what are you up to tonight?” “I actually have to go to work from six till about ten. Harold’s got me helping out with the seniors tonight. No changing diapers or sponge-bathing people however.” “You could take Rachel to the home if you like. You think your boss would be okay with that?” “So long as I am not actually working; he would love it. These residents are hungry for interaction from young people. I mean, she is a wiz at Rummy.” “I may like to come too, see the place I have heard so many things about. It would also give me an opportunity to see my favourite client in the real world.” You want me to drag this girl around with me everywhere so that she can learn

some social skills and street smarts? Great strategy! The blind leading the blind! “Thanks for the idea, but I have to get going.” “This Wednesday for games night?” Charmaine asked. “Of course,” I replied without looking back.

Chapter 9

I put on my scrubs and headed towards the seniors’ section of the extended care centre. I hadn’t worked here in a while prior to Harold switching me over, it had been maybe a year since. I arrived at in the senior’s lounge of the top floor of the facility on time to see Sara getting ready to leave for the night. “Hey Jessie, you’re early,” she acknowledged. “Of course.” “So, I guess you are working up here today...” I scanned the lounge. There were four ladies playing euchre at the table to the right, two gentlemen playing chess at the table to the left and about six people watching TV in the middle of the room on the couches. “Kind of surreal isn’t it?” I said to her. I watched Sara scan the room and then smile at me. “I wonder what our generation will do to time when we are old and grey?” “I hadn’t given that much thought,” I shrugged. “Probably go crack out the old PS. Or maybe the new PS10 by then. Play some good old Smash Brothers until the cows come home. Break out the magic cards and the D&D dice?” “What about impending arthritis?” she asked. “Death come quickly.” I said to her. She laughed. “Watch, the afterlife is just one big game of monopoly… every time you go bankrupt it starts again?” That was a scary thought. “Who knows, maybe technology will have progressed to the point where we can just slip on reality helmets and forget that we are just bunch of old geezers for the rest of our last days.”

“That sounds mildly depressing.” “So does playing the 1001th game of chess against my dearest friend whom I been playing against every day in the hopes of getting some kind of advantage.” “Have those two really been doing that?” “Who knows? Three games a day, for about a year... Give or take.” “ the weed please!” “Ha, maybe we will all just get high out of our minds and float away our sorrows on a cloud of our own smoke. Surprised people are not doing that already” “You sure you were not a poet in your past life?” “I wonder what I did then to end up here and now?” “You okay Jessie?” “Sure. I just spent the day trampolining with a cute and sweet twenty-year-old who thinks she’s eight! It was great.” It was strange to be there and pretend I had nothing to worry about for a few hours. “My ankle is still throbbing!” “Was that Rachel you are referring to?” “Yes.” “At least you did something nice. I am sure she appreciated it. People like her often don’t have many friends to go out and do that with. Got to wonder why. “Yea, yea I did. Thanks.” “Well, when I am old and grey. I hope that I still know you,” she said as she inched her way closer to me. She gently rested her right arm on my right shoulder. I could feel her arm slightly brush the back of my neck. A tingle surged up my spine. “Have a good shift Jessie, do you think we will be working together soon?” “I am doing 3-8 on Thursday. Harold also wants me to come in during volunteer hours to watch over some of the volunteers Friday evening for four hours.”

“Wow, sounds like fun. Well, have a good night,” she said as she walked ed and behind me. I watched her walk toward the elevator. I let out a sigh. “Ready for the day?” I heard a voice. I turned around to see Harold holding a clipboard in his hands. “Six-pm is evening medication time. Along with dinner,” he explained. Harold walked me to the room that the medication was kept in. It was a small room near the kitchen that was kept under lock and key. There was a bulletin board to the left at you walk in. on the board hung three clipboards with times stuck to them. The person on the morning shift usually sets sets up the board for the rest of the day and keeps track of changes for us. I took the evening clipboard and walked over to the cabinets where the various pills were kept. I skimmed down the list and started making the small plastic containers for each of the residents on the floor. Skimming down the list, I noticed that many of the medications were similar. Pain killers, various things for aches and pains, blood pressure medication, laxatives. Two thirds of the people on the list had a prescription for a common psychiatric sedative. Guess it keeps them quiet in the night. A few had astriskes underneath their names that stated a sleeping pill was to be given bedside at 8:30 in the evening. I carefully took the tray full of pills along with the clipboard and started heading out of the kitchen and down the hallway that contained residents’ the rooms. The first room on my list belonged to an older man with Alzheimer’s. Reading the clipboard, his name was Joseph Yetski aged 93. I opened the door to see him sitting on a brown sofa chair in the far right corner. He had moved some of the snow-globes around since the last time I had seen him. I counted fifteen in plain site. The Huckleberry Finn book sat on his bedside table. Maybe he had actually gotten somewhere since I had seen him last. I smiled at him and left the medication on the arm of his chair. He looked at me and took the medication. Looking at his name on the clipboard, I would be back to give him is night time medication in a little while. He will likely ask me to read for him for a little while, hopefully I will have the time. The next room over was an elderly woman. I walked in to see a walker by the entrance and her sitting at the side of her bed. I walked up to her and presented her the medication. She looked up at me and shook her head. “Please, you need

to take it.” I said to her. She shook her head again. I quietly placed the small cup on the bedside table before walking back towards the door. As I left, I pressed the button on the outside of the door that triggered a nurse to come in and check on her after me. If the button is pressed the nurses are instructed to assist the patient in taking their medication. Knowing the patient in question, some force will definitely be involved. Sometimes it feels like you relinquish more and more and more of your freewill the older and/or sicker you get. She can’t simply decide to not take her medication and deal with the consequences herself. Did she just want to be put out of her misery? I stood by the door with my medication cart until I could see two women in scrubs walk down the hallway. I made eye- with one of them before continuing on to the next room. “Good luck,” I said under my breath. After giving the medication to everyone on the floor I returned to the sitting area. The women playing euchre had moved to sitting on one of the couches in front of the TV. The two men had re-set their chess game. I checked my watch, it read 7:05 in the evening. The TV usually gets turned off at 10:00pm. Most residents have TVs in their rooms anyways. The common area was primarily to allow people to socialize. Harold had left for the evening and the night supervisor had taken his place. There was a note on Harold’s desk in the office that instructed me do a night check of one of the downstairs wings and that one of the other evening staff would finish the evening routine up here. Night checks typically consisted of checking any equipment to make sure it was functional, cleaning up any patients before bed and completing any other preparations for the night. He’d sent me back down to the first floor. I thought he took me off my normal shift specifically so that I would not be wiping people’s butts anymore, but there I was. I made my way down the elevator back to the first floor via the staff side, ing reception on the second floor without stopping. Our more mobile residents use the public side that allows them to by- the less sightly parts of the building and up to their rooms on the upper floors. After checking on the patients, I eventually got to the room assigned to Annabelle Grace Matheson. Charlie, my friend with Cerebral Palsy, was a few names down the list. I opened the door to walk in; the room smelled a little

funny, she must have recently defecated. Throughout the day some of the patients will wear diapers which allows the staff to move them around and for patients to be mobile if they are able to. But in the evening and when they are in bed, it is often easier to simply let the patients use a bed pan for their business. I moved over to the sink to wash my hands before putting my gloves on and bracing myself. I slowly unfastened her restraints and lifted her back up to get to the bed pan underneath. As I lifted her up, I caught a glimpse of her bare back. Scars crisscrossed her back what looked like several times over. This way and that way like layers of cat scratches. I closed my eyes. I placed my hand on her back and I could feel the raised scar-tissue against my skin; it made my heart sink. What could have done this? I gently lifted her onto her side to get a look at the bed-pan, surely enough it had been used. Lying her on her side, I removed the bed pan and went over to the cart to get a clean one. After washing my hands again I replaced the bed pan and brought wheelchair over to the bedside. Annabelle’s eyes had opened and she began to flap her hands and make eye with me. Lowering the arm-rest, I adjusted her into a sitting position and she placed her hand on the arm-rest of the chair. “Good girl!” I said to her. I slowly lifted her onto the chair by placing one hand underneath her and one on her back, feeling the scars again. I felt myself swallow. I placed her on the chair and replaced the clean bed-pan into the hole. I stripped the bed sheets and placed them in a pile on the bed. I gently wheeled Annabelle out of the room to take her for bathing and pressed the button for the laundry staff to come change the sheets. Hopefully everything will be reset by the time I come back. I held my head low as I walked her through the hallway. I felt like I was going to throw up. I slowly wheeled her to the showering area and took off her hospital gown from behind her. I carefully wheeled her chair into the showering area. I lifted her back forward and let the water fall over her, cleaning her rear. It was just a quick rinse to clean her up. Once she was cleaned, I patted her dry with the towel before putting a new hospital gown on her and sitting her back in the chair properly. I carefully wheeled her back to her room, the chair was still mildly wet, it would dry. I arrived back in her room to see that the sheets had indeed been replaced with a

mark left on the clipboard. I carefully laid her down on the bed. I moved to look at the clipboard and checked off that her bedpan had been changed and the patient was cleaned. Hopefully someone would come and check on her one last time before the end of the night. I placed the wheelchair in the corner, reset the room to the way it was when I came in and slowly walked out, onto the next patient. I got home that night and took off my work clothes. I pried off my shoes to notice that my ankle had swelled to twice its normal size. Just great! I hobbled over to my freezer and grabbed the first large cold thing I could find. It was a bag of frozen broccoli that had been in there for months. I sat down on the couch and propped my foot up in the coffee table. I placed the bag of frozen veggies over it. I sat back in the couch and let my head sink into the cushion. I wanted to bury what I saw and forget that I ever saw it. I especially did not want to come up with the words to write a report about it my next shift. The nurses would have to examine Annabelle and make an investigation. What if they already have? What if they already know? Abuse of disabled people by their caregivers is common. We had to take an entire course on it. But it is different when you see it with your own eyes. Is there another answer? What else could it be? Frustrated, I got up and limped over to my computer. If I am going to report this, then I will need something written down. I would type the words and then proceed to delete it. I wiped the sweat off my face, took a deep breath and swallowed. “While tending to Annabelle Grace Matheson on the night of June 23 rd, I noticed several scars crisscrossed all over her back. She did not appear to be in pain from the scars. The scars appeared old and well healed. Scars of this sort are a clear sign of caregiver-abuse; I would like to inquire whether or not there has been a formal investigation into this. In addition, I wish to speak with the employee currently handling the case if it has indeed been already escalated.” I typed out and printed the letter before washing my face and crashing back into bed. I signed and slammed the letter down on Harold’s desk first thing Monday morning. I was not even scheduled to come in that day with my reduced schedule. I could barely sleep the remainder of the weekend and spent most of Sunday desperately trying to preoccupy myself to keep my brain from going to

that place. This included to two latest horror movie releases, three book chapters and an entire season of “Game of Thrones”, joy! I was red in the eyes and blinking rapidly as Harold looked up at me and then back down at the paper. “Jesse,” he said as he picked up the paper to look it over. “You should get home and get some sleep. One of the nurses noticed this during Annabelle’s intake medical examination. It was also noted in her police report before she arrived here. I will arrange for you to talk to someone on the case for the day of your next shift. I assure you everything has been reported and the case is in good hands. Do you want to talk to a counsellor regarding what you saw? I will gladly cover the costs.” I had not considered consulting with a therapist. Usually I would just talk to myself when under stress or dealing with difficult experiences. “That would be highly appreciated,” I replied. No reason to it up if it is free. Even if I would have to pay out first. Harold nodded, “I can send you the names of some good people.” I decided to walk straight out of the building. I could not shake this feeling of helplessness. What would Rachel do in this situation? Would she scream? Would she even know what to do? Charmaine, Sara; would they be any better? Charmaine, she has probably heard the stories before. Sara would hug Annabelle so tight, and never want to let go. Would that make it better?

Chapter 10

I arrived at the Independent Living Centre early on Wednesday to meet Rachel. We had decided to go out first and then I would come back to help with games night. Charmaine walked in to see me sitting on the sofa in the recreation room. “Jesse, you know I would rather you report to me like a normal visitor rather than just having yourself sit in the recreation room allocated for our residents and clients,” she said with a smile. “I wasn’t ready to say hi to you just yet. I have not said much to anyone in a couple of days.” “A couple of days, you know some people here...” “Would be happy to go for weeks without talking to someone,” I interrupted. I looked up to see her smile. “I saw some marks on one my patients’ back at the Long-term Care Facility. I think someone hurt her.” “Jesse...” “There is nothing I can do, everything has already happened.” “People want a normal child,” Charmaine began. She moved to sit down beside me They want their child to be able to give them a hug, go to school, grow up and give back to them and the community. With a severely disabled person, you don’t get that, and there is a great deal of resentment and frustration. But the truth is, you never get the perfect child. Those people who wish for such things and want to lash out were not perfect children either. This does not excuse what happened.” “They were never happy with me. They wanted me to be a doctor. Here I am working among the people they wished I would be.” “A parent’s dreams for their children, are often a projection of their own failed

dreams onto us. Ableism tells us that a disabled person is worth less.” “There is an investigation being launched,” I said to her. “I just wish I could do something.” “Just take care of her, show her the love and care she deserves.” “But I am only doing this because her mom is paying for us to take her off her hands.” “Take her off the hands of an abusive person who does not see another way.” I smiled and lifted my head. “I am sure that they will get to the bottom of this,” she assured me. “How do I be there for someone who cannot walk or talk or engage with me?” “Find ways that they can engage with you. Touch, listening, visual expression,” she replied. “Any ideas?” I asked. “Say hello, read to her, stroke her hand. Hang up some pictures on the wall. Play some music” I laughed. “So today is the big day,” changing the subject. “We are going grocery shopping!” I said trying to sound excited. “That reminds me, I meant to give you something.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out 50 dollars in bills. “Right, Rachel’s grocery money...” I said, slipping the money into my pocket. “If Rachel does well, I could give it to her next time,” she said to me. “That’s an incentive!” I said sarcastically. “Just doing my job!” she said with a smile. “She really should have access to her own money.”

“I can’t go over this every time you are here,” she said to me. “You think that her mother is using Rachel’s money for her own gain?” I asked. “Even if it were true, I would not have any proof and there is nothing I can do about it. In many cases like this, people above Rachel have decided without consulting Rachel that she is not capable of handling her own finances.” “Is she?” “I can’t make that judgement. Not now anyway. All I know, is that she there will be a court-date to decide this shortly after her twenty-first birthday.” “What if we devised a test to teach Rachel to handle money and for everything that is spent?” “Well I hope that that is what exercises like this will teach her,” Charmaine replied. Guess that makes me the guinea pig. I started hearing footsteps approaching the recreation room. Each fall was followed by a scratching noise. I looked to Charmaine to see her turn around in the direction of the sound. “Is that a dog?” I asked. A young woman with dark skin and long black braids walked into the recreation room from the outside. By her side was a medium-sized shaggy cream-coloured dog that looked to be a Labrador-mix. A moment later I could hear the sound of feet running down the stairs from the opposite direction. “Lauri!” I heard a voice. I recognized it right away as Rachel’s. Rachel bolted into the room and stopped short of the woman with the dog. The woman was still and the dog looked up right at Rachel. I moved to stand up, but Charmaine looked at me and mouthed, “no.” Rachel raised her hand and placed it on the other woman’s shoulder. “Lauri!” Rachel said to her. “Hello to you too Rachel,” said the woman. She must have been that blind client

Charmaine mentioned to me before. “Is this normal?” I asked Charmaine. She did not say anything and kept watching Rachel. “What would you like to ask me today?” “Can I play with Iris?” “How about you help me up to my room, and then once I sit down you can help take her harness off and you can play with her in my apartment?” “Yes,” then she turned and looked right at me, “Jesse comes too.” I smiled, “of course,” I said as I got up and walked towards Rachel. “Would you like me to take your hand, Lauri?” She shook her head, “Usually, we offer our elbow, bent at a 90-degree angle.” “Of course,” I replied as I stretched out my bent left arm towards her right side. I felt her hand clutch it. “Rachel will lead us to my room,” Lauri continued. “Rachel will lead us to Lauri’s room,” she echoed, “116, ground floor. Charmaine?” “I have some paperwork to take care of and some visitors to meet in a little while. You guys have a good time. Rachel, Jesse is going to take you out for a bit and I expect you two to be back before games this evening.” I noticed Rachel jump up and down at the mentioning of games. She stopped abruptly and I had to jerk Lauri to a halt before we bumped into her. “Can Lauri play games too?” I could feel myself starting to sweat. I had never taught a blind person how to play anything before. Can a blind person even play card or boardgames? I even felt my arm begin to shake at the thought.

I heard Lauri laugh. “Maybe, I do have some games we could try out.” I felt her grip tighten on me. “Sounds good,” I said. “Maybe I can see them when we get to your room.” At the sound of the word ‘room,’ Rachel picked up pace again and stopped right in front of her door. She stepped to the left of the door, opposite of the opening direction and said, “room 116.” I looked to watch Lauri let go of my arm, reach her hand towards the door and drag her fingers over the numbers that were nailed onto the door. “Correct,” she said, “Thank you Rachel. When I get inside, you can lead me to the chair and take off Iris’ harness.” The dog perked up and made a small bark at the sound of her name. She took the key-lanyard from around her neck. Keeping the loop around her wrist, she slid her hand along the door until she managed to locate the door knob to the left. She grabbed the key at the end of the lanyard and jabbed it into the lock. She missed three times before managing to get it in and turn the knob. It was mildly comical to watch her miss. I had to wonder how easy it would be for me to get my key into the knob with my eyes close. She opened the door and let us into her apartment. It was similar dimensions to that of Rachel’s apartment. I looked to the left of the entrance to see a red sofa-chair right in front of the window. I reached to grab her arm again, but she stepped forward one step and then three steps to the left, ing me, before sitting down. As if she had the placement of the chair. She sat herself down and let out a sigh. She let go of the dog’s harness and said. “Okay, you can take Iris’ harness off now.” I was still in shock. I looked to see Rachel kneeling down at the dog and unclipping the harness from her underside. Once the harness was off, the dog jumped up and pinned Rachel to the floor with its paws on her chest. She began slobbering all over her face. I could feel myself breaking out into laughter. I could hear Lauri laughing too. “Iris needs a break once in a while. It’s good for her to play and be a normal dog.”

I placed my hand on Lauri’s chair. It was soft and fuzzy with a fur-like texture. It felt soft one way and coarse the other. Looking down at it, I repeatedly stroked my hand back and forth. “Nice chair.” I finally said. “I enjoy tactile sensations. As someone who doesn’t see a whole lot, I experience much of the world through touch,” she replied. “Makes sense.” I looked up to see Iris chasing Rachel in a circle in the middle of the room by the door. Rachel had a smile on her face and was laughing. “They look like they are having fun.” I said. “I bet they do,” Lauri said with a sarcastic tone. I immediately put my hand over my mouth with a loud clap. I heard Lauri chuckle. “I also have pretty good hearing.” I slid my hand off my mouth, “sorry,” I said frantically. “I was joking, acknowledging that you see things that I can’t around me doesn’t actually bother me.” “So, what kind of dog is she?” I asked. “I’ve never seen her before, I don’t know. Sometimes they just swap my dog and I don’t even notice...” “Uhh...” “Ha,” I heard her crack, “Got you again. Her paperwork says she’s a goldenretriever-lab mix. You think I don’t know what kind of dog I got?” “Right of course.” “You always this stiff?” “Right,” I said with a pause. “How long are they going to keep this up for?”

“Could you me music player and headphones on the counter? I want to read a book.” Lauri said. “Read a book?” I asked stunned. “Seriously, you act like you’ve never seen a blind person before.” “Actually...” I don’t think I have ever been this close to a blind person for this long before. “Relax!” Lauri exclaimed. “Audiobooks!” I walked over to the counter to grab the small blue music player with headphones already attached to it. I walked back and reached my hand out in front of her face. “Here,” I said, expecting her to reach out and take it from me. Instead, she lifted her right hand and held it open palmate. “Yes, of course,” I said as I placed it into her opened hand. I watched her put her feet up on the chair before untangling the headphones and putting them in her ears. “Rachel!” she called, “are you tired yet?” “Nope!” I heard her say. “Let yourself out when you are,” she replied. Just like that? Rachel and I could up and leave with something and she would likely not know for days. “Is this normal? Rachel has only been here for a few months at the most right?” “I need some time to be a person, and Iris needs some time to be a dog. Can I read my book in peace?” I looked to see Rachel. She stopped running around in circles. Iris rolled over and Rachel started scratching her belly. I decided to walk over to the dog and Rachel. The dog seemed to be enjoying herself. I bent down and started stroking the dog’s belly as she kicked her paws in the air.

About 15 minutes later, Iris had tuckered herself out and walked over to the round doggy-bed in the far right corner of the room. As Iris sat in the bed, I heard a loud buzzer go off. “Good girl,” I heard Rachel say. “Rachel can spend time with Jesse now!” Rachel said. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you for spending time with Iris and I,” said Lauri. “I will be in the recreation room for games at 5 this evening if you want to come. You can bring that thing you mentioned earlier,” I said. I paused momentarily before saying to her, “you are really amazing.” “I am merely navigating the world to my best abilities with the circumstances I was given. Nothing to be astonished about,” she responded. I looked to Rachel standing by the door waiting for me. She is navigating the world given her circumstances as well. “If you do come later today Lauri, I have an idea I would like to try.” “Sure... If I manage to find them.” “Great.” I said as I approached the door to leave. Rachel followed me out of the apartment. I was smiling; I don’t think I have smiled since before Saturday night.

Chapter 11

We left Lauri’s apartment and walked up the hallway stairs towards Rachel’s apartment. “What are we doing today Jesse?” Rachel asked as she reached her apartment door. “Well actually, I wanted to get a look into your fridge and cupboards. We are going to make a list of things that we like to eat and cook.” Rachel spun around and looked right at me, “pizza!” she said. “No, we are not going for pizza,” I replied. “We can make a pizza or buy a frozen pizza, but we are not going out for pizza today.” “But I have everything I need here,” she retorted. “Charmaine tells me you are always taking KD and pop tarts from the foodcupboard.” “Food cupboard is for all my favourite clients!” “Wouldn’t it be nice to have your own food? We don’t have to go today, but at least lets go through your cupboards and write down what you would like to get. I will even get you ice-cream if you are good.” Rachel nodded slowly and turned around to open the door to her apartment. It looked the same as it did the other day with the bookshelves creating a wall of separation between her bed and the rest of the space. I moved towards the bed; I wondered what kinds of books she was hiding. “No!” I heard Rachel say as I felt a tug on the back of my shirt. Guess she doesn’t want anyone going in there. I turned around and went for the fridge. I opened it to only see a half full jug of juice a pack of school-cheese sticks and some cans of pop. Moving to the cupboards, there wasn’t much better. A few boxes of various granola bars, a box of pop-tarts and two boxes of instant macaroni and cheese. “Seriously?” I said

under my breath. I looked back to the fridge to see Rachel’s Boogie-Board attached to the outside of the door. I handed it to her and took out my phone. I opened a notepad application on it. “Okay Rachel. Start writing down what you think you need.” Rachel took one look at the board and then looked back up at me, “start writing down what you need,” she said back to me. Avoidance, this is not going to be fun. “Okay,” I said, “We need things for breakfast: cereal.” I typed ‘cereal’ into my phone. “You will make this easier if you help: Bread, soup. You want your ice-cream right?” “Okay,” she said folding her arms with the board hanging off to the side, “pasta.” “Great,” I replied. After more reluctance we eventually got a list that we could work with together. It did not have to be an entire week’s worth of food, it just needed to be enough for the exercise to work. I looked over the list before saying, “we can go out now.” Rachel quickly grabbed her bag and walked over to the door. “We can go out now,” she said back to me. At least she was cooperating. “I need to by Charmaine before we leave,” I told her. We walked out of the apartment and back downstairs towards the exit, ing by Charmaine’s office. Rachel stopped and waited in the recreation room while I walked over to Charmaine’s office. She was in there sitting at her desk. “How did it go?” she said as I walked in. “We managed to make a list,” I replied. “Rachel seemed to have fun with Iris’s dog.” “Lauri and Rachel are in the same program. That’s how they met. If it weren’t

for the dog, she likely would never have spoken to Lauri, or anyone else in the program for that matter. All she wanted to do was play with that dog, so Lauri and I worked something out. You help Lauri and you can play with Iris. Harness on: Iris is working. Harness off: Iris is a normal dog. Rachel and I took her for a walk once. Hopefully she can take her for a walk by herself one day.” “Speaking of Lauri,” clever, “I was wondering if you had some blindfolds, or stuff you can make blindfolds out of?” “I will see what I can do,” she said with a wink. “I have something for the two of you however,” she said pointing to the right wall of her office. Standing up against the right wall was a grocery cart that looked like a dolly with a bag strapped to the frame. “We have a few sitting in storage.” Wow, she thought of everything, “Thanks,” I said. “Now have fun and make sure you stick to task.” “Yes, definitely,” I said as I turn around back towards Rachel. Getting groceries should be easy enough right? We arrived at the grocery store without much of a hitch. We grabbed a cart. We slowly walked in with me pushing the cart and Rachel by my side holding onto the frame with one finger arced around the wire. We’d stowed the fold-able cart Charmaine gave us in the lower compartment of the store-cart; a common trick. “Alright, what do we want to get?” I asked her. She did not turn her head to answer me. I followed her gaze to see her fixated on a small child maybe just over a year-old sitting in the child seat of a shopping cart not ten feet away from us. The child reached over and plucked a green glass jar from the shelf I looked at Rachel to see her draw her arms right close to her torso as if she was about to squeeze into a tight crevice. As the child pulled on the glass jar, it slipped from its hands and onto the floor. With a loud crack, the jar broke; glass shattering as it hit the ground. Green goop splattered everywhere as it dropped. What happened next came as no surprise; the baby started crying and let out a loud scream that seemed to shake the store. Next to me, Rachel let out her own loud scream and darted backwards off behind me with her eyes closed and her hands over her ears. I quickly turned to see her

back into a display of toilet paper stacked about six-feet high and three packages wide. The soft structure absorbed her impact as she fell into it and the rolls toppled over her in. Thankfully, it was not a stack of metal cans or glass, I thought. They don’t make those as often anymore. I heard several soft thuds as the packages hit the floor. She sat in the middle of it. I had to smile, it reminded me of the ball pit at the trampoline park. Between the baby crying and Rachel’s scream, everyone was staring at us and three staff personnel had arrived on the scene. I could feel my heart racing, my head felt hot and I wanted to run for the hills. I gripped the handle of the shopping cart tightly to stop myself. I cannot leave her here. I let go of the cart and I walked up to the pile of toilet paper packages with Rachel huddled in the middle. I reached out to touch her, but she winced. I could see her body shaking. She was holding one of the packages of toilet paper close to her body and squeezing it while curled up. I smiled; she looked so innocent. I bent down to her level, making sure not to touch her. “Hey Rachel. Are you okay? The loud noise is gone now. Do you want to go home, or do you want to go shopping?” With her face buried in the toilet paper she said, “Shopping.” “Okay, but we need to clean up this mess,” I said with a smile. “Would you like to help me?” She nodded. Pushing the packages of toilet paper aside she gracefully stood up. She put the package of toilet paper she was holding on to aside and began arranging the rest in a pyramid structure. She carefully arranged the first level and built her way up, using every package available precisely. When she was done, she handed me the final package of toilet paper and said, “toilet paper.” I looked around to see the crowd of people, along with the supermarket staff looking wide eyed and stunned at her. I even saw the mother with the baby in the crowd. I simply chuckled. She walked up towards me, grabbed my arm below the elbow and hooked hers on to mine. I walked ed everyone and their gazed just followed. I started walking her towards the aisle of the store. I looked back to see one of the grocery store staff take a step forward before stopping.

Starting with the produce we walked up and down each aisle grabbing everything on the list. Rachel exclaimed each item as she grabbed them and placed them into the cart, “Apples, chicken, fish cereal, french-fries, ice-cream, ketchup!” and so on. I smiled, she really stuck to her guns and got it all done. When she is determined to do something, she does it! We approached the end of the list and came to the line-up at the cash . There were four cashs open, each with long line-ups. One of the store staff walked up to me and asked, “Would you like me to open another for the two of you?” “Yes of course,” I said. That was nice of her. They probably just wanted us out. She walked us over to the on the far left and began helping us ring through our items. “That was quite the show you pulled off earlier today,” she said. I blushed, “you mean with the toilet paper?” “Yes,” she replied. “I did not mean for it to happen. Just that there can be so many sounds and distractions in a grocery store. You never know what will jump out at you or not.” I said with a chuckle. “You certainly bounced back however,” she said; her hands were moving very quickly to check out our items. “How’s your friend?” she asked. “I like your hair,” I heard Rachel say. Her hair was strawberry-blonde colour tied neatly back in a braid. “Thank you,” she said as she swiped the last item. It was the toilet paper package Rachel grabbed. The price flashed across the screen. “$6.99.” “No!” I heard Rachel say. Her arm shot out to the right, “$4.99” she shouted. “Rachel calm down,” I said. The cashier looked over the item, “That’s okay, I forgot to adjust for the sale. Thank you.” I could see people staring at us again.

Rachel did not even flinch. I watched her bag the items and looked at the total on the screen. Digging through my pockets I pulled out the bills that Charmaine had given me. We came within budget, thankfully. I reached out to hand the cashier the money when I heard Rachel say, “I want to pay.” “Okay Rachel,” I said, “Just to give me the receipt,” I said while handing her the money. I gave Rachel the bills and watched her give them to the cashier. The cashier smiled and thanked her before completing the transaction. Rachel took the change without a fuss and proceeded to hand it to me along with the bill. I looked at her and said, “How about you keep everything and you can give it to Charmaine when we get home?” “Give to Charmaine when we get home,” she said as she stashed the money away in her pocket. “Good girl,” I said to her. We carefully put the bags in the buggy Charmaine gave us and proceeded out of the store.

Chapter 12

We slowly left the grocery store together with the full buggy trailing behind me. Rachel had her hand tucked into my forearm that hung at a 90-degree angle, as Lauri had demonstrated to me. Close so that I can keep an eye on her, but not too intimate. I checked for cars as we started to cross the parking lot. “Puppy!” I heard Rachel scream as I felt her hand leave me arm. She darted off before I could even call her back. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a black car with a small black shape crawling and climbing over the chairs inside of it. I let out a sigh; you cannot be serious. “Rachel!” I did my best to follow her as fast as I could, but she was at least five metres ahead of me. The grocery cart was slowing me down greatly. At least eggs were not on the list. Rachel was fast, full of adrenaline. She got to the car and quickly moved to the front enger seat door. As I got closer, I could see the small black floppy-eared dog in the car with its head down. I could clearly see the windows rolled up with only a small crack at the top. Rachel had her palms up against the windows and the dog looked right at her. She quickly reached her arm into the crack between the window-glass and the top rim of the door. I watched her hand slip in and slowly unlock the inside lock; I was close enough to grab her. “Rachel!” I shouted as I lunged at her. Just as I grabbed her at the waist and pulled her way from the car the alarm started going off. Rachel let out a loud slow scream and the dog began to bark and howl. I looked behind me to see the buggy on the ground and our bags spilled out on the blacktop. I lowered my head. “Come-on, we need to go.” I said as I dragged her away. I let her go five feet from the car and tried to stand up. I could see people staring at us from their cars as I slowly lifted Rachel to her feet. But she would not budge. I looked up to the sky and drew in a deep breath. I noticed the dog pawing at the front door that Rachel had just opened. With a slight push, the door opened a small crack and the dog, which we now saw was just a puppy, jumped out in front of us. Great, now you’ve done it Rachel, I thought. Amidst the loud sirens of the car I could hear a woman screaming. I looked ahead to see a woman running towards the car and a man behind her with one hand on the shopping cart and another with the phone to his ear. “Sorry Rachel,” I said as I

let her go and ran towards the man, “Stop!” I said. I looked to see Rachel drop to the ground behind me. “9-1-1,” I heard the man say as I reached for his hand. “Stop! She wasn’t going after your car,” I said pulling his hand away from his ear. I looked to see a man in a yellow vest approaching us. He must have been from the store. “What are you doing at my car?” the man said in distress. “Please don’t send the cops after us. She did not mean any harm. She’s...” I paused, “she was worried about the dog and got a little excited. She really loves animals.” The noises from the car stopped and I looked back see that the woman had the dog in her hand and that another parking lot attendant had pulled Rachel to her feet. My heart sank. Rachel was squirming and screaming with her hands forced behind her back. I ran back to her and cried, “Stop!” one more time. I threw my arms around her. “We have to go, I am sorry Rachel!” “Just what do you think you are doing? She was clearly trying to run away with my dog,” said the woman. The dog was sitting at Rachel’s feet. I wrapped my arms around Rachel, “Can you really blame her? She loves animals! And you left that poor dog out in the car. It’s almost 40 degrees with the humidity! I should be calling the cops on you.” “Do you want me to call the police?” asked the attendant, looking at the woman. “You should learn to control her better!” the woman said, “who does she think she is, opening up strangers’ cars?” “Actually, you ought to be calling the cops on her!” I said. She looked right at me. “I beg your pardon?” said the attendant. I pointed across the parking lot. “No hot pets!” I heard Rachel say softly. She must have noticed my hand move

and point to the sign posted on the grocery store window that read: “No Hot Pets.” Or maybe she red it prior. It was a sign warning pet owners not to leave animals unattended in cars. “The window was open,” the woman protested. “No hot pets!” I heard Rachel say again. “It can reach as high as 70 degrees in a car, even with the windows open, black car, black tinted windows, black leather seats, black lab!” “Listen Rachel, I know you wanted to save the puppy. But we cannot go and open strangers’ cars like that.” I spoke to her slowly and quietly. It was as if she had no concept of how the real world worked. Did her parents not take her out at all? I could see this happening with a child, but not with a full-grown adult. “We are done here!” I said. I grabbed Rachel’s arm and took her from the parking attendant. I slowly walked her back towards my shopping cart. I could hear her foot-falls in tune with mine. “I am really sorry.” I said to the woman as I walked ed her. I slowly handed Rachel off to the second man in a yellow vest whom was standing next to the other owner of the dog by our shopping cart. “Can you please take her?” I slowly handed Rachel off to him. I watched him take his arms around her before slowly walking towards my cart that had been lying on the ground at a 90-degree angle for about fifteen minutes while everything unfolded. I bent down and started grabbing the bags that had fallen out. I noticed a hand lift up the buggy and set it upright. I looked to see that it was the man whose car we were just at. He had walked away from his own shopping cart and started helping me pick up the bags. “Thank you,” I said as I stood up and put the food back into the cart. “I am really sorry.” “Kids can be a hand-full, but you really got to keep that one on a leash!” “Kids?” I looked over at Rachel; I knew she looked young. You could mistake her for an older teenager but not a child… I took the cart from him. “She is not a child! Nor is she a dog!” I said to him sternly. “Well whatever she is, you need to teach her some manners. She needs to grow up!” he replied in a patronizing tone. “You know, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, leaving a helpless animal in that hot car!” I walked ed him, trailing the buggy behind me, I grabbed Rachel by the arm as I ed the second parking attendant and headed towards

the street. She did not kick, or scream. She just went; she did not have the energy to defy me! “Sorry Rachel,” I said under my breath. I heard her say “puppy” a few times, but that was it. I wanted to just tell the couple along with store employees that Rachel did not understand what was going on. Could I actually just slap a label on her head and people would understand? Or would that make me a worse person? What I really wanted to do was slap that woman and kick the car. We had managed to get about 200 metres away to a nearby park with a bench before I stopped and let Rachel go. She was still breathing hard and her face was still flushed. I released her hand and she immediately dropped to the ground, limp. I rested the cart next to the bench and bent down next to her. I noticed that she was holding her arm at the wrist I had just grabbed. I prayed that I wasn’t squeezing too hard. I wanted to yell and scream at her, but that would not make the situation any better, and I knew that. “Look Rachel, I know you meant well. But if you want to be able to go get groceries by yourself and go out by yourself you can’t run after other peoples’ cars,” I said to her. It was as if she really were a child. No, I said to myself as the thought crossed my mind. “Do you want to go see puppies at the shelter?” I asked. “I can take you to go play with puppies, or we can ask to play with Iris again.” Rachel shook her head. I could hear her muttering something under her breath. “What is it Rachel?” I asked her. “B-B-A-E 4-7-9,” she replied, “B-B-A-E 4-7-9,” she said again. It sounded like a licence plate number. “Is that the licence plate number of the car that had the dog in it?” I said with a smile. She managed to read the number through all the commotion? What kind of strange person is she? “Do you want to go report the car to the police station? Rachel, there is very little chance that will do anything. We are lucky that we are not the ones arrested. Rachel, if you really want to, we can go to the police station and report them first thing tomorrow. I will even come with you, even though I am not scheduled to volunteer tomorrow. First however, I am worried that our ice-cream is melted and that we

need to get home.” Anything to make her smile again! She nodded and stood up. I looked her over, her clothes were scuffed and her hands were black from the ground. Nothing mattered but the smile on her face. “Go home,” she said. I smiled in relief. I half expected her fingers to start to glow.

