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Authors: Joanna Gosse

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BOOK: Liar
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House of Marriage

China set up the meeting with Nathan, who seemed very kind and understanding. She was relieved that she’d taken a difficult but necessary step towards mending her marriage with Sam. She’d never even tried counselling in her previous relationships, but she was more mature now, had made a bigger investment, and still loved Sam albeit with an aching heart.

China worked hard at her carving and was thrilled to make a good profit at the Fall Fair that was held at the Town Hall. Sam joined China later for the barbecue and bonfire on the beach. Actually there was a pretty fair mix of aboriginal and white artists who made a profit that day. The population swelled to about 2500 with the influx of tourists and urban Grimshaws from Halifax and the environs. It was quite a party and everyone put aside their usual grumbles to enjoy the beautiful day.

~ ~

China and Sam were both anxious at the first session with Nathan. China felt like a naughty schoolgirl in front of the principal. Sam just looked plain nervous. Nathan, in his early sixties, looked like a benevolent, thin, Santa Claus with a grey beard, and reading glasses perched on the middle of his surprisingly tiny nose. After some polite chatter about the weather, Nathan got down to business.

“First of all, I have two important questions to ask. Are you both committed to doing the work necessary to solve the problems?”

China and Sam responded affirmatively.

“Are either of you having an affair?”

“No,” said China.

“No,” said Sam.

“I realize I’m being rather blunt but it’s my experience that if there’s a third party involved, the problems will be a lot more difficult to resolve.”

Nathan looked severely at Sam and China. They once again shook their heads, and he smiled and continued the session with more cheer.

China knew that infidelity had been the main problem with Sam’s first marriage, but she was also sure it wasn’t the problem with her and Sam. Lying was the main problem. She and Sam left an hour later with personality tests they both had to fill out and pass in before the next session. Nathan needed to know what kind of people they were before he could give them clues on how to communicate.

“In the beginning,” said Nathan, “I’ll need to see you both once a week and then a session together the following week. If you feel the need to schedule more time, that can be arranged. Please feel free to call me at any time.”

China and Sam dutifully sat down after supper to fill in the blanks of the Myers Briggs test. Sam slouched in front of the television while China sat primly at the kitchen table.

“China, what did you answer for question four in the A section?” asked Sam.

“None of your business,” replied China.

“It’s very ambiguous. Either answer could be the right one.”

“There’s no right or wrong answer Sam. We’re not being graded on this.”

“So, tell me your answer.”

“No. It’s your test. I don’t want to do your work for you.”

“You’re not doing my work,” Sam persisted in a reasonable tone. “I’m just curious.”

China didn’t reply. She ignored Sam and continued answering the questions. She found some of the questions very silly and didn’t agonize forever over her response.

“China?” asked Sam. “I don’t see what difference it makes who decides what restaurant we go to as long as we eat.”

“Right,” mumbled China.

“So, what did you answer?” nagged Sam.

“Sam, will you please shut up? I’m trying to answer a bunch of stupid questions as quickly as I can so I can get to bed. We’re not supposed to do the questions together. It’s a personality test, not a legal document requiring endless discussion and carefully worded answers. All they want is a check mark or a friggin’ circle!”

“So, I take it you’re not going to answer my question?”

“NO!” yelled China. “What part of no do you not understand? You’re not being ethical Sam. I’m going upstairs to finish this.”

She stomped upstairs angrily.
I’m arguing ethics to a compulsive liar? I definitely need counseling,
thought China.

~ ~

China opened the dictionary to try and define Sam’s particular method of lying. Was Sam a compulsive liar or a pathological liar? Compulsive was described as being obsessive; an irresistible impulse to perform an irrational act. Pathological: relating to pathology; something abnormal, deviation from an assumed normal state that caused disease. Still not clear. She was hoping that her private session with Nathan would help her understand how deep Sam’s urge was to lie.