Chapter 13

We arrived back at the centre in one piece, the walk was peaceful after the talk. Rachel barely said a word and merely held onto my arm like Lauri showed me. I guess she was too excited to say anything. She let go of me once we reached the entrance to the Independent Living Centre. She grabbed the bottom of the buggy before I even had the chance to ask her and helped me carry the groceries up the stairs and into her apartment. I gave her a smile all the way up. When we got back into the apartment to put the food items away I checked to see that the ice-cream had melted a little. It would be okay after a few hours in the freezer. I immediately opened the freeze and placed it in there. I looked back to see Rachel looking over the various food items on the counter. “How about you go get yourself cleaned up and I will put these away?” I asked her. “I can do it,” she said to me. “I’ll put everything away and meet Jesse for games. Only half-an-hour-left.” That turned around quick! “Rachel, you sure you going to be okay?” First she cannot even get her own groceries done, now she wants to put away her food on her own? “Just don’t forget to bring the money back to Charmaine when you come down.” I said to her as I turned to leave her apartment. “I got to talk to Charmaine for a little while anyway,” I said as I shut the door. I headed back towards the recreation room. Once I got to the main floor, Lauri ed by me sans Iris. “Lauri, have you come to play games after all?” I asked. “It’s Jesse, I volunteer with Rachel.” I almost forgot to tell her it was me. “Where is Iris?” “I can find my own way to the recreation room,” she replied. “Thank you Jesse. I brought these.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. “What is it?” I asked. She extended her arm towards me, “feel them,” she said, “They are braille-play cards. The top-left corner has the number symbol in braille and the suit-symbol

is brailled in the middle of the card. You can even count what number you are on by using the number of dots in the middle of the cards.” I ran my hands over the card, feeling the little bumps, “And these play like regular cards?” I asked. “Yes.” “I may have a surprise for you too. Can I take you to Charmaine?” She placed her hand underneath my right elbow and grabbed my lower-arm. I walked her to Charmaine’s office to see her standing at her desk packing things into her purse. “Can you stay for games?” I asked, “Just one.” She looked at me, “Hello to you too Jesse, I see you are back safe and sound. I gather you managed to take Rachel Grocery shopping without any trouble.” Trouble? “I can give you a run-down of that later,” I replied. “I was wondering if you managed to find what I asked for. “Of Course,” she replied, “Hello Lauri. Iris getting some rest?” She asked as she slid her hand along the desk and picked up some dark pieces of cloth. “I hope these will be sufficient,” she said handing them to me. “Now, can I ask what you would like me to do with these?” “I have a learning exercise for everyone. Would you like to hear it?” “Well, if I say no will you tell me it anyway?” “Blindfolded rummy. Lauri just gave me a deck of braille-playing cards.” I watched her body shrug, “I am going to suck!” she said. “We all are,” I replied. “I won’t,” I heard Lauri say laughing. Rachel came into the recreation room wheeling the buggy to see us setting up the play cards. No one else was in the room for games tonight. “I put away all the food!” she said.

I smiled and looked at her as she walked in. “What are we playing today?” She left the cart standing in the middle of the recreation room and ed us at the table. “We are going to play blind-rummy!” I said. I stood, moved behind her to put the blindfold on over her eyes. “What are you doing?” “Rachel,” Charmaine began. “Lauri brought some special cards and we are going to play a game. Would you like to put the blindfold on?” Rachel reached up and grabbed the blindfold from my hand and put it on herself. “How will I know if people are cheating?” Lauri asked. “I could supervise rather than play. We could all take turns at supervising to make sure no one cheats,” Charmaine offered. Good idea. I hadn’t thought people would cheat, but I would not trust myself to not cheat either. “And since I am not playing, I will be the one to deal,” said Charmaine. She picked up the deck of cards from the table. “If anyone is having trouble picking cards up, I can certainly help with that too.” “Okay Charmaine,” I said tying the blindfold around my head. “You deal out seven cards.” “Wait,” I heard Lauri say. “How about Go-Fish. I have to ask you for a card and you give them to me. This way I can help you with reading and see how bad you guys do.” I cracked a smile. “You will win that one for sure.” “Learning experience Jesse,” said Charmaine. She dealt out seven cards to each of us on the table. I picked up my hand and counted to make sure I had seven—I did. I carefully

ran my fingers over the cards. There was a braille-symbol in the top-left corner. There were also braille symbols etched into the middle: the symbol for the suit— I assumed—and a number of dots underneath.” “Jesse,” I heard Lauri say. “Do you have an eight.” I slowly felt the middle of each card, and handed her what I thought was an eight. I felt a hand snatch the card from mine. It slapped my knuckles before taking the card. “That is not an eight,” I heard her say. I heard her hand slap the card on the table. I reached towards her to pick it up. I could hear her laughing. I slid my hand across the table until I felt the card, grabbed it and slid it back towards me. “Go fish.” I said. “Lauri has an eight!” I heard Rachel say. “Yes Rachel, would you like my eight?” Lauri responded. “Yes,” she answered. “Rachel,” I heard Charmaine chime in, “You really should be asking for what is in your hand rather than stealing cards from other people.” “But I have an eight.” Rachel said. I heard her slap her hand down on the table. “Lauri, do you have a ten?” I asked. “Yes,” I heard her say. I reached my hand out, feeling for hers and grabbed card. I moved my fingers over the symbol and counted in my head to ten. I ran my left index finger over the corner of each card. I matched what felt like the same symbol and placed both the cards down onto the table. Rather than ask for cards that were in my hand, I decided to simply go through the all the numbers, at least then I would have an idea of what each number felt like rather than just trying to guess what was in my hand. When we finished the game, we turned over all our pairs to determine how badly we did. I took off my blindfold to see that I matched an eight with a nine twice,

and a jack with a king. At least I managed to correctly match the aces and the threes. Rachel did not fair much better with her pair of eights and threes and a miss-matched five-six pairing. I looked over to see that Lauri got of of hers correct. “How did everyone do?” she asked. “Not very well,” I answered. “Maybe you could teach us one day,” said Rachel. “It would take more than a day for any real progress,” said Lauri. “Well, however long it takes,” I said. We played a few more games before eight-o-clock rolled around and Lauri left to go back to her room for the night. We packed up the cards and gave them to her. “Maybe you guys can take Iris for a walk sometime.” she said before she left. “Yes, I am sure Rachel would love that,” I replied. “Iris!” Rachel exclaimed. Once Lauri left, Rachel reached into her pocket and gave Charmaine the receipt from today along with the left over change of six dollars and fifty cents. Charmaine took it and looked it over. “How about you keep this?” she said as she handed the five-dollar-bill back to Rachel. Rachel took it, said thank you and turned around to head back to her room, “See Jesse tomorrow?” she asked. “Yes, see Jesse tomorrow,” I replied, watching her leave. Charmaine watched Rachel leave and waited until she could hear foot-falls on the stares. “Well that was interesting,” said Charmaine as she started cleaning up the recreation room. “It was a great idea to use blindfolds. How was getting groceries then? What’s this about seeing Rachel tomorrow? You are not scheduled to come in tomorrow.” I could not hold it in anymore; I finally broke down. I threw my hands up in the air and started pacing, “Has she been living under a rock for her entire childhood?” I slapped my hands on my forehead and grabbed the tips of my hair.

I needed a haircut. I stammered around the room in circles. “What kind of twenty-year-old runs up to a stranger’s car to rescue a dog?” Charmaine stopped what I she was doing and sat down on the Sofa. “One who really cares about animals,” she replied. “Should I speak to Rachel?” I stopped moving and lowered my hands to the side, “I wish I could do that.” I sat down beside her and let my body sink in a little. “I think we all do sometimes. Sometimes you forget that you need to obey social norms when there is someone in trouble. Or maybe she just did not care.” “She re-stacked all the toilet-paper packages into a perfect pyramid after falling into them. The grocery store staff were really impressed.” “And you managed to get her to do groceries. Progress.” “Maybe after she used up all her energy to complete the task, she had to run off and just be herself,” I said as I sat down next to Charmaine on the sofa. “She really is something else.” “I will talk to her about the incident tonight.” “Another thing, somehow, I am taking her to the police station to report the incident tomorrow, What are you doing tomorrow morning?” “I guess I am coming with you guys to the police station. Even though I am not working.” “Thanks,” I said. I felt bad for roping her in. “Can I offer you something?” “No, that won’t be necessary,” she replied. I got back up and tucked the chairs back into the table for Charmaine. We reorganized the gaming area. “I will see you tomorrow?” she asked while walking over to grab the grocery cart Rachel left in the room. “Yes, you will. I am also going to hear about the case with Annabelle tomorrow

afterwards,” I said taking a deep breath. “You going to be okay?” “Yeah.” “By the way, are you working at the home this Saturday?” “Yes, in the afternoon,” I said. “ what I said about taking Rachel there?” “Yes?” “I have a gift for Harold that I am dropping off on Saturday and I was going to bring Rachel.” “You want me to come early and spend time with Rachel while you drop off the gift.” Charmaine nodded. “Thank you Jesse.” I sighed, how do I get myself into these things?

Chapter 14

I waited outside on the stairs to the Independent Living Centre the next morning. I could see Charmaine approaching the stairs at around 8-o’clock. Her hair was tied back and she was wearing white capri-pants and a black tank-top. I stood up as she came close. “Hello,” I said. She stopped right in front of me, “So how did you sleep?” “Better than I have in a few days,” I replied. “I guess, me thinking about this took my mind off of thinking about Annabelle.” She smiled, “That is good?” “So, did you talk to Rachel after I left?” I asked. “I let her know that she can’t run up to strangers’ cars to rescue their pets and she its that it was an error in judgement.” I highly doubt she said those exact words. “We went over some distraction techniques that she can use when she really feels anxious. Talking to you, looking at trees, telling someone rather than running off and taking matters into her own hands,” Charmaine explained. Somehow, I didn’t see those options panning out very well. “So, in all curiosity. What do you think Rachel should have done?” I asked. “She could have told you about what she saw. She could have gone to a manager. She could have taken down the licence plate quietly and called the city information hotline.” Charmaine replied. “The problem is...” Charmaine paused. “I think Rachel has an issue with trusting other people so she has a tendency to take matters into her own hands. Us doing this with her may help to renew her trust in adults and figures of authority.” “Is that what we are? Figures of Authority?”

“Well, you are teaching her these things and volunteering here.” “So she sees me as an authority figure?” “Maybe, you are still relatively new.” We had started walking into the centre and up to Rachel’s room. We reached the upstairs floor and Charmaine knocked on the door. “Are you ready Rachel?” “Be a good girl Rachel. We are going to fill out the report and go home. If you need help, just ask Charmaine or Jesse; Charmaine or Jesse.” I could hear her speaking to herself through the door. “Be a good girl Rachel. You are such an embarrassment.” I clenched my lip at the last part. “Did you tell her that part?” “No, of course not,” Charmaine answered. “I would never.” We stared at each other momentarily. Why would Rachel be saying this to herself? “Have you heard this kind of stuff from her before?” “Maybe... she usually says stuff like this to herself to calm her down. She says a lot of weird things... I did say the stuff about asking you and I to her...” she said. “Echolalia usually refers to things someone has heard in the past?” I asked. I really hope I got it right. Charmaine nodded. That means she someone must have said that to her in the past. “Do you often stand outside of her door and listen in on her?”’ “No.” The door swung open and Rachel stood in the frame. She was dressed with a bag on her left arm. “I’m sorry,” she exclaimed. I felt my face flush. I looked at Charmaine to see her smiling, “You don’t have to be sorry for anything,” she said. “So, are we ready?”

Rachel said, “ready,” and shut the apartment door behind her. We walked outside; I watched Charmaine turn in the opposite direction of the bu stop and towards the parking lot. “Where are we going?” I asked. She turned around to look at Rachel and I, “Did you think I was going to let you two bus there?” she asked, “We are going in my car!” Rachel ran up to Charmaine’s side and started following her to her car. I followed behind them slowly. Charmaine’s car was a red mid-sized hatch-back parked in the staff side of the parking lot. It was clean, and dent free. It looked fairly new. The kind of car you would be proud of, sporty! Charmaine had a smile on her face as we approached.. You could tell she took great pride in the car. “Sit up front?” Rachel said. “ what I told you last night? What are we going to do today Rachel?” “Can I please sit up front Charmaine?” Charmaine looked towards me. “What do you think Jesse, should Rachel sit up front?” She must have told Rachel that she needed to speak in full sentences or something. I don’t think I have heard Rachel sound more adult before just now. It felt forced and Charmaine sounded like she was talking down to her. I looked to Rachel, she seemed more stiff in her stance than usual. “It’s okay with me. Maybe I can have the front on the way back? What do you say Rachel?” I said. Rachel jumped and her body loosened as I spoke. “Thank you Jesse,” she said. She ran up to the car and into the front seat next to Charmaine. I ducked into the back seat and we were off. As we drove, Charmaine asked Rachel some questions, “What are we going to say when we get there?” “I would like to report an incident and give a licence plate number,” she said.

I nodded as I heard this. Something made me feel rather uncomfortable, I could not put my finger on it. “Good job Rachel,” Charmaine replied. What am I listening to? We pulled up into the Police Station Parking Lot and let ourselves into the building. Rachel took my left hand and started squeezing it at we approached the doors. “Everything will be okay Rachel,” I said. I sure hope it will be, “We just give them our information and then we can leave,” I finished. I felt the grip loosen slightly, “Give them our information and then leave,” she said. We approached glass barrier behind which two women sat at computers. There was a space to insert items on a small shelf with a series of holes in a circular formation just above. Thankfully there was no one else in line today. One of the women on the other side of the glass barrier looked down at us and began to speak. They must be on a platform in that office. “How can I help you?” she asked. “Pup...” Rachel clapped her hand over her mouth. I watched Charmaine place her hand on Rachel’s shoulder opposite from me. She let go of my hand and walked up to the glass. “Report... I would like to report an incident,” she said. “What kind of incident?” she asked. Rachel paused, “B-B-A-E 4-7-9.” I could hear Charmaine sigh as she said those characters. “It’s all good,” I said to her. “You want to report a licence plate?” The woman asked. “Yes,” Rachel said nodding.

I watched the woman pull open a filing cabinet and take out a form. She slipped it under the glass and handed it to Rachel. She picked it up and walked back to Charmaine and I. We took the form and went to sit down at the table in the waiting room. Scanning over the form it looked pretty standard. It asked for our names, the date and place of the incident. Asking to describe the car and to describe the incident in the space provided below. It even offered to use the back of the sheet if we needed more space. Rachel grabbed the pen from the middle of the table. “Jesse, paper.” she said. I sat myself down on the other side of the table with Charmaine and let Rachel fill out the form on her own. “If you need any help we are here. And , I was there too,” I said. She began filling out the information. Her head was down and I watched her scribble the pen across the sheet. When she was finished, she handed it back to me. Charmaine moved in close to me to see. She filled out the information correctly regarding her name, her age and the address. “Rachel Marie Matheson,” she wrote in first line. I looked back up at her as I read the name. Matheson is a common enough name... I thought. She doesn’t look particularly like Annabelle, though there would be a few years difference. Her disability may obscure the resemblance. Would her family have given up Rachel and her sister at about the same time so that they could retire and not be their caretakers anymore? Did they come across a large sum of money? I took one hand off of the sheet and clenched my fist. It must just be a coincidence or maybe she is a cousin or a distant relative with no real connection. She wrote the address as the address of the Independent Living Centre, followed by her apartment number. Is that how all the residents write the address? Do people know that they live at what is essentially a half-way-house for disabled adults? She described the car as black, she wrote in the year and type, along with the licence plate that she was so proud to . I never looked at the make. How could anyone anything through what was going on? She wrote

down the address of the supermarket we went to too. I did not even know the address; she must have looked it up last night. In the space provided she wrote: “Jesse and I were leaving the grocery store when I saw a small black dog out of the corner of my eye trapped inside the car. There were signs on around the parking lot stating, “No Hot Pets.” and for citizens to the proper authorities if they saw anything. I ran up to the car to see if I could help the dog when the owners approached. They thought I was going after the car when I meant to help the dog. I saw the dog step on a lever as they came up to the care and the next thing I knew the door flung open and the dog jumped on top of me. Jesse and the store-staff diffused the situation and we left the parking lot. I felt really bad for the dog. Those people should not have left their pet like that. I would like to inform the humane-society as well. Thank you.” “Did you tell her to write this?” I asked Charmaine. “Well, I told her that she cannot tell the police that she actually tried to open the door herself.” “Rachel,” I said, “This is really good.” It was hard to believe that the same person who would scream one-word sentences and parrot phrases said around her could write complete sentences in her own words. Little along describe the situation so well. “Would you like to hand this in?” I asked. She nodded. “How about you walk over there and hand it in yourself and we will wait here for you.” Rachel slipped walked over to the glass and slipped the paper under and to the other side. I looked up to see the receptionist take it. “Now what?” I heard Rachel say. I could not make out what the person behind the glass said but from what came out of her mouth it was not good. “That’s it, will they be called? Is there going to be an investigation?” I looked to see her shrug and shake her head.

Rachel made a fist and banged on the glass. I jumped up and grabbed her from behind. I wrapped my arm around her chest and pulled her away from the . “Rachel, that’s enough. You did your best.” I said to her. I watched the woman step back and grab the phone. “I’ve got it, we are going,” I said, “I am so sorry. But please make sure someone sees that report.” I let Rachel go and offered her my hand. She took it and lowered her head. Charmaine stood up and followed us out of the police station. “Well, I think that went well,” Charmaine said once we got outside of the building. “I’m sorry,” Rachel said holding her head low. “You know what,” said Charmaine, “Let’s go get ice-cream.” Rachel perked her head up and started jumping up and down, “Ice-cream!” she said. Rachel spun around and looked right at me. “Thank you Jesse, and Charmaine; I mean it,” she said. I let out a sigh of relief, at least it did not get any worse.

Chapter 15

“Matheson, Matheson, Matheson” I said to myself over and over again on the bus ride to work. What were the odds that she would have the same last name? If her name were Smith or something else that was characteristically common would it give me this much pause? I began to imagine Rachel’s bright sunshine yellow dress falling off to reveal massive scars across her petite and fragile body. The thought made me shiver. What kind of person does these things to people? The same person that hits their child in frustration, the same person who throws their autistic child off a bridge. I tried to rationalize these acts and put myself in the shoes of such a person, but I just couldn’t. I looked down to see my hands shaking. If it was true, how could someone who has been through all the awful things going on in my head still smile like a ray of sunshine? I deeply wanted this to all be a bad dream. I arrived at work on time for my 3-o’clock afternoon shift to be greeted by one of the lead nurses of the department that was taking care of Annabelle. She was holding a large folder in her hands. Harold told me he would arrange for me to speak to someone regarding Annabelle’s case, but I did not expect someone to be here right as I came in. The nurse’s name was Katherine. She was the head nurse in Annabelle’s section. I had spoken to her a few times before; we were friendly. She approached me with a grim look on her face and asked me to follow her. I hadn’t even changed into my scrubs for the shift. She took me into one of the private offices in the Assisted Care Wing. I sat myself down behind the desk, and folded my hands in my lap. I felt my leg bounce up and down nervously. “Don’t worry, you are not the one in trouble here,” she said to me. I know that I am not the one in trouble, but that does not comfort me now. She opened up the folder. In it was the letter that I had written to Harold regarding the incident along with an incident report and some of Annabelle’s records. The folder contained pictures of Annabelle’s scarred back. There were also scars on her arms and lower legs. The ones on her arms looked more like self-inflicted scratch-marks rather than gashes. “What is all of this?”

“Well, from what I can tell, it looks like someone or more than one person, abused her. The scratches on her arms are likely self-injurious from stress and anxiety. People with conditions like this often bite or scratch themselves as a soothing mechanism. That is one of the reasons why someone like Annabelle is kept tied down most of the day. It is to protect herself.” I could feel my own arms burn as I saw the pictures. “Do you have any idea what happened?” I asked. She shook her head. “The report was sent off to the police. The most likely suspect would be a parent or another caregiver. We did some investigation of the mother and the nature of her leaving Annabelle in our care. You see, the father was a rather well off high-tier employee of an international consulting firm with a local office. Both he and his brother died in a plane crash near the beginning of the year. Annabelle was dropped off at the police station a few months after the incident with a large sum of cash. Coincidence?” she explained. “This is... this is terrible. Has she been investigated?” I asked. Katherine shrugged and shook her head, “out of my hands,” she said. I felt myself swallow. “Do you think that she hurt them?” “Them?” Katherine asked. “I mean her!” Freudian slip. “It could have been from her, it could have been from the late father. We are not sure, with a case like this, we may never know.” I looked up at Katherine, meeting her eyes, “Do you know if Annabelle had any siblings or close family ?” “Again,” Katherine started, “that is not my domain. We are only here to take care of Annabelle and make sure her needs are met.” My head fell again. “Right. How...” I paused. “How does someone do this to their own child? How does someone get away with this?”

“Abuse is common within the disabled population. People often wonder, why couldn’t I just have a normal child? Not to mention, a person of such high esteem as her father, may have felt like his position in society was questioned by him having this child. People like Annabelle are often left helpless, they cannot fight back, cannot tell someone to stop, and have little to no grasp of what is going on. Or what they did to cause this...” “That’s disgusting!” I said. I had not realized how loud I was until the words came out of my mouth. I immediately clapped my hand over my mouth. Katherine laughed. “Sometimes, people just are that way. We are here to care for those that are left behind. Sometimes people do things, and in the confines of their own homes, things are just easier. The good news is, the scars on her back and legs appear to be quite old. There is no colour left in them. It seems like there was some contempt for Annabelle. I think the mother just wanted to forget she ever had children after the whole ordeal of her husband dying.” “Has anyone come to see Annabelle since she has been here?” Katherine shook her head. “Not that I know of.” “Am I allowed to look at the report?” I asked She shook her head, “Everything is confidential. Besides, I think it is still with the authorities. Her caregivers may be called to court. It’s best you not dwell on this.” I buried my head in my hands and shook it. “Is there anything I can do?” “Your job. She said to me. Some of these people, we are the only ones that give a damn about them,” she finished. “That doesn’t sound like a lot.” “, you did nothing wrong, this is not your fault.” Radical acceptance. There is nothing you could have done to have prevented this. Give this person the comion and respect they deserve. “I did nothing wrong,” I said back to her.

“I know they teach you all about this stuff, but it is different when you see it.” she reached over and placed her hand on mine. I tried to clear my mind. I looked at my phone, it was ed 3:30pm. I likely had spent too much time here already. “I should get back to work,” I said to her. “You sure, I can tell Harold you need some time off to process things?” Process things? Am I made of paper. I did not spend all this time here and all this time in school for this. “Maybe, I think I will be okay,” I said to her. I would rather work to take my mind off things than go home and stew in them. “Just make sure she is well taken care of,” I said to Katherine, “In case I cannot.” Why do I feel so much for this person I don’t know? Is it because I know how vulnerable she is, or was? I stood up and slowly turned around. I opened the door out of the small office and walked out. I felt myself linger in the doorway. I listened to Katherine slowly get up and side-brush me on the way out. I took a deep breath put on my scrubs. I made my way over to the front desk to see Harold waiting for me. “Harold?” I said. “Going to need you at the reception desk until seven, then clean up till eight-oclock. Don’t worry, we got you covered for that little half-hour. Take it easy.” He slapped a pile of paperwork across my chest. I flung my arms in front to catch it. He started walking ed me, turning his head back to wink at me. As I walked over to the desk, I flipped through the intake forms and other paperwork I was given. Each package was stapled together. Third from the back was a much larger booklet than the rest. I sat down and flipped through the forms to see the name at the top of the larger report. The name on the report was Annabelle Grace Matheson. “Harold,” I said. He was already out of sight. I looked back over t the report, he was likely taking a serious risk by handing me this.

Chapter 16

I got home that night after work exhausted. I had pushed the information out of my brain for the shift, refusing to properly let anything sink in until I got home. Sitting on my bed, I took out the report and let my eyes run down the page. Katherine described that she was part of the team giving Annabelle the intake examination when they made note of the scars on her back, legs and arms. She had noted that the scars seemed rather large to have come from any animal— short of a grizzly bear or a large cat in my opinion. Although, how is someone like her going to get attacked by a bear, I thought. Katherine wrote: The position of the scars on the back likely indicates some form of abuse. I ran my fingers over the scars on the photograph. I looked down to the scars on her arms and legs. Katherine also denoted that the patient was scratching herself during the examination. Scars on extremities were likely a mixture of abuse and self infliction . Disabled people do this as a form of coping with the world around them. The report continued: It is encouraged that Annabelle’s finger nails be kept short and for her hands to be restrained for as much of each day as possible. I cannot imagine what it must feel like to be chained to a bed your whole life. Not allowed to move and having to have someone tend to your every needs. That would be enough to make me want to gouge my eyes out. I suddenly feel much more sympathetic for Charlie. At least he has his hands free and gets to go outside a few times per a week. I continued reading: Mother has been ed for investigation . From the police report, the mother did not seem to care about her. She coldly left her at the police station and left. The second page was a police report that read similarly. It mentioned again that the mother was ed but had not responded. Because the patient cannot testify, the court is seeking a representative. I dropped the paperwork lied down. This happens all the time, I said to myself. What about all the other patients?

Had this never crossed my mind before at all? I pulled myself up, walked over to the fridge and took out a bottle of red wine. I put it on the counter, shutting the door behind me. I looked at the bottle, rotating it between my fingers. I hadn’t drank since… since I met Rachel; Since Harold gave me that talking-to. Take it easy Jesse. I had even stopped buying wine. I unscrewed the bottle and put it to my lips. What kind of drunk does not even poor his own glass? My phone began to ring. I put the bottle down and answered. It was Sara. What on Earth would she want with me this hour? “Sara?” I said. “Hey Jesse, how is it going?” “It’s great. Did you know about Annabelle?” “Jesse,” she paused. “I, there are lots of patients in that place.” “Scratches on her back. It looked like she was whipped.” “Excuse me?” “You know nothing?” “Annabelle?” she asked. “There is a woman named Annabelle, a patient, there is a report on her. Scars all over her back. Her mom abused her because she was disabled,” I replied. “Jesse, I’m sorry. Do you need some help?” I lowered the phone from my ear and looked around my empty apartment. “Would you like to come over?” I asked her. “Okay… Yeah sure,” she said. “Great,” I said giving her my address. I dropped the phone down and went back to the wine. I picked it up and took a sip. Cold and bitter to my lips I took a gulp. I put it down on the counter and sat on my sofa. Do I need a shoulder to cry on? Or what is this? Not that she would do anything

with me? What would be the harm? I walked over to my bookshelf and gazed at my collection of books. Charmaine suggested I read to the patients more, as a way of being present with them. What would you read to someone who would likely have no concept of the story. Whatever you want. My eyes dropped to the third shelf where there was a book of old poems by well known writers. I grabbed it and opened it up. Poetry, rhyme and rhythm speaks to everyone right? Reading poetry might just be the answer. I could read a different poem every time. Maybe I could just tell her how my day was going, or recant events to her. I flipped through the book. As I was skimming the titles, I heard a door knock; that was faster than I expected. I let the book go from my hands and it fell onto the floor. I opened the door to see Sara standing on the other side. I felt my face flush. I could not tell if I was actually nervous or if it was the wine. “Hi,” I let out with a sigh. “Are you going to let me in?” she asked. I stepped to the side, letting her in and shutting the door behind her. She immediately walked in and sat herself down on the sofa. She looked up at me and asked, “How are you holding up?” I replied honestly, “Not great. Everyone keeps telling me that this is common.” “I wouldn’t say common,” she replied, “but not unheard of. It is like the parent that accidentally hits their kid on a bad day. We think these are good people, but there are things we just do not know about people. I am pretty sure we have all wanted to hit someone out of frustration.” I moved to sit down beside her. “I thought I would be more prepared for this.” “No one ever is. You could train and train your whole life, but the real situation can just blind-side you. Performing open-heart surgery for the first time after only doing it on cadavers?” I winced at the thought. “Why I did not become a doctor.” “But you still went into the medical field to help people?” she asked.

I noticed that I had begun to rub my hands together. “We are here to help the most vulnerable,” she stated. “In three years, you have never seen this before?” she asked. Her tone felt almost insulting. I shrugged, “Maybe it has...” I honestly could not . “One day, when my brother was four, a daycare worker pushed him down the stairs.” “Why would she do that?” I asked. “I guess he wasn’t behaving the way she wanted him too. He also was just barely toilet-trained at that point.” “Are people just naturally terrible to people with disabilities?” “I could not tell you,” she answered. “Evolutionarily speaking, we may see them as an affront to our existence, unfit and therefore unworthy of life.” “How could you say that?” “I’m sorry, I don’t think that way. I want to show comion and accessibility. It’s not their fault,” Sara back tracked. I knew she did not feel that way herself, it still hurt to hear her say it though. “She can’t fight back, or anything,” I replied. She leaned her head on my shoulder, “This is our job,” she said. I got up, I got up so quickly that Sara had to catch herself from falling into my couch cushions. “I am sick of people telling me that this is my job and I am just supposed to accept it,” I said. “Remind me to never let you get a job at a hospice. You might just hang yourself,” she replied pulling herself back up.

I shrugged at the thought, “Well where does that leave me now?” “Jesse, no one deserves this, we cannot say it enough. That is why sometimes it is easier to say, par for the course. Don’t you think that doctors wish they could save every cancer patient? They can’t!” I paced back and forth, trying to take in what she said. I had no response, she was right and that was the real answer I needed. “You ever been to a pet shelter? Cats get abandoned every day and these people volunteer their spare time to try and save just one.” Who doesn’t love cats? Great, maybe Harold should have sent me to go volunteer at the animal shelter instead, I thought. “Just another day at the office,” I finally said. “Now I ought to go volunteer at the animal shelter,” I tried to crack a smile. “The truth is,” she continued, “Even if we could bring these people to justice, cases like this often get shoved under the rug, or they get a much lighter sentence than if this were to be done to someone not like Annabelle!” I walked back to the couch and sat back down. I felt my weight sink into the cushion. “I would like to tell you a story,” she said. “When I was working as an intern. I was left alone with an elderly woman while the supervising nurse went to get the blood pressure equipment and her insulin needles. I waited patiently. While I was waiting, I asked her how she was doing. She waited until the door was closed to say to me, can you let me die? I looked at her in confusion. The woman was in her 90s, her husband had died the past year, her family dropped her off here because it became difficult to take care of her. No one from her family or friends had visited her in months. She could barely walk. She could not go outside. Everything that she loved, had been taken away from her and she was seen as a burden on her loved ones. If they had taken her there but came to visit and take her for walks, perhaps things would be different. But she just gave me a blank look and said that she wanted to die. What was I supposed to say to her? What was I supposed to do?” She rested her head on my shoulder again. “Sara...” She rubbed my arm slightly.

“You know, an article came out in the news a couple of years ago, it was all over the province. A nurse had killed 8 elderly people over the span of twelve years not too far from here.” I did that case. “Some were just being difficult, others said they wanted to die. The world is full of terrible people. Perhaps we are no better.” I felt a tear trickle from her face and onto my shoulder. I leaned down to look at her, without really thinking it through I grabbed her face and put my mouth to hers. I wasn’t sure what she would do, but she reciprocated. She released herself from my face, “So I guess this is what you wanted me here for?” I looked blankly at her. “Jesse… do you have anything to drink?” I got up and walked back over to the wine bottle still sitting on the counter. Am I really doing this, I thought. “It’s old, but it’s wine!” I eyed her as I put the bottle to my mouth and gulped it down. Who is using who here? She leapt up and walked towards me. “I am glad I was able to help.” She wrapped her arms around me. I put the bottle to my mouth and took another gulp. She grabbed the wine bottle from my hand and put it straight to her mouth. I guess guess we are ed that part. She looked at me and gave me a wink. She put the bottle back down on the counter and yanked at my clothes. Taking my shirt in her hands she tugged me towards the couch and pulled me down with her.

Once I was down, my shirt came off. I saw a flash of darkness before looking into a playful smile. What am I, 17? What do I care? I grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head in kind. She wore a pink lace bra the clasped in the front. She slowly moved her finger up her stomach inline with her belly button and clasped the middle of her bra. She unhooked it and let her breasts fall out. She lunged at me and continued kissing me. I fell back against the arm of the couch.

Chapter 17

I awoke with a headache. I smiled to see her still lying next to me. How did I manage to fall asleep with her on this small couch? I gently stroked her hair before I felt her body rustle. She slowly sat up and stretched. “You know, I have to go to work.” she said. “Yeah, I know,” I agreed. She got up and walked over to the kitchen area. She grabbed the bottle of wine that was still on the counter. “This won’t be good anymore,” she said. “Not like it was any good when we drank it,” I said following her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and nibbled her ear. She flinched, “Jesse… where are my pants?” I stepped back. “Sara?” I looked back to notice her clothes scattered on the floor where she left them. She walked over to grab them. I took in a deep breath. “You want to get coffee this weekend?” I asked. “Jesse,” she said looking back at me, “You know this can’t happen right?” “Excuse me?” “We work together… I am a nurse, and you are a PSW,” she answered. “Do I really have to explain this?” Yes, please explain to me the inner workings of women and hypergamy. “Oh, and hooking up with me is okay?” “Look, this was fun, and a much needed distraction. But now I have to return to reality, and you need to stop letting things like this bother you. We all deal with difficult situations in this field. I hope I helped you in some way.”

I looked at the bottle of wine and bowed my head. I grabbed the cap and put it back on. “Sure, whatever you want,” I said as I turned around and put the bottle back in the fridge. “That’s good. How about you start the kettle and I will be out of your hair for the day?” “I think Rachel is involved in this.” I blurted out. She stopped stiff, “Why would you say that?” “Because they have the same last name.” “You’ll have to come up with a better reason than that one.” “What, you think I am crazy?” “I think you are over thinking this and you are developing a saviour complex. No, we can’t save her. Not everything is connected, you are not some kind of crime investigator. You are just a PSW!” I bowed my head, “You are right,” I felt my heart skip a beat. “So I will make us some coffee and I will see you whenever we work next, right?” She nodded and pushed her hair behind her ear nervously. “Charmaine wants me to take Rachel to the care centre on the weekend. She wants to drop something off.” “You know,” she said. “I’ll drop by.” Isn’t that nice? I opened the cupboard and grabbed the bag of bread sitting on the third shelf. “Toast?” I asked. “Such a gentleman!” she said with a nod. I popped the bread into the toaster right as the kettle began to boil. I put a spoonful of instant coffee powder in each cup and poured the hot water. I looked back to see Sara pulling her head through her shirt, she was almost

completely dressed. “Are you going straight to work like that?” I asked. “I have some spare scrubs in my locker, and I can take a quick shower there,” she replied. She never ceases to amaze me, “You never cease to amaze me,” I said. “Don’t go crushing on me now...” she said. She just shot me down and now she is playing tongue and cheek with me? She walked over to me fully dressed and took the coffee out of my hand before I had time to hand it to her, “I will grab a better one at Tim’s on my way to work,” she said, “This will wake me up until then.” She took a sip, black and straight. “Good old coffee!” I exclaimed. She reached over and took a slice of toast out of the toaster. “So, I will see you Saturday?” she said. “Yes, definitely,” I said. She gave me a peck on the cheek before slinking off towards the door. She left the coffee cup, on the bookshelf on her way out. It was still half full. “, do not try to save anyone!” she said shutting the door behind her. Still naked, I went back and took the wine out of the fridge. I gulped down what was left of it and let the bottle drop out of my hand onto the floor. I heard a thud but no glass broke. I found my boxers and slipped them back on before heading to the bedroom. I sat down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, things did not look good for me. I lied down, it felt like the room was spinning. I did not just do that. Why did I just do that? Can I actually face Sara after today? Rachel and Annabelle can’t be related. I closed my eyes, they started feeling heavy. I awoke to the bright sunlight beaming down on me from my bedroom window. It was the middle of the day and I just woke up from having weird wild sex and drinking into the night. I did not even do that in college. Who exactly am I? I rolled over and sat myself up on my bed. I no longer felt like I had a head ache. I

was mildly nauseous but not quite ready to throw up. I don’t think I drank just enough for that. I looked at my phone to see that Charmaine had called me while I was asleep. That is just great. I shook my head and stood up. The report was still sitting on my desk with the picture of Annabelle’s bare body splayed out. I still could not get the idea out of my head. Before I had even dressed I took the phone and called Charmaine. “Jesse?” she said through the phone. “Charmaine. Everything is still good for tomorrow, but I wanted to talk to you about Rachel.” “What about her?” she asked. “Has she ever said anything strange to you?” “Jesse, you are going to have to be a bit more specific.” “There are times when she repeatedly mutters things under her breath. Be a good girl Rachel, Daddy’s gone Rachel...” I said. “I think her mom may have said that too her and she is just repeating it as a way to calm herself down in a public place. Maybe she didn’t have the greatest parents...” Charmaine replied. “Was she ever mistreated by her parents?” “Her mother would take her by the wrist and drag her out of places,” she said. “Don’t know a whole lot...” My heart sank. That must have been why she was so quiescent when I grabbed her arm that other day “What if I did that?” “You mean when you were saving the dog? I know you did the right thing. She knows you were right. Now.” What if I caused her extra trauma? I took in a deep breath, “What do you know

about her mother?” “Not very much, she doesn’t talk much about her family life. Her mother waitlisted her for the program. She dropped her off the day she got in with all her stuff. I see her maybe every other week. She drops off some stuff, asks how Rachel’s progress is going and that’s really it. All the money still goes through her to the Centre to me and then to Rachel, which is strange. She occasionally calls.” “Were her parents abusive?” “Jesse, you cannot just ask me that question, I thought we had been over this.” “Right. Does Rachel have any siblings?” “I don’t know, there is a picture that she keeps in her room of her family. Jesse, what’s going on?” “I don’t know if I can tell you…” I panicked. “Well when you finally decide you can tell me everything please do, because until then, you are kind of scaring me.” I scare myself, I thought. After I had gotten dressed and shook off the last of my tiredness, I went to my computer to do some investigating. The advent of the internet has truly allowed people access to information that we never dreamed available. The effort I would have to go through to look up a person without google is simply unfathomable. I included our city to see if it would narrow my options. I opened an article from six years ago. The headline showed a picture of a young woman in a wheelchair standing next to a middle-aged woman with long dark brown hair. There was no denying that it was Annabelle. They were holding a check. The article read of a struggling mother given a new lease on life with the help of local charities. There was no sign of Rachel in the image. This cannot be all. I went back to the search page and decided to look at pictures. There it was, Rachel’s sunny-yellow dress and sunny smile leaning up against the Annabelle’s

wheelchair with her in it. A doting mother behind grasping the handles. They seemed happy, like a normal family, but the scars told a different story. I noticed that I was scratching my arm as I scrolled through the pictures and read the articles. White streaks began to appear on my right arm. I stopped and massaged my skin to help them disappear. The evidence was there in front of me, they were related. But did that mean that Rachel was abused? It did not implicate the mother at all. I leaned back on my chair and let out a sigh. All I could imagine was Rachel crouched in a corner while her mother yelled at her and struck her. She would drag her out of a public place by the wrists whenever she made a scene, I thought. I could not begin to imagine the trauma that must lay dormant inside her mind. I decided to type disability and parental abuse into the search engine. The images were of battered and bruised children and adults. Articles recanting stories of parents and caregivers attempting to kill their children. One man had left his disabled daughter in a car with a dryer hose connected to the exhaust pipe – letting the fumes disperse into the car from the open window. The perpetrators described the actions as “mercy killings,” or “ending their suffering.”“Parents are often strapped for resources and at then ends of their lines, ” the article wrote. I could not imagine being pushed to a place where I would even consider doing such a thing. Charmaine will not give me information, nor will Harold, I thought. I did not want to know this. How could I have been so stupid? People drop off their disabled children and elderly at the centre all the time because they no longer desired to take care of them. Writing a check is much easier than dealing with seizures, screams and adult diaper changes. Do centres like mine and Charmaine’s just enable people to absolve themselves of responsibility? Or do we provide a resource to the general public because we cannot expect everyone to be trained in how to take care of these kinds of people? Was it as simple as: if parents had more resources, then they would not do things like this to their children? Parents are sold a package of false goods. They are taught to think that their child ought to grow up an independent functioning part of society. They get angry when this does not happen. When genetic variation backfires. We are never taught about disabilities in schools. We are only taught about the norm. When someone is born off average, we are taught to fear that. To lock them away from society. So that normal people do not have to come into with

the other. That must be what places like the Extended Care Facility and psychiatric wards are for. They are here to care for and protect those who cannot operate within the confines of society, but also to shelter the rest of society from them. I checked the time; it was just past three in the afternoon. I had done enough information digging up for today. I needed to decide what I was going to do with the information. I could not confront Harold, or Sara, I would lose my job. This was a clear breach of privacy. Yet if I stayed silent, I would be helping to keep crimes from going unreported. People I cared about would continue to suffer. I could go to the police. A report has already been sent. I needed more evidence. I could go to Rachel. I might trigger her. If I upset her, Charmaine would surely never let me see her again. If I hurt her, could I forgive myself? It would be best if I never saw her again. Maybe her happiness was not knowing.

Chapter 18

I met Charmaine in the recreation room of the Independent Living Centre. I sat on the couch as she walked over from her office. “Has Rachel ever been to a place like this before?” I asked. “Not that I know of. I mean, since she’s been here from what I know,” she responded. “So what is the plan for the day?” I asked. “Well,” she said, “As soon as Rachel gets here, we can go.” I arrived about 15 minutes ago, it was not like Rachel to be late for an occasion. Especially to go out with Charmaine and I. “While we wait… Do you think I could see what you are intending on giving to the centre?” “Well, I was given a few of these lovely things as a donation from Hasbro,” she explained. “Toys?” “Well, they are marketed as therapy devices for seniors, people with disabilities and mental illnesses.” I crossed my arms, “Intriguing.” I did not want to believe her. “I will show you the one we have here,” she said. “The other one is in its box in my car.” She went back to her office and came out a moment later with what appeared to be a toy cat. This was no ordinary toy cat. It was as large as sixmonth old kitten, or as a small full-grown cat. It was covered in fur and looked uncannily real. “You have got to be kidding me,” I said.

“I named this one Sylvester,” she replied. It was a black and white cat with white paws and a white belly. “Why haven’t I seen this before here?” “Well, we only received the donation a few days ago, and I wanted to surprise both you and Rachel. It will be a huge surprise to all my clients here. This one will be living here in the centre and will be made available to everyone.” “But how does it work?” I asked. She took the cat in her hands and turned it over to uncover a switch. Once on I heard a small “meow,” and its eyes blinked. At the risk of sounding redundant, “You have got to be...” It meowed again. Charmaine turned it right side up again and stroked it gently on the head. It mewed and batted its eyes. Its paw lifted and then when back down. My hands dropped to my sides, “that is adorable.” “Isn’t it something?” “I might just get it for my own grandparents,” she said. ““I might just get it for myself!” I said, “It is all anamotronic right?” She nodded. “C-Batteries.” Those old clunkers. I got up and stretched out my hand to touch it. The fur was soft, it felt like a real animal. Its eyes blinked and it meowed again. “Forget the real thing, I want this! Forget cats, people should just get this!” “Hey, now, this won’t chase a ball, play with string for hours, or lick your face now.” I placed my hand on its head again, “You know, Rachel might really appreciate this. I can go get her and show this to her. Maybe if she sees it, she will want to come out.”

She looked down at the cat and then back to me, “Yes, you can take it to her, but we got to get going!” She said. I took the cat in my hands, it weighed about as much a 4-6 month old kitten, and walked upstairs. I arrived at her door and gave it a knock. No one answered. Open door policy, I ed what Charmaine said. I slowly grabbed the door-knob and turned it. The door opened. What if some stranger came in here? I wondered. There must be some sort of safety mechanism. I slowly opened the door and walked into the room. The light was on, but Rachel was nowhere to be seen. I noticed the kitchen counter and set the cat down on it before proceeding further into the room. I scanned the room over once more. The bookshelves acted like a wall. I walked up to a gap a little over a 1 metre wide right next to the wall and slowly let myself in. I reached my head in and looked to the left to see Rachel sitting on her bed with her feet dangling over. She was dressed in skinny-jeans and a bright yellow tank-top. On her feet were a pair of red converse sneakers. Her head was hanging low and her hair fell over her face. Her fashion sense made her look like she had just gotten out of a high school peprally; her demeanour read the exact opposite. “Hey Rachel, how are you?” I asked. “Jesse?” She asked without looking up. “Hey Rachel, did Charmaine tell you where we are going out today?” “Not going out today,” she said. “Is everything okay? Charmaine is waiting for you,” I walked further into the makeshift room. I looked up to see myself surrounded by books. My eyes went wide, “Rachel, what is this?” Rachel looked up to see me standing inches away from her, “No!” she said. I looked towards her, “Rachel, what is this? Where did all this stuff come from?” I scanned to see many large, thick covered books. They looked like text books for colleges and universities. One book stood out to me. It was a gold symbol against a black spine. It was a tall-block textbook and on it was a stylized italic “f ”. The unmistakable functions symbol. It represented derivatives, calculus! To have books upon books was one thing. There were many cases of autistic people being prolific readers, collecting their special interests as it were. What

was someone with a supposed IQ of 92 and whom barely graduated high school doing with a university level calculus textbook however? Did she pick it up for the artwork? But there was more: biology, psychology, economics! It struck me: how did she afford all of these books? I slowly walked up towards the book and reached my hand to the spine of the calculus textbook. I put my hand up to touch one of the books. I ran my finger down its spine it was cracked and tattered. I turned to look at Rachel. “Rachel, where did you get all these books?” And when might be the better question. “Have you read all these books?” “Not yet,” she said to me, “No one knows I have all these. My secret.” “Why is this a secret?” I asked. I sat back down on the bed beside her. “Worried that they will take them away,” she answered, “Mom did not let me read. She thought I was stupid” “I don’t think you are stupid,” I replied. I sat back down on her bed beside her. “I went to the University library after work. Took home old editions of books that were left on the old carts. They pushed me through school, mom left me here. Would not let me go to any further. I thought, maybe if I could learn all this on my own, they would let me in.” She picked up these books from the University Library? In three months? I scanned the books over again. Most were older editions with tattered and broken spines. I could feel my heart beating rapidly. Was she really hiding all this from people? “Rachel, this is amazing, but why don’t you want to go out today?” “Well, I’ve never been there before,” she said. I suddenly felt her head resting on my shoulder. My body froze. “Guys!” I heard the door open followed by Charmaine’s voice. “Charmaine!” Rachel said and she jumped off the bed. She walked into the lair and looked right at me sitting on her bed with a glare. “Seriously, I had half a mind to simply go to the centre myself and forget about

you lot. But I come here and find one of my volunteers sitting on one of my resident’s bed?” Is that not allowed? I must have let myself get carried away. I had been doing that a lot lately. “Rachel!” she said. “Yes?” Rachel had stood up and was about three feet away from me. Halfway between Charmaine and I. “Would you like to come to the centre? Jesse and I will be there with you, you know.” Rachel looked back at me, and then at Charmaine. “Okay, let’s go,” she said. Charmaine let out a sigh of relief. She walked towards Charmaine and took her elbow. I shook my head and slowly stood up. As they reached the door out of the apartment I heard Rachel’s foot-falls stop, “Cat!” she said. I watched her body stop from the wall of bookshelves. I could tell that she was keeping herself from jumping up and down. I watched Charmaine pick up the cat and hand it to Rachel. It meowed as Rachel took it in her hands. She took it and brought it close to her as if she were holding a real cat. “Now, we are going to give one of these to the Extended Care Centre where Jesse works so that the people there who cannot have pets can enjoy it. Do you think that is nice?” “Think that is nice,” she said. “So do you think we can get there and everyone be happy?” She nodded.

“Would you like to keep this cat while we go on the trip? You can give it back to me at the end of the day?” “Give it back to you at the end of the day.” There she goes again repeating everything Charmaine said. It was strange to hear her say this after listening to her make up her own sentences and speak unprompted only minutes ago. It felt like she was putting on an act or scripting so that she would not mess up. When she needs to say or do something, it comes out like a script; when she is free to say whatever she wants, to talk about something she loves, it feels more natural. Rachel sat quietly at the back of the car, petting the cat the entire way to the Extended Care Centre, the cat made more sounds than her. “She really likes that thing,” I said trying to make small-talk to Charmaine. She did barely looked at me and kept her eyes focused on the road the entire way. She only said anything after we had arrived on the premise. “Well, Rachel loves animals...” she said after parking while getting out of the car. Rachel stepped outside with the cat in her hands. I smiled, she looked really cute with it. “Rachel,” Charmaine said. “I think we should leave it inside, in case it gets lost.” Rachel nodded and opened the car door again and put the toy back on the car seat. “We don’t have to worry about this animal getting hot do we Rachel?” I asked. Rachel shook her head, “No hot!” she said. Charmaine walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk. She pulled out a large mostly white box with a picture of the cat on it.

I smiled, “That’s it?” Charmaine looked back up at me and gave me a glare. “I can’t deal with this right now Jesse,” I heard her say rhetorically under her breath. I felt my face droop. She closed the trunk and started walking out of the parking lot and towards the entrance to the centre. Rachel and I followed about a foot behind her. Rachel inched her way closer to me until we were standing nearly shoulder to shoulder as we walked.

Chapter 19

We arrived upstairs to see Harold sitting at the main intake desk. A few seniors were sitting on the other side of the room. A pair of older men were playing chess at one of the tables and a group of older ladies were playing some card game and laughing. Charmaine approached Harold while I hung back. I looked at Rachel to see that her eyes were fixed on the game of chess. “Hey, Rachel, you can totally go ask to watch those men over there,” I said to her. She nodded and walked over to where the men playing chess were sitting. I followed Charmaine up to the desk and gave Harold a smile. “Hello Charmaine, how has Jesse been doing working at the centre?” Charmaine looked back towards Rachel and then turned towards Harold, “J is doing great. Rachel over there has taken a real liking to him. Thanks to Jesse here, Rachel is more independent. With help from him and from the program, she should be able to move into her own apartment in community housing within a year.” I looked to see Harold’s face. He smiled at me. Did me spending time with Rachel really do that much for her? Was Charmaine putting on a show to make me look good? First she didn’t talk to me the whole ride here and now she is praising me for my hard work? I opened my mouth to say something, but I could not get the words out. “Well, I had written to a local charity who’s goal it is to get therapy devices into care homes for seniors and the disabled as means of both helping their conditions and give them a better quality of life. I also mentioned you guys here, and they gave me these.” She placed the box on top of the table and opened it. Harold reached his hands into the box and pulled out the cat. This one was an orange tabby with a white belly and white paws. “So these are the cats you were telling me about!” Harold said in a soft voice. I do not think I have ever seen him smile so wide. “This will be so great for our residents. We may need more than

one. I will have to look into this myself,” he said. “Checkmate!” I heard from the other side of the room. I turned my head around to see Rachel jumping up and down. The older man who faced our direction had his hand in the air and a smile on his face. “Looks like Jesse has been teaching Rachel some chess,” Charmaine said. No I haven’t, I thought. I did not know Rachel was a chess enthusiast. “Anyway, this is our gift to you. Hope your patients get to enjoy it!” I looked down at the cat and then back over to Rachel. “You know Harold,” I said, “There is a particular patient that I would like to give this to for a little while first. She has been having a hard time and no one comes to see her. I think she would appreciate it. She may also appreciate meeting Rachel here.” He looked at me and gave me a stare for about twenty seconds. “Yes, would you like to give it to her? I think she would really appreciate that?” “Can I bring Charmaine and Rachel in with me to meet her?” Harold looked down at his desk and then back up at me, “Of course, just let me get one of the nurses to accompany you.” “Is that really necessary?” I asked. I was really hoping it would just be the three of us, or just the two of us would have been ideal. “Of course it is,” he replied. I grudgingly accepted. He put the phone to his face and paged one of the weekend nurses to come and escort us. I took the cat in my arms and walked over to Rachel. One of the gentleman looked up at me as I approached the chess table. “You know your friend is a real natural!” he said.

“Thank you,” I said with a smile. “A real natural,” said Rachel. She was rearranging the chess pieces for a new game. “Hey Rachel, there is someone I want you to meet. I am going to let them see Fluffy here. Now this cat is just like the cat we have in the car,” I said to her. She smiled and reached for the cat. I gave it to her. She looked back at the two men playing chess, “Thank you,” she said, “maybe we can play again sometime.” That was nice of her. I actually could not tell this time if she was scripting or speaking naturally (was there even a difference?). I walked her back to the desk to wait with Charmaine and I. With her right arm wrapped around the cat, she took my elbow with her left hand. I still wondered if she did this because she saw me as someone who is here to help and protect her or if she is saw me as a friend (or more)? The nurse in question arrived about three minutes later. Her name-tag read Adrienne, she was short with long dark hair tied back into a bun. She approached us and asked where we would like to go. “I would like to introduce Annabelle to our new friend Fluffy!” I said. As if on cue, Rachel thrusted the cat towards her in one hand. The nurse looked taken-aback, “Yes, isn’t that lovely?” “I thought it would be nice if Annabelle were the first person to have access to the new therapy device. I also thought it would be nice because I know she does not get many visitors.” I noticed Rachel perked her head up at the name ‘Annabelle,’ and then back down when I said the word Visitors . “Does not get many visitors,” I heard her mumble to herself. The name must have struck a cord with her. I smiled.

Adrienne nodded and took us into the elevator and to Annabelle’s room. She opened the door slowly and let us into the room. I started walking in to see Annabelle lying on the bed with the straps around her arms. I smiled and began to walk through the archway behind Adrienne and Charmaine. I looked at Rachel to see her look into the room. I felt her grip on my arm tighten. As I crossed the line, I felt a jerk. Rachel had stopped moving along with me. I shook my arm free and turned around to look at her. “Hey Rachel, is everything okay?” I asked. “You know, would you like to give Annabelle the cat to hold?” “Annabelle?” she said. “Yea, that is the name of the patient who lives in this room.” “No I don’t want to go away like Annabelle.” I heard Rachel say something under her breath. “Excuse me?” I said. She had turned her head down and her hair fell over her face as it did this morning. “I will be a good girl.” I turned to see both the nurse and Charmaine staring at us in the hallway. “Rachel?” “Daddy is gone now,” her voice started becoming clearer. “He is gone because you have been naughty. Please Daddy, I will be a good girl!” I grabbed her arm to take her inside of the room but she would not budge. Her voice was sharp, clear and monotonic. It was almost as if I was listening to a recording device. “Don’t worry honey, I will go gently. Even if you could understand, they would never believe a retard. Now be a good girl for Daddy. Good girl for Daddy.” Echolalia! I said to myself, the act of repeating words or phrases that one has heard or has said sometime in the past. Someone must have told her this. What did it mean? Did someone try to hurt her? “Rachel?”

“I will only go gently. Stop it! What are you doing to her, no, please. I will do whatever you say. I will be good, I swear!” She let out a scream. She screamed the most ear-curdling scream, like a small animal in pain, it made the room vibrate. “Sissy no! Stop you are hurting her. If the two of you hadn’t been so damn stupid. What did I ever do? What did I ever do? Even if you could understand, they would never believe a retard like you. Now be a good girl for Daddy. Good girl for Daddy.” Rachel’s hands let go of the cat. It fell to the floor as she darted off in the other direction down the hallway we came. I looked to Charmaine and then to Adrienne; they both had shocked expressions on their faces. They appeared completely dumbfounded. “Is there an emergency button you can press to find her?” Charmaine asked. The nurse quickly ran into the room to press the emergency button and then darted out. “Jesse, I’ll have to talk to you about this after,” Charmaine said sounding disappointed. She ran after Rachel with Adrienne running after her. I slowly bent down to pick up the cat; I walked into the room and placed it on Annabelle’s lap. Through all this, Annabelle watched obliviously. I sat down on the chair beside the bed and gave the cat a pat on the head. I smiled as I heard it meow. Annabelle opened her mouth and her face lit up. “Meow,” the cat said again. This played out in my differently head.

Chapter 20

Adrienne came back into the room fifteen minutes later to see me sitting on the chair next to Annabelle petting the cat. Annabelle seemed completely mesmerized by it and its meowed. She looked at it with her mouth gaping open. “You mind telling me why all hell broke loose there?” Adrienne asked. I did not look up at her. I just kept my mouth shut. “Jesse, this could have compromised Annabelle’s safety. I know you are not on duty, but this is serious.” “I’m sorry,” I said finally. “I had no idea that Rachel was going to act out in such a way. You see, she has...” my mouth hung open. I could not get the word out. “Autism? Yeah, your friend Charmaine explained it to me. She and Rachel are waiting with Harold and Sara in the main area where you guys came in. Sara is here? “Sara is here?” I asked. “Look, I am not blaming Rachel; I know you bringing her here triggered something in her. You better tell me what is going on. Harold likely knows about this already, so I don’t think you will be keeping what’s left of your job here unless you start explaining things.” I stood up and picked up the cat from Annabelle’s lap. I walked ed Adrienne without speaking and out of the room. I kept my head down the entire time. “Jesse,” I heard her call back. She was right, I really hurt Rachel. And for what? To prove a point? To prove to myself that she was in fact related to Annabelle? That she was Annabelle’s sister? Congratulations Jesse, you proved it! Now what do you intend to do? Instead of having one abused person you could not save, you have two? What is worse, Charmaine will probably never let you be around Rachel again. I can’t help anyone.

I walked down the hallway and into the elevator. I took the elevator back to the reception floor where Harold was sitting at the desk with Charmaine waiting next to him. Sara was sitting with Rachel beside her on the chairs on the other side of the room. She seemed calm. Her body was rocking back and forth slightly. She did not look up to see me walk by. I walked up to Harold, looked him straight in the eyes and said, “I cannot do this anymore.” I looked to Rachel and then over at Charmaine, “I am so sorry. I cannot imagine the pain I have caused you.” I set the cat down on the desk and walked ed them. “Excuse me?” Charmaine said. I bowed my head and kept walking. I took another elevator down to the groundfloor, walked out through the building doors and started walking down the street towards home. A few minutes into walking I heard a thunderclap and felt a few drops of rain on my head. Just my luck. If this is the Gods’ way of laughing at me, then I accept it. Serves Harold and Charmaine right for believing in me and thinking I could help someone. All I was ever good for was changing adult diapers and cleaning up after them. All I did there was follow orders. I couldn’t help Rachel. I had only managed a kilometre or so when a red car pulled up to the curb of the sidewalk beside me. I kept on walking and pretended to look away. I was sure it was Charmaine’s car. I heard a window roll down, “Jesse!” I heard her call me. I decided to stop, “What? haven’t I been through enough today?” “Get in the damn car!” she said. “At least get out of the rain!” “Leave me in the rain, I deserve it,” I said. “Damn Jesse do you have to be so melodramatic? What are you going to do, go home lie in bed all day? Get drunk? I came to get you. At least get in the car so I can take you home!” she started honking the horn. “Alright!” I said. Charmaine stopped the car. I walked around to the enger side of the car. I shut the door on myself. “So I guess you are just going to take me home?”

“Jesse, do you have any idea how Rachel must have felt today?” “I guess not! But it doesn’t matter because I don’t want to volunteer for you anymore. I have caused far too much trouble as is. It is best you and Rachel just forget about me,” I said. Best that I do that too, even though I know I will not. “O ya, like Rachel is going to do that now. She also won’t forget whatever the hell that was in there.” “Wasn’t it just a meltdown?” “Don’t tell me you did not set this up? Who was that woman?” I bowed my head. I could feel the drops dripping off my face even inside the car, “my best guess is that she’s Rachel’s sister.” “Sister?” I nodded. “You mean to tell me that Rachel’s sister is a severely disabled woman living at an extended care centre only a few blocks away? You knew this?” “I guess so... Can we please just start driving?” She put the key in the ignition and started driving. She jerked the car and started a 3-point-turn. “What are you doing?” I asked. “I am taking you back to the home and you and I are going to talk this out with Harold. I assume that he should know about this...” She was right. “Well I guess I am stuck then, I would almost rather the rain. Did Harold send you to come get me?” I asked. “As a matter of fact, Rachel did!” she said. I felt my heart-rate spike, “Excuse me?”

“Rachel saw you dash out and would only go home with Sara after I promised that I would go get you.” Wow, as tough of a day that Rachel had, she was still wondering about me? “Even after all the screaming and crying, she asked how you were. You see, the thing with people like Rachel is that they are taught that a meltdown is a strain on everyone around them. Rather than take care of themselves, they are taught that they hurt people by acting that way and they are bad for having these intense feelings.” I let my head rest on the back of the seat, “You really know a lot don’t you?” “Well, I had to learn a lot when I got her case. It wasn’t easy since Rachel did not tell me anything herself.” “Sorry about the car,” I said. “It’s just rain,” Charmaine replied. “Is Rachel okay?” Charmaine nodded, “she’s fine, she just needed to calm down. Something must have stirred something up.” “So, what happened after Rachel ran out like that?” “I caught up to her, grabbed her from behind and dropped her down to a kneeling position. I then squeezed her and let her bawl it out. The pressure usually helps sooth her. Once she’d calmed down, I took her back to the lobby area where I ran into Sara. Harold was doing some work in his office. Rachel had calmed down enough sit down. I got her some juice from the vending machine and we waited for you. I told Harold what had happened, sort of...” “That’s good,” I was relieved. “Is that a form of restraint?” I asked. It did sound a little harsh. “It’s a light form of restraint. I don’t mean to hurt her, I just did not want her to get lost or run off into another room. Luckily Rachel has enough self control. I guess she just needed someone to calm her down and tell her everything was

going to be okay.” “Ya, that is good, I guess...” I was glad that nothing serious happened, and that Rachel did not have to be taizzed or tackled or given some kind of shot. “I was half worried Rachel would end up in the hospital.” “Ya, how would that feel on you conscience?” she asked with a laugh. “Also Rachel is not a child, she is not exactly going to regress into a self-harming throwing stuff fit now. Is that what you thought, that you are to do everything to keep her calm because she is a ticking time bomb?” “I don’t know what I am supposed to think. I treat her like a child, I get scolded, I treat her like an adult, and this happens?” “You call that treating her like an adult? You treated her like a pawn. If Rachel reacts, if she recognizes her then I am right, go me!” “Ya, you are right, I got so caught up on trying to crack the case, I forgot that Rachel and Annabelle are people.” “Thank you!” she said. We ed by the front of the Extended Care Facility. “We will finish this back upstairs with Harold!” she said as we pulled into the parking lot. We walked back in through the main doors and made our way back to thirdfloor. We went back to the reception area; Harold was no longer at his desk but was instead in his office. We turned the corner and walked into his office. “Harold, is there anywhere we can have some privacy?” I asked him. “Is this something I should be included in?” he asked. “Yes,” Charmaine interjected before I could open my mouth. “I suppose we could talk in here.” he said. “Should I stay here?” Harold asked. I bowed my head, “For the first part, I will let you know when it comes to a part that I don’t want you to hear.”

Harold agreed and sat back down in his chair. Charmaine closed the door behind us “So, what was all that?” Harold asked. “Well, Rachel is Annabelle’s sister,” that slipped right out. “I think...” Harold looked shocked, “how do you know this?” He looked at Charmaine, “Were you in on this?” I watched Charmaine shake her head. I shrugged, I did not quite know how to explain it. “When we were at the Police Station, I noticed when Rachel wrote her name, she had the same last name as Annabelle. At first it struck me as just a coincidence. But after thinking about a few things. How her mother dropped her off there like she did Annabelle. Things started to make sense. I also ed the scars I saw on Annabelle’s back. I decided that even if they were not related, it was worth investigating because, if Annabelle was hurt, Rachel was likely hurt as well. So, I did some background research on my own time and found some pictures of what looked like a younger Rachel and Annabelle together. To prove my hypothesis I decided to take Rachel to see Annabelle; it was to see if she would recognize her. I figured either she would recognize her and I was right or I would introduce her to Annabelle and Annabelle would get to have a visitor. I did not expect what happened to happen.” “Well, let’s suppose this is true,” Charmaine replied, “Rachel likely has not seen this person in at least a few months, had no idea where she was and does not have very good memories surrounding her. By the sounds of it, Rachel witnessed something bad happening to Annabelle and could not protect her. She likely has some of her own scars surrounding this too.” I nodded in agreement. “Since Annabelle’s case is still under investigation, I thought if we could encourage Rachel to talk, it would help us bring this person, or people, to justice. There is another thing. From what Charmaine has told me, even though Rachel is an adult, her mother still has control over financial assets. She is not a full adult in the court’s eyes.” I think that is the right term. “I thought that by going through this, Rachel could gain some independence from her mother, and the confidence to go through court. She would want to help

Annabelle, and help herself in the process. It would bring into question her mother’s motives for controlling her assets. Maybe they could go to someone who is not going to hold it over her like her mother does.” “That is very sweet of you Jesse,” said Charmaine, “but that is not your jurisdiction as a volunteer here. You are meddling where you are not supposed to be.” “I know, I just wanted to give these two people a chance at happiness. I wanted to stop the pain,” I said. “Rachel seems so happy, but she is carrying all this weight around with her. I wanted to take some of that weight off. I want to give her the life she deserves. I wanted to give Annabelle some peace. I could not protect Annabelle, I could not protect Rachel. I don’t deserve to work here.” I shook my head and grabbed my arm with my other hand. I squeezed hard. “Jesse,” Harold chuckled, “no one expects you to make things simply go away for people. You are not responsible for what happened. None of us can really do anything about it. All we can do is give them love and now. I swear, we will do everything we can to bring whoever did this to Rachel and Annabelle to justice. Unfortunately, we are not lawyers.” I let out a sigh of relief. “One more thing, if you don’t want to work here because you feel like you are taking on the hurt and pain of all our patients I understand. Just know that you are always welcome here,” he finished. Charmaine looked at Harold. “Alright Harold, that was touching. I think Jesse and I need some time alone now,” she walked over to the door to open it. “I ought to get going soon anyway. Close up the front desk for the day,” Harold said as he got up and left the office. Charmaine got up and closed the door behind him. She waited until she could no longer see him in the window. “Okay Jesse, please tell me you are not in love with Rachel.” My body froze. Of course I was in love with her, but what would Charmaine think of me if I told her?

I love her for her charm. I love her for how she can still look at the world with wonder. I love her for jumping in the puddles while it is raining like a child. I love her for her smile. “How did you guess?” I asked. “I am not stupid,” she said. “They tell us all about this in training. You think stuff like this never happens? Nurses sleeping with patients. You are a young guy...” “I am a horrible person aren’t I,” I said finally. “I took advantage of her innocent nature and her trust in me. I also fell for that innocent nature. Are you mad at me? Am I a bad personfor wishing to be in a relationship with my disabled client?” “You make it sound like you are some kind of pedoCharliee. Stop infantalizing the poor woman. If you want her to be recognized as an adult, you are going to have to treat her like one yourself. Especially if you want to do adult things with her.” Charmaine laughed. “I’m not a predator?” “Jesse, how old are you?” “Twenty-four...” I replied. “Rachel is almost twenty-one, do you think you took advantage of her?” “I might have today...” I said. “Jesse, this is not some big-brother big-sister program. You are not helping a child, Rachel is an adult.” “But what if I am only in love with her because I see her as a child?” “Tell me, what do you like about her?” Charmaine asked. “Her laugh, the way she always seeks to do the right thing, the way she does what she loves to do even if it may seem childish. I love how she is her...” “That doesn’t sound predatory.” “I want to help Rachel succeed in life,” I said.

“Perhaps what Rachel needs to succeed in life, is a ive partner. Can you do that?” “Does this mean you are okay with this?” “Jesse, Rachel is absolutely crazy about you,” she said. “Really?” “Yeah, she is always happy to see you. She asks me when you are coming next. The whole reason I got you to volunteer is because Rachel seemed to really gravitate towards you,” she finished. “Will you help me with this?” “The Centre does have legal aid. Since Rachel’s case is already in the courts it should be easy to get a lawyer. If her mother was abusive, it may swing things in her favour.” Charmaine answered. “One more thing Jesse.” “Yes?” I said. She grabbed my face and pulled it so that I was staring directly into her eyes, “If you break her heart, I am coming after you with a pitch-fork!” I smiled, “Done deal.”

Chapter 21

Charmaine drove me back to the Independent Living Centre to see Rachel. “So what are we going to do?” “I’ll see if I can get some legal counsel this week. You must know, things like this can take six months, maybe even longer.” I lowered my head, “I’m aware.” “The important thing to keep in mind is that Rachel and Annabelle are both safe.” Rachel and Annabelle are both safe. I repeated the phrase over and over in my head. Rachel must have been rubbing off on me. “Okay,” I said to Charmaine after about a minute. “So you never explained to me what happened to Annabelle...” I explained to her how I found the marks on her back and that most of the other nursing staff had already found out. “I just felt so sad for her. I could imagine her being struck and not being able to fight back, or even get up and run away. I wanted to cry out for her,” I said. “That must have also been how Rachel felt.” “I had not thought of it that way.” “You see Jesse, for some autistic people their emotions become so intense that they start to shut down. Their emotions just take over. This can also happen when they are happy. They just want to jump and flap their hands and run and dance. But when they are upset, they just scream and run and they lose control. Have you ever felt that way?” “Yes,” I said. “Sometimes, the best way that we can learn, is by sharing experiences.”

We came up to the centre and Charmaine parked her car. “So where do we stand?” I asked Charmaine. She took her keys out of the ignition and looked at me, “what do you mean?” “Aren’t there legal ramifications if I am dating Rachel?” I asked. “Well, as a volunteer, dating her could be considered an abuse of your power. It also will not look good on you, or Rachel if you want her emancipation. As a friend however, you could go to groceries with her, take her to the mall, the park, the community centre... And because I am Rachel’s worker you would have to tell me about her progress and set goals with both her and me in mind.” “You are saying that you wish to treat things like I am still a volunteer?” “Yes, I may have another volunteer come by if you want a more friendly role, but all I have to do is manage my paperwork...” “So you going to pretend that I did not tell you that I have feelings for her and that she likely has feelings for me?” “Just so long as you don’t make a move on her until the courts have made their decision,” she said. “Excuse me? You are giving me the wait till graduation speech?” “Just give it a few months, let this play out. It will be easier to decide once the decision is made.” “Why?” “Because, it will either break her, or allow her to grow. If you break her while you are in a relationship with her, she is likely to associate you with this heartache. You might not want to be in a relationship with her after that one. Not to mention, if Rachel is not able to live on her own and have control of her finances, things could get messy. This thing with Annabelle just complicates things more... Why am I giving relationship advice to you? Also, I could lose my job if anything bad happens to her while she is still under my care. People find out I let a volunteer do this...”

“So why are you risking this?” “Because I like you Jesse, and I love Rachel. And you are right, her mom is an evil bitch. That stays between us or...” “Pitch-fork, I got it. So what now then?” “Just let it come naturally. Comfort her, let her know you are there for her, “What if she makes the moves on me?” “Act like a damn adult,” she said getting out of the car. I looked at the seat behind me, the cat was still on the seat, I reached back and grabbed it before exiting the car. Charmaine let me in and walked me into the reception area adjacent the recreation room. Sara was sitting on the couches as though she was waiting for us. “Charmaine told me to wait here until she got back. I also thought I’d like to speak to Jesse if you managed to bring him here,” said Sara. She looked at me plainly. Charmaine smiled, “Looks like you have some unfinished business.” she said walking off towards her office. “You know, Charmaine has been doing a lot for you, taking time off work to help both you and Rachel. What was that today?” she asked once Charmaine was out of sight. “What were you doing there?” I asked. “Nice to see you too Jesse,” Sara responded, “I said I would come to see you and I did.” “Thanks for taking Rachel back home after that, she probably hates me.” I felt my fist clench. “You think too low of yourself.”