“Nathan, I caught Sam reading my journal once when we were on our honeymoon. He promised not to touch it again, but I’m not so sure he kept that promise. Some of my files were out of order, and sometimes it seemed that the journal had moved since I last wrote in it. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being paranoid.”

“How did you feel when you discovered Sam reading it?”

“Not good. When I got angry, Sam said I had a secret desire for him to read it because I left it in plain view on the bed.”

“Do you agree with that?”

“Not at all. I usually put it away, but sometimes I forget.”

“We’ll bring it up with Sam in our next session together. Is there anything else you want to discuss today?”

“Yes. Sam lies a lot and even though I’ve told him how much it disturbs me, he doesn’t seem able to stop. I guess I want to know if you can fix him.”

Nathan smiled. “I’ll need a lot more sessions with Sam before I can answer that one. Even if he’s willing to do the work, he may never reach the level of honesty you’ll feel comfortable with. It’s partly cultural and that root runs long and deep.”

China found the counselling experience rather unsettling. She left Nathan’s office feeling liberated, validated, and more confused than ever, her mind seething with questions that couldn’t be answered until more work had been done. She wanted all the answers now. She wanted immediate results, but she also realized that counselling was a process that would lead to a place she couldn’t foresee.

Two days later it was Sam’s turn for his session and it also made him edgy. They both had trouble sleeping. China was a bundle of nerves and her stomach was reacting badly. She hadn’t felt horny in a long time and Sam seemed quite happy to just ‘saw one off’ before falling into a restless slumber. China didn’t really mind. It was a warm encounter of the placebo kind.

~ ~

The next week China grabbed a big bottle of water and she and Sam went to see Nathan together. She’d discovered that stress made her very thirsty. Nathan explained the results of the Myers Briggs questionnaire. Sam was a passive aggressive personality and indirect. China was an aggressive personality and very direct. Two different kinds of aggressive behaviour trying to live together wasn’t an easy combination. Nathan explained that in a marriage one party was usually dominant and the other was submissive. China and Sam were both dominant. The test also revealed the neither of them were good at handling emotional issues. Sam’s way of dealing with emotion was to block it out and cheerfully pretend that all was well. China’s method was to blow up and seemingly calm down, but not really let go until her distress had been secretly validated and analyzed in her journal.

Something inside China nudged her towards her next question.

“Nathan, do you think that writing everything in my journal exaggerates or intensifies ordinary feelings?”

“Yes and no,” replied Nathan with a smile. “I keep a journal myself. It’s a process. When you record intense anger, you’ll usually gentle that anger later on with understanding and insights. Not too many people are concerned with inner sight. This is another area where you and Sam differ greatly. He is mainly concerned with the outside world, with little time for inner reflection. China, your inner world is very important to you as an artist and as a woman. How would you feel about never writing in your journal again?”

“Terrible! I can’t stop writing. It would be easier to give up sculpting, and if I couldn’t sculpt, I...I’d write all the time, or...go crazy!” replied China in a panicky voice.

“China,” asked Nathan carefully, “isn’t there a particular matter you want to talk to Sam about?”

“Yes. Yes I do. It hurt like hell when I caught Sam reading my journal.”

“China, look at Sam, not at me, and tell him how you feel.”

China looked at Sam and blinked at the tears welling in her eyes.

“Sam, I don’t ever want you to read my journal again.”

“China,” said Nathan gently. “Try not to talk in ultimatums. Just tell him how you feel.”

A lot of good that does,
thought China. She dutifully spoke her words trying to use the new language of communication Nathan had demonstrated. One must remove all “you shoulds and I thinks and replace them with “perhaps-you-could-try-tos and I feels.”

“Sam,” said China carefully. “I feel violated when you read my journal.”

Sam remained silent and just looked at Nathan.

“You can reply to her Sam,” said Nathan.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam meekly.

“Is that all right with you China?” asked Nathan.

Oh God,
thought China miserably,
what kind of weird charade are we playing here?

“No,” said China angrily. “It’s not all right because I don’t think you mean it.”