“What if I triggered some kind of PTSD in her?” “Then you can work through it,” she replied. “Because, I know that you will regret walking away from this. The worst thing you can do, is walk away from this.” “What if this person wants me to walk away?” “I’ll be here for you,” she said. “What, with more pitty sex?” I asked. “Okay, that was not the best thing to say, not my most shining moment.” she said. “But, you have a friend if you need one.” “Ya, it really confused me. I was worried that I liked you while also having feelings for Rachel, or what you liking me meant for my relationship with Rachel.” “Look Jesse, I got a little carried away. But I do want to be your friend and help you anyway I can. Maybe we should keep our hands to ourselves next time one of us needs to talk...” she laughed. “Ya, and when you get over that dating up complex of yours. Maybe I should set you up with one of the doctors, or maybe a medical student!” “Yeah, that was a little unfair of me. You are a great guy Jesse,” she said reaching her right hand out towards me. I took her hand and shook it. “Well, Someone is waiting for me,” I said. I took a deep breath. My feet staggered as I tried to move forward. Sara grabbed my hand and started walking. “What are you doing?” “Don’t get lead feet,” she said. “If you are not going to go there yourself, tell me her room number. We are going there.” “Alright already,” I said. I took her hand and led Sara up the stairs to Rachel’s apartment. “So does Nathan live in one of these apartments?” I asked. “Yea, he lives in 309,” she said.

“Well that is convenient. Rachel is not very far,” I said as we finished the last flight of stairs and turned the corner into the hallway. I came up to her door and stopped in front of it. Open-door policy, I ed as I reached for the door handle and opened it. I felt Sara let go of my had. “This is you!” she said as she leaned up against the opposite wall. It was strange, I went from teaching Sara to working with her to working under her at times. She was on her way to becoming lead nurse and here I was contemplating quitting my job. It also felt unreal that I had slept with her only a few days ago, “you know I liked you right?” I said to her. “Jesse...” she said. I nodded and turned to face Rachel’s door again. I opened it and slid in. Once inside, I made my way over to the bookshelves to see Rachel sitting on her bed. Her knees were brought up to her chest, she had crossed her arms over top of them and her head was buried in holds of her arms. “Hey Rachel,” I said to her. She lifted her head to look at me. “I came in to spend some time with you. If you don’t want to talk about today right now, that’s okay. I just want to make sure you are okay.” I looked around at all the different books. To think Rachel collected these to prove that she could learn and comprehend things at a university level was amazing. It felt like a testament to how much people must have actually underestimated her growing up. I sat myself down on the bed beside her. I had almost forgotten that I still had the cat with me. I started petting it. It meowed and turned its head. Rachel decompressed herself and let her legs fall straight. She reached over and pet the cat. It meowed and her hand touched mine. She took the cat by back and set it on her lap. She pet its head a little more. I watched her crack a smile. “You know Rachel, how about we go over a book together,” I said. “Why don’t we try this calculus book over here?” I pointed to the old Stewart Calculus textbook. I got up and walked over to the textbook and ran my finger down the middle of the black spine. “This brings back memories,” I said as I slipped my

finger into the top the spine and gently pulled the book out of the shelf. I decided to be a masochist first year and take calculus even though I did not have to. The entire class slogged through the course accept for the math major who actually knew what they were doing. The book felt old. The addition had just gone out of fashion when I took the course. That put it at at least six years. The cover was creased in areas and the corners were starting to fray. I took the book in my arms and sat down on the bed beside her. As soon as I sat down, she put the cat aside and inched her way closed to me. She stretched out her legs and let her feet hang off the side of the bed. I felt her shoulder press up against mine. I opened the book and Rachel placed her hand over top of mine and turned the page to the start of the first chapter. She carefully took me through consecutive chapters, flipping through the different formulae and what they are used for. “The derivative refers to the rate of change of a given point on the curve,” she said pointing to the line tangent to the curve on the page in the middle of the first chapter. “F-prime is equal to a-x to the power of a minus x,” she continued. That is the classic derivative formula. Her voice was much clearer and her sentence structure actually sounded like I was speaking to an adult. She was not speaking in two-three bursts, nor was she scripting. It felt natural. She continued on, turning the pages as she went. She eventually got to the product and quotient rules as well as the derivative of a circle. I could see her handwriting scattered across the pages, working out the practice equations. Like a real student. It made me laugh. “But what does it mean?” I stopped her. She braked mid sentence and said, “What do you mean?” Blinking rapidly. “Why do we need derivatives? When I drive a car on the highway and I press on the gas to accelerate, you are looking at the rate at which my speed increases each second. You can see my speedometer rising quickly. What is my speed at a given time? Gravity – 9.8 m/s² , which means, that if I jump off a building, the speed of my fall would be increasing by 9.8 –metres per second each second. If I started at zero, 3 seconds in, my speed would be…”

“29.4 metres per second,” she replied almost instantaneously. I saw her eyes go wide and begin to twinkle. She fell back onto the bed. “Gravity!” she cried. I smiled and chuckled, “I think she’s got it!” “Area under the graph is distance travelled; integrals!” her legs flicked up and down. It was as if she never thought about it before. She slowly lifted herself back up to sit and I suddenly noticed her head was resting on my shoulder. “Thank you Rachel,” I said to her. “You are amazing. I want to help you in anyway that I possibly can.” “Help me in anyway you can?” she said, “Can you help Annabelle?” As soon as I heard her name, my head perked up. “Annabelle...” I said. “Can you help my sister?” she asked. I was right. The smugness of vindication made the back of my neck tingle. Please, not now ego. “Your sister?” I said. I got up off the bed and knelt down on the floor in front of her as if I was about to propose. “Rachel, I want to help you, I want you and Annabelle to be free and happy and be able to live your best lives. I want you to be free from your mother and to bring her to justice for the two of you. Charmaine and I want nothing more than to see you successful and happy and thriving. But if I am going to do that, I am going to need your help to do it. It may be scary, it may be hard and you may have to face your mother to do it. You’ll have to talk about all your memories and experiences. All the bad things she or anyone did. I need you to stick with this and see this through,” I finished, grabbing her hands. “But what if it doesn’t work?” she asked. She kicked her feet against the side of the bed. Had I been one inch over to the right, her foot would have hit my chest. I looked up at her and said, “then move in with me.”

Chapter 22

The next Wednesday had come round. Charmaine decided to do a large group game. I helped her place twelve chairs in a circle for the group. We kept one table of 4-5 chairs off in the corner in case people just wanted to do their own thing on a Wednesday night. Charmaine had started making larger group games a monthly occurrence as a way to involve more of the residents and make things more inclusive. It was often hard to make up inclusive games that the majority of her clients could participate in. “What are we doing today?” I asked, putting a chair down into place in the circle. “We are going to play head-bands,” she said. I let out a low grumble, “Isn’t that the game where you wear a word on your head and you ask questions to figure out your word?” “That is the one,” she replied. That game is for kids! How is this going to be inclusive? Generally, the largest inclusion hurdle we had to manage was Lauri’s blindness. Most of the other residents could manage with minor or simply did not care to play. She came up to me and handed me a piece of braille-card. “Make sure you follow this scheme,” she said to me. “Why can’t you just use braille-cards for the actual head-bands?” I asked. “I would rather not have a blind person constantly walking up people, getting really close to them and touching their heads,” she explained. “Yea, I guess that could be a little uncomfortable.” I decided to look over what Charmaine had given me. There were two name-tag stickers paper clipped to the top of the card. They were for Rachel and Lauri. I looked at the paper, it had a list of resident names and the word to be placed on

their head band. Underneath each line was the writing in braille for Lauri to read. How much did she spend on this? Unless of course Charmaine just happened to have a braille printer sitting in her house—I would not, put that past her. The sheet did not contain Lauri’s name of course. She had to play the game too. Good thing we did not have any deaf residents. The words were very simple. Someone was meant to be a cat, a dog, a bridge, and a marsh among items. No pop culture references aloud was one of the major rules here. Keep things wholesome, even though most of the residents were of age, this was after all a public, taxpayer funded centre. That meant no alcohol and definitely no games like Cards Against Humanity and the like. Only good old PG 13 fun. It was almost insulting. The world wants these people to behave like adults so that they can work and not have to them, yet treats them like children at every turn. “Yo, how old are these people again? I feel like we are setting up a play session for a bunch of eight-year-olds.” Summer camp all over again. “As much as I would love to break out the shots and the Cards Against Humanity, I can’t,” she replied. “This is what I work with.” Can’t argue there. I dropped the chair down and eyed it to make sure the circle was not some strange oblong. I heard the footsteps coming down the stairs. I looked up to see Rachel holding Lauri’s hand as they entered the recreation room. The other residents came shortly behind her. Holding her hand? I thought you were not supposed to do that. May be Lauri let her do it because Rachel and her were friends? As long as no one made a fuss I suppose. “So, what are we doing today Jesse?” asked Rachel. They stopped in front of me while the other residents that wanted to play filled in the chairs. I took the stickers off the cardboard and placed everything behind my back. I hadn’t seen Rachel since Saturday when everything happened. Her asking me formal questions seemed to throw me off guard. Is she trying to impress me and Charmaine? Maybe she thinks that if she shows that she can be a mature and independent adult, she’d be able to show her mom that she could have financial control and be allowed to move in with me. I really hope I did not put too much pressure on her.

“We are going to play a game of head-bands,” I said. “Would you like to help me out Rachel?” I asked her. “Help Jesse?” I watched Lauri let go of Rachel’s hand, “Sure, you go help set up.” “Actually Lauri, I have something for you,” I handed her the piece of braille card that had all the names of the residents and what they were going to be. “What if you walked around with Rachel and helped her put the stickers on people’s foreheads as they sit down. I watched Lauri smile as she said, “sure.” Sometimes I wonder if we are being too condescending to Lauri be going out of our way to accommodate her. I am sure she appreciates the effort. I watched her take the paper and skim over it with her other hand. “Where is my name?” “Well, we left it out so that you could have the opportunity to guess as part of the game,” I explained. “Now Rachel, just make sure you do not see your word and make sure everyone doesn’t know what they are. When you guys are done, you and Lauri can sit down and I will give the two of you your words on your heads.” “Is Jesse...” I heard her pause mid sentence. “Sorry. Are you playing too Jesse?” Confirmation, she is definitely trying to sharpen her conversation skills. Or something. “Yes, I will be playing Rachel. Thank you,” I said with a smile. I noticed a light jump in her step as she and Lauri walked ed me. She was clearly suppressing herself. She and walked over to Charmaine who gave them the name-tags for the other people in the group. I heard her say, “If one of the people on the list doesn’t feel like playing just skip them over. If you have to change anything you need to let Jesse or me know.”

Good move, I thought. I looked around and found an empty chair across from me and I sat down. Charmaine came over and sat next to me. I wanted to tell her that she was doing a good job, but I did not want to disrupt Rachel’s concentration. I watched her make her way around the inside of the circle placing the stickers on each person’s head. She would say the person’s name out-loud as she approached each of them. I was sure that it was just as much for Lauri’s sake as is it was for her own. I watched Rachel and Lauri walk up to us. Rachel placed the sticker on Charmaine’s head before coming up to me. “No peaking!” she said. I complied and closed my eyes. “Lauri, how about you sit next to me?” I heard Charmaine say as she tapped the open chair to the left of her with her hand. “Thank you,” I watched Lauri say. “Rachel can sit next to me,” I said. Charmaine and I had chosen the seats such that there would be an available seat on either side of us. Once they were seated I got up and reached into my back pocket to pull out the two remaining name tags to place them on Rachel and Lauri’s heads respectively. “Good job,” I heard Charmaine say as I sat back down beside her. I watched Charmaine lift her feet up and sit in a cross-legged position as she began to speak. “Okay everyone, I am sure many of you have played this before, so what we are going to do is go around the circle and each of you will ask a yes or no question. If you get it right, you can either ask another question or you can ask another question to try and figure it out. After your second question, it will go to the next person.” Charmaine paused momentarily to let people take in the instructions. “You may want to start with very generic questions that become more specialized. You also want to try and address a different person each time

you ask a question.” I watched Charmaine look across to a young man on the other side of the room. “Marcus,” she said, “for example, am I a person?” I just watched him shake his head. “You are going to have to speak up,” Charmaine said. “No,” I heard him say back. “Good, so am I some kind of animal?” I looked up at Charmaine’s head to see the word “Fox” written across it. Of course Charmaine knew what her word was, she organized the game. But she also decided to play along and get into character. Again Marcus said, “no.” We went around the circle and it came to Rachel. I looked at the sticker reading the word “Marsh” on her forehead. How was she going to guess this? The other residents asked questions like: like am I alive? Or am I an animal? What would Rachel ask? She looked at me and then looked around the room. I watched her lock eyes on the person sitting one over from next to her in the other direction. “ “Jolie,” I heard her say in the direction of that person. I was relieved that she did not focus only on me. I was worried that I was going to have to ask her to ask someone else and she would get upset. But she did the thing that got her talking to other people. The thing that Charmaine wanted to see from her. “Am I a place?” Rachel asked. Interesting tactic. Jolie looked at the name and said, “yes.” Her voice ticked up as she said it. I could tell that she was not quite sure how to answer the question. Sometimes the best answer is the right answer. A marsh is not a particular place,

but saying no would probably have led Rachel down the wrong path of questions. It occurred to me that Charmaine gave Rachel a hard (or harder) word on purpose to get her to ask more people more questions—smart! “Am I big?” Rachel asked next. Uh-oh…. I watched Charmaine’s eyebrows go up with intrigue. How was this person going to respond? It said. Jolie had a rather dumbfounded look on her face, “I think you can be small or large,” she said. “But you are usually bigger than a person or a building.” Nice save: that would be how I would answer things, I thought. Rachel placed her finger to her mouth and said, “Okay.” After looking at some of the book titles in her room, I figured Rachel would like a word that required a little more process in figuring things out. Coming to me I chose Rachel, “So Rachel, am I a place?” I asked. I actually did not know what I was. I actually wanted to play the game and watch Rachel try to talk to people in a controlled and structured setting. “No,” she said to me. We went around the circle a few more times. Whenever someone would guess the word correctly, they could take the sticker off their heads and try to help other people along. “Do I have water?” was Rachel’s first question the third time going around the group. “Yes,” I heard Nathan say. Nathan had gotten the easy word of cat and had managed to get it after only two questions. He had no problem asking other people what he was however. She looked at me and said, “Am I a marsh Jesse?” “Yes, Yes you are,” I answered, forgetting that I should have redirected her to

ask someone else. She ripped the sticker off her head and looked at it, “Marsh,” she said reading it. “A drowned wetland with large areas of open water and saturated soils. Lots of water plants and plants that prefer wet soils,” she said. It was as if she had just red a standard textbook definition of a marsh to us. “That’s a really good job Rachel,” Charmaine chimed in, “but it is Jessie’s turn to ask a question.” I sighed. I had pretty much already figured out that I was the dog, but I decided to play along a little longer, “Rachel, am I dog,” I finally asked. “Yes,” I heard her say. After me, Lauri was the last person left who had not managed to figure out what she was. She had the word “Bridge” on her forehead. Every time it came around to her or when someone had to ask her a question she would have to run her fingers back over her braille card before she could say anything. “So I am not alive,” she said, trying to piece together the word, “I am man made, I am strong, made of metal or wood and I am long,” was the information that she had. “Am I a bridge.” she said finally. “Yes!” I heard the person she asked respond. I heard Rachel clap her hands beside me. I could tell that Lauri took a lot more work than everyone else to play the games. Sometimes the best accommodation, was just a little extra patience. I watched Charmaine check her watch. I did too. We had been at the game for about 45 minutes. “Okay, great guys, if you want to keep playing we can, or you can play some other games. Or just do whatever you want. But whatever we do, we need to fix the chairs back.” I stood up to help rearrange the chairs. I watched Rachel stand up. She looked up at me and said, “thank you for the game Jesse.” I just smiled.

Chapter 23

Rachel seemed much happier and I continued to spend time with her and Charmaine. Although Charmaine told me that she did not consider me a full volunteer, I was still allowed to take her out as if I were. I guess she still trusted me even after our conversation. It seemed strange to me that Rachel was not considered a functional adult, she seemed to be doing very well. From my experience in college, I had met many 20 year-olds with fewer life skills than her and they had full access to their ID and to a car even. I guess that is what it means to have a diagnosis and a parent who thinks you are incapable. Maybe I don’t blame her, when I was growing up autism was synonymous with retarded. Perhaps when Rachel had trouble speaking and socializing in class, teachers did not give her enough credit and she did not get the grades. Even if she could actually do the work. Perhaps she spent too much time getting into trouble that her mother put her in a special school that treated her like she was not very smart and spent their time teaching her to act a certain way instead. It was a sunny summer’s day and Rachel and I decided to go for a walk along the creek in the ravine. Well it was more like Rachel decided and I went along with it. She walked ahead of me with a bounce in her step. She were a red knee-length dress with shorts underneath it. She had her head cocked up, looking back and forth as she walked. We came across a shallow part of the creek with lots of rocks. Rachel picked up pace and darted down the slope towards the shoreline. I heard a giggle. As I ran after her, I noticed a bird fly over me and I heard a squirrel chirp in the tree behind me. She stopped at the edge and turned around to face me. She put her finger to her mouth and said, “shhhhhh,” very quietly. I stopped and listened. I could hear the stream flowing and bubbling and birds in the background. It felt really peaceful. “Do you come here often?” I asked after a while. “Sometimes after work,” she answered. “You spend a lot of time alone before you met me?”

“Well, when I got here, Charmaine said I could go out on my own as long as I was back by ten,” she answered. “You know, most 20 year-olds spend time with their friends rather than running off into the woods as a declaration of freedom.” She bowed her head down and then spun around. I heard a splash as she stepped into the water. I watched her jump onto a rock and hop across the creek. “Rachel!” I called. I guess she doesn’t like it when I talk about friends. She hopped from rock to rock with ease and ran up the hill on the other side of the creek. I managed to get my foot on the first rock. I leapt onto the rock ahead with one foot. I felt my foot slip and I fell into the water. Luckily it was only about knew deep and it was warm out. I still had the bright idea to wear long pants today. Rachel turned around as the splash roared and she slid back down the slope to help. Although there wasn’t much she could do as I stood up on the slippery ground and waded myself out of the stream. No use in jumping from rock to rock when you are already soaked. I trudged out of the water with my hands out in front of me for balance, I felt a little like Frankenstein's Monster. I got myself across and clumsily dragged my body up the slope of the bank to where Rachel was standing at the top. She made it look so easy. Once I was up, I looked to see Rachel laughing for joy. I looked down at my wet pants. My shoes had soaked down to my feet and there she was standing in a knee-high dress and sandals, dry as a bone. “I look pretty silly don’t I?” Rachel nodded. “Don’t you?” “Rachel, you never cease to amaze me!” I said to her. “Never cease to amaze me,” she said back. She looked right up at me. “Jesse,” she said. I looked down at her.

“I like doing this, but I like it more with you,” she said. It occurred to me, Rachel had been doing a lot of things by herself. All she wanted was to spend time with people that actually got her and let her be herself. “What do you mean by that?” I asked. She just looked down towards my feet. “You know, it doesn’t matter. Where to next?” I asked. She seemed embarrassed. We continued to walk upstream. The area became more densely forested and the stream winded. There was still a litter of leaves on the forest floor. Rachel stopped and put her hand on a tree. I looked down at the tree to see that a chunk had been taken out of it and you could see into the cambium. I don’t think I have seen beavers in the city before. I looked around to see sticks and twigs on the ground. Further upstream I saw a mound of sticks and larger branches transiting the width of the stream. The mound jutted out of the water and stood about a metre high. “So, is that a beaver dam?” I asked. “Yep,” said Rachel nodding. She grabbed my hand and led me closer to the dam. On the near end, sticks were laid next to one another resting up against transversal sticks that made up the far end of the structure. “You know, I don’t think I have seen a beaver dam up close like this before.” It felt almost surreal to come upon it like this. I felt like such a city-slicker. As we continued walking, the stream widened out into a marshy pond. I could even see a furry blob swimming in the water. I stopped to look around. It looked like something out of a nature calendar or National Geographic. The sky was a crisp blue with the Sun still high. Ducks were swimming in the pond and there was what looked to be a heron on the far side wading in reeds of cattails. There

even appeared to be a mound of twigs on the far side of the pond. A beaver lodge. I seriously need to get out more.“It’s too bad I don’t have a camera.” I said to Rachel finally. A marsh, she took me to a marsh. Now where did she get that idea I wonder. “Rachel, you never cease to amaze me,” I said. I looked around. I could see forest opening behind the marsh in the distance. The light shined through the trees and I could make out a paved path and some buildings in the far-ground. I closed my eyes and let myself take in the serenity. After a few minutes of taking in the scenery, Rachel turned and started walking out of the forest. I almost did not see her dart off. There was no clear path, we weaved in and out of the trees, stepping over logs and other debris. My wet pants turned muddy. I followed Rachel in-between the trees until we got to a clearing and the walk-way. How on earth did we end up back in civilization? I wondered rhetorically. I looked behind me, it felt like I had just come out of Narnia or something. I looked ahead to see a playground in front of me and Rachel walking towards the swing-set. Of course. She made her way to over to the swing set and set down on the swing. She let the swing sway back and forth as I walked up to catch up with her. I sat myself down on the swing. “You know, it was very nice of you to take me on that walk today. I had no idea that there was a marsh and a beaver dam in this part of town,” I said to her. She said nothing and started pumping her legs and swinging. I could hear her laugh as the swing would come back down and she would thrust herself again, higher and higher. At first, I felt ignored, but I decided to in. I had not swung on a swing in a while. I suppose I should consider myself lucky that she did not go for the monkey bars. I started to swing. She glanced over at me with a smile. I noticed her getting higher and higher. Her swing would give-way as she started to sur the 90 degree mark. I watched her turn and wiggle her body to turn and twist the swing. She got two or three kinks in before the swing unravelled again as she came down. I used to do that when I was a kid with my friends. I had stopped pumping and had slowed myself down to watch her. I almost expected her to fall out in mid air. I felt like a parent, watching in fear as their

child fell out of a building. Thankfully nothing of the sort happened. She unravelled herself and laughed as if she were on some kind of ride before planting her feet onto the ground to slow herself down. I had managed to slow myself down in time to get back to her. “Having fun?” I asked. She nodded and started again. I sighed. After swinging for a while, Rachel finally seemed to get tired. I noticed her breathing was a little heavy. She let the swing slow down and sway gently. “Would you like to get going?” I finally asked. She looked up at me. She started gently swinging the swing from side to side. “I guess we should,” she said. It took me a moment to properly process everything that had transpired. Rachel seemed to have enjoyed herself. She spoke to me and showed real independence. She swung and laughed and then she tired herself out and decided to go home. She did not seem to consider much of my thoughts at all today. But she spoke clearly and she led me on what I could only describe as an expedition on the scale of a city walk. She showed me she was independent I guess, but perhaps independent in all the wrong ways. One of the greatest minds of my time could solve the mysteries of the universe but cannot even lift is own fingers. I pulled myself off from the swing and stood up. My pants were still damp and there was now particles of sand attached to cuffs. “Maybe you could take me somewhere special next time...” Rachel said to me as we started walking home.

Chapter 24

We arrived back at the Centre and I let Rachel go upstairs while I waited for Charmaine to re-appear. She came down the hallway from her office and into the recreation room where I was sitting. I felt quite tired. She eyed me up and down. The cuffs of my pants were still damp and covered in sand and I had mud stains up to my knees. There was even a trail of sand from the lobby to the recreation room. “Are you going to clean up this mess?” “Can I make Rachel do it as an assignment?” I asked leaning back on the sofa. “How was your day?” she asked. “Fantastic. Rachel took me to see a beaver dam in the woods at the end of a creek,” I replied. “She took me to a marsh of all places.” “That is nice, what did you guys talk about?” she asked with a smile. “Hardly anything. I think I can count twenty words that she said to me. Progress!” “Jesse!” “I figured something out however,” I said. “Oh, and what is that?” Charmaine folded her arms. “Rachel is very eager to please me and show us that she is independent. Although, she may be too independent,” I said. Ha, how can someone be too independent? Charmaine scrunched her face. “She hardly said a word to me, she did not ask where I wanted to go or anything. I thought we made so much progress with that game. But now she seems to have regressed again somehow.”

“,” Charmaine began, “we gave Rachel a set of rules to adhere to. Letting her get out and simply do whatever, she can get a little tunnel visioned,” she explained. “We need to get her talking if we are going to get anywhere,” I said. “Don’t worry. Just give her the rules ahead of time and she will follow through.” “Ya,” I agreed, “You don’t exactly get given the rules ahead of time with every situation.” I said. “That may be our biggest hurdle. She needs to be able to just spontaneously converse with someone. If you want this to go through, she is going to have to give her deposition regarding what has been going on with her life. Against her mom. We need to convince the judge that she can manage her finances and live alone” she said. “How do I do that?” “Well, what was the last thing she said to you?” Charmaine asked. “Maybe you can take me to somewhere special next time?” I said in a highpitched voice, trying to imitate her. “Okay, we can work with this. There are some things I would like to work with you and Rachel on. Financial literacy,” she said. “What is that?” “Young people these days often have a lot of trouble saving money. You can lose thousands of dollars with a push of a button but saving and properly allocating money is something that people, especially those living on a small fixed income struggle with. People need to take care of themselves, they also want nice things from time-to-time. Me teaching Rachel stuff like this is twofold,” she explained to me, “It is a requirement of the program she is in to get her to graduate. She needs to show that she can manage her and her own finances. If the court sees that Rachel is capable of managing her expenses. That she uses her money wisely, that she can save and budget, they are more likely to relinquish her to her, or at least make it so that her mother does not have such a grip on it. It also gets Rachel out and talking to people.”

“You know what occurs to me as you tell me this? How many college kids do not get this kind of training and they have more freedom to blow theirs and their parents’ money than Rachel ever will? Kids who get their lives handed to them on a silver platter and then blow it. We need to get Rachel to convince a lawyer that she can live on her own, work and manage her finances? Her mother dumped her here with the financial literacy of an eight-year old who just got her allowance. All the money that she gets es from her mom to you...” Lord have mercy. “You know, how many college kids get this test before they go out into the world and blow all their money on clothes and a fancy car?” I asked rhetorically. “Sorry that we don’t just assume competence to people with a diagnosis,” Charmaine replied. “It is like this. Gay people have to appeal to adoption agencies and the government, fork over money, and in some parts of the world have to show that their house is baby proof and that they are able to adopt a child. Meanwhile, straight people just pop kids out left right and center and often don’t have half the resources that gay couple had. When the whole world assumes you are going to fail, you have to do better.” “So people just think disabled people are going to fail?” I asked. “It is more of a prejudice embedded in our history of disabled people. Comes from the times of institutionalization.” “Okay, so by doing this, Rachel is not only fighting for herself, she is fighting for other people that are in similar situations where their autonomy is put into question?” “Afraid so, it is an uCharliel battle.” “What I don’t get is, if Rachel’s mom thinks she is so stupid,” for lack of a better word, “why even bring her here? Why would her mother drop her off here if she thinks she is incapable?” I asked. “From what it looked like, she just wanted her out of the house, but still under her thumb. You know, it is something like this, or Rachel stays with her mom until she is ready, or drop her off at the police station with a suitcase, good luck honey. This gives her mom a little breathing room to not have to parent an adult child but still have control. It also makes it look like she has a vested interest in her daughter's success because this program is supposed to help her daughter

gain life skills.” “So, my question is, does Rachel’s mom think she can actually succeed? Or does she have a vested interest in watching her fail? She knows that she has the where-with-all of a 12 year old when it comes to street smarts!” Does her mom not think that the past could come out? “Many times, parents of disabled children think that they are protecting them by not letting them have total independence. With Rachel’s trusting nature, she could go walk off with a stranger. Or, she will have a meltdown and start screaming at an Officer and they will arrest her for obstructing the peace. She could scream at the wrong person and people will think she is crazy. She may get a job on her strengths, but lose it on her inability to work with the people around her or a desire to do things her way. If we keep her sheltered, we keep her safe.” “So she is just doing this for brownie points? Everyone thinks she is going to fail!” “Well, she’s got us.” “So we need to be there for her like no one else has?” “We need to be there for all disabled people like no one else has been there for them?” Cliche much? Make me sound like a super hero will you? “You know, she told me that she wants to help Annabelle.” “Well, in order for her to help Annabelle, she needs to help herself first,” Charmaine responded. “Rachel will need to show that she is competent, that she can manage her own life. If this gets to the courts, Rachel is going to have to give her deposition. It will have to be convincing enough to throw Rachel’s mother out. People will have to believe it. According to her mother and hence the courts Rachel is incapable of making her own decisions and taking care of herself. This is why her mother is still listed as her guardian while Rachel is almost 21 and why her s all go through her first,” Charmaine said. “You would need to get Rachel to tell her side of the story.” “What are the alternatives?” I asked. I had to know what the worst-case option

was going to be. “Well, we have with other more longterm facilities. If I saw that Rachel was not succeeding here, I could recommend that she be placed in a longer term, more hands on facility. Perhaps with more women of her functioning level. In a kind of group home,” she added. “But I want to see Rachel succeed. I know I am not supposed to get vested this. I am supposed to be an impartial teacher, simply assessing her to give the best call.” “I don’t think Rachel is going to do it,” I said finally, “Especially if her mom is in the same room. She seems almost afraid of what her mother will do to her, even if she cannot actually do it. She might see her mother and just start screaming again, or freeze.” “Well, if we could get Rachel to write out her deposition, it may give us something to work with when it comes to the lawyer,” Charmaine agreed. “It would also give her a script to work off of,” I said. “Ya, okay we can work on that,” said Charmaine. “The lawyer might even like it better. Something in writing is usually good.” Charmaine lowered her had and rubbed her hand across her knee. “It must have been so strange for you to see those scars on Annabelle’s back.” “Yes, but if I hadn’t seen them,” I noticed myself beginning to pace in the room. “I never would have been given the motivation to pursue this case. I would not have decided to look up the ways disabled people have been mistreated by caregivers. This stuff gets over looked by the rest of the world mostly because they are seen as less than human. There was a case where a mother had attempted a murder-suicide of her autistic daughter by letting her car fill up with car exhaust. The father rescued them and she got 15 years. Can you imagine getting 15 years for that level of attempted murder anywhere else.” “No, then again, I don’t know anything about the average sentence for attempted murder.” “This is why I want to help Rachel. All this time I have felt helpless, now I feel like I can actually do something.” “Well okay Jesse, but to help Rachel, we need to help her to help herself.

, sometimes the best way we can help people is by helping them to help themselves. And in order for Rachel to help herself, she has to start talking to the right people,” Charmaine explained. “I will do what I can do the next time I see her. I have a place in mind for where we are going,” I said. “Where is that?” “The waterfront.”

Chapter 25

Wednesday evening came around, Sara had come over to the centre to spend some time with Nathan during games night. She was helping set up the tables with Charmaine and I when she said, “I was thinking to try and teach Nathan to play Catan.” “You sure it is not too complicated?” I said to her while placing a chair underneath the table. “We have two boxes of the game here if you want to make it a Catan night. I can teach one table and Jesse can help out at your table. Jesse, get Rachel to play with you will you.” I had always enjoyed the game. “Well if you insist,” I said. Knowing Charmaine, there was a greater purpose to playing the game. “Why Catan though?” “Catan is about strategy,” she said, “Resource management, but there is also a very social aspect to this game: trading.” I knew there was a catch. “Imparting lessons in using tabletop games. Why not just do the game of life, or Monopoly?” I asked. With that kind of ion, I am surprised Charmaine doesn’t have a Let’s Play Channel. The psychology of tabletop gaming . I’d watch that! “Those games are boring and predictable,” she replied, “Catan is just far enough removed from reality. Rather than money, you have literal resources. Besides, I like it more than those two other games.” “Can’t argue with that,” you are the boss. I could hear footsteps on the stairs. Rachel, Nathan, Lauri and the other residents started occupying the room. There were enough tables and chairs set up for 16 people. “Looks like we’ve got a full house today,” I said.

“That is good,” Charmaine said. I had taught some of the residents to play games like Crazy Eights, Uno, and other simple card games. About three months into the games night motif most of them began forming their own groups and played on their own. I guess what was I needed for then? Couldn’t they just play games on their own whenever they wanted to? Whatever keeps me here and money flowing into this place. The residents gathered near Charmaine. “Alright guys, today Jesse and I are going to be teaching a game called Settlers of Catan. Now I have two copies here, I am going to set one game up over on this table,” she pointed to the table behind us, “and Jesse and Rachel are going to have a game on this table,” she placed her free hand on the table closest to us. She gave me a wink. “As always, if you need any help you can always ask me, Jesse, or even Sara over here for assistance.” It always sounded like she was talking to a room full of children when she spoke to the group like that. “Yes, of course,” I said trying my best to play along. What are you doing Charmaine? I reached behind her and grabbed the red box on the shelf. I placed it on the table and took off the lid. “Catan!” I heard Rachel say. Charmaine walked over to the other table. “Jesse, if you need any help, I am over here,” she said. Nathan walked over to sit next to Sara and Rachel ed me at the table. I noticed two young men walk over to where Charmaine was setting up. At least people are interested. I watched Lauri sit down at the far corner table where there were some card games set up. Since introducing Lauri and Rachel to braille card games, the centre picked up some other card games that were braille compatible. They did not seem to have the money for much else in that department. Guess that’s why a game like Headbands was so important. Rachel, Nathan, Sara and I sat ourselves down at the table and arranged the board. Rachel immediately went for the rules booklet and began reading it

through. “Right, while Rachel is doing that, let’s get the board set up,” I said. We arranged the board according to the beginner lay out in the rules booklet (thanks to Rachel) with the desert in the middle and began. The first thing that Rachel did was place her first settlement on high-probability locations according to the game dynamics. That is what you were supposed to do to get the most resources coming to you each role of the dice (in theory). She placed her second opening settlement four spaces from her first. It was as if she was placing her pieces in such a way that she planned for each settlement to be two spaces away from each other. Looking at the board, this was also setting her up to achieve the longest road quickly. That was a common strategy, especially for beginners. Rachel even explained the concept of ports to us and their value within the game. I thought she was doing very well. As the game progressed and each of us took our turns I began to notice some trends. Nathan had a hard time conceptualizing the most optimal game play when it came to placing his settlements, upgrading his settlements and trading in his resources accordingly. Rachel on the other hand grasped this very well, but she did not anticipate the moves of others very well. She seemed very caught up in her own strategy. “Rachel,” I asked, “Would you like to make a trade with me?” she shook her head and continued to trade with the bank or simply use the resources that she would get on her turns to do things. Nathan on the other hand, took to trading and the buying of development cards much better than Rachel did. He often did not make the most optimal play when it came to placing pieces on the board, but he seemed to grasp other aspects of the game better than Rachel and Vice-Versa. Sara and I on the other hand seemed to get lost in facilitating the game rather than playing it ourselves, which was just fine in the end. I occasionally looked up to check up on Charmaine and the other residents to make sure everything was going smoothly. About half-an-hour into the game, Rachel lost her longest-road card to me after I managed to get a port on the coast, which allowed me to have much better resource trading abilities over her. With the longest road taken from her, she lost her lead and the game started to point more towards me. It came back to Rachel’s turn and she rolled the dice, coming up 11. “Eleven?” she said. Rachel did manage to have a settlement that corresponded to that number, but so did I.

Unfortunately, it did not seem to give her the resources that she was looking for. I watcher her look over the board and then say, “Maybe I should trade?” she finally said, looking at me. “Yes,” I said. “I would like some stone for bricks,” she said to me. I think she might finally have it. I gave her a stone card for her two bricks. “Development card?” she said. Good, it looked like she was getting somewhere. The next turn was mine however. I managed to use the bricks that Rachel gave me to build my last settlement. I flipped over a victory point card and counted to ten. “Looks like I win,” I said. I looked over at Rachel to see what looked like a glum look on her face. “Good job Jesse,” said Sara. “Good job Jesse,” Rachel repeated. Did she mean it or was it simply echolalia? With Rachel, it could be both. She was waiting for the words. “Thanks Rachel,” I said. I knew I had set myself up to win as soon as I had taken the longest road from her. It was interesting to watch her play however. Was this what Charmaine wanted me to observe? I guess so. “Hey, how about you help me clean this up and we can go see how Charmaine and the others are doing?” I said to her. She immediately grabbed her game pieces from the board and started putting them into the little bags they came from. She even started reorganizing the different cards while the three of us put our own game pieces away. I started to take apart the board as Rachel finished sorting everything. The placed the bags into the open box and then stood up to run over to Charmaine. I looked up to see that they were finishing their game too and let out a sigh of relief that everything seemed to go well. I walked over to the other table to see the other residents

continuing to play. I figured there would be fine if we started wrapping things up for the night. At least, I knew what my next move was help Rachel. After we finished cleaning up the Catan boxes, Rachel went over to the table Lauri and the other young lady who’s name I learned was Jolie were sitting with a deck of cards. There was another person playing with them, but they left for the night about ten minutes ago. “Rummy!” I heard Rachel say as she approached them. I noticed Sara packing up her purse. “I better get going for the night,” she said. “Can I walk you guys to your car?” I asked. Sara smiled and nodded. I followed her and Nathan over to her car. “Nathan, tell Charmaine I said thanks for the night,” she said to him. I watched Nathan say yes as she gave him a hug before she went into her car. Before she shut the door, she looked at me, “Jesse, can you walk Nathan back in for me?” she asked. I accepted as we watched her drive away. She honked as her car left the parking lot. Nathan took my hand and we walked back inside. Sometimes I wonder what her family’s plans are for someone like Nathan. The thought occurred to me. Would Sara be willing to have him live with her? If not, then who was I to offer for Rachel to live with me? We walked back into the recreation room and I watched Nathan approach Charmaine to thank her for the night. Charmaine had retreated to sitting on the couch and overlooking the residents. I watched Nathan retreat upstairs before sitting down next to her. “So was tonight a success?” I asked. “You tell me...” she said. “Yes, yes it was,” I said. I looked over to see Rachel playing Rummy with the

other girls. “You think you could give me a ride home after?” I asked. It was just ed eight-o-clock. I figured if could not hurt to ask. I don’t mind helping you clean up. “You know, I have a lot of paperwork to do. You should probably just take the bus home. Would not want to hold you up too long,” she replied. “Well, alright,” it seemed odd. I would have been willing to wait if it meant not having to take the bus. Best not to press it. I looked over to where the girls were playing cards, “How about, the five of us get some games of rummy in before people head in for the night?” I asked. “Good idea,” she said. “Just before I need to do my evening paperwork.”

Chapter 26

I stood in front of my mirror as got ready. I was wearing knee-length jean shorts and green t-shirt. I had not planned out my clothes and dressed for such an occasion in a while. I felt really good about today. I glanced over at my medication bottles that were sitting on my night stand. I had not taken my anxiety medication in a few weeks. I just did not feel like I needed them. I never would have seen myself here a few months ago, it felt strange to be happy. I thought about how happy I was to take Rachel to the beach. I thought about how happy I was to share this spot with her. I even double checked the weather network to make sure we had a nice day. Sunny with a high of twenty-eight degrees. The waterfront gave me mixed emotions in the past. I grew tired of bringing the same patient there every week and staring at the same spot. So to actually feel happy about spending time at the waterfront felt a little strange. I packed a towel and a water bottle in my bag just in case along with all my other essentials and went out on my way. I carefully crafted a plan for my date with Rachel this Saturday. My goal was to get her to talk to me. Have a conversation. Order us lunch, anything. If we can get her talking and sparking conversations with people, she just might be able to tell her story. Charmaine and I also needed to convince her of how important something like this was. I arrived at the centre to see Lauri sitting on the sofa in the recreation room with Iris on the floor at her feet. I looked at my watch, I was a bit early. Iris had her collar on, but I could not see her harness. Lauri had the leash wrapped around her wrist. I decided to walk up to Lauri and say hi. “Jesse!” I heard Charmaine call. She must have heard me come in. I rolled my eyes slightly and turned to walk into her office. She was sitting at her desk. “How are you today?” she asked me. “Great!” I said.

“There has been a small hick up,” she said. “Is everything okay with Rachel?” I asked. “Rachel’s fine. The volunteer who comes to walk Lauri’s dog is sick today. Lauri wanted me to ask if you’d be willing to take Iris for a walk while you are out with Rachel.” I cocked my neck to look back outside of her office over to where Lauri was sitting with her dog, “Is there anything special I have to do?” “Poop and scoop, fetch...” I guess a dog is a dog. “Okay, anything I should not do? I was going to take Rachel out for walk in the waterfront and the go to the beach there” “That should be okay,” she said, “Ask Lauri if Iris can go in the water.” This should not be difficult. “Any news on Rachel and her case?” I asked. “I have a counsellor coming in on this Thursday coming to talk to her. They will relay the information to the lawyer and depending on how Rachel cooperates,” I noticed Charmaine lower her head as she said the word, “We may be able to move forward.” “Best case scenario, what would this look like?” I asked, trying to cheer her up. “Rachel gives her deposition, the jury is convinced that her parents did something to her and Annabelle and her mother is convicted, which means she will likely lose power of attorney. Once that happens, the court will decide if Rachel has the life skills to manage her finances independently and we can go from there.” “I’ll do what I can,” I said to her reassuringly. “Look Jesse,” she said shaking her head, “worst case, we should focus on Rachel having a good life, not the life that any of us want for her.” “I don’t know what you mean...”

“Just don’t push her too much, if Rachel is happier with her mom managing her life and she doesn’t want the extra responsibility and work to pull it off, then let her be.” “What happened?” I asked. “This is taking a toll on all of us, imagine the toll it is taking on Rachel.” I bowed my head, “Yeah, I guess. But she should still learn some life skills...” right? “Yes, I know she wants to. Just at her own pace.” Now I am confused. “Look, just give me the money for today and I will spend some time with her and Iris. Worry about how it went later.” I said to her. It felt harsh. Above all, I wanted her to succeed, and I would not give up on her. I was not about to completely change my game-plan for today. I left the office and walked over to Lauri. “Lauri, it is Jesse, I am sure you know who I am,” I said as I approached her. “I heard you come in, and I heard you talking to Charmaine. Waterfront is fine, yes Iris can go in the water.” Does everyone here just give really dry straight answers? “Thanks,” I said. “Rachel is going to be so happy. Are you sure you are up for it?” she asked. Rachel’s happiness or the dog? “I am sure it will be fine,” I bent down to look at the dog, “right Iris?” The dog looked up at me at the hearing of her name and then rested her head back down at Lauri’s feet. Good dog. “Lauri, would you like to come with me and give Rachel the good news? I am sure she would love to hear it from you!” Yes good job Jesse, that’s the way. If a blind person could give you the look of: really you are making me get up? That was the look she gave me before she stood up. “Alright,” she said, “Time to get up Iris.”

The dog got up on her paws. “Shall I take your elbow?” she asked me. “Yes, of course, I said as I moved beside her and bent my arm for her to grab it. Charmaine came out of her office just as we started walking upstairs to get Rachel. I told Charmaine not to mention anything to Rachel regarding where we were going. I wanted it to be a surprise. “Lauri,” I asked as we started heading up the stairs, “did you let Rachel hold your hand the other day? I thought people were not supposed to do that.” “With people I don’t know or am still getting to know, yes. But Rachel wanted to hold my had when we came downstairs so, I let her,” she explained. “Would you let me hold your hand?” I asked, a little shy. “I would rather we just do this,” she said. “Is that okay?” “Yeah, of course.” We arrived at Rachel’s door. I stood in front of the door pondering. “Lauri, maybe you should call Rachel. I want her to be surprised that it is me,” I said to her. I watched Lauri stroke Iris on the head, “Rachel,” she said as she knocked on the door. Iris let out a bark at the sound of the knocking. The door swung open, “Iris!” I heard Rachel say as she appeared in the door-frame. She looked up at me, “Jesse! Lauri!” she said. “Yes, hi Rachel!” said Lauri. “So, Rachel, I was going to take a nap, but my dog walker called in sick today. Jesse thought you and him would like to spend some time with Iris. I heard you were going to the waterfront.” I winced. Great, she ruined the surprise. “Yeah! How does that sound Rachel?” Rachel jumped up and down and clapped her hands, “I get to take Iris to the beach.”

“Good, yes, we are going to take Iris to the beach. But what do we need for the beach?” I asked her. “Sunscreen, had, towel, water!” she said. “Bathing suit!” “Well, you guys look like you are going to have fun,” said Lauri. The irony of that sentence did not escape me. “I am going to get back to the recreation room,” she said. Lauri handed me Iris’ leash. “Do you need some help?” I asked. “Nope,” she said. She turned around and started walking down the hallway with her hand on the wall. I watched her. I guess that works. I went inside Rachel’s room and helped her pack a bag for the beach. Most of the stuff she could fit in the bag I already had. It saved time that way. No need for both of us to carry heavy bags. We walked downstairs and ed by the recreation room. Lauri was sitting on the same chair that she was when I first came in. Guess she found her way back okay. “Charmaine!” I called. Charmaine came out of her office to see us. “Good to see you guys look prepared. You guys have fun. Don’t forget to drink lots of water.” she said as she turned back towards her office. She looked back to give me a wink before turning in. walked out the door and headed on our way to the waterfront. The sun, was almost at its highest point in the sky and the water was a crystal blue. It surely was a perfect day to be at the beach. “Most major cities are built on some kind of large water source,” said Rachel as we arrived. “Good to know, I guess.” “Do you know why?” she asked.

“Well I guess water is a major resource and it was a primary mode of transportation back in the day.” Good job Rachel. “Yep,” she said with a smile. Rachel and I stood at the water’s edge, “would you like to go into the water?” I asked her. “Would Iris like to go in the water?” she asked. “I don’t know, how about we throw something and see if Iris will go in the water? You can go in the water after her if you like.” I let go of Iris’ leash. Rachel picked up a stick from the ground and tossed it into the water, “Come on Iris!” she said. She threw it off into the water. She kicked off her shoes and ran off with her into the water. I did not even say anything, I just watched and smiled. I took a step back, she jumped and bounced over the waves, I could hear her laughing nearly ten feet out. This truly was a good idea. “That is really adorable,” I heard a voice come up behind me. A woman in a red bikini with long black hair and black sunglasses approached me. Wow, she was definitely something to look at. “Hello,” I said. “Is that your dog?” she asked. I paused for a moment, “We are watching her for a friend,” I said. “Oh, that’s nice, so, is that your sister?” she asked me, referring to Rachel. She pointed off towards the horizon. “No...” I paused. I did not know how do describe my relationship with Rachel to a stranger. “Well,” I began, “She actually lives over at the Independent Living Centre. I have been volunteering there for a few weeks now.” Why am I telling her this? “Oh, that’s really nice of you!” she said.

I felt her had run down the back of my arm from just below the shoulder down to the elbow. I felt the goosebumps form. Is this actually happening? “Yeah, she’s great. The centre has been really good to her.” “So what is a young woman like her doing at a place like that?” She asked. “I never heard of this place before.” “I...” I stammered. “She has autism,” I said, “So, I have been trying to help her to learn some life skills, be more independent, and you know be a friend. Hopefully she will be able to live on her own soon.” I told her. “O, wow,” she said, “that is so, nice of you. You must have a really big heart!” I felt her hand clutch my arm. I looked at her, she was a very attractive person. “Well, she looks like she is doing really well,” she said. I laughed, “wait till she comes back and tries to talk to you.” I said. I looked back up to see that Rachel and Iris had turned around. “So, I guess she is more like lower functioning?” the woman asked. The question gave me pause. Charmaine never really told me the specifics of her diagnosis. Just that she was autistic and that she had some issues with communication and life skills. Sure, she had issues, right? But what exactly did it mean to be low functioning? “I don’t really know what you mean by that question,” I said. “You know, like she needs a little more help than most people...” Well, that was not exactly the worst explanation of a functioning label. “Ya, but we all need a little extra help sometimes.” “Ya, I guess, but look at what you just told me, she is living in a weird half-wayhouse.” “Ya, and there are people who live with their parents past the age of 30.” What is your point? “She just happens to have a label on her head.” I felt myself stepping away. I looked up to see Rachel throwing the stick in my direction. I smiled. “Hey, you know, I never quite got your name.” The stick landed just short of her

feet and Iris came bounding at us. The dog ran right up to where we were, grabbed the stick and started shaking off the water. Rachel was just a few feet behind her. Perfect timing to diffuse the situation. Iris splashed the woman, and I watched her step away. “Ah!” I heard her let out a yelp. Rachel approached us, “Good job Iris,” she said. “Rachel,” I started, “This is...” I pointed at our guest. “Ashley,” she said. “Ashley,” Rachel said to her. “Hi Rachel!” her voice went really high and her eyes went wide. She bent slightly towards her. Rachel glanced at her, looked down at her feet and then back up at me, “Let’s go somewhere else?” said Rachel. Iris let out a bark. What was going on? I looked at Ashley to see a surprised look on her face. I feel you, the first thing Rachel says to you is: let’s go somewhere else. I guess I would be taken-aback too. “Ya, you know, let’s just walk this way.” I grabbed our bags, Rachel’s shoes and pointed in the direction away from our new guest towards the park. Iris followed behind us, dragging her leach in the sand. I looked back at Ashley as we walked away. I was almost thankful to be out of that situation. She started walking off in the opposite direction along the water with her head down and her arms folded. I hoped that did not upset her too much. “Rachel,” I said, stopping. “That was not very nice.” “That was not very nice,” she said, “So, I guess she is more like lower functioning? Not very nice!” she finished. It clicked, “I am sorry that you had to hear that,” I said, “I did not know what to say. I should have defended you better.”

“No,” she said, “I want to defend myself.” I watched Rachel look back over in the direction from where we came, “pretty?” she said. “Are you asking if I think she is pretty?” Is this Rachel’s way of asking if I was interested in that person. I hadn’t thought that far before the situation escalated. Was this Rachel’s way of showing jealousy? Rachel nodded. “Well, she is not as pretty, or as charming as you. Nor is she as interesting or as smart as you.” She looked right up at me in the eyes. I laughed, “Rachel, what does low functioning mean to you?” “That I can’t do things other people can, that I need help. That my mom and Charmaine and you look after me,” she said. “That I am not like Ashley.” “But is that what you want out of life?” Rachel just paused and said nothing. I gazed off into the horizon on the water, “Rachel, when I worked full time at the extended care centre, the place where Annabelle is staying, I would take this man to this beach almost every week. He was in a wheelchair and could not do things for himself very well. So I was helping to take care of him. I also took care of Annabelle. Annabelle doesn’t do things for herself. She may have to live there fore the rest of her life...” “I want to take care of Annabelle. Annabelle can live with me,” she said. “Well, if you want that, then you might live in a house with her, and no one else. You might have to take her to places. You might have to cook for her, and brush her teeth. You would have to take care of the house, you would have to keep a job and manage your own money. I can help you. But I would not be there everyday.” I said to her. I watched her look down at the sand.

Maybe this was a bad idea. “Look Rachel, if you cannot do that, I want you to know that I will be here for you no matter what,” I said. “But, if it is any consolation, I think you can do it.” “Okay,” she said, looking up. “Good. So Rachel, do you like it here?” “Like it here,” she replied. “Was there something you wanted to say to Ashley?” “Hi, I’m Rachel. I like dogs. I like the beach and I like Jesse!” “Well bravo!” I said with a slow clap, totally not realizing what just came out of her mouth. “I like Jesse.” she said again. “Oh,” I staggered back. “I am sorry Rachel.” I walked up to her and through my arms around her. “Thank you,” I said. She was trying to fend her territory. I squeezed her really tightly. I did not want to let her go. “As much as I want to say that I like you too and that we can live happily ever after. I cannot.” I felt Rachel pull away from me. My arms fell to my sides. She started running. Iris bounded after her.

Chapter 27

Well there go my plans for the day. No progress for Rachel. If there was ever a time to call Charmaine for help, now was the time. I got out my phone and called her up. “Hey Charmaine,” I said. “What’s up Jesse?” she asked. “I got myself into a little situation.” “What is it?” “Rachel ran off and Iris went after her,” I explained. “And you chose to call me rather than run after her?” “I suppose I could have done that,” I said. I started briskly walking in the direction Rachel ran in. “But I thought I should call you because I need to figure out what to say to her when I find her,” if I find her. “What happened?” Where do I start? “We were at the beach and Rachel was playing in the water with Iris. Rachel was maybe 15-20 feet away from me. While I was watching Rachel and Iris play in the water a woman in a red bikini walked up to...” “Jesse!” She interrupted me. “I didn’t even get to the best part. So, she starts flirting with me and asking me about Rachel. And I explained that Rachel has autism and that I am helping her out. She then asked me something about functioning and I did not know what to say. Just as that happened Rachel came running back with the dog and asked if we could go somewhere else.” “Right in front of her?”

“Yes.” “Oh, Rachel....” I then proceeded to describe how I walked away from her and what happened after Rachel told me that she liked me. “Are you sure Rachel did not mean that she likes you as a friend?” Charmaine asked. “Given the context, I would say no,” I told her. “You know, if this was anyone else, this would be so precious,” she giggled. “Not the time!” “Right, so what did you say to her?” “Well, I started telling her that as much as I wanted to tell her that I liked her and that we could be together, I couldn’t. She ran away before I could finish.” “Where are you?” I stopped and looked back, “maybe 2 km from the water.” I looked around. I was standing on a path that led into a park near the beach. The sand had turned into grass and there were trees off in the distance. “She could be anywhere.” “Give me a minute, I’ll call her.” She has a phone? “Rachel has a phone?” “What young adult doesn’t have a phone in this day and age?” Charmaine asked. “Hippies and people who don’t have control of their own paychecks,” I answered in a semi-sarcastic tone. “I was more expecting you to have a chip in her.” “Inappropriate Jesse.” “Okay, so why don’t I have her phone number?”

I could hear her shrug across the phone, “you never asked me or her for it? I don’t exactly just give out clients phone numbers to volunteers. Okay, forget about it. Keep walking in the direction she went and I will call you back.” She hung up. I felt a little stupid that I never had her phone number. Then again, she was Charmaine’s client and not mine. I guess it just never occurred to me that she used a phone. Texting would definitely be an easier way to communicate with her. I came up to a forested area. The path turned and there was a dirt trail. Charmaine called back. “Jesse, keep walking, she is went into the park near the beach. “Great, I think I just ed one of the paths to get to the park,” I said with a sigh. “What about the dog?” “Iris managed to get her to stop and calm her down.” “Great,” I said, as I turned the corner down the path. As I turned the corner, I heard a loud bark. Iris. “Wait,” I said. “What am I supposed to say to her?” “I told her,” Charmaine said. “What?” that came out a little louder than expected. Another bark, I guess Iris heard that. Amazing dog! I turned down one of the trails, the forest started getting denser of course! Branches hung low along the path. “So, what am I supposed to say?” I heard a loud bark again. This time louder than before. I looked ahead to see a golden-lab dog about ten feet away from me and Rachel sitting on a bench just a little further down the path. “I see her,” I said. I picked up my pace. “What did you say to her?” “Jesse loves you so much that he wanted you to see your sister, even if you did not know where she was. He loves you and wants to see you be successful and amazing. Because he knows how amazing you really are. But he is also confused, he knows you are hurting but he doesn’t know how to help. Neither of us do. He loves you, but as a volunteer here, it is against regulation for him to enter into a relationship with you. Kind of like dating your boss or your teacher. It would not look good if you were to enter into a relationship right now. Your mom might not think this is the right place for you. If you want this to work, we

need to take this slow, maybe until you can get more control over your life.” Rachel was standing in front of me. She spoke perfectly and clearly. I put down the phone and panted a little. “Did Charmaine say that to you?” I stuttered. Who has speech issues now? That was some serious echolalia. “Yes,” Rachel said. “I didn’t know you could speak like that?” “Speak like that...” I felt like I was going to fall over, as quickly as the breakthrough came, it went. “Rachel, I love you!” I said. I wanted to laugh but it just did not feel right. Just don’t kiss her. Rachel didn’t say anything for a little while. Her head was down, I could see tears coming out of her eyes. “Uh... Rachel.” Do I apologize? “If I can’t do this, then I accept that we cannot be together,” she said. Her head was still down and her fists were clenched. “If I am not an adult, then I can’t have an adult relationship. Look at her, she couldn’t possibly manage an adult relationship!” Her voice went high and sounded cross towards the end. It was as if it was not her voice. “Someone said that to you?” She took a step back. “Look, you should not have to live by the standards forced upon you by other people. Just because you cannot live by yourself or manage your life, doesn’t mean you should not be entitled to love. But if this is something you want, I will help you anyway I can. Also, you don’t have to be 100% all the time. If you feel like you cannot manage, I can help you, and if there is a day where I am having a hard time with something: you can help me. Deal?” “Deal!” she said.

“But if we are going to do this, we need your side of the story of what happened to you and to Annabelle...” “What happened to me and Annabelle?” she said. “Yes, but we don’t have to worry about that right now,” I said. “We can go back to the beach, we can take Iris for a walk in this park, or we can just go home. We can do this on your time,” I said. “Take Iris for a walk?” Rachel said. “Okay, great, lead the way.” Well done Jesse, I told myself. “Jesse!” she said. “Yes Rachel?” “I can only play normal for so long...” she said. I chuckled, “What’s normal?” Rachel led Iris and I through the park and we eventually crossed over back into the beach territory. “So, what are you doing?” I asked. Rachel did not say anything. I looked out into the clearing to see the silhouette of what looked like our little friend Ashley in the distance. I checked my watch, it was now after two in the afternoon. Rachel kept the dog moving, into the sand and down the beach. Please do not tell me you are heading for her. She walked up to Ashley, who was not sporting a pair of shorts over her bikini and was carrying a bag with a towel draped over her shoulder. Caught her just in time. I must have some really weird luck.

I stopped my feet in the sand and watched Rachel walk right up to her. “Hello Ashley,” she said. I grabbed my head with my hands and squeezed it. Please don’t do anything stupid. I watched her walk up to Rachel. “Rachel right?” she looked over right at me and threw me a wink. My head felt like it was going to explode. “I am sorry for running away like that, it wasn’t very nice,” she said. The dog had her mouth open with her tongue hanging out the way dogs do. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” she looked back towards me again, “But it is nice you wanted to find me to tell me that. You are really sweet.” “Say hi to Iris,” said Rachel. I watched Ashley bend down and pat Iris on the head, “Hello Iris, good Dog!” she said. “She is actually a seeing-eye dog. She isn’t working right now. I am watching her for a friend.” “That must be why she is such a good dog,” she said. She looked up at me one more time. “I should get going though. Tell Jesse that he is real lucky,” she said as she turned and walked the other way. Rachel raced back to me and grabbed my hands. She was smiling and jumping up and down on the spot. Looks like I got her to talk to someone after all. Who’s low functioning now?

Chapter 28

After our little scuffle, Rachel took Iris by the leash and calmly walked her home. With the way Iris walked beside her, you would think she was Rachel’s guide-dog. On the way she began to inch her way closer to me on an already narrow sidewalk. I looked straight ahead and pretended I did not notice. “Her name is Iris because she is my eyes,” said Rachel. I felt her hand touch my wrist. I knew what she wanted, could I risk giving it to her? She had been through so much. If we were going to do this, I needed to be all in. Even if things don’t work out, I needed to know I saw this through. Are they really going to prevent me from seeing her? I stopped. It’s not like anyone would notice me holding her hand out here. “Would you like to ask me a question Rachel?” I asked. “Oh,” she said, “Can I take Jesse’s hand?” she asked. I smiled, “Take Jesse’s hand,” I said. This echolalia thing is kind of fun. She took my hand. “So, her name is Iris because she is my eyes. Did Lauri tell you that?” “When I first met her. I wanted to say hi to Iris. I guess I forgot to say hi to Lauri. Hello, I am Lauri. Iris is my best friend. She is a guide-dog. Iris, hazel. Yes, like the Iris in your eyes. Purple, yes, Iris like a flower. You see Rachel, I am blind and Iris helps me see. Like your eyes!” she finished. “That was nice of Lauri to tell you that. Lauri is a good friend.” “Yeah, Lauri is a good friend,” she said back. When we got back to the steps of the Independent Living Centre Iris barked loudly three times. “Lauri trained her to do that,” Rachel said, “it tells her that we are back home. Or in this case, it tells Lauri, who is in the recreation room. Hey Iris is here!”

“Smart dog,” I said. As I took my first step up the stairs, I looked to see Charmaine waiting on the other side of the doors with her head down slightly and her arms cross. As if to say, you are in trouble now. I wondered just how long she had been waiting there. I did say we would be home at about this time. She did not normally do this. I let go of Rachel’s and continued walking up the stairs towards Charmaine. As we reached the top of the stairs, Charmaine opened the door to let us in. “Rachel, Lauri is waiting in the recreation room for Iris. Take her to Lauri please, then meet Jesse and I in my office,” she spoke bluntly and directly. Rachel did not say anything and slowly walked ed her without making eye. I walked up to her, “don’t punish Rachel,” I said to her. “Yeah, she didn’t know anything. I am corroborated in this too,” she responded. I followed her into her office and waited for Rachel. From the glass window, I watched Rachel hand Iris off to Lauri. Lauri got up off the chair to greet her do. I watched Lauri take Iris by the leash and walk out of my line of sight. Rachel walked slowly towards the office. She opened the door and sat in the chair opposite Charmaine. She dangled her feet and let them sway slightly back and forth. She placed her hands one on top of the other in the crease of her thighs. Her head was down and her hair fell over her face. Charmaine paced back and forth on her side of her desk for about thirty seconds before turning and looking at me. “I need both of you guys to know at this is neither of your faults,” she said. “As of Monday, I will no longer be Rachel’s primary case worker here at the centre and Jesse...” she looked right at me. “This will be Jesse’s last day as a volunteer here. I will let Harold know that this did not work out for you.” “No!” I heard Rachel say. I was almost shock that I did not get the word out in time to say it first. I guess I was still in shock and processing. “Were you fired? Who put you up to this? You cannot do this to Rachel,” I said.

“No one put me up to this, I haven’t said anything to anyone. This is my decision,” she replied. “What about how far we’ve come? If you do this now, Rachel is bound to regress. She surely will not be able to move out in time.” “Bound to regress if you do this?” I heard Rachel say. I really should not have said it like that while she was in the same room as us. “That is just it. I have become too attached to Rachel, and to you. If I keep going in this direction, I am risking my job. I cannot do that.” I stood up straight, “So, what is going to happen here?” “I’ll will know more Monday, but it has become blatantly clear that I cannot do this anymore,” she said. I looked over at Rachel and then to Charmaine, “Do this and I won’t see Rachel again!” “I don’t buy that, and even if I did, there is nothing I can do about that!” Charmaine replied. She called my bluff. “I get it,” said Rachel, finally. “Jesse, does what Rachel did today strike you as something a normal 20-year-old would do?” Charmaine asked. “Hasn’t this whole experience been to challenge my perception of normal? Our whole lives we are taught to believe that normal is the gold standard. I have worked with not normal people for almost four years, and they are some of the most amazing people I have ever met! Yeah, I don’t think any normal collegeaged person would have told some random woman on the beach to shew as the first thing out of her mouth, but I damn know that anyone else in the same situation would be thinking the exact same thing! Thought process: a woman in a bikini is flirting with the guy I like.” Did I just say ‘thought process ’ out loud?

“Rachel, you are acting like a 16 year-old girl crushing on her senpai!” Charmaine said. Sixteen, hey, that’s credit. I don’t think I had ever been referred to as a senpai before. I looked over to see Rachel giggling. “Senpai notice me!” she said. “And you Jesse, you are just crushing on the first pretty young woman you have spent a significant amount of time with other than Sara. Seriously, should I have assigned you to a young man? You worked in a centre taking care of older disabled men and now you get to pretend that Rachel is your wifey for a few hours a week.” I thought about it; she was not completely wrong. “You set me up with her. You knew I liked her, and you couldn’t say or do something before hand?” I asked, knowing full well that she could have and chose not to, and explained it to me. “That was an error in my judgement,” she replied. “Error in judgement,” I heard Rachel say. I watched her stand up off the chair. “Rachel where are you going?” Charmaine asked. “Going home,” Rachel answered. Guess she must have had enough for today. “Take care Jesse,” she said to me as she approached the door. I waited for Charmaine to stop her, waited for her to bar the door or tell her not to leave. She did not. Rachel opened the office door, and simply let herself out. “Can’t blame her, I’m burnt out too,” I said. “That was actually very mature of her.” Charmaine watched the door shut behind her, “she’ll be okay,” she said. “She just needs some time to process things and cool herself down.”

“I hope so. Can’t imagine what’s going through her head right now.” I said. I suppose she could run off to her room to commit suicide. “How are you feeling Jesse?” she asked me. “Well I feel kind of angry,” I said, “but I am also worried about Rachel.” “You are no longer a volunteer here,” she said to me again. “Well, am I supposed to just accept this?” I asked. Stupid question Jesse. “What do you think you should do?” Everything that led me to this point felt like a big test from authority. Harold, Sara, Charmaine, I knew this was manipulative. “I supposed I could try a dating site again...” “That’s an idea...” “I got it,” I said, after about a minute of pondering. I nodded my head. “I am no longer a volunteer here. I am no longer coming here on a set schedule. I am no longer going to be placing you or Rachel in a compromising position. I am no longer going to be volunteering to help Rachel. I am under no obligation to see Rachel or help her in the context of learning life skills,” I continued. “Yes,” Charmaine said. I nodded once more, “So, will you find a new volunteer for Rachel?” I asked. “I will have to inform my supervisor and take care of the necessary paperwork. That will likely take a few days. It will be up to the new case-worker to decide what Rachel’s needs are based on the report and their evaluation of her.” “So, what happens to Rachel?” I asked. “She has until the end of the year to figure that out in of her time here in the program.” “And her case?”

“Not my problem.” “I can’t say that,” I protested, “I won’t allow it!” “I did not think you would like this...” she replied coldly. “So, you are no longer in charge of when I see Rachel, and what I do with her?” I asked. A slight grin arose on her face, “That is correct Jesse. Trust me, this hurts me too,” she said. “Okay, but if I were to come here and see Rachel as a friend, would people stop me? I mean, your residents are aloud to have friends?” I said. “Well, all guests must sign in and sign out and if residents are not going to be here for a night, they need to sign out...” she said. I nodded. “Okay, I think I got this. Charmaine, thanks for everything.” I said to her before walking out of her office. “But, you should probably still go home. Rachel has been through a lot today.” It felt like she had just read my mind. “Totally...” I said. I got up ans walked out of the office, hands in my pockets and head held low. I sauntered over into the recreation room and looked around. I looked up at the cat sitting on the bookshelf next to some of the games and smiled. I heard my phone beep, telling me I had a new text message. I took my phone out of my pocket to see that Charmaine had sent me a text of a new phone number.

Chapter 29

Harold called me into work for Monday; he had not called me in since the incident. It seemed weird for him to call me when I had not worked there in more than two weeks, especially after that speech he gave me. He did not say why (typical Harold and his surprises). At least it was a warm sunny morning as I walked to the bus stop and got on the bus to the Long-term Care Facility. I felt anxious to go back to the Long-term Care Facility after everything what had happened. I looked down while on the seat to see myself wringing my hands together as if I was washing them. I immediately pulled my hands apart and smacked them on my knees (pattycake!). I hadn’t ed Charmaine or Rachel since Saturday evening. I’d spent a good chunk of the weekend worrying about her. She’d come so far, and to be handed this as a result, I felt to blame. I pushed her, I gave her the hope that she could have some semblance of a normal life, maybe it was my fault. Charmaine must have felt partly to blame, she protected me. At least this way, she couldn’t lose her job for keeping it a secret (or was less likely to). I just had to keep telling myself that she did the right thing and that everything would work out. What if Rachel just regresses after this and does lose whatever I thought she gained from me and from Charmaine? I can’t just forget her. I was not about to let myself. Thinking about Rachel was not a good idea to make the anxiety go away. If Rachel were a normal college student, this would not be weird at all. A little over three years difference was nothing, She was an adult, she came to this conclusion. But was she so trusting and naive that she’d had taken to anyone in my shoes? I hadn’t had a real date in almost a year, so maybe I was just happy to have a young woman to spend time with. Maybe I did not take this job seriously enough and that was why I ended up in the situation I was in. Would I have pursued her if she did not say yes, could I have lived with only being a mentor figure to her? Was Rachel really that far from normal—from a normal young adult in the 21st century? Was she really not able to function in society as everyone else? Was I, at 20 or 21 so much more apt at life for Rachel to be deemed inept? From what I knew, Rachel did not partake in serious drugs, she

did not spend her nights drinking and having reckless sex like many twentyyear-olds I knew at twenty. But most twenty-year-olds would not occupy themselves by bouncing around at a trampoline park and pay very little attention to their friends. Most twenty-year-olds simply did not do what Rachel did and Rachel did not do what most twenty-year-olds would do. I wanted to believe that Rachel could make her own financial decisions and live on her own, but maybe her perception of independence was different than the world’s expectations of her. I got off the bus and made my way into the Long Term Care Facility, up the elevator and towards the intake desk. Harold was standing behind it helping reception. I watched him turn and look at me as I exited the elevator. I habitually checked my watch, even though I knew I was early and was not actually called into a designated shift. There wasn’t going to be a real consequence for being late. I approached the desk. “Jesse,” he said to me. “Annabelle’s case has progressed, we have a Lawyer here who has been assigned to her case. She has been interviewing some of the staff and I know you really wanted to give your statement.” “Give my statement?” I said. “Yes, he has spoken to a few other workers including the nurse who filed the original report, along with any other staff who were willing to speak on the situation. Her documents have also been handed over for review,” he explained. That’s progress! “This is good, right?” I asked. “Well if everything falls into place. , regardless of the outcome, Annabelle is still disabled, will still be needed to be taken care of and will still have very little autonomy.” That seemed like a strange thing to point out to me before going in to talk to the person. He handed some papers to the employee at the reception desk before taking me into his office. I walked about a foot behind him; the walked felt longer than it usually did.

A woman with dark hair tied in a bun appearing to be in her mid 30s sat on the other side of the desk in Harold’s office. There was a notebook on the desk in front of her and what appeared to be a recording device to the left of it. “Rayanne Thomas, this is the employee I was telling you about. I think Jesse may be instrumental in shedding some light on this case. Sorry I could not get him too you sooner, he is currently on a stress leave from work,” Harold explained as I walked in. That’s what he calls it. “There was also a certain incident involving Jesse that may shed some light on the situation,” he continued. Great, let me talk, will you? I drew in a deep breath, “Harold, will you give us some space?” I asked as I sat down. He declined, “Annabelle being the responsibility of this facility, and you no longer a full-time staff member, I need to be present for this.” This is going to make me nervous. I clenched my fist and obliged. There really was no way around it. Rayanne began, “This conversation is being recorded and may be used in court, do you agree to the circumstances?” she asked me. What are my options really? “Yes, I agree.” I responded. She nodded, “this is a difficult case here. In no small part due to the fact that the client in question is unable to properly give her statement in a court of law,” she said. “What is your relationship with the client?” she asked me. What was my relationship to the client? “I was working part-time here as a personal worker,” I explained. I felt my right leg start to shake and bounce up and down. Telling myself to have nerves of steel just was not cutting it. “You know,” I started, “I could tell you about the marks that I found on Annabelle’s back. I could tell you that I suspect she had been abused and I could tell you that whoever did it was likely seeking to assert power over her due to being disabled and not cooperative. I could give you my side of the story. However, you probably got the gist of this from talking to the other nursing staff

here already.” I looked at her, her face did not disagree with me. “Can I ask you, what do you know about Annabelle’s mother or her parents?” “That is confidential information. The person in question is considered a ward of the state,” she replied. Of course. “What if I told you I was able to get you in touch with Annabelle’s sister?” I asked. “Someone who may be able to give a first-hand of what happened to her rather than trying to piece together what may as well be a forensic case? Someone who may know something about the family dynamics?” I looked over at Harold. He mouthed, “What are you doing?” at me under his breath. I’d have found it comedic under normal circumstances. “I would be intrigued,” she replied. “Rachel Marie Matheson, age 20, currently living at the Independent Living Centre on Northcrest Avenue,” I began. “Is this person a friend of yours?” she asked. “It seems strange that you know this person’s sister.” “Yeah, it is a little strange, I guess.” “You see,” Harold jumped in, “Jesse has been volunteering at the Independent Living Centre a few blocks from here. That place is home to people with mild to moderate conditions who are learning skills to be able to live on their own...” he explained. “I see...” “Yea, so...” I stammered, “I was… have been mentoring this person named Rachel and when I found out that there was a chance she was related to Annabelle...” “A chance?” Rayanne asked. “Well, I saw her name and I decided to do some investigation.” I described to her

the events that occurred concerning Annabelle and Rachel a few of weeks ago. “Alright,” she said, “Thank you Jessie. I would be interested in speaking to Rachel, but given the circumstances, I will need to go through this Independent Living Centre.” “Ah… sure?” did I just create more problems? “Are we done?” I asked nervously. “Is there anything you would like to add?” “I think it was Annabelle’s parents!” I blurted out. I watched Rayanne scribble something down in her notebook. “That is an extremely severe accusation. At this point, the statement is purely speculative.” I let out a sigh, “Yes, I am sorry.” I shook my head and held it low. I drew in a deep breath “Look, Jesse,” she said, “I know you mean well.” “Thanks,” I said. “Although, it might not be easy to get Rachel to talk,” I said. I slapped my hand against my mouth. I looked at her to see her chuckle. “Thank you for your time Jesse,” she said as she closed her notebook and stood up. She took the recording device and quietly walked out of the room. I felt myself slouch back as soon as she left. “So, how are you doing Jesse?” Harold asked. “Great!” I said, lying. “Have you been keeping in touch with Charmaine?” I asked. “Not especially recently,” he said. “Okay,” I said getting up. “So, how is Charmaine?” he asked me before I had the chance to

“Actually Harold, Charmaine decided it would be best for both her and for me if I do not volunteer there anymore. Any other crazy ideas you got for me?” “I don’t know ever thought of working on an oil rig?” “No?” “Okay, so what happened?” “I put Rachel and Charmaine in a compromising position,” I replied. “So, what do you want to do?” “I think I need to do something else,” I said. “I don’t know, you could try meeting someone?” “I am twenty-four, I grew up on the internet, I could find me a girl in 10 minutes if I really wanted to...” “Yoga’s always good!” he said. “You got me into this. If it weren’t for you, I never would have tried something new and gotten out more,” I said to him. He walked over to the door, “And if it weren’t for me, you would be depressed and still taking Charles to the waterfront every day. You wanted to find new purpose in life, finish what you started.” Harold did have a point, “You think I can come in this week? I’ll help out with the paperwork, maybe tend to some of the patients.” I offered. “I want to do what I can.” Even if these patients were not going to get better, I could at lease ease their pain. At the very least, I could prevent more pain from being had. “Of course,” he said. “You could come in Thursday,” he replied. “You know Harold, I could offer to read to some of the patients again, or just spend some time with some of the people who don’t get a whole lot of visitors...” I suggested. “It may help me take my mind on what’s been going on.” Harold opened the door to let me out, “thanks for stopping by, you are always

welcome here,” he said. “No problem, I am always happy to help,” I said as I walked towards the door. “Oh, by the way Jesse,” he said, “if you do run into Charmaine again, let her know that the seniors can’t get enough of that cat she brought us, I may just have to get another one! One for every floor!” he said. I smiled, “I am sure she will be pleased to hear,” I said as I left his office to go back home.