“What’s the point in apologizing if that’s going to be your attitude,” said Sam sarcastically.

“You say you’re sorry but I’m not convinced you understand,” cried China miserably. She grabbed the box of tissues and blew her nose.

“Sam,” said Nathan with infinite patience. “What China is trying to explain is that a journal is first of all very private. It is also a journey. It is not absolute and unchangeable. You could very easily misinterpret what she has written.”

“I read that she wanted to leave me,” said Sam unhappily.

“Oh Sam,” wailed China. “That’s exactly the point. It’s what I thought, not what I did. How many married couples have you heard threatening divorce every five minutes when they’re angry about something? It’s a release. You should be thankful for my journal. Otherwise you’d get yelled at a lot more often.”

China gulped some water and Sam grinned shamefacedly at China’s attempt to bring a little humour to the tense proceedings.

“Sam,” said Nathan seriously. “China feels that something extremely important and private has been violated and she needs your reassurance that it won’t happen again.”

“Okay,” said Sam contritely. “I promise I’ll never read your journal again.”

China looked carefully at Sam and uttered her next words wanting with all her heart to believe that what he had just said was true.

“I believe you,” said China.

She and Sam looked at each other with truth and trust in their eyes and China believed that an important step had been taken towards healing.

China and Sam felt like shaky survivors as they walked out to the car. China felt as high as a kite. The session with Sam felt very different than her private session with Nathan. It was even more upsetting and intensely emotional. It seemed to her that ‘the marriage’ became another being that swirled unseen around the room, sometimes lurking behind Nathan’s chair, sometimes sitting in Sam’s lap, sometimes in hers, as the three of them tried to wrestle with the troublesome entity known as ‘the marriage.’

“Well, I think I came off really well this time,” said Sam jokingly as they walked to the car.

China laughed and took Sam’s hand. They went home and made love and China had three powerful orgasms while swimming on a tide of forgiveness and the elation of believing.

~ ~

Nathan wasn’t charging them very much but the sessions were starting to cause trouble with the budget. Sam went to the Council and was able to get his sessions subsidized.

“Sam,” she commented, “I’m surprised you don’t mind having your private business known at the Council and therefore throughout the whole village.”

“Nothing is a secret on this island,” replied Sam. “Besides, there isn’t one family that hasn’t had therapy, intervention, or criminals, at one time or another.”

“How very reassuring,” said China sarcastically.

She was curious about what Sam and Nathan discussed in their private sessions.

“Sam,” she asked, “what did you and Nathan talk about today?”

“Nothing much. I couldn’t think of anything.”

Oh God,
thought China,
maybe I should write him out a list. Most people would be thrilled to spill their inner fears to an impartial, licensed, therapist.

“Maybe you should make a list of things that pop into your head,” suggested China. “That’s what I do.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Sam, looking like his beloved wife had just suggested he put his penis in a meat grinder.

China wondered how long it would take before she’d receive some sign that Sam had changed. She assumed that his quiet, less cheerful, demeanor meant that he was mulling and musing and picking his way through the brambles towards a new path, as yet untravelled by Sam Eagle, that would eventually intersect with China’s. The path that would lead them both to a happier marriage and a new life together.

~ ~

The Cradle

China awoke with a bad pain in her abdomen. She probed her belly and her fingers discovered a large swelling near her groin. She went to see her doctor, who sent her for an ultrasound the next day. She liked Dr. Jesse. She was the no-nonsense type who had arrived on the island five years ago for a locum and she and her husband, a dentist, decided to stay. They were definitely a welcome addition to the population.

“China,” said Dr. Jesse. “I’m making an appointment for you in Halifax with the Chief of Oncology, Dr. Chipman.”

“What?” exclaimed China frantically. “Do you think it’s a tumour?”

“No,” said Jesse calmly. “The Chief of Oncology is also a Gynecologist. I think it’s a big, ugly ovarian cyst but we can’t be sure until they operate. Also, you’ve put off the hysterectomy long enough, so Dr. Chipman will do that at the same time, and take care of that nagging bladder problem. I’ve made an appointment for you next week. You may have to come back home and wait for the operation to be scheduled but I think Dr. Chipman will decide to operate as soon as possible.”