Chapter 30

I had sent Rachel a text during the week and we agreed for me to meet her at her apartment in the Independent Living Centre Thursday in the late afternoon. I arrived a little after 5 pm to be greeted by a young man with dark black hair and an Asiatic complexion. He seemed to be on his way out. “Can I help you?” he asked me as he approached me. I halted and looked up at him. I felt my heart racing in my chest. “I am here to see a friend. Do I need to sign in?” He looked me over, “It is just after 5 pm, I am on my way out for the day. You can can wait until the evening staff comes in to sign in with her,” he told me. “Typically all guests are required to leave by ten-o’clock,” he replied. “Who are you here to see?” he asked. “Rach-el,” I answered. “Are you a friend of hers?” he asked me. “Yes,” I answered. I felt my voice go up as I said it. He looked up and down at me as though he were sizing me up. “How do you know her?” he asked me. “I...” I could not think of a coherent answer to tell him. I heard the doors to the centre open behind me. I looked behind me to see Charmaine walk in. “Hello Eric, working late?” she asked. “This visitor here says he is friends with Rachel?” he asked. Charmaine looked at and then back at Eric, “O, ya this is Jesse. Rachel and him met at a community meet up a few weeks ago, it all checks out. I got this. You

can head home now.” she said. What? Just go along with it Jesse! Eric gave me another weird look, “alright, just make sure he signs in and is out by ten!” He said to Charmaine as he walked ed us and out the door. I watched Charmaine roll her eyes, “Who has been working here longer?” she asked rhetorically. “That would be my replacement.” “He seems nice,” I said with a shrug. “You work this shift now?” I asked. “Yep,” she replied, “From 5-10.” “Every day?” I asked. “Jesse...” “Oh, yes, sorry,” I said, “How about I just sign in and go to see Rachel? As I had intended.” “Let me walk you to the office and I will give you the sign in sheet,” she said as she started walking me over to the office. It felt strange to be going back to Charmaine’s office after what happened. “So, how have things been going?” I asked her. “Well, this is my first day back after all the changes were settled,” she answered. “Actually, Eric is Rachel’s new primary worker.” “That guy?” I asked. “Yes...” she said, “Why?” I shrugged, “he seems nice.” “Yea, hopefully this will give Rachel a new perspective,” she said getting into her office. She reached into a drawer in her desk and pulled out a clipboard with some papers inside of it. She handed me the clipboard with a pen and I signed my name on the available

space. There were a few other names on the sheet, three from today. “So, I guess I am going to have to see if Rachel likes me for me, and not because I am her Senpai...” I said. Charmaine put her hand to her forehead, “I really should not have used that word.” “Yes, I was surprised you knew that word!” I chuckled. “Anything you can tell me? Any news on her case?” “Just be yourself, and not my problem,” she said bluntly. “So, what about you?” “Well, they have me working part time until they can find me a new case,” she explained. “I’m sorry, are you going to be okay? Financially speaking?” “Yea, I needed a break, managing this was too stressful. “That’s good. Well how about the three of us go to the extended care centre. You know, they have a violinist that comes in once a month to play for the patients. Maybe that would be good for Annabelle?” I suggested. She took in a breath, “That sounds lovely,” she replied. “Oh,” I almost forgot, “Harold wanted me to tell you that the cat was a big hit with the seniors!” Charmaine smiled, “glad he likes it.” I awkwardly gave Charmaine back the clipboard before leaving the office and heading upstairs to see Rachel. I arrived at Rachel’s door and gently knocked on it. I opened the door to see Rachel sitting at her desk with her laptop open in front of her. “Hey Rachel,” I said, “How are you?” “How are you?” she said back.

I walked in and looked over her shoulder at the computer screen. “What are you looking at.” “Online shopping for groceries, Eric showed me. Gave me 50 dollar prepaid credit-card,” she explained. Online shopping, why didn’t Charmaine and I think of that? That would have saved us so much hassle. “That’s good. So do you go pick them up or deliver?” I asked. “pick them up or deliver,” she answered. I rolled my eyes, of course. “That’s great, are you shopping now?” Rachel nodded. “So, how does it work?” I asked. “Make virtual shopping cart, click send, pick up, charge fee,” she said. That was very precise, I thought. “Would you like me to come with you to pick it up tonight?” “Yes,” she said. “So Rachel, when you are done, or now if you like, I need to talk to you about some things,” I said to her. She swivelled the chair around to face me. “That’s good,” I said. “Eric is your new worker?” “Eric is my new worker,” she replied, “Showed me online grocery shopping!” I smiled, “that is great. Rachel, do you like Eric?” I asked. “Yes!” she answered. Her face looked confused. “Do you think you could like Eric like how you said you like me?” I asked her. I wanted to see if she understood the difference. Did Rachel like me? Or did she take affection to anyone that was nice to her?

“Like Jesse?” she said. “Well, I was helping you out and being nice to you because I was volunteering here. That is why Charmaine had to leave and I could not volunteer here anymore.” “I need to know that you like me for me and not just because I am nice and helping you...” “But that is you...” she replied. Wow, she is so sweet. I let out a sigh. “So, what if Eric wanted to kiss you?” I asked, trying another tactic. “Would you like that?” She shook her head. “But if I wanted to kiss you would you like that?” I asked. Rachel’s eyes went wide, “Want to kiss Jesse,” she said. Was that supposed to be a question? “Do you see that it would be wrong for Eric to want to do that, and for you to desire that from Eric?” “Not stupid Jesse!” she said. I smiled. “I guess you are used to people thinking you are stupid aren’t you?” She nodded and furrowed her brow. “I just wanted to make sure for myself (and for Charmaine), that you liked me and that you were not crushing on me just because I was helping you...” “Well, should I like Nathan?” she asked. “Maybe...” I said. “Or someone else at the centre...” “Nope, I like Jesse!” she said. “Well, I hope that clears things up,” I said.

“That’s good,” she said. “Also,” I continued. “A Lawyer came to see me a few days ago. She is representing Annabelle’s case. This case is difficult because Annabelle cannot speak for herself. Rachel, you are the closest thing to Annabelle speaking for herself. We need you to speak out for Annabelle. Do you think you can do that?” She tilted her head to the right, “I... I don’t know.” I looked down and away from her, “ “There is literally no one else who can stick up for Annabelle. No one else knows that happened to her. We are going to need your deposition.” She tilted her head downwards. “Do you think you can tell me what happened?” I asked her. I watched Rachel kick her right foot back and forth slowly for a few seconds. She slowly lifted her head and swivelled the chair back around to towards the compute. I watched her move the mouse across the screen and open up a blank word document. Once she opened the program, she turned back around to face me. “You want to type out your deposition?” I asked. “Yes,” she said. I smiled, “that is great, you don’t have to right it now, you can think about it for now. You don’t have to tell me, you just have it ready for the Lawyer; let’s say Monday” I said. Always to give her a clear goal. “Monday,” she said. I smiled, “That’s great, so how about you finish up your grocery list and I will take you to the store to pick up the stuff?” “Groceries” she said as she turned her chair back around and opened the web page.

We arrived at the grocery store at around 7:00 in the evening to pick up Rachel’s groceries. I was towing the bundle-buggy behind me. The parking lot was relatively empty compared to the previous we were here together. I was somewhat relieved to be coming here to simply pick up an order that was already collected for us rather than having to go through the grocery store again. Fewer variables and fewer things that could go wrong. I was almost upset that I did not think of this first myself. Charmaine and I were so focused on getting Rachel to learn life-skills and get her outside that we forgot that she might simply prefer to do things differently. Lots of people had their groceries delivered to them. We approached the sliding door entrance to see a black dog tied by its leash to a nearby bike-lock. The dog got up as we approached and started barking. Rachel looked at the dog, as soon as it got up she yelled, “puppy!” and walked over to it. Somethings never change. She knelt down and patted the dog on the head. The dog was all black with floppy ears. It looked like a short-haired black version of Iris. “Rachel, we should really go inside,” I said. “We probably should not play with someone else’s dog while the owner is not here,” I added. “Owner is not here,” she said. She jumped up and down in front of the dog and the dog let out another bark. I heard the exit-doors slide open behind me. I looked to see a familiar looking couple walk out of the doors with a shopping cart full of stuff. “Oh no!” I said out loud. I grabbed Rachel by the wrist, “Rachel,” I said and I gave her a tug. I yanked her body away from the dog as the couple approached. She turned around to look at me just as the couple approached the dog. “Out to cause more trouble are you?” the woman said as she walked up to the dog. “Puppy!” she said.

“Certainly gotten bigger,” I said nervously. “Yes, not much of a puppy is she?” the man said. “Hello, how are you?” Rachel said, finally looking up and turning to face them. The woman gave Rachel what appeared to be a cross look, “we are fine thank you. Now, did the two of you simply come here to play with our dog?” “No hot pets!” Rachel said as she jumped up and down and clapped. I smiled, “I think Rachel is thanking you for not leaving your dog in your car this time.” “Well of course,” said the woman, “we would not want to receive a nasty call and have to pay another $175 again. Thanks to this little heroine!” she said. “This little heroine!” Rachel echoed. The woman managed to untie the dog and took it by the leash. “What is the dog’s name?” Rachel asked. They just looked at me. “Sorry,” I said, “you know she just really likes dog, we look after a dog that looks a lot like yours. Her name is Iris, she is a golden-lab mix.” The man smiled, “Her name is Coco,” he answered. “Coco!” Rachel said. “Richard!” said the woman. “Well I am glad to see that you are both doing well and that your little friend is not trying to break into anyone else’s cars,” he said as he walked ed us. The woman gave a tug on the leash and the dog started walking as they moved ed us into the parking lot. She gave one last look at Rachel, “I would have hated to have come back to a dead dog,” she said.

“B-B-A-E 4-7-9,” she said as they walked away. “Did she just thank you?” I sighed. Could she have said a worse thing? Rachel jumped up and down and waved her head side-to-side. She watched them walk away for about 15 seconds before finally turning to me and saying, “Groceries!” It took me a moment to recollect my thoughts, “Yes, let’s go get your groceries,” I said. Perhaps her actions really can make a difference. We managed to get back home without a hitch and went back up to Rachel’s apartment. I did not even see Charmaine as we walked in. Rachel seemed very happy as we walked home, she skipped ahead of me most of the way. I had to tell her to take the cart for a little while and she agreed to. I sat myself down on Rachel’s desk chair and leaned back as far as it would go. “So, how was that?” I asked. “Good,” Rachel answered. “I want you to know that I am really proud of you. Thanks to you, that couple didn’t leave their dog in their car that time,” I said to her. “No hot pets!” she said. “Yeah, no hot pets!” “I can write the deposition,” she said. “I thought you already said to me that you would write the deposition?” I asked. “But now maybe I can make a difference, for Annabelle?” she said. I looked at her, got up off the chair and gave her a hug! She patted me on the back, “Thank you Jesse,” she said. I released her and stepped away to give her space. “Do you need my help? Is

there anything I can do?” I asked. “Be Jesse,” she answered. I smiled, “you know, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” “Need more sweets!” she said. “Yes, I need more sweets.” “So, Rayanne is going to come by in a few days (I hope) and you just have that letter ready for her. We will go from there. Also, we can spend more time together if you like. Are there some things that you would like to do with me?” “Lauri wants to take me to the park with Iris...” she said. “Go see Annabelle, help out at centre!” “You want to go see Annabelle at the centre and you want to take Iris for a walk with Lauri?” I said back to her. “Something you want to do?” she asked me. “Well,” I thought about it for a moment. “I could take you to a cat-cafe...” “Cat-Cafe!” she said jumping up and down and clapping. I smiled. I really hope that everything works out for her.

Chapter 31

I found myself back at work on the Friday evening shift (3 pm- 9 pm) with a smile on my face and a slight jump in my step. Was there something in my coffee? I came upon Sara in the break room getting ready to leave just as I had come in. Her head was low as she started walking in my direction. “Sara!” I said. She looked up at me and smiled, “Hello Jesse!” she said. “Good to see you back here in scrubs.” I instinctively looked down to check myself over. She giggled, “you look great!” “So, how have you been?” I asked. “O, great, patients are doing well!” she responded. “Have you gone to see Nathan recently?” I asked. “Actually, my parents asked if I wouldn’t mind Nathan living with me...” “Hey, that’s nice,” I said with a smile, “you think you would like that?” “I don’t know, small apartment.” “I’m sure you can make things work,” I said. “Think of it as having a roommate...” “Yeah, a roommate I’ll have to take with me if I ever get married... Can you imagine the look on my date’s face. By the way, I have a little brother with a condition who lives with me.” I chuckled, “So this is why? Everyone has some kind of baggage. You just don’t want to tell your parents that he’ll cramp your style,” I said. Maybe it was

karma’s answer for treating me like a human pogo stick. Now now Jesse, disabled people are not ironic comeuppances. “I hardly see my siblings or my parents. Just be thankful you have a good relationship.” She crossed her arms and let out a sigh, “I suppose that is fair,” “Who knows, he might find you the perfect guy. Post him on your dating profile, shoe away all the bad ones!” I watched her think it over, “not a bad idea...” “It also shows that you have great maternal skills!” I said. “Yes, that is exactly what I want to flaunt to men...” she said back to me. “Great to see you Sara!” I said with a smile. “You always manage to light up my day here!” “Yeah, and you’re getting better at this whole advice thing!” she said. “I’m sure the two of you will figure things out,” I looked over Harold’s shoulder to see Harold walking up behind Sara. “I should get going,” I said. “As should I,” she said back. I skipped past Sara towards Harold with my right arm in the air. He had me sit at the reception desk as per usual. About half-an-hour into my shift a middle aged woman with long brown hair and a light-skinned complexion came in. She kept looking back and forth in the room as she approached the desk. Something struck me about her as vaguely familiar. “Can I help you?” I said as she finally came upon the desk. She placed her hands on the desk and ran her fingers along the far edge. I decided to ask her again, “are you looking for someone?” She looked up at the ceiling rather than at me as she spoke, “is this where a person named Annabelle lives?” she asked. I glanced around, Harold had gone off to his office. Aside from the usual crowd,

sitting at the tables on the other side of the room, I was alone. “We... We don’t usually just give out that kind of information to anyone who just walks in,” I answered. “I... I,” she stuttered, “I am her mother. I went to the Police Station earlier today. They told me that she would be here.” I felt my jaw drop in surprise. What could she be doing here? I bowed my head, opened the side drawer and vigorously flipped through the files pretending to be looking for Annabelle’s. I knew it wasn’t in there. I took out a random file and held it up to my face to cover my expression. Smart move Jesse, “Annabelle doesn’t have any next of kin listed. We only let authorized people see our most vulnerable of clients.” It wasn’t false. We didn’t exactly just let anyone walk in on a severely disabled patient. That would be criminal. “I haven’t seen her since...” she stuttered again, “since she has been here.” I knew that, I knew the only visitors that Annabelle has had was Rachel and I that one day. “Yes, strange how you haven’t come to see your daughter since you abandoned her at the Police Station,” I blurted out. I squinted and pulled the papers over my face. Did I want to get myself fired? “Excuse me?” she said, “Is there a supervisor I can talk to?” she asked. I felt myself sink in my chair. “Let me get him,” I said pulling myself up. “Will you wait here?” I asked her. She nodded with a smile. It was Rachel’s smile. With the papers still in my hands, I walked down the hallway and over to Harold’s office where he was sitting, “Someone is here to see a patient,” I said to him. He looked up at me from his desk, “Who?” “Annabelle,” I said. “And who is it?”

“She says she is her mother.” He immediately pushed himself up with his hands braced against the desk and walked out of his office. He walked right ed me, barely glancing at me. I walked briskly behind him. He came up to the woman and I fell back ten feet before him. “I am sorry if one of my staff is giving you trouble Madame,” he said to her. Giving her trouble? I felt my fists clench at my side. “Sir, I just wanted to see my daughter, Annabelle,” her voice was much softer than when she spoke with me. I raised an eyebrow. “Do you have any ID?” he asked. I watched her reach into her purse and pull out her wallet. She gave Harold her ID. I couldn’t read it from where I was standing. Harold glanced at it and gave it back to her. He turned to face me, “Jesse, could you be a dear and grab me the sign in clipboard.” I walked over to the desk, and moved the papers around to uncover the visitorclipboard. I handed it to him, my hand was shaking. “Normally, we prefer our visitors call ahead, especially if this is their first time here. Try to bring some kind of record that Annabelle is in fact your daughter next time. I’m sure she would be happy to see you. She doesn’t get much in the way of visitors,” he said politely, “It’s so hard for patients like her. Jesse, how about you escort our guest to her room and supervise the visit. I’ll have someone cover for you.” He turned back to look at her, “Half-an-hour,” he said. “If you wish, I am sure we can offer you a longer visit if you call in advance and bring some paperwork we can .” I was surprised he let her through without paperwork. Of course she didn’t bring any, she thought she could just waltz in. The nerve of her. Harold handed her the clipboard and watched her sign it. She gave it back to him.

I could still feel my heart beating rapidly. “Jesse!” Harold called. “Take our guest to Annabelle’s room.” I let my fist go and I walked up to her. “Thank you,” I said to Harold as I led her to the elevator. We stood awkwardly on opposite corners of the elevator waiting for the elevator on its way to Annabelle’s floor. I felt like I trying to get as far away from her as possible while being in a confined space. Why was she here? Why now? Why would she try to find her months after she left her at the police station? Could she be having regrets? I finally decided to look up at her, she stood against the mirror and cuffed her hair behind her ear. “How old are you?” I asked. She smiled, “I’m forty-two,” she answered shyly. “Seventeen,” I said reflexively as the elevator dinged on our floor. “Yep,” she said slowly, “sixteen years and ten months actually!” She rocked back and forth slightly on her healed shoes before walking out of the elevator behind me. We walked down the hallway and towards her room. I looked inside and then lowered my head. I ran my finger down the corner of the door frame. I turned back to the woman, I gave her a look right in the eyes, “How about you go inside and I’ll just look over her paperwork, don’t mind me,” I said. I stepped to the far side of the door and motioned to let into the room before I went in after her. I watched her sit down while I went for Annabelle’s bedside chart. I took out the clip board and pretended to flip through it. She put her hand on Annabelle’s, which was propped up on the side of the bed. It felt like she was looking at someone who was dying, or already dead. “How has she been doing?” she asked. “Oh, she seems fine, someone came in to give her breakfast, they wheeled her into the recreation room earlier today, she had lunch, she has been changed and turned over consistently on time each day.” I read off from her daily logs very dryly, “as far as I can tell, she is perfectly well.”

I watched her smile, “I guess that’s great. You make her sound like she’s not really a person.” “I....” “I’m just joking, I know you probably see many patients like her and you are just trying to reassure me that she is being cared for the best way you know how. I guess I don’t expect you to form some kind of connection with my daughter,” she answered me gently rubbing her hand up and down Annabelle’s right arm. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Do you think she is happy?” she asked me. “I... I don’t know,” I answered. “Was she happy with you?” I asked her. “I... I don’t know,” she answered. I put the clipboard at my side. “You know, it’s never too late to change that,” I said to her. I felt my heart sink as I said it. Something about Annabelle’s past? Did she know that I knew that I was looking into the eyes of her ab (I think that’s too much superimposition for me to handle)? My eyes squinted and my teeth clenched. “You could come again, eat lunch with her, take her for a walk. Just talk to her, tell her about your day.” “Well, my day has been okay,” she said, “I just thought I would check up on my daughter, to know if I did the right thing. I decided to take up bird watching. I went to Florida for the first time, on a vacation.” “That sounds lovely,” I said. “You know, Annabelle might like to see the birds. The staff here sometimes take our patients for walks down by the waterfront. Lots of birds there. You don’t have to run off thousands of kilometres.” I looked over at Annabelle, her mouth opened a little wider than usual. It looked like she was trying so smile. The woman leaned over to look at her too. She lowered her head and then stood back up. Pushing her hand off of Annabelle’s. She smiled in my direction, “Looks like she has been in good hands.” she said walking up towards me. “You still have twenty minutes I,” said to her.

She walked ed me without saying a word. She lingered at the door frame for another 30 seconds, running her fingers along its side, as I did. She took one last look back before exiting. I put Annabelle’s clipboard back in the slot at the end of the bed and trotted back up to her to in the hallway. I quietly escorted her back into the elevator and to the reception desk. I wanted to scream and shout at her. I wanted to let her know that I thought she was being terrible and unloving. But I knew that as a staff member and as a caregiver, I had no choice but to give her my respects. She walked out of the elevator ahead of me and towards the desk, Harold was talking to my replacement at the reception desk. Barely any time had ed. She walked right up to the desk, quietly and aptly took the clipboard from the desk and turned to walk ed me again. “Thank you,” she whispered in my ear as she ed me on her way out. I turned around, good thing she could only go down, I would have had to unlock the floor going back to Annabelle. I could finally feel my pulse beginning to drop. I walked back up towards Harold to see him smiling at me. He tapped the desk twice before walking back towards his office, I relieved my colleague and returned to my post to resume my ordinary rather uneventful shift. At least that is what I would tell myself.

Chapter 32

Saturday, today is Hashtag Relationship Goals Day. I am not kidding, that is how I typed it out in my phone calendar. I am actually going to take Rachel on a real date! I felt happy, but nervous. If you think about it, I had been taking Rachel out on dates for the last three months. Although, I figured it would not be very different. We would probably be doing very similar things that I did with her while I was volunteering to help her out. But now I did not have the guise being a volunteer, or I am Rachel’s Helper , it’s I am Rachel’s Friend. I am spending time with a friend, rather than volunteering my time for the Independent Living Centre. I would not let myself call her my girlfriend , it just felt too strange still. Harold would definitely not be pleased if he knew I had moved from helping my client to dating my client and no longer volunteering at the centre. He set me up with this this place to begin with. He wanted me to have the new lease on life. I took the bus Saturday just around noon to see Rachel at the Independent Living Centre as per usual. Not being a volunteer anymore meant that I would probably have to pay for the date all by myself rather than Eric or Charmaine giving me money from Rachel’s . Maybe Eric would give her some petty cash for the week that she could use. Pretending to be her friend as a volunteer was easier, at least then the Centre had my back. Now I had to be on my best behaviour and do everything myself. It felt strange to not be getting advice from Charmaine on how to spend time with Rachel. I was just going to spend time with Rachel. I arrived at the Independent Living Centre and walked ed the main office towards the recreation room; no one was sitting there today. I walked upstairs and headed towards Rachel’s apartment. I could feel myself walking slower than usual. I got to the hallway of her floor and almost wanted to turn back. I had to let go of my expectations, and my fears. I am spending time with a friend, I said to myself. I knocked on the door and Rachel swung it open so fast that I nearly fell forward. I caught myself and looked up towards her. It was past twelve on a Saturday and she was wearing short lounge shorts and a tank-top. I told her I was coming right? I told her we were going to go out right? Maybe I just caught her off guard. I could wait. “Rachel, how are you?” I could feel my face blushing and my heartbeat picking up.

She did not say anything, she just took my arm and started tugging me. We walked ed her kitchen, which had some dirty dishes in it, ed her book shelves. She sat herself down on the edge of her bed and pulled me in as she laid herself down. Where did she get this from? I really wanted to like this side of her. She laid me down on the bed, turned herself sideways, placed her hand on my heart and looked me right in the eyes. I took one look at her. She was so cute. Charmaine would kill me! What she does not know will not hurt her! I shut my eyes and forced myself up off the bed and stood up in front of her. I stood up so quickly that I felt dizzy and the room was spinning a little. I turned around to look at her. She had pulled her feet up onto the bed, sat herself up straight and brought her knees up to her face. She turned her face away from me. “Rach...” I said. “Jesse doesn’t like me,” she said. I just smiled. She looked so cute when she pouted. But at that moment, she could have ed for 14-15. “Rachel.” I scratched the back of my head nervously and sat myself down beside her on the bed. “Charmaine...” was this really about Charmaine, or was it really about me? “I kind of promised Charmaine that I wouldn’t do anything like that until we knew more about whether you were going to be able live in on your own or if you were going to live in a group home or something...” Wow, that was a run-on sentence! “I thought you liked me,” she said. “I do,” yeah, I really do, “but Charmaine just didn’t want you to get hurt if it turned out that you were going to be living in a place with more supervision and potentially not allowed to see me...” I said. “Do you understand?” It occurred to me. How much did she know about her own situation? She nodded. “She also doesn’t know how you are going to behave regarding being in an adult relationship,” I said. “Adult relationship?”

“Well... I think the important thing is for us to spend time together and figure our what we want. From both each other and in life. Rachel? What do you want out of your time here?” I asked her. She looked away from me again, “Maybe I could get an apartment in community housing,” she said. “I think that is what Eric is working on. On a wait-list,” she said. “See my disability worker once a week. Have a few friends.” I let myself smile, “That’s good.” “Eric wants me to work on a few things for when I can move out.” “And you are doing really well, and I still want to be able to help you. But... I want to as your friend and not just as a volunteer here,” I said. “My friend?” she asked. “Yeah,” I said. “Rayanne, a lawyer came over this week. She spoke to me and I told her I would write my deposition for my mom and what happened to Annabelle and me...” she said. “What happened to Annabelle and you?” “If I can testify against my mom, it may help my case for living on my own and having more control over my life,” she said. “Throw her out as my guardian. I know you are scared.” “Did Rayanne tell you that?” I asked. “Rayanne and Eric,” she answered. I was almost hopeful that that wasn’t one big string of echolalia. Guess it was, or partly. “Rachel,” should I really tell her this one? “Your mom came over to the centre.” “My mom came over to the centre?” she said. I turned slightly and put my arm around her. “She went to see Annabelle. She

hadn’t seen her since Annabelle was dropped off at the centre,” I explained. “She went to see Annabelle?” she asked. Echolalia, or a question? “I think she knows about Annabelle’s case and that she is likely going to be accused...” I stopped. Could I trigger her by saying this? “of hurting Annabelle and you...I think she may be feeling remorseful.” I said to her. I actually did not have the proper time to process either. “If I give my deposition everyone will know.” “Yes... but whatever it is, it will help you to move forward and confront what happened. Whatever happened...” “Whatever happened...” she said. “Well, only you know what happened. Only you can give your side of the story. You may be the only person who can properly speak for Annabelle...” “That’s why Rayanne wants me to give my deposition...” she said. “Yes, and I you all the way.” “Even if I can’t...” “Even if you can’t,” I took my other arm and wrapped it around her in embrace. I held her like that for about thirty seconds. “Go out?” she said to me finally. I let go of her and moved back slightly, “you want to go out?” I asked her. “That’s good. I came here to spend time with you. Let’s go out!” “Cat-Cafe?” she said. “Okay... Let’s go to the cat-cafe? Is there something that you need?” I asked. She looked away from me. “Should put on some clothes!” she said with a giggle. Rachel put on a pair of jeans (I stood on the other side of the room while she changed behind the bookshelves), grabbed her purse and phone, and we walked

out to get the bus to the cat-cafe. The place was only a few stops away on the bus. Rachel sat very quietly on the bus. She was always really good with using public transit. Plan the route ahead of time, give your ticket or tap your . Anything that did not require you to talk to someone, she seemed to just do it on autopilot. We got to the place. The cafe was divided into two separate rooms. The first room when you walk in was where people could sit and buy food and drinks. The other room was where the cats were housed and that was closed off. The cat room had a limited capacity and was monitored by the staff. We walked in and up to the main counter. On the other side was a young woman in an apron wearing glasses. “Hello,” she said to us. I looked over to Rachel. Never miss an opportunity, I thought. “Rachel...” I said. I put my hand on her back and gave her a slight push. She approached the counter and said, “Cat.... Cat Cafe, coffee!” I looked at the woman behind the counter and just smiled. “Are you together?” she asked Rachel. Rachel paused and nodded, “together...” she said. “So you want to get a coffee and a ticket for the kitty room?” she asked slowly. I could tell that she was trying to be polite and understanding. “Hot chocolate!” Rachel said. I watched her look ed Rachel and then at me again. I nodded. “Okay, so are you paying for yourself or for the two of you?” Rachel turned her head to look at me, “for myself or for the two of you?” she said to me.

“I can pay for myself...” I said. “Do you want to pay for yourself Rachel?” I asked. She nodded and turned back. “Hot chocolate and kitty room. For myself!” she said. That’s great, good job! She reached into her purse to pull out some money and gave it to the cashier. The woman behind the counter looked over at me. Rachel took her drink and stepped to the side. “Coffee, cream, sugar and a kitty !” I said. She smiled and wrote me up. We walked into the kitty-room (as it was called) and sat down on the cushions with our drinks on the tables. There was a sign that said... “Please refrain from feeding cats human food!” Rachel read it out-loud. There looked to be eight other people in the room with us. There were six cats in our immediate area with a few other cats scattered throughout the room. Two were sitting on the windowsill away from us. There were three kittens on the floor closest to us and three older-looking cats sitting in various places. The three kittens all looked to be about the same age: two black ones and one tortoise-shell-coloured kitten. Two grey tabbies and one all grey cat that looked blue in the light. I thought that one was the prettiest! Rachel immediate went for and started playing with the kittens. She picked up a piece of string and started running around on the carpet and letting the kittens chase her. I just sat and watched while petting the older grey cat that sat down beside me. Rachel sat herself down and let the kittens jump on her and lick her face. You could tell that she was having a really great time. I laughed and sat back.

Kittens are cute. But I tended to like the older, quieter cats. They did not seem to be getting as much attention. They just wanted to sit near me and be loved. Another young person walked over to where Rachel was sitting. It was a young boy. I looked over to see two adults sitting at a table looking over at him. He walked up to Rachel who was sitting with the kittens and sat down next to her. I could feel my right hand tense up a little. She looked at him and handed him the black kitten that was in her lap. He took it and sat down beside her. He let the kitten sit in his lap while petting it. I just watched from afar. A woman came over to me and sat next to me. “It’s really nice...” she said to me, “I brought him here because we were thinking of getting a cat for him... Are you thinking of getting a cat?” she asked me. Were we? Did Rachel want a cat? I think Rachel would really love to have a cat! “Maybe...” I said to her. “I... don’t know. We just thought this would be a nice place to go on a date!” She put her hand on the cat beside me. “Sometimes it’s nice to come here and just unwind and play with the cats!” she said. “Yeah, take some of the stress off of adult life!” I said. I watched Rachel put the cats down and stand up. She walked over to the door and left the kitty room. Maybe she was just going to the washroom... I gave the cat a scratch. “It’s nice for people who can’t necessarily have a cat. it’s also good to come here and get to know the cats before getting one...” I said. “This way, the cats are fixed and properly trained... I mean somewhat...” I said. She stood up and walked over to the child over where Rachel was sitting. I leaned back and just smiled. It was really nice to be here and be with the cats. They just seemed to relax me. The cat rubbed its head against my hand. Its fur was really soft. A few minutes later, Rachel came running back in and sat down on the opposite side of me. “Hey... Rach,” I said. “Do you think you would want a cat?”

“No pets at the centre. Except service animals of course. Lauri gets a special room for her and Iris,” she said. “I mean, if you lived on your own. Or if we lived together... Would you want a cat?” I asked. She looked away from me and thought for a moment. “I can just go to the catcafe!” she said. “Think about it later.” “You’ll think about it later?” I asked. “One thing at a time...” she said. “Okay, so... do you want to tell me something?” I asked. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. It had a hand-drawn picture of a cat on it. I looked closer. The card had a web-link on it and it read:Volunteer Application. “ You want to volunteer here?” I asked. She nodded. I smiled and stood up, “That’s great!” I said. “I think you should talk to Eric about it. But that is great!” I opened my arms, but she closed herself in and shook her head. I dropped my arms. “That’s great Rachel.” She just sat there and nodded. “You know, how about we finish up our time here and we can go for a walk before we go back home?” I said to her. I could tell that she was a little nervous. She nodded, “Let’s go for a walk together, sounds good!” l let myself relax, today was a good day!

Chapter 33

Rachel had asked me if I could come to the centre to spend some time with her and Lauri on the Wednesday, and I obliged. What could she want us to do together? I thought as I walked into the centre and arrived in the recreation room. Did she want us to go out with the dog again? Did her volunteer cancel again? I rolled my eyes at that thought. Rachel should just become Lauri's volunteer at this rate. All she wants is to spend time with that darn dog! Forget a cat, maybe I should get Rachel a dog, or maybe a bunny. She would love a bunny! Stick a parrot on her shoulder, they would have the most amazing conversations! I walked into the recreation room to see Rachel sitting on one of the sofas with Lauri. Iris was nowhere to be seen. I watched Rachel look up at me as I walked by. “Jesse!” she said to me as she leapt off the couch and walked over to me. “Yes, hi Rachel,” I said, “How are you today?” She didn’t say anything and just bounced slightly on her feet from heel to toe and back. Rachel was wearing jeans with a magenta coloured tank top. She already had her purse around her shoulder. I looked ed her and over at Lauri still sitting on the couch with headphones in her ears. “How’s Lauri doing?” I asked. “Lauri is doing fine,” said Lauri without even lifting her head. She took out her headphones. “Lauri tell him, Lauri tell him!” said Rachel excitedly. “Tell me what?” I asked. “The foundation I got my guide-dog from gave me a gift-certificate to a doggydaycare spa near here. My volunteer offered to take Iris there today and take her

for a walk after. And Rachel offered to to take me sited-guiding to the mall to go shopping and we were wondering if you could tag along?” Sited guide? “Sure?” I said questionably. Great, I am going to take two women shopping today. They are probably going to make me carry all their clothes while they wander around the mall! What am I, their gay man-servant? “Sounds like fun,” I said to them. What am I? Your gay man servant? “So, Lauri,” I turned in her direction. Where do you want to go?” I asked. “How does this work?” What am I getting myself into? “So, I have my cane”. She waved a folded up cane in the air. “I am going to hold Rachel’s arm. We’ll go to the Mall, shop around, maybe get something to eat and then we will go pick up Iris.” They absolutely want me to be their gay man servant. I am not even gay! “Would you like me to compliment you on your outfits while you are at it too? Rachel you better try on something cute as well you know... Girls, give me a good old fashion show.” I flicked my wrist and raised the pitch of my voice towards the end. Rachel laughed. This could be a great opportunity to watch Rachel in action, I thought. Give her a task, see how she follows through. No meltdowns please! “Absolutely!” I heard Lauri say. “You two are going to be my sited servants for the day!” She said with a chuckle, “be a good little servant and I just might get us all lunch!” That just got a little too scary; at least she has a sense of humour. “Rachel!” said Lauri. She turned around and skipped her way back to Lauri. I watched Rachel out her forearm in an angled position. “Ready to go?” she asked. Lauri put her stuff away before standing up and reaching for Rachel’s arm. She

slapped it gently before grabbing it. It was amazing to watch her. They walked back over to me. “Shall we go?” I said raising my arms into the air with a smile. We got to the Mall without much of a hitch. Lauri gave Rachel her bus to scan as we went in and the three of us sat up front for good measure. No one paid any attention to us. The mall was not particularly crowded for our part. I could tell people were staring at us. They were staring at Lauri holding onto Rachel’s shoulder. One had to wonder were they staring because they were two young women of clearly different ethnic backgrounds walking in embrace or did they assume something more to it? We walked into a women’s clothing store and began to look around. “So, what...” Rachel paused. “What are you looking for Lauri?” “I am looking for some tops, shorts and maybe a dress!” she answered. I watched Rachel guide her over to an area with a lot of short-sleeved shirts on racks. Lauri started touching and feeling each shirt with her free hand. “You can let go now!” she said to Rachel. “Letting go now!” she said. Way to use effective echolalia Rachel, I thought. She ran her fingers over each shirt. “Is this cute?” I heard her ask Rachel. She pulled a shirt off the rack to show her. “Yes!” she said. “What colour is it?” she asked. “Red, green stripes?” she answered. Someone had to tell her what colour it was, or was not. “Jesse?” I heard her say. For my part, I tried to at least look half interested in whatever they had in the

men’s section of the store. Lots of graphic tees, collared shirts and jeans. I hadn’t taken myself shopping in a while. I was one of those guys who could get away with wearing almost the same outfit everyday. Khakis and a black shirt; jeans and a green shirt... I looked over towards Lauri and Rachel. The shirt seemed fine, a simple red t-shirt with green stripes on the sleeves, reminiscent of a sports jersey. “How about you put an outfit together and try it on...” I said. It’s what were here for after all anyway. I couldn’t tell her if it was cute or not. “White skirt, just above the knee!” Rachel said. She grabbed a skirt and held it out for Lauri. “You want me to try that on?” Lauri turned her head in the direction of Rachel’s voice. “Try it on!” she said. “Okay, is there a medium?” Rachel pulled out another skirt and ed it to Lauri. She took it. “Anything else before we go into the change-room?” she asked. I decided to sit myself down on one of the chairs next to the change-rooms and wait. Rachel and Lauri walked over, both carrying five hangers worth of clothes in their free hands. They looked diva ready. “Wait!” said Rachel. She stepped in front of Lauri and took three of the five hangers she was carrying and set the clothes down on my lap. She did not even ask me, it was as if I was not even there. For her part, she set down some of the clothes she had picked out over top of Lauri’s and they each took one outfit into the change-room. The change-rooms were right in front of us, so Lauri could just walk straight in with little assistance. As soon as they were out of my sight, I crossed my arms and let out a sigh. I was not impressed. I looked down at my lap to see what clothes Rachel had thrown there. There was a black fuzzy crop top, a long shirt and a pair of tight jeans. Guess I am just not used to going shopping with girls... Lauri came out first wearing a white knee-length skirt and the red sports top. She turned to face me. “How do I look?” she asked me.

I thought she looked nice, it was very casual. The white contrasted nicely against her darker toned skin as well as with her shirt. Lauri lifted her arms up and made a 360 degree twirl. Her braids lifted straight in the air and then fell as she stopped. I heard the beads clink together. “Very nice!” I said. Rachel came out in Capri-length jean pants with a loose long blue tank-top that tied up on the shoulders. She looked very cute and summery. Her hair fell down ed her shoulders. “Nice, very... sweet.” I said, at a loss for words. Lauri next came out in the same white skirt, but this time a long-sleeved cropped top that looked like it was made of a soft material that was fuzzy to the touch. It showed off her belly slightly. “I really like the feel of this shirt!” she said. She would. “Yea, it looks really soft.” She inched her way towards me and held her hand out. It was about 10 degrees off from where I was sitting. I reached out my hand, “to your right!” I said. She moved her arm slightly so that I could reach out and grab it. She moved my hand across her shirt; it was very soft, almost like Kashmir. “That is soft!” “This top, or the other one?” “I... I like both.” Rachel came out with a pink loose long tank top on instead. I thought the pink looked much cuter. She immediately bent herself over me and started sorting through the clothes that were on my lap. The neck of the top hung down slightly and I could see her cleavage. I felt mildly embarrassed. Rachel did not seem to mind. She grabbed a pair of blue skinny-jeans, stood back up and held them against Lauri’s waste. “These ones next?” Lauri said. Rachel nodded.

Lauri took them and went back into the change-room. “Pink or blue?” Rachel asked me, standing in front of me in the outfit. “I like the pink!” I always thought she looked cute in pink. “What do you like?” I asked. “I like the pink, and the blue...” she said. “What about green?” I had a green shirt on my lap. It was a slightly different style. Still flowy but a bit shorter with longer sleeves. It was a bright almost lime green. “I don’t think so!” I said. “If you don’t have the money for both, I can get you a top!” I said. “You buy the pink!” she said. “I buy the pink one!” I said back to her. “You can buy whichever you want else...” Lauri came back out in the jeans and the black shirt. The jeans fit, but the outfit just was not a match. “Rachel?” Lauri said. Rachel grabbed the lime-green shirt that was still sitting on my lap and gave it to her. She pressed it against her torso. “You want me to try this one on?” Lauri asked. “Looks better with the jeans,” she replied. Lauri and Rachel looked to be about the same size, although Lauri was a little taller. “Okay,” Lauri said with a smile, taking the top back into the room. To Rachel’s credit, the shirt’s long loose-fitted shirt was a better look for the skinny jeans. The shirt fell just below Lauri’s butt, it could and just ed her fingertips. It could for a mini-dress. “Much better!” said Rachel. We moved to the check out. Lauri got the white skirt with the black crop top and the skinny-jeans with the green shirt. Rachel settled for the Capri-jeans and blue

top. I agreed to buy her the pink one. I decided that I could use some new socks for my part. To their credit, we left the store with me carrying their bags, like a man servant! We headed towards the mall food-court. We ed by a store with lots of pretty sundresses in the windows and on the racks in the front. It was the season after all. Rachel took a look at the dress and then halted with Lauri in tow. “Woe!” Lauri said. I watched her body jerk as Rachel stopped. “Do you see something you like?” she asked. She let go of Lauri, “wait here.” Lauri just stood there with her mouth open. I looked over to the other side. There was a bench a few steps away in front of the store. I walked over to the bench, set the bags down and walked back to Lauri. I set my hand on her shoulder. “How about we take a seat and let Rachel go into the store?” I said to her. I looked over at Rachel. “Are you going to be okay on your own?” I asked Rachel. She said nothing and just kept walking. “We are right out here, just holler,” I said. “Guess she had some extra money after all.” We sat down on the bench and waited while Rachel went into the store. I ittedly felt anxious for her. “I am sorry, sometimes Rachel gets a little excited and distracted. Just part of her character...” I said. “That’s okay,” said Lauri, “Thanks for doing this.” “Oh...” I was so focused on Rachel, didn’t know what to say. “I don’t get to do this that often. Sometimes it’s nice to not have to take a dog with me everywhere. Sometimes the stores don’t like it when I bring Iris in,” she said. I bent over and looked at her. She really was a stunning woman, more elegant, contrasted to Rachel’s cute look. “I’m sorry?” “Sometimes it’s nice to have someone to help you out.”

“Happy to oblige!” I said. “I am sorry about the Iris thing. I thought that they could not deny you.” “Legally,” they said, “sure doesn’t stop them from making a fuss about it.” “I... I see.” “And you know, a dog cannot tell me if something actually looks good on me!” I smiled, “You can’t train her to bark twice if you look cute?” She laughed, “if I could, I would. Beats holding my phone up to everything too.” She took her phone out and showed me the Be My Eyes App. You could hold it up to something and it would tell you the colour and roughly what you were looking at. “Technology truly is an amazing thing!” I said. “It also reads things for me if I am getting groceries...” “Clever!” What do you know, behind that sarcastic demeanour is an actual person. Rachel came back out holding a large plastic bag with a smile on her face. “What did you get?” I asked. “It’s a surprise!” she said. “Well, in that case, where to next?” Lauri asked. “Food court?” said Rachel. Keeping with her promise, Lauri got us all food at the food court with the one caveat that it was at the same place and on one bill. We each got the standard burgers, fries and drinks. Rachel sat next to me on the chairs and Lauri sat across from us with on the bench with the bags on her side. I looked over at Rachel eating a burger. Now was a good a time as any to work on Rachel’s conversational skills. “So Lauri? What kind of work do you want to do?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, “I kind of want to help people and help the blind community. My worker thinks I should work on opening a blind-friendly store... Braille tags, maybe a motion sensing camera telling people what they are holding. Maybe a able companion app. Maybe I will sell braille magazines” she said. “The blind store!” I heard Rachel say. “Blinds to go! Blind Depot! The blind shack! The Blind Spot!” she put down her burger. Rachel giggled at the names. I wasn’t sure if she was suggesting actual names or making puns off of being blind and window-blinds. “Well, if that works, you should definitely hire Rachel!” I said. “Hire Rachel!” she said back to me. Lauri laughed, “what do you think you would like to do Rachel?” Lauri asked. “I don’t know. I want to go to school and study,” she said. “Yeah,” I said, “Rachel loves to read. She had mountains of books in her room. Definitely more books than clothes, or anything else!” “That’s amazing!” Lauri said. “Jesse?” said Rachel. “What?” I asked. “Keep working at hospital?” she asked. It wasn’t a hospital, but I knew what she meant. “Well, I don’t know. I just want to help people!” I said. “Work at the Independent Living Centre!” she said. Lauri laughed, “Yeah, you would be great!” “I don’t know about that one!” I laughed. Me working at the Independent Living Centre... The two girls giggled.

“So Rachel...” I asked, “who do you like better. Lauri or Iris?” Lauri covered her mouth and laughed, “That’s a good one. She loves that dog!” “Lauri or Iris?” she said and then paused. “No Lauri, no Iris, no Iris, no Lauri!” she said. I looked at her dumbfounded. “Excuse me?” “I think she means,” said Lauri. “That if it wasn’t for Iris, we would not have become friends and if it weren’t for me, she would never have met Iris. She likes us both, just differently. You cannot have one without the other.” Lauri explain. Rachel closed her eyes and smiled, “yep!” she said. I smiled. I felt content with the answer. Yes, they made me their gay man servant, bit it wasn’t that bad. I got to help Lauri and Rachel got to spend time with her two favourite people. As far as I was concerned, mission accomplished, great day. I dropped Rachel and Lauri off at the Independent Living Centre and made my way home. When I got home, I checked my email. There was an email from Rayanne, that was carbon-copied to Harold, Charmaine, Eric and Rachel. The email was titled: Mediation Session Date. The email read: Mediation Session regarding Annabelle’s case to be held at the courthouse. The session was dated for the Tuesday after the one coming. I sat back in my chair and rubbed my hand over my face. This was happening.

Chapter 34

With just over a week to go before Rachel’s case date (whatever Rayanne called it), I decided to take her to the Extended Care Facility to spend time with Annabelle on an off day. I told Rachel to meet me at the facility. It was more because I wanted to see if she could get herself there as opposed to me meeting her at her apartment. I didn’t want to risk Rachel attempting to put the moves on me again. I felt a little devious doing it. I made sure to get there at least half an hour earlier than I said for her to come so that I could be there waiting for her. If I set myself up to get there half an hour early, even if Rachel was early, I would still likely be there first. I sat in the reception area waiting for her. Rachel came on time as predicted. She was wearing her regular street clothes with a small back-pack on her person. She caught me off guard because she came in with large headphones on her head. She took them off and wore them around her neck as she approached me. “Jesse!” she said. I stood up and walked towards her. “So Rachel,” I said. She was looking up at me with a smile on her face; she looked very eager. “I spoke to Harold a few days ago, and arranged with one of the nurses for us to visit Annabelle and spend some time with her.” “How much time?” I looked at my watch and then at the clock on the wall, “about an hour,” I said. “Okay.” “Is there something you would like to do?” “Take Annabelle for a walk?” “Yes, we can take Annabelle for a walk,” I responded. A young female nurse worker in lilac-coloured scrubs came over to us. “Are you Jesse?” she asked me.

I stood up and took her hand. She looked over at Rachel. “That’s Rachel, she is... a friend of mine and wanted to see Annabelle.” It was not in Annabelle’s records that she had a sister or that Rachel was in fact her. It was best not to say anything about it. “A friend, wants to see Annabelle?” she said back to me. I was really hoping that she would just go along with it. “It’s all cleared by Harold already,” I assured her. “Can’t argue with that one... I guess.” She led us up to Annabelle’s room. As we approached her room she asked us, “So what would you like to do with Annabelle?” she asked. “Well, is there anything going on here today?” I asked. “We have a volunteer violinist in the 3rd floor recreation room,” she said. Occasionally, we got choirs and amateur musicians to come and play for the residents to give them some interaction and enjoyment. Sometimes the nurses would wheel the residents to see them. I looked back at Rachel, “What do you think?” She stretched out her right arm supine in front of her making a fist with her right. Placed her left hand orthogonal to her right arm made a back and forth motion with her left hand across her chest as though she was playing a violin. “I think Rachel likes that idea!” I said. We ed by two nurses on our way to Annabelle’s room. Our escort approached them and started talking. When she was finished, she turned back towards us and said, “You guys wait here, we are going to get Annabelle into her wheelchair.” We walked about three feet behind them as we approached her room. They went in ahead of us as we waited. It was strange to be on the other end, I half expected myself to be the one assisting in lifting Annabelle into the chair. They came out a

few minutes later. “She is ready to go. She had her lunch earlier, she was changed not too long ago and her breathing is fine. She shouldn’t need assistance for the next hour or so.” I watched the worker place a belt with a button around Annabelle’s waste before securing her seat belt in the chair. If anything goes wrong, this should work within 100 m of the building. If you are out and something happens either call the centre’s emergency number or 9-1-1.” she said to me pointing at the button now in the middle of Annabelle’s stomach. It was standard procedure, it was that or have someone like a nurse follow us around for the entire visit. I was not opposed to the idea. I took Annabelle by the wheelchair handles and followed the worker into the elevator and into the common room where the musician was playing. There were already at least ten other patients in there. Some were also in wheelchairs while others were sitting on actual chairs. A few of them were also being escorted by staff in scrubs. A circle was formed around her. She had long-blond hair and a long flowing dress with a floral print all over it. She looked to be maybe only a few years older than me. I moved slowly into the recreation room to the circle. I looked back to see Rachel grabbing the ends of her headphones with her hands. She squeezed the soft part around the ear-parts. “If you want to wear them, it’s okay, but you might not be able to hear the music properly. She took her headphones off from around her neck and gave them to me. My eyes went wide as I took them and wrapped them around my arm. She quietly followed me into the room. Once we made our way into the circle, our escort walked away and left the room. “I’ll just be on the floor,” she said to me. I slouched slightly on Annabelle’s chair and just listened to the music. Rachel came up beside me and placed her hand on the handle of Annabelle’s chair. I watched her sway back and forth. A few minutes in, the music began to pick up and the musician began to dance in a circle as she played. Rachel let go of the chair and went over to dance with her. She raised her arms and twirled and spun with the music. I just started clapping. Those in the room that could clap started doing so as well. I looked down to see a giant gaping smile on Annabelle’s face. It actually seemed to help her. That was Rachel. The show ended and people started exiting the room. Eventually, we had the room to ourselves. Rachel had stopped dancing and was standing in front of Annabelle. “How about I get a quick picture of the two of you and we can go for

a walk!” I said to her. “Picture...” Rachel paused and parsed her lips. “Picture of the two of us together please.” I could actually tell that she was stopping herself from simply repeating the exact phrase back to me. “Great,” I said while reaching for my phone. Rachel came up towards me behind Annabelle and reached out for the back handles of the chair. I let myself take a step back so that Rachel could get into the proper position. She took the chair, hopped up and pressed her weight against the chair before walking Annabelle towards the wall. She turned around and knelt down beside the wheelchair, making sure not to let go of it at all. I took the picture and showed it to them. She looked really cute. It turned out well. “All three of us!” Rachel said as I showed her the picture. “Uh...” I said. “How about I go find someone.” I said to her. She waited by Annabelle while I left the room. I came back in with one of the workers in scrubs and handed her my phone. We stood on either side of Annabelle as she took a picture. She gave me back my phone and smiled. “You guys are going great,” she said. “Can you print it out?” Rachel asked. I looked at it again, it did come out looking great. “Yea, once I get to a photo place or something...” I said. “Anything else you would like to do Rachel?” I asked. “Go for a walk?” she said. I looked at my watch. “We have about twenty minutes left. We could go for a short one.” I said. She nodded and jumped up and down slightly. We took Annabelle into the elevator, through the lobby and out of the centre. We turned to walk along the sidewalk. I pushed the chair while Rachel walked beside her with her hand on the armrest. She skipped slightly as we walk. Pushing a wheelchair while walking just outside of the centre felt nostalgic.

Strangely enough I missed it. “So, since Dad ed away,” I heard Rachel start talking... Was she trying to talk to Annabelle? “Since Dad ed away,” she continued. “I got to go live at the Independent Living Centre, leaving mom all alone. Mom must be happy! I made some new friends at the centre. I went to the Mall with Lauri. Lauri is blind, she has a dog named Iris. Iris because she is her eyes. Iris is a guide-dog that helps Lauri go to places and move around. Guide-Dogs have to go to a special school, sometimes for two whole years to be trained. I really like Iris. I really like spending time with Lauri.” She looked back at me. “That’s Jesse,” she said. “He doesn’t want to talk to you because you don’t talk back. He doesn’t think you would understand. Or that he needs to talk to someone.” “Hey wait!” I said. “Jesse said that that I can move in with him,” she continued. “Maybe someday. Jesse took me to the cat-cafe, I like cats too! Maybe I can get a cat, a real one, not like fluffy the therapy kitty!” She looked up back at me, “If it wasn’t for Jesse,” she said. “I never would have found you again. I hope you are happy here. All the staff treat you well!” I smiled, I could tell that Rachel really loved her sister. We made our way up to the nearest traffic light before turning around and getting back to the centre. We walked Annabelle back through the lobby, up the elevator and to the room. Rachel and I stood back as we watched the nurses put her back in her bed and tie up her straps. “Is there anything else you want to say to Annabelle?” I asked her. “Jesse got us a Lawyer. Rayanne is really nice. We have a mediation session coming up in a few days. Rayanne is going to help me tell my story so that we can help you. No one will hurt you again!” she said. My mouth hung open. This whole time, I had almost forgotten about her case. Hearing that made me suddenly less nervous for the mediation session. Whatever the outcome was going to be, I knew this was the right step for Rachel and for Annabelle.

Chapter 35

Today was the date of the tribunal at the courthouse. Sara, Adrienne and I had carefully placed Annabelle in her wheelchair and took her out to the Van. She wasn’t particularly heavy, just limp and generally uncooperative. The Extended Care Centre has access to specially accessible vans to transport residents when needed. The van came equipped with wheelchair lifts and special locks to keep the chair in place. “Did you ever think you would be doing this within your career?” Sara asked me as we wheeled her onto the lift in the back of the van. “What, taking a disabled person to a court-case regarding a case of abuse? That I would be taking a stand on no less? Not in my career. I thought I would be just spoon feeding people, changing adult diapers, and giving sponge-baths until I retired,” I said sarcastically. “Yeah, it has been a rough one...” Sara moved over to press the button for the chair-lift. The lift cranked and made a noise like an old-fashioned wheelchair lift. “They really need to update their technology don’t they?” I smirked. The lift lifted Annabelle up and into the van. “Yea, transporting our defendant in a modified cargo-van that the centre outfitted itself!” Adrienne walked up from behind us and climbed up into the back of the car to keep an eye on Annabelle. She sat down in the only remaining seat in the back of the van facing Annabelle. She gave us the thumbs up once Annabelle and herself were secured inside. Sara and I shut the two back doors after them. As Sara and Adrienne were escorting Annabelle in addition to speaking on her behalf if needed, they were being paid by their job for their time; I was not being payed however; they just offered me a ride to save me the effort. “How’s Rachel been doing?” Sara asked. “Good,” I said scratching the back of my head. “I think Charmaine and Eric are

taking her. She is going to give her deposition. With any luck, it will be enough to make a clear case in her favour. In our favour! I really think she can do it. I took her to see Annabelle the other day, she was so good!” I was elated. “Did she tell you what she was going to say?” Sara asked as we started walking to the opposite sides of the front of the truck. “Not at all,” I said. “If she wanted to tell me, she would.” “So all this work and we still don’t know what happened to Annabelle or Rachel or how any of this checks out?” Or what’s going to happen to Rachel’s mom. “I decided to trust Rachel,” I told her. “If we are going to find out, we will find out.” “Did not think you were the religious type,” she said, raising her voice slightly so that I could hear her across the car. I didn’t think it was much of a religious sentiment; que sera sera. Radical acceptance. “Have you thought about what happens if Rachel doesn’t win her case? What if after all this, Rachel just ends up being placed in another centre?” I hadn’t given it much thought. I came upon the door and slipped my hand under the handle to open it up. I opened the door to see Sara climbing into the driver’s side. “Well, I guess it would be time for me to move on,” I said. I sat in the seat and bowed my head down. Sara climbed in on the driver’s side after me. I felt Sara pat me on the shoulder, “I know you don’t mean that.” “We will cross that when we get there,” I shook my head. “I can’t not root for her, and I am going to until I can’t anymore!” I said. “Well, then we got to go and root for her now!” I felt Sara release her hand from me. She put the key in the ignition. I heard the engine start to rev up. “Jesse, did you ever think that Rachel’s mom tried to make Rachel out to be less capable than she is?” Sara asked.

“What do you mean?” Of course I suspected it. “This whole thing about Rachel not knowing how to manage her bank and not having access to her own money except for extremely controlled handouts of cash sounds like the mother is purposefully stunting her.” “Why would anyone do that?” “Control? Make sure she doesn’t up and leave... Maybe she wants to spend her money. Maybe she doesn’t believe Rachel can do it.” Would her mother actually do that? “Rachel is amazing. Maybe her mother just has to see it,” I said trying to brush off Sara’s comment. I did not feel like it was her business anyway. “If she can’t see it now, I doubt that she ever will.” I knew that Rachel was much more independent and smarter than her records made her out to be. “So how are things on your end?” I asked her. “The situation with your brother?” “Great,” she said with a smile pulling away from the centre’s parking lot. “My parents, along with Nathan’s disability worker decided that Nathan can get his own apartment by next year as long as he has some s. So, my parents will be checking up on him one day a week and I will be checking on him two days out of the week to see if he needs anything or if there is anything I can help him with. We will see how it goes from there. They are even asking if he can get a place in my complex, but I think that its out of our price range.” “So, everyone is doing well,” I said awkwardly. Sara just nodded. “I guess it gives both of us our own space while still helping him. Still going to have to explain this to anyone who comes into my life!” she said with a laugh. I smiled, “Sure he will make a great ass-hole barometer.” “My what?”

“You know, any guy who is going to work out has to be okay with you being in your brother’s life like this!” What would Charmaine say? “I guess that’s true, since this could be how it is, for a while! Yep, guess I am turning Nathan into my ass-hole barometer. About time I got one anyway!” I imagined Sara posting a picture of her and her brother on her Instagram page or Twitter with a caption: My brother before guys! #DisabilityAwareness #DownsSyndrome! “Did your parents ever try to shelter or hinder your brother?” I asked her. “At first they did, but they eventually learned to let him learn to do things for himself.” We pulled into the courthouse after about half-an-hour’s driving. I had never been to the city’s courthouse before. We ed the building prior to turning into the parking lot. It was a large building with a rounded dome on top in the middle and many (many) stairs leading up into the doors. It felt like a challenge just to get into the place. Why did people decide this was a good way to build a courthouse? Was the climb supposed to be a metaphor for how hard you worked to win your case, or your bill? I didn’t want to walk up those concrete steps. “How are we going to get Annabelle up that?” I asked Sara as we turned into the parking lot. Sara parked the car. I watched her look around and scout out the parking lot from inside before getting out. “There has to be a wheelchair entrance somewhere,” she said opening the car door. “You know, Jesse, how about you go and wait for Rachel and the others out front, we will figure out what to do with Annabelle,” Sara suggested. I agreed and got out of the car. I gave Sara a wave before heading off. I walked back through the parking lot and around the building over to the steps. I plopped myself down on the second stair and rested my head in my hands waiting. Maybe ten minutes after I had sat down, I noticed a pair of feet in blue-green strappy sandals walking up towards me. The stopped right in front of me. The person lifted themselves onto their tip-toes once and then came back down. I slowly lifted my head. They were wearing a matching knee-length spaghettistrapped sundress that bloomed outward at bottom. Across her shoulder was the

strap of a small red satchel-bag. I looked up at the person’s face to see Rachel smiling at me. I felt my jaw drop before clapping my mouth over it. She obviously dressed herself today. “Rachel...” I said. There was pretty in pink, and now beautiful in blue. No, tenacious in teal; yes, that’s it! She would like that one! She twirled on the spot one full turn. Was that really something someone should be wearing to court? “You will definitely have all eyes on you!” I said to her. “Just don’t go out into sea looking like that. I’d lose you for sure!” She nodded. “How did you get here?” I asked, I looked down the sidewalk to see if Charmaine or Eric were anywhere in sight. They were not. “Bus, I wanted to show that I could come here on my own,” she replied. “You certainly did!” I agreed. She was certainly speaking less in echolalia. I stood up to meet her eyes, “so, you going to tell everyone the truth about what happened in you family?” I asked. You going to potentially put your mom behind bars? I wondered. She reached into her bag and pulled out a paper, “Deposition!” she said. “Rayanne helped me write my deposition. I want to make a difference for people,” she said. “That’s great,” I said, “but let’s put that away and hold off until you have to tell everyone.” I asked her, “are you ready to tell everyone what happened?” I took her free hand, “Did Rayanne or Eric tell you there are going to be lots of people there? You’re going to have to tell everyone your story!” She smiled, “Yes, I need to tell everyone my story, Annabelle’s story.” She looked up at me and met my eyes, “for Annabelle,” she said. I checked my watch, we were 15 minutes out. Charmaine and Eric came walking down the sidewalk from the parking lot. I let go of Rachel’s hand and slipped mine into my back pocket. They seemed to be dressed much more appropriately for the occasion. Eric in black pants and a light grey golf-shirt and Charmaine in long black dress pants and a purple flowing tunic. You would think Eric and I

shared a wardrobe. I looked towards them, “Hey,” I said. They smiled at me and returned the greeting. “So, no one helped Rachel pick out an outfit?” I asked. “I could have suggested something, but no matter what I suggested, she would have worn whatever she wanted,” said Eric. “I think she looks cute,” said Charmaine with a smile, “do you Jesse?” I blushed, was Charmaine still teasing me about this? At least it let me know that she still approved, somewhat. She did look very cute. She looked more like she was going to the beach or for a walk in the park rather than to a court session however. Maybe I could take her out somewhere where that dress would be more appropriate when this is all over. Success or not, I had to remind myself. Even if this did not go as planned, the fact that we got here was something to be celebrated. “Are we waiting for anyone else?” Charmaine asked. “Sara went ahead to find a wheelchair entrance,” I answered. “They may be at it all night!” said Charmaine with a shrug. I could almost hear her giving me a lecture on ableism telepathically. I started hearing footsteps behind me, I looked back to see Rachel already heading up the stairs. “Guess that’s our cue!” I said. We started walking up after her. We caught up with Rachel in the main entrance foyer; I had to catch my breath slightly. She actually seemed to know where she was going. Don’t stop her now: concentration, hyperfocus, task orientation, and determination. It was almost as if she was in a trance. I walked up to her but kept myself about one foot behind, Charmaine and Eric were just behind me. “Was this all her?” I turned my head to ask them.

Both of them just shrugged and gave me an awkward smile. Whether it was or not, none of us seemed to want to find out for the risk of throwing her off—just go with it! We followed Rachel across the hallway and down two flights of stares—just as we had finished walking up mind you. It felt like we had just walked down the same vertical distance that we had just walked up and had gotten no further. They must have tried to peg us a room that was flushed with the parking lot as much as possible. Seemed preferable to sticking Annabelle in an elevator along with two nurses and whoever happened to use it at the time, I thought. We got to the bottom of the stairs, I watched Rachel turn to the right and trot down the hallway. Rachel stopped just short of a door-frame about midway down the hall. The door was open; I looked ahead to see the letters B3 in the upper middle of the door but could not quite see inside from my angle. Rachel took a step back and turned around to look at me. She lowered her head and let her hair drop in front of her face. Without hesitation, I took a step towards her. she did not move. I reached out my left hand in front of her. Without lifting her head to look at me, she took it with her’s and gave it a squeeze. She tugged at me slightly as we walked into the room.

Chapter 36

The mediation room was a small room with a round table that looked to be able to sit twelve to fifteen people easily enough. There were also a few chairs placed off to the side behind the table in case. Rachel sat next to me with Charmaine, Eric and Rayanne, who was acting Lawyer for our side of the case, next to her. Rayanne sat with a stack of papers in a folder that looked like it was about to explode. On top of it were a few sheets of lined paper for notes. She had set out what looked to be the kind of recording device used to record university lectures. Next to Rayanne furthest from me while still on our side of the table was a tall slender middle-aged man (he looked to be about Harold’s age). He was wearing khaki pants and a light blue button-upped shirt with rolled up sleeves with brown leather dress-shoes. He sat slightly sideways on his chair facing my direction with left elbow on the desk and his right leg crossed over. I did not recognize him and was unaware of his role in this case. Harold sat to the other side of me with his hands folded in front of himself. Rayanne and Harold were already there when we had arrived. Katherine sat next to Harold. As a Nurse supervisor, Katherine had been the one overseeing Annabelle’s case within the care centre and was in direct advisory with Harold. Sara, and Adrienne were sitting in the chairs off to the side. The chairs resembled portable school-chairs with one of them on either side of Annabelle. It was not a very dignified look compared to the rest of the room. They managed to get Annabelle in via a door located in the far back of the courtroom almost directly diagonal from the entrance we came. The door opened directly to the outside and was almost flushed with the parking lot except for a small cement ramp. They had wheeled Annabelle in, and walked her over to the other seats. Watching Sara and Adrienne wheel Annabelle into the room gave me a feeling of resentment. Why couldn’t we all have walked in through what was basically a fire-exit from the other side of the parking lot? Did all the rooms on this floor have doors like that? A Police Officer stood at the entrance to the room, ready to tow someone away if needed. On the other side of the table sat whom appeared to be Rachel’s mother. She sat in her seat very quietly looking in the opposite direction from us. She seemed to be making an effort to not look in our general direction; although, Rachel did occasionally glance in hers. Next to her sat, who I could only assume was her

lawyer, a man in a grey suit and striped tie. He was a rather thin looking man with slicked-back short dirty-blond hair. For his part he also had a fairly large stack of documents with a pen and paper to take notes. Finally, two women in black skirted business suits and their hair in tight buns sat at the top of the table, mediating our case. They each had a stack of paperwork in front of them as well. It was starting to feel like a very strange case: Annabelle versus her mother (and potentially her father), Rachel versus her mother, Rachel’s mother versus the staff at the Extended Care Facility she was staying at, The Extended Care Facility versus Annabelle’s quality of care, and the Independent Living Centre versus Rachel’s mother. The most important case for Rachel however, was Rachel versus herself. “As you may already know, this is an informal preliminary session, as no formal charges have been laid against anyone. This session will serve as an opportunity for both sides to voice their case and for the court to gather information regarding the defendant.” One of the women stood up. “I will be acting as judge for this case. My assistant,” she said pointed to the woman beside her, “will be cross-examining each of you to obtain as much information regarding both parties of the case, you may think of her as an examiner or prosecutor for simplicity. The case of Annabelle Grace Matheson versus her Mother RoseMarie Matheson-Baird.” That was a tongue twister. “For cases of abuse and neglect leading to bodily harm,” she continued. “Several nurses and care staff at the home Annabelle is currently staying reported seeing what appeared to be several criss-crossing scars running down the defendant’s back. This kind of case is most difficult and because the defendant is unable to represent herself and give her deposition. The Lawyer representing the case is Civil Attorney Rayanne Thomas. The Lawyer representing the accused is Criminal Attorney Martin Sawyer. Ms Thomas would you please introduce us to your team?” Rayanne stood up. “As a representative of this case, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole and nothing but the truth to your best abilities?” the judge asked. I felt like I was watching an episode of Law and Order.

She raised her left hand with her shoulder and elbow t both at right angles and her right arm across her hear with her hand in a fist. “I do,” she said clearly. “Would you please introduce your team representing the defendant?” she asked. “Of course, I have Sara Ahmed, a nurse who has been attending to the care of Annabelle at the extended care facility over the past few months. Next is the defendant Annabelle Grace Matheson. Annabelle is a disabled person who is described as being severely intellectually disabled, she cannot speak for herself, is bound to a wheelchair and requires extensive daily care at the facility. Next to Annabelle is Adrienne Macleod, another nurse who has been directly involved in the care of Annabelle at the facility. Sitting at the table we have have Jesse Blitz,” she waved her left hand in my direction, “a personal worker who was working part time at the Extended Care Facility when he noticed the scars on Annabelle’s back. Beside Jesse, is Rachel Marie Matheson, a young lady who I checked out to be Annabelle’s younger sister. There is approximately four years and eight months between them. Rachel is currently living at the Northcrest Independent Living Centre, her psychological records indicate that she an autistic person requiring moderate assistance. She presents with some learning disabilities and potentially some intellectual issues. Rachel has agreed to give her deposition regarding what she witnessed happen to Annabelle as a child. She has requested to be provided notes on the case from the prosecutor before hand, which have been provided,” she thumbed through some papers and held up a small stapled booklet and gently placed it in front of Rachel. For her part she took it and gave it a glance. “She will also be allowed to write down or type out responses to questions rather than verbally answer them if need be. In which case myself or Rachel’s worker will read them out and your honour may read her answers later to confirm.” Rayanne took in a deep breath. “Next to Rachel are Charmaine Brown and Eric Wong. They are two staff who have been working closely with Rachel at the Independent Living Centre under the Spreading Wings Program.” She looked down at her paperwork and ran her fingers along the sheet she had typed out. “A program for young adults with physical or mental disabilities that helps them learn tools for success in living on their own. I also have Doctor Michel Fortin, a Medical General Practitioner who assessed Annabelle’s overall physical health prior to her case and was able to retrieve Annabelle’s medical records in preparation for representing Annabelle.” She turned slightly back towards Harold’s and Katherine. “Lastly, I have Harold, the Manager of the Extended Care Facility, and Katherine, a nurse supervisor working in Annabelle’s section of the Extended Care Facility. Your honour, I do

apologize, I would normally have not amassed such a conglomerate of people for a case like this. Annabelle, as you mentioned, is an exceptional circumstance however,” she finished and sat back down in her seat. It had become apparent that I was going to have to put effort into keeping myself from slouching or nodding off in session. “Mr. Sawyer?” said the judge looking over in the opposite direction of us. “Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth to your best abilities?” He stood up, and took the oath like Rayanne. “I do.” He began to introduce his client. “My client is Annabelle’s mother, Rose-Marie Matheson. She is currently being investigated regarding the presence of the marks on the defendant’s back and the events leading up to her dropping off her severely disabled daughter at the local police station.” The judge nodded, “As this case falls under civil jurisdictions, and no clear charges have been laid yet. My representative assigned to this case will question each member of the team, acting non-partisan. She has been in correspondence with the lawyers from each side prior to this date. Would my representative like to begin questioning someone from the side of the defendant?” The woman beside her stood up and began to speak. “I would like to start by asking the nurses and immediate care workers from Annabelle’s side,” she said, looking in the direction of Sara. I looked over to watch Sara, she had raised her hand to volunteer in response. The judge gave her a glare. Sara stood up and stated the oath. “Sara Ahmed, can you please recount your first you had become aware of the marks on the defendant’s back?” “I was working on Annabelle’s floor at the time when one of the PSWs on the floor asked me for some assistance regarding seeing something strange on Annabelle’s back. I went in to help lift her up for the worker to be able to place her in her wheelchair for feeding and to take her for a walk. I looked behind her gown to see the marks. Later that shift I mentioned it to our head nurse,” she said waving her hand in Katherine’s direction. “Katherine had confirmed with me that they had already made note of this and things were being investigated.”