China walked home feeling very fragile and wishing that Dr. Jesse wasn’t quite so no-nonsense. She told Sam the good news. He also had some good news.

“Larry and I just landed a big client with the Ojibway Cree in Northern Ontario. They’re battling with Ontario Hydro over water rights and river pollution.”

“That’s great,” said China automatically. “When do you have to go?”

“Next week. We can take the ferry together and I’ll stay with you in Halifax overnight. We’ll celebrate with a nice hotel.”

That’s nice Sam,
thought China.
We’ll celebrate your new client, and I’ll celebrate having my old insides torn out and possible cancer.

Nathan was distressed that the counseling would be interrupted just as they had gotten started. He told China to call him as soon as she felt well enough to schedule the next appointment. China felt as though she’d been hit with a ton of bricks. She was in survival mode and her marriage and Sam’s behaviour were the least of her worries.

~ ~

China and Sam tried to sleep on the ferry that took them to the mainland and her appointment with the Chief of Oncology. China supposed that to doctors a body was an annoying cavern holding secrets from them. She knew her body intimately but still it held secrets from her, surprises. It often let her down. It often felt to her as though it had a life of its own, would not listen to her will, and simply allowed her to stay for an indeterminate length of time. She controlled her mind and her soul, although her soul seemed to have a better connection with her body than her mind did. Her soul was the mediator, the conduit between her mind and her body. Her lovely body had betrayed her, there was a war going on, her soul was confused and the allies, the doctors, had been called in to mediate, settle the differences, or pronounce the country not worth saving.

Sam tossed above her in a bunk as uncomfortable as hers. She won the bottom bed due to her weak bladder that needed frequent access to the bathroom. Had Sam’s never-ending assaults on her body weakened her organs, or was it just time and gravity and giving birth?

Is Sam up there tossing and regretting his decision of not marrying a young one? Men-a-pause is not a pretty picture. The physical changes are bad enough but the anger of middle-aged women is not to be believed. Anger directed at their poor, wicked husbands.

Things have changed, Sam. On the first ferry trip to the island, we slept together on the lower bunk. You were still on top though. The rocking motion of the ferry copied the rocking of my hips, my womb the cradle that rocked us both to sleep.

Silent tears welled in China’s eyes and slipped like miniature rivers into her pillow. How many times had she felt the knot in her belly each time Sam lied, each time the rent was due, or a bill not paid? Each time he left her alone in a village full of strangers. The words that often passed through China’s mind,
I’ve got a knot in my belly
, had become physical reality. She vowed to be more careful about the thoughts she sent out into the universe.

~ ~

At the cancer center in Halifax, China answered a million questions while Sam read magazines, or paced, listening to the thoughts that only he had access to. Then, a student doctor examined China, probed for hours it seemed. China watched her face and saw the concern when she felt the cyst. Then the student doctor called in the big gun, the specialist. Dr. Chipman, Chief of Oncology, walked in, glanced very briefly at China’s face and then his bespectacled eyes zeroed in on his specialty, the place between her thighs, spread-eagled, foot-stirruped, for his lordly scrutiny. China sat up, held out her hand, and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m China Collins.”

“I’m Dr. Chipman. How do you do?”

They shook hands between her legs.

“That remains to be seen,” answered China sharply.

Dr. Chipman smiled warily as China lay back down on the table and submitted to the stranger’s intrusion.

Fuck him,
thought China,
I’ll be damned if he’s going to enter me without a proper introduction.

Quick, cool hands touched, probed and exited in a matter of seconds. The doctor smiled at China, told her to get dressed and meet him in his office.
Will I get a cup of tea,
she wondered?