“How do you think that Annabelle got these scars?” Sara brushed her hair off to the side nervously, “I was not sure. Judging by the degree of healing they definitely occurred some time ago. I could rule out anything happening to her here at the facility. In addition, my colleague and friend Jesse mentioned them to me and I offered counsel. When I saw them, I thought they looked like cat-scratches. But the logistics of that conclusion would have seemed very strange. Being in my field of work you often deal with trauma wherein our clients have suffered some form of abuse at the hands of the caregiver or someone else close. Over the years you learn to pick up on signs of abuse from previous caregivers. It breaks your heart.” “Thank you,” she said. “Would your colleague have something to say?” Adrienne stood up and Sara sat back down. “When a case like this comes up, are you trained to just assume abuse?” she asked. “We are taught to treat like a case of abuse,” Adrienne responded, “It often helps as a primer to rule the worst-case scenario out first and work our way backwards. Towards better scenarios. But given the nature of the case, I do not see how else something like this could have happened.” “How did you become aware of the markings on her back?” “I was a member of the team which included Katherine and Doctor Fortin performing Annabelle’s intake assessment when she first arrived at the home. The assessment involved a physical examination wherein the presence of the scars was recorded in a medical sketch of her. In a sense, it was the three of us who were the first to know about this and the case started moving forward from there. The presence of scars seemed curios as Annabelle’s notes told us that she had been dropped off at the Police Station by her mother with minimal records and a check for fifty grand.” “But by immediately jumping to a case of abuse from outside, aren’t you ruling out abuse from within the care facility as a means to cover your own ass?” she asked Adrienne. “Yes, but given the circumstances surrounding Annabelle’s case, her care has

been heavily monitored. Each staff member needs to record when she was turned over, when her meals were istered, when she was put to bed and these events are checked and double checked to make sure everything checks out,” Adrienne answered. “In preparation, all records were submitted to the Lawyer as a liaison to you.” “Since you seemed to have access to Annabelle’s records, was there a mention of a sister?” “No, there was not,” Adrienne answered. “She came in with very minimal records and we had to investigate her records.” She looked over to Rachel and then back at Adrienne on the stand, “how can we be sure that this person, who may not have the mental capacity of a functioning adult is in fact her sister?” Slander! I thought. “The Independent Living Centre occasionally works with the extended care facility. From what I could tell, Harold and Charmaine knew each other and were extended colleagues. Charmaine along with Jesse and the young lady in question came by to drop off a special donation of electronic therapy cats for our residents which came from a charity grant. Jesse seemed especially eager to try out the cat on Annabelle as Annabelle could not really communicate with any of the staff and did not have much in the way of visitors or interaction. Harold thought it was a really nice gesture and was all for it. Jesse is just that kind of person, always thinking about the patients,” Adrienne smiled at me, “Even when he is not on active duty.” I felt myself smile back. “I escorted Jesse, Charmaine and a young woman who I did not know was Rachel at the time into the room to let Annabelle have the chance to play with the cat for a bit. We propped Annabelle up on her bed and let her pet the cat. When Rachel got into the room with Annabelle, she immediately started crying and screaming things like ‘sissy’ and ‘be a good girl, don’t hurt her.’ She ran out of the room screaming. Charmaine ran after her and Jesse stayed in the room with Annabelle, dumbfounded.” I noticed Rachel grab and squeeze my wrist from under the table. I jumped in my

seat slightly. “I see!” she said. “What did you think of such an incident?” she asked. “I, I was not sure what to think… being on duty, my concern was Annabelle, and she seemed fine.” “So, this is the framework we have to go off of that this person is in fact Annabelle’s sister?” “I would not be the one to know anything regarding that. That would likely fall under Charmaine’s jurisdiction,” Adrienne responded. She nodded. “You may take your seat.” Adrienne sat back down. The woman walked over to Rayanne. She spoke something very quietly to her that I could not understand and Rayanne gave her some papers from her folder. She lifted her head back up. “In that case, I would like to speak with Charmaine next,” she said. Charmaine stood up at the table. “Charmaine, in what capacity do you know Ms. Rachel?” she asked. “Rachel has been working with the Independent Living Centre for about two years since she was eighteen. Her mother would bring her here for classes and counselling once a week. I helped her with some employment skills and we were able to get her a placement through the centre. Because I already had worked with her, I was assigned as her primary worker when she began our residence program in March of this year,” she explained. “Describe to us this residence program.” “Young adults with disabilities facing barriers to living on their own and maintaining long-term employment live semi-independently on site for six months to a year with the goal of learning skills to gain more independence. The goal of this program is not necessarily to get these people to live on their own, but to develop their skills and assess them for either a longer-term care, a

ive-living program, group-homes, or if they can live on their own and what kinds of s they need to be able to do that and maintain that status.” It sounded like she was starting to ramble. The prosecutor nodded. She quickly glanced in mine’s and Rachel’s direction. “What do you think Rachel needed to work on?” “Rachel needed to work on engaging with the public more, on life-skills such as cooking, time-management, budgeting, and goal setting.” “Engaging with the public?” “Communicating needs, being able to go and buy groceries, able to handle cashtransactions if she wanted a coffee per-say and generally be able to participate in the community. We would go out and practice. She has some issues surrounding social anxiety and managing conversations. Rather than sayI would like a coffee please she might just say coffee. She has some issues with back and forth conversations. We have also been working on managing stress public places.” “How do you think Rachel has been doing?” “I think she has been doing very well. She has been really improving since Jesse offered to work with her.” “Are you still working with Rachel?” she asked. Charmaine shook her head, “Not in a one-on-one capacity as I was before.” “Was there a specific reason as to why you stopped being Rachel’s primary worker for this program?” she asked. I watched Charmaine swallow nervously. “I was worried that I was becoming too invested in Rachel’s success to remain objective in what Rachel could handle on her own. I felt like I was really pushing for her to be able to live on her own with very minimal rather than properly assessing what was best for her after her time here. I wanted her to have all the freedoms of an adult her age without properly considering the repercussions of the system letting her go too soon if it turned out she was not quite ready. She occasionally over estimates her own abilities, give her an inch and she will take a mile.” She paused, looked

down, took in a deep breath, lifted her head back up and continued. “I was also concerned that Rachel had become inappropriately infatuated with one of our volunteers. A volunteer that I purposefully set up with Rachel because they seemed to get along with her well and her them. I felt like I was not acting impartially,” she finished. I lowered my head, had Rachel actually become inappropriately infatuated with me? It felt so strange to even think about it. Were my feeling for her inappropriate as well? Did I lead her on with kindness? The prosecutor scrunched her face, “who might this volunteer be?” she asked. “It was Jesse Blitz!” she said. My heart sank. How was Rachel going to pull herself out of this one? “Is that so?” she said, now looking right at me. “Charmaine, you may take a seat.” Charmaine sat back down. I watched her mouth, “sorry,” to me on her way down. “Jesse Blitz,” she said to me, “Is there anything you would like to say?” My body was shaking. I felt like I could not stand. Beside me, Rachel slapped the table and jumped to her feet. “Can I speak now please?” she said. She took some papers out from her purse and grasped them in her hands in front of her chest, “I’ve heard enough.” I looked right over at her. I watched the judge give her a glare. “Do you allow this?” asked the prosecutor to the judge. The judge put her hand to her forehead like she was getting a migraine. She looked over at me and then at Rachel, who was doing her best to prevent herself from jumping up and down in place. “Deposition!” Rachel said. “Jesse?” she asked me.

Not having much to say on the matter, “this is Rachel’s case!” I said. Nothing that I said could have saved my skin, or Rachel’s anyway. “Rayanne?” asked the prosecutor. “I think we should let Rachel speak,” Rayanne confirmed. The judge nodded and Rachel looked down at her written deposition. She hopped in spot slightly. I clasped my hands together under my chin as though I was praying. I watched Rachel give me a cursory glance. “You got this!” I silently mouthed to her. “You got this Rachel!” I heard Rayanne say. The prosecutor raised her hand and opened her mouth. “No questions please,” Said Rachel. The prosecutor’s hand dropped, her mouth remained opened slightly and her brows furrowed. Her head tilted slightly. I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. She looked down at the paper, then raised it back up, she closed her eyes and began. “My Lawyer Rayanne asked me in preparation for the trial if I knew that Annabelle had been placed in a long-term care facility. Shortly after our dad died, I started living at the Independent Living Centre, I had not seen her since then. Sometimes mom would come to visit, drop off some things. I would ask her how she was doing and she would not say anything or she would try to change the subject. She mentioned that my sister was staying with family once. Do I know anything concerning the marks on Annabelle’s back, can you describe any instances of abuse in the family surrounding you an Annabelle? Rayanne asked me. Why can’t I just have a normal child? He would say. Why can’t I have a normal child? Am I being punished? He would slap her, and whip her back with a belt. Sometimes it would be when he had to change her diaper as a child 7, 8, 9, 10—when she would scream, or shout, was not cooperating, spill food. I would hear him scream and shout from the other room with her. No Rachel, you cannot go in there right now, m y mom would tell me. I could hear slashing noises from the other side of the door. Sissy! ”

I could hear her voice go up slightly when she said ‘sissy.’ I knew that was her word. “I wanted to be normal, be someone for my parents, but I kept slipping up, I would just do something he would not like. Don’t climb on the counters Rachel. No Annabelle can’t play with you Rachel. Do your homework Rachel. Why can’t you do anything right? From 4-7, he would take us to the Mall and push Rachel on a wheelchair and tie me to it with my harness. So I would not elope. They are staring at us. Can we please just go to the mall in peace? Shut up woman! He would take her wrist and squeeze it tight. Sometimes if I ran, he would do it to me. I would fall down in the middle of the floor and scream in pain. We couldn’t change her when we were out. He did not like to feed her in public. He would yell at her in food courts, slam tables. Leave her outside of the of the washroom while he went in to pee. Sometimes he would take me into the public washroom and leave me outside of the stall with my harness through the crack. Take Rachel and Annabelle to the Park, Let’s just go for a walk. He would run with the chair and let it go when no one was looking. Purposefully slam it into the curb or deliberately take it down one or two steps when there was a ramp a few metres away—bouncy bouncy. Drop her down the curb – maybe ten centimetres. Yikes, my hand slipped, he would say if he thought someone saw. He stopped taking us out after Annabelle was 12. So Rachel, how many times do you think he struck her? Did you ever see it, or see any blood? No but I could hear it. I would see the scars underneath her shirt. Sometimes I would watch my mom do laundry, bloody sheets. She would hum to herself as she would take them out of the basket and put them into the washer. Sometimes she would even cry. How many times do you think he did this? Twelve, maybe twenty, everything kind of runs together, not a specific incidence. Got a little better when she got older, mom started spending more time with Annabelle more alone. Did your mother ever deliberately hurt Annabelle out of Anger? Dropped her and her wheelchair down the porch stairs once or twice. Five, six cement stairs into the sidewalk. She fell out of the chair once. Kept Annabelle in bed after and did not take her to hospital.” I looked over towards Sara, she had her mouth open with her hand over it. The entire room looked flabbergasted. Rachel’s mother just kept her head down, unphased. “My father had a good job. Lots of money. As we got older, he spent more and more time at the office. Come home later and later. Sometimes we would not see

him for 3-4 days. Pull all nighters at the office, crash at a hotel instead. Daddy is on a trip. Daddy is going on a trip. He will be back tonight Rachel, he will be back tonight. What is that smell? Have you been drinking? Alcohol, Cigars and drug-store perfume, he would come home smelling like. Sometimes it would smell slightly different. I would go to the store and try the smells until I found the right one. I would be woken up in the middle of the night to the sounds of screams, slams, banging, things being thrown and other sounds I could not make out. If I screamed, he would come into my room, curl up beside me.You better not say anything darling. Who’d believe you anyway? Run his fingers along my arm while I scrunched up further into the corner of my bed. Breathe heavily in my ear. He would grab me and touch me. Be a good girl Rachel, be a good girl for Daddy. I will be a good girl. Mommy started drinking too, fall asleep on the couch with a bottle by her side, waiting for him. We saw him less and less as I got older. Annabelle would stay in her room longer. I was going to school more, after school reading programs, occupational therapy, reading practice. He started coming back a little more when I was 17. Wh at are we going to with her? You think she can go to school? You’ll be luck y if she can manage a desk job, or sort socks her whole life! Work at a factory! Ha, You think she can have a credit card? She is almost eighteen and can barely read. You think she could manage anything? I have to be there to protect them! I would make circles in opposite directions, while hearing these thingds. She will say nothing for days, randomly tell me a novel and then nothing again. She would hop a bus to six towns over. She has no sense of money. Dollars, cents, quarters, Jesse and I go grocery shopping, Trampoline, twenty-dollars a session, movies, bowling. He started buying getting plane tickets, company trainings, meetings, conferences. Five times in one year. One, day, February, charter business flight down crashed, the flight crashed and came down in the Ocean. Down over the Ocean. What am I going to do with you? What am I going to do with you?” Rachel began to hyperventilate. I could see her torso rocking back and forth and her chest heaving. It looked like she was about to collapse. “You live here now Rachel, Annabelle and Dad are gone, you live here now.” I watched her shake her head with her eyes closed. “Just don’t scream during the session, just don’t scream in the room!” she fell back into her chair.

Chapter 37

Sara, Charmaine, Eric and I took Rachel out into the hallway to give her some air. Sara brought her some water once she started to calm down. She sat on the floor of the hallway and drank right out of the bottle. I sat beside her with my hand around her. She was still breathing heavily but she seemed to have calmed down significantly. “You did a great job,” I said to her. “Inappropriately infatuated?” Rachel said while looking up at Charmaine. She stood on the opposite side of the hallway with her back against the was. She had her eyes on the door, keeping an eye on what was going on in the courtroom. Eric was standing next to her, “I never heard this part of the story when I got assigned to Rachel’s case.” “That’s because I never told anyone,” she said. “I felt like I was secretly playing matchmaker, when I should not have been.” “If I had known this, and known who Jesse was, I never would have let him see her again,” said Eric. I felt myself inch away from Rachel. I took my arm away from around her in embarrassment. “So, did Jesse reciprocate?” he asked. “I’m right here!” I said. Charmaine let our a sigh, “Yes, he did. And I didn’t do anything because I thought I could trust him.” “You can trust him!” said Rachel. “Well, I have definitely lost my job here!” “Yeah, well you did this to yourself!” said Eric.

“Well, supervisor doesn’t know yet. Guess I could go back to waiting tables!” Come work at the centre, no chance of getting too invested in the clients there! Harold would love it! I thought. I shook my head, “Don’t blame Charmaine. She really liked me and she really wanted Rachel to have something that resembled a normal friendship. She knew I was down in the dumps, and she thought me spending time with Rachel could help me out. Even if it was a little unorthodox!” I said. “Unorthodox?” Eric raised his voice, “we trusted you with her!” “To be fair, I never made any kind of advancement on her. I did not mean to fall for her. I did not see myself falling for someone like her!” “Falling for someone like her?” Rachel asked. “I did not think I would fall for someone who was different, but I fell for you because you are... different!” I said. “You made me realize that being an average, every day person who no one bats an eye at is... overrated.” “No one bats an eye at?” “Rachel,” I stood up, walked over to her and grabbed her hand, “I was always really self-conscious about blending in and doing what was perceived to be the right thing. You make me want to dance like no one is watching!” I said to her. “I did not even realize how amazing you are until today!” “I think you did a great job Rachel!” said Eric. “You really did, Rachel!” I echoed. Eric looked over at Charmaine, “you really care about Rachel and her success!” “Success?” Charmaine laughed and tilted her head back. “What even is success for Rachel?” she swung her hand in Rachel’s direction. “Go to school!” Rachel said as she took my hand. I looked back over at her pulling herself up.

“Maybe live with a roommate. Have my own credit-card...” I smiled, “Rachel, wants to be a normal 20-year-old!” I said. “Well, maybe I can still see a worker or a therapist... once a week. Checkup!” she said. I looked back over at Charmaine and Eric, “Most twenty-year-olds wouldn’t have the where-with-all to recognize when they need help. Did any of you ever ask her what she wanted?” They were both silent. “Do you think you can do it Rachel?” Charmaine asked. “Want to try!” she said. “Well, at least she is not smoking, doing drugs, and partying all night like some twenty-year-olds I know...or I knew...” said Eric. I looked over to see Sara smiling. “I mean, in someways, she has more wherewith-all than a lot of twenty-year-olds I know, or knew!” Rachel threw her arms around me and gave me a hug in front of everyone. I looked to see Eric burying his head in his hands, “What am I going to do with this one?” he said. Charmaine looked over at him, “I suppose you could let Rachel try to have a normal relationship. I mean, it’s not like she is running off to get married and skip town with the guy!” “You wouldn’t let me!” I said to her, “you would hunt me down with a pitchfork in the night!” “Try a gun!” Eric said. I laughed. It felt surreal to be sitting in the hallway of a courthouse laughing and joking with these people as if they were my classmates at school. I heard a knock on the courtroom door, Rayanne stepped outside to see us. We all turned our heads in her direction. “So, the judge threw out your mom’s case.

They are asking if you want to press charges against her,” she said. What would have been the right thing here for Rachel? “Rachel,” Charmaine spoke, “you know you don’t have to say yes.” Rachel let go of me and pushed back. “I would like to speak to my mom,” she said. Everyone’s eyes went wide. Rayanne nodded. Rachel followed Rayanne back into the room, and each of us followed behind them. The room was quiet, you could hear a pin drop on the carpeted floor. I looked over at Rachel’s mother. Her face was flushed and she had a tissue in her hand. I wanted to grab Rachel’s hand and pull her back. At that moment, I don’t think she cared about her mother’s feelings, or what her mom thought of her. Rayanne turned and approached Rachel’s mom. “Ms. Matheson,” she spoke, “Your daughter would like to say something to you.” She stepped aside to let Rachel approach her mom. Rachel walked up to her mom, stood about arm’s length form her and said, “What do you have to say for yourself?” Her mother turned to face her, wiped a tear from her eye and said, “you are so beautiful. I am sorry I couldn’t be a better mother to you. I was facing so many other problems. I just got lost in all the madness. I did not consider I was hurting you, or if I even could hurt you. I was so young and I stayed home while your father went out to work, I just felt overwhelmed. When your father died and I got that settlement. I just felt like I had been in darkness for 25 years and I could only now feel the sun on my face.” She let out a whimper and a moan before attempting to throw her arms around Rachel. Rachel jumped back, “no, no, no!” she said. Charmaine walked up in front of Rachel to get between the two of them. “You have said enough!” she said. She spread out her arms and legs to cover Rachel.

I heard the judge’s gavel smash the little wooden block. “I think we have had enough.” everyone fell silent. I watched the judge look over towards Eric. “Eric Wong,” she said. “I know you haven’t had much opportunity to talk and you kind of got interrupted. Is there anything you would like to say regarding Rachel and her case?” “I have only known Rachel for just short of a month. But I can say she is very bright and I know she wants to succeed. Jesse...” he looked in my direction. “Jesse has been very good with spending time with her and helping her come out of her shell. She has a lot more confidence in herself as a result of him simply being there for her and encouraging her,” he finished. I mouthed, “thank you,” in his direction. It was relieving to hear that. I guess he likes me after all. The judge nodded, “I think we have heard a lot for one day. We all have a lot to digest. We have been through a lot here today and it would be wise for everyone to recuperate for a little while. I feel it best to adjourn this meeting. Although I do not know very much about this young woman, I can say that she has been very brave today. And that she loves her sister dearly!” Rachel smiled, she walked over towards Annabelle and threw her arms around her from behind. We walked out of the courtroom, out of the building and back towards the cars. Sara and Adrienne took Annabelle out the back door and would catch up with us later. As we walked down I inched my way closer to Rachel. “You know we are very proud of you today!” I said to her. “How did you manage that?” I asked. She kept walking down and answered without even looking at me, “I watched court shows on my laptop! Looked up the layout of the building ahead of time and memorized my path,” she said. “Wow!” I said. “That is amazing.” “Yes, we are all very proud of you Rachel!” said Charmaine. “So, Rachel, what is next on the agenda for today?” Eric asked. “Should we celebrate?”

I smiled, “You know, it would be a real shame to waste that dress on the courtroom!” “Waterfront? Beach?” she said. “Looks like we are going to the beach!” I said as I stepped down from the last step onto the sidewalk. “Yea, I am sure there is room in the car for you. We can all go, like one big family.” “Yes, I’ll even ask Sara if we can take Annabelle before going back to the Care Centre! Is that a good idea?” I asked. Rachel nodded and bounced slightly without leaving the ground. Before we turned to go in the direction of the car, Rachel turned back towards Eric and walked right up to him, “Eric...” she said. “Yes Rachel?” “Want to set up counselling with a therapist for Complex PTSD!” Eric looked surprised, he had a great big smile on his face, “yes, of course, would you like me to help set that up for you?” he asked. “As my primary worker for the Independent Living Centre,” she said. He put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a side hug. “That’s amazing Rachel” he said, “of course!”

Chapter 38

I arrived at the Independent Living Centre the Saturday afternoon after the session to meet Rachel. Charmaine told me that she had a surprise for me, her and the gang that Rachel was going to love. I stood on the steps to the Independent Living Centre and noticed Sara walking up towards me. “I did not know you were going to be here.” I said to her. “Well, I figured you would. Charmaine invited me. She wanted to take everyone who helped out with the trial out for a celebration,” she said. “Of course! So who else is coming?” I asked. Before Sara could answer the doors to the Independent Living Centre swung open and out stepped Rachel next to Charmaine with Eric, Lauri, Iris, and Nathan coming up behind them. “Looks like we have a full house!” Sara said. “Two cars?” I just smiled and laughed. “Jesse!” Rachel ran up to me and gave me a great big hug! I felt my ribs squeeze. She released me and I glanced around at everyone. Everyone was smiling and looking excited. It was a crisp morning in August and it felt like a good day for celebration. I looked over to Eric, “So, what is going to happen now?” I asked him. He looked towards me, “We can talk about that later, I just want you to know that everyone did great! Especially Rachel!” He patted her on the shoulder. I looked over to Sara, her hair was down and blowing in the wind. “Today is also a celebration for Nathan, he’ll be moving out on his own for September. I’ll come by to help him out once a week for the first couple of months and we can go from there. Right?”

He nodded. “You’ll also be helping me move!” he said. “Yes,” she agreed. “So, how are we going to do this?” I asked. I looked over at Rachel, she looked to be getting antsy. She was bouncing up and down on her tip-toes. “Well, How about Sara, Nathan and Eric in Sara’s car, and you, me, Rachel and Lauri with Iris in my car?” Charmaine said. “Does that sound okay Lauri?” she asked. I looked over at Lauri’s dog. How was Iris going to fit in? Was I going to have to sit next to her? “Iris sits in the back with me!” said Rachel. Lauri just smiled, “Works for me. I should get in the front then. I take it Rachel wants to sit next to Jesse?” I felt myself blush. Charmaine started walking towards the parking lot; Rachel grabbed my hand and followed behind her. She clearly still liked Charmaine over Eric. She made the right choice in the end. Charmaine opened up the front enger door for Lauri before getting into the driver’s seat on the other side. I watched Lauri feel around for the top of the car. Once she grabbed the underside of the ceiling, she let go of Iris’s harness and handed the leash in mine’s and Rachel’s direction. Rachel reached out and took the leash from Lauri before she slipped into the front seat. “You can take the harness off if you like,” she said. Rachel patted the dog on the head before gently removing the harness from underneath her tummy. Iris bowed her head as it came off. Rachel got into the car and said, “come on Iris.” The dog walked into the car and sat at Rachel’s feet. She curled right up and took as little space as possible. She looked like a

big furry golden blanket. She was a really obedient dog. I walked around the car to let myself in the other side. I watched Sara’s car pull out ahead of ours and we followed behind. “I take it Eric and Sara know where we are going?” I asked. “Actually, this was Eric’s idea. His family owns a cottage just outside of town and he thought it would be a good place to go and get away for a bit! “Cottage!” Rachel said, “Campfire!” I saw her clap her hands. “Is that correct?” I asked. “I agreed with him, I thought it was a great idea. A perfect way to end off the summer. We drove for what felt like an hour straight out of the city and up north onto a small country road. I hadn’t been out of the city in quite some time, much less going out to someone’s cottage in the wilderness. This was definitely a treat for us all. As we turned down the gravel road, Rachel rolled down the window and put her hand out to feel the breeze. She giggled. The country air did feel refreshing. The road was lined with a mix of tall trees and shrubs. Sara’s car turned right down a dirt driveway that opened to a large wooden house beside a lake. It looked like something off of a postcard. We parked our cars and slowly walked out down the path towards the dock. All except Iris that is, who bolted out of the car and ran straight for the water. Rachel stepped out and started, “Iris!” she called. I managed to grab her wrist before she started running after the dog. “Iris will be okay, maybe you should help Lauri instead!” I said. She still had a lot to learn about just running off. “Help Lauri instead!” she agreed with me. That’s good Rachel. She looked calmer than usual. Lauri opened the door and stepped outside. I watched her take in a big whiff of air through her nose. She exhaled slowly, “ahhhh.”“Did I hear Iris run off?” she

asked. “Water!” Rachel said. “Ha, silly dog!” “Yeah, silly dog,” I said. “Should I go after her?” I asked. “Just keep an eye out for her, she’ll come back. She won’t go far. She just gets a little excited being outside without her harness.” I couldn’t have agreed more, it reminded me of when Rachel and I were at the waterfront with Iris. She was very eager to run off into the water there too. “No matter how much you train them, she is a dog!” I heard her say. We slowly walked down the trail and to towards the dock. I watched Eric turn towards what looked like a fire-pit with some wooden chairs around it. Behind the cottage was an open grass yard with a few trees and a shed off in the distance. “There’s some firewood in the she,” said Eric. Lauri took Rachel’s arm and they started walking towards the water. It was too nice of a day to miss out on the water, even if I did not bring my swimsuit. I noticed Eric and Charmaine diverge off towards the shed. Rachel picked up pace slightly and walked up over to the dock. She stopped at the edge of the dock and sat herself down with her feet dangling over the edge. Lauri carefully ed her. For my part, I ran up to the shore to keep an eye on Iris. She was swimming out in the water maybe twenty feet away from me. I kicked off my shoes, rolled up my pants and waded out into the water. It was cool and refreshing on my feet. “Iris!” I called out. She turned around and ran back towards me panting with her tongue out (just like you would expect a dog). She splashed water in every

direction as she came for me; my clothes started to get wet. Can’t get much more exciting than this. “Come on girl!” I said. I walked backwards slightly towards the beach. She came bounding right towards me and stopped in front of me. “That’s a good dog. We need to go back to Lauri now!” I walked along the shoreline and up the dock towards them. I looked back to see Iris following me. I walked up to the edge of the dock right behind Lauri and Rachel. “Lauri, Iris is here,” I said to her as I came up behind her. I tapped her on the shoulder. She let her right arm out to pat Iris and the dog sat down beside her. “May I you?” I asked. “Someone got all wet!” said Lauri. “Sit beside me Jesse!” said Rachel. She put her hand out beside her and tapped the dock lightly. I sat myself down on the edge of the dock next to Rachel. I felt her put her hand on top of mine and her head fell rested on my shoulder. My feet dangled into the water. It felt so good to let myself relax. I looked out into the horizon. Trees lined the lake in every direction. I could see other cottages dotting the shoreline of the lake. “So, Rachel, what’s next?” I asked. “Take over the world!” she said raising her arms into the air and kicking her feet. I just laughed, put my head on hers and stared off into the sky. Clothes and all, Rachel dove into the water from a sitting position, I covered my face from the splash. There she goes as usual! She popped her head back up. “Are you coming in?” she asked. “I... I don’t think so,” I said. “Someone has to watch out for you and stay dry.” I watched her swim off and along the shoreline. She made sure not to go too far. I hope we don’t make a mess of the car after. The sun started to set on the horizon. Eric and Charmaine called us back to the main area. They had started a fire for us in the fire-pit. I watched Lauri’s eyes go wide, she could definitely see something! Rachel saw the fire and immediately ran over to sit down right in front of it, completely ignoring the setup of chairs.

She was still dripping a little. She must be cold now! I sat down on the chair closest to her, Lauri found herself a chair next to me and her dog sat down beside her in the grass. Charmaine and Eric were already sitting down on the other chairs around the fire. “So, did you guys have fun today?” she asked. “Yeah!” I answered. “So, what happens now?” I asked. “Well, while Rachel’s mother is under investigation the centre was given control over Rachel’s finances. I am going to go to the bank with Rachel on Monday to start to show her her and we can start figuring some things out together,” Eric replied. “We still have her own court-date in a little while. Just before the end of the year. We can start giving Rachel a card with a limited withdrawal amount and monitor it from there. I can also hand over her ID to her!” I looked to Rachel to see her smiling and intensely watching the fire. She did not even look like she was paying attention to us. “So, Rachel, is there anything you would like to do?” I asked her, trying to see if she was in fact listening. “Go to school!” she said. “What would you like to take?” Charmaine “I bet you would be great at environmental sciences! Or something to do with animals!” “I think I will try math,” she answered. I smiled, “she loves calculus!” I agreed. “I’m sure she will be great,” said Eric, “We should see if we can get you into some courses for September so that you can qualify for everything for this winter.” “For this winter?” she looked back at him. “Your birthday is also coming up!” he said. “Is there something you would like?” I asked.

“Well, I’ll be 21,” she said. “Maybe we should go drinking!” she said with a laugh. I laughed too. The drinking age is 19 Rachel. Let her have this, I thought. I looked over to Eric for his reaction. “Well if it gets you motivated to work on some stuff.” he replied. “Yeah, you are ordering us the drinks!” I said. “Ordering us the drinks!” she said back. “I think she’s got it,” I said, “Drinks on Rachel or her birthday.” “What about you Jesse?” Charmaine asked. “I hadn’t thought much about it...” I said. “I spent so much time and energy helping Rachel and making sure she had a decent shot at winning the trial (for both her and for Annabelle), just spending time with her really. I hadn’t thought of what’s next for me. I could go back to the centre, or I could pursue something new in life...” “Pursue something new in life,” Rachel echoed. She rocked side-to-side slightly while staring at the fire. “Well, that settles it!” I said. I hadn’t given it much thought, maybe I would go back to school too. Try to help people in different ways. I learned not to let myself be pigeon-holed, the sky is the limit! “You know,” I heard Lauri say. “We have this really nice fire here, but no marshmallows!” “I have some of those!” Eric said as he stood up to get some. Rachel stood up shortly after him, “marshmallows, marshmallows, marshmallows!” she said. She ran off past us behind the chairs and towards the trees. “Rach...” I decided to let her go. If I learned anything, it was to trust her, and not to underestimate her.

She came back holding several large sticks in one hand, “marshmallows, marshmallows, marshmallows,” she said again. I sighed. She dropped all but one of the sticks beside the fire and started poking one into the fire. She let the stick catch fire on the end before taking it out. The fire went out as she pulled it out of the flame. There was still a hot ember at the tip of the stick. It glowed in the low-light of the evening. She waved it around, making circles and arcs with it as she twirled and spun. The light from the stick followed her movements like a ribbon. It reminded me of a sparkler. She jumped and danced and twirled until the ember went out, only to stab in into the fire and repeat. I smiled. That was Rachel; Rachel would always be Rachel.

Chapter 39–Epilogue

I had just left the cat cafe and had started walking to Rachel’s new place to see her. A few months ed since Rachel’s original deposition. Being able to tell her story seemed to give Rachel a whole new level of confidence. With the help of her disability worker and Eric, Rachel enrolled into a local adult high-school to get her courses for university. Even though she had her high-school education, she was missing some university essentials. It turned out that the guidance counsellors and her parents pushed her through school with the most basic or courses the first time around. Workplace English and the like. It was heartbreaking to even think of what Rachel must have been through in highschool. She must have felt so stifled, or just bored. The second court date for Annabelle’s case came in September. Rachel’s mom lost the case and was sentenced to only one year at local detention centre and another year of probation afterwards. She took a plea bargain. Her lawyer got the judge to place most of the blame on the deceased father. She’ll be required to see a therapist regularly when she comes out. She will also have to run all visits and communications through Rachel’s disability worker first before talking to her. We will see how that goes! Rachel did not seem to mind the (what most would have thought as light) sentence. She wasn’t interested in a justice or payment, all she seemed to want was to be able to finally breathe. Rachel’s own court date occurred in November, just a little over a month after her twenty-first birthday. Rachel was able to win her case and gain control over her finances with minor restrictions imposed by her disability worker. Five hundred dollar ATM withdrawal limit each week for the first six months. Rachel got accepted into community housing in January. She decided to live with a roommate who was about her age who was also on the autism spectrum. Eric helped arrange it as a way for the two of them to work on their skills together. Rachel is definitely looking forward to being able to go to University in the coming fall. She also started receiving counselling from a therapist to work through what she experienced growing up. She is working on stress management and being able to express herself better. With her mother out of the picture Rachel seemed a lot more confident, and less constantly on edge. Rachel may

always need some form of help, but at least she has people in her corner watching out for her. With Rachel moved out of the Centre I was given the metaphorical green light to take off the kid-gloves when it came to our relationship. Rachel and I decided to give ourselves a year. If Rachel could do well living on her own with a roommate, working and school, then we could talk me moving forward with my promise. It would also give us some time to get to know each other better; to see if we could make it work. I also made sure she knew that I would not pressure her to move faster than what she was ready for. All I want, is for Rachel to be happy and free! Rachel makes an effort to see Annabelle at least twice a month. Sometimes I go with her and say hi to the old gang. She keeps the picture of the three of us in her room on the nightstand. Yes Lauri and Iris visit frequently. Rachel still offers to take Iris for walks for downtime. Nathan was able to get an apartment only a few blocks away from Sara’s complex at a price subsidized to for his disability fund. Sara visits him Saturdays and Wednesdays in the evening. She even updated her profile with a picture of her next to Nathan. Charmaine decided to keep working at the centre. She became the new intake worker for the Spreading Wings Program. We have coffee once in a while to catch up. She still visits and watches over her favourite client as much as she can. Rachel loves it when she can come over. As for me. I handed in my official resignation at the Extended Care Centre and decided to go back to school. I decided to go in for psychology with a concentration on developmental and learning disabilities. I also aim to take courses in criminology. Maybe Rachel and I can go to school together, that will give her something to push for! No matter what I end up doing, I want to help people, and I want to lend my voice to those who need it. If you had asked me where I saw myself going a year ago, I never would have imagined this. I finally made it up to her her apartment and knocked on the door. No open-door policy here! Rachel opened the door. Her roommate was sitting at the dining room table behind her. Rachel’s eyes focused on the carrier I had in my hand. I could see her smiling and she started jumping on the spot. I came in and set

myself down on the floor with the carrier right in front of me. Rachel knelt down in front of the carrier and carefully unzipped the top to reveal a small black cat! She picked it up just under its front legs and held it up in front of her. “Does it have a name?” she asked me. “The Cat-Cafe called her Twilight!” I said. “Twilight!” she said back to me. “I like it!” She put the cat on her lap and let it sit down. She petted it as it began to move around its surroundings. Rachel had been wanting to get a cat for a while. I was helping her outfit her her house in preparation. Litter box, scratching-post, a bed, food, the works. The Cat-Cafe even offered first-time cat owner classes. It was time to bring her home! I know Rachel will love and take care of her, if she doesn’t she’s got me to answer to. One last thing, after Rachel’s trial and she got into her new apartment, I decided to look into getting myself assessed for Autism Spectrum Disorder. I got myself set up with a private clinician thanks to a pamphlet at the Independent Living Centre. Rachel was the one who suggested it to me. It sounded ridiculous at first, but perhaps there was some truth to it, Charmaine thought it was an amazing idea and could not have agreed more. After all, if you’ve met person with autism, you’ve met one autistic person.