Sam was found, pulled away from his inscrutable thoughts into the rude world of his wife’s anatomy rendered impersonal by the medical establishment. The doctor, the nurse, the student doctor, and Mr. and Mrs. Eagle, all scuttled into a small sterile room inhabited by a couch, several plastic chairs and a lonely plant. Sam sprawled on the couch while China and the medical team perched on the plastic chairs. China was shaking because the nurse and the student doctor looked terribly concerned and nervous. The doctor was quite cool as he outlined the procedures and then asked her to sign for removal of ovaries still functioning, a fallen uterus no longer needed, an ovarian tumour slash cyst never wanted, and a bladder bolstering desperately needed.

“We really can’t be sure if it’s a cyst or a tumour until we see it,” said Dr. Chipman. “We also need your permission to insert a catheter in your chest in case the tumour is cancerous and we need to start chemotherapy immediately.”

What? What’s he talking about?
China started to feel panic thundering in her chest.

“Whoa,” said China. “Stop right there. IF, the cyst is cancerous, and I don’t think it is, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“Well,” said the Monster, “since you’re already in the hospital, if it is cancer, it’s much easier to insert the catheter right away. Veins often collapse due to the toxicity of chemotherapy and a chest catheter makes it easier for the nurses to administer the drugs.”

Ah,
thought China,
it’s all about money and not having to operate again in order to insert the catheter. The Monster is thinking about convenience and cover your ass, and I’m thinking about whether or not I’m going to scream and throw up or keep my dignity, which is leaking out of me at an alarming rate.

China took a deep breath, which wasn’t easy due to the shaking of her body, and told the Monster exactly what she was prepared to do.

“No, I will not sign for you to insert a catheter because I am an optimist and I need to go into the operation believing the best. If the cyst turns out to be a malignant tumour, I may decide not to have chemotherapy, but I’d rather cross that bridge when I come to it.”

The Monster and his cohorts looked at each other.
Poor, deluded
woman. We know terrified denial when we see it.

“Very well,” said the Monster. “Do you have any other questions?”

“Yes. When will I be admitted?” asked China.

“Tomorrow noon. We’ll operate early the following day.”

“So soon? I thought I’d have to wait at least a couple of weeks.”

The Monster smiled reassuringly.

“We had a cancellation.”

I wonder who died,
thought China. She looked at Sam and was horrified at the sight of him laying back against the couch, seeming to be asleep, his hands clasped across his big belly.
When did Sam put on thirty more pounds? When did he get so sloppy about shaving?
Sam’s unshaven jowls spilled unbecomingly over his non-existent neck onto his chest, his splayed legs and sloppy posture the very picture of defeat.

“Do you have any questions, Sam?” asked China.

“I don’t think so,” said Sam dazedly.

Christ,
thought China,
sitting rigidly upright on the edge of her chair, is he awake? Did he have to give up so easily? Couldn’t he at least give the appearance of all is well, not to worry, we’ll lick this minor problem? No, the Warrior sat there like a wet wimp, like the disgusting toad in Star Wars. What was his name?

China suddenly saw herself as the Monster saw her. An attractive, intelligent, brave woman, married to a drooling idiot, poor thing. No support there. Guess she’s on her own.

The doctor said his goodbyes and the nurse had the temerity to tell China that chemotherapy worked really well with ovarian cancer.

“Excuse me,” said China. “You don’t understand. I choose to believe that I don’t have cancer and I do not wish to discuss any further treatment until after the operation. One misery at a time. Come on Sam.”

They picked up China’s sheet of instructions at the front desk and walked to the parking lot without saying a word. They got in the car and Sam turned the key. As the motor roared to life China started to sob.

“Turn it off!” she screamed. “I can’t go anywhere. I need to think.”

Sam turned the key in the ignition and waited while China let loose a vicious rant.

“Son of a bitch! Who the hell does he think he is talking to me like that? Boy, does the threat of cancer put life into perspective big time! I’m not wasting any more time Sam. We’re getting an apartment in Halifax as soon as I’m on my feet. I’m not waiting any longer for you to make up your mind about where you live. I want two thousand dollars in my savings account immediately so that when I’m able, I’m going to get an apartment here and you can live here with me or not, I don’t care. You don’t make any sense Sam. This operation doesn’t make any sense. Unless it’s my body telling me that your lies are making me ill. No more lies! No more living where you want me to live while you fly all over this country. This is what I get for loving you? Can you do that for me Sam? Can you put that money in the bank so that I know I’ll have a future? Can you do that?”

“Sure,” said Sam, scared by China’s violent outburst. “I’ll put the money in your account in a couple of weeks.”

“Do you promise Sam? Do you promise?” China sobbed.

“I promise,” said Sam.

“Okay, now take me back to the hotel.”

China called her cousin, Margaret, who was a nurse in Toronto, for reassurance.

“China, they’re just covering their asses. The doctors are afraid of being sued. The nurse and student doctor were witnesses. People don’t listen. They hear what they want to hear. Years ago they told you nothing. Now, they tell you more than you want to hear so you can’t say you weren’t informed to a fare thee well.”

“But did he have to be so cruel?” cried China. “He doesn’t know me. I just met him and he treated me like I was a speck of dust.”

“He’s the Chief of Oncology China. You’ve got the best. He’s a surgeon, not your best friend. It’s better he doesn’t know you. That’s how most surgeons operate, pun intended. You did fine China. Most people would have gone like a lamb to the slaughter. You stuck up for your rights. He’s already impressed by your resistance. He’ll treat you right. Don’t worry.”

China hung up and looked at Sam lying on the bed.

“Margaret says he’s an excellent surgeon and not to worry. He was just covering his ass so I won’t sue him later. Isn’t that nice?”

“I wouldn’t want his job. Doctors are special breeds. From another planet. Come here,” said Sam opening his arms.

China lay in the warm comfort of Sam’s big body, wishing that his actions were as comfortable and reassuring as his body.

“Sam, you have to go to the drug store and get me that stuff to clean me out. You’d better get a scented candle too.”

“Maybe I should go to a bar for a few hours.”

“Good idea Sam. That would be very supportive of you.”

“That was a joke China. Anything else you need?”

“No. Why don’t you go somewhere for dinner? Maybe your Mom would like to join you. I don’t want to torture myself watching you eat.”

“I’ll eat alone. You don’t want my mother butting in right now, do you?”

“No!” exclaimed China quickly. “Don’t tell anyone until after the operation. I’ll call Jane now and then I’ll call Sarah. That’s it. I don’t want anyone else to know.”

Sam left and China called her daughter, who was waiting to hear the news.

“Hi, my beauty,” said China.

“Mom! What did the doctor say?” asked Jane quickly.

“They don’t know if it’s a cyst or a tumour but they have to operate to find out.”

“A tumour?”

“Don’t panic Jane. I’m sure it isn’t, but whatever it is, it’s big and it’s got to come out. They’ll do the hysterectomy at the same time. Wasn’t it clever of me to wait for the cyst so I wouldn’t have to have two operations?”

“You’re being silly. Do you want me to come?”

“No, sweetie. Sam is here, at least for a couple of days. You can’t afford the trip and we can’t pay for it either. And what about Tina? No, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Mom, why do you have to live so far away?” cried Jane miserably.

“I won’t be for much longer. We’re moving to Halifax.”

“You are? When?”

“It’s a new decision. I’ll talk to you about it later. Right now I’ve got other things on my mind.”

“Tell Sam to call me right after the operation.”

“You’re first on the list.”

“I love you Mom,” said Jane. China could hear the tears in her voice.

“I love you too, sweetie. I’ll talk to you as soon as the anesthetic wears off.”

China hung the phone up very gently and sobbed into her pillow. She knew that Jane was crying too, holding a pillow to her belly, the way she always cried, ever since she was old enough to hold a pillow. China wiped her face, drank a tall glass of cold water, and enjoyed every drop since it was her last for a while. Then she called Sarah who listened quietly.

BOOK: Liar
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