The Back Building (25 page)

“All right, let me call Marlin and see if she is free next week.” Truthfully, I wanted the break. I didn’t enjoy long car rides anymore, but the beach and fresh ocean air could be reviving. I spent so much time focused on Jenna and Camille that I wasn’t taking care of myself the way I should be. I had gained fifteen pounds over the course of six months and worried about my sugar levels. I had pre-diabetes and needed to take a time out.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Marlin

I packed a small bag for my trip to Maine. I was sure to include both of the photographs that included the baby boy in question. I hoped Marlin might have some insight as to who the woman holding him in the picture could be. I loaded my car with snacks and country music CDs and set off.

I hated leaving Camille alone, but thought she might enjoy some time to herself. We rarely, if ever, fought, but still it was nice to have the house all to yourself once in a while.

My drive was tedious, but when I crossed into the state of Maine my hear fluttered. Maine was our vacation destination as children. My parents and their siblings would rent a small house a few blocks from the beach for two weeks every summer. During the stay, the cousins were able to form lasting bonds and the parents were able to unwind.

I rolled down my driver-side window and inhaled the salty sea air. Memories of scavenger hunts and long walks on the beach came flooding back to me. I was known as the family beachcomber, I spent hours every morning scouring the beach for sand dollars or sea glass. I still had my sea glass collection displayed in my apartment.

I arrived at Marlin’s home in York already feeling refreshed by the change of scenery. She made a fresh pot of seafood chowder because she knew it was my favorite. We ate our fill and caught each other up on family news. I explained to her in greater detail what was happening with Jenna and she was very saddened by our situation. Marlin never had biological children of her own, but could only imagine our distress. Marlin’s brother, whom we fondly called Davey, had two boys, David Junior and Matthew. They each had two kids of their own. It was David Juniors son, Noah, that had his share of issues. Yet until now, I didn’t understand their depth. Marlin explained to me that when Noah was seventeen years old he had horrible mood swings. They blamed the hormones initially, but then they realized he was dealing with a deeper issue. He was diagnosed with bi-polar depression.

“Was he treated as an out-patient?” I asked Marlin about her nephew.

“Yes, he was initially.” Marlin cleared her throat before continuing.

“Uh-oh,” I commented.

“He had an incident, where he was manic and uncontrollable. He was a danger to himself so he was admitted against his will. It was awful. Eventually, they fine-tuned his medications and he was sent home. I don’t see a lot of him, but I think he still struggles. If Davey were alive to see it, he would be beside himself. He loved his boys with all his heart and wanted nothing but the best for them.

“That’s what we all want. Camille is on medication now for anxiety. I mean what is this world coming to? They didn’t have all this medication back when Iona was at Willard.”

“No, they didn’t. Back then they just took out a part of patient’s brains and crossed their fingers for the best.”

“Can you imagine?” I asked.

“I can’t. Oh, goodness, I almost forgot to show you this. Hold on...”

Marlin disappeared but when she came walking back into the kitchen she had a drawing of Hetty. It was different from the one that hung in my house growing up, but it was Hetty alright. She had a very distinct look, those apple shaped cheeks, the full face, double chin, dimple, and ample bosom couldn’t be mistaken.

“Wow, that’s different from mine. Yours is even labeled.” At the bottom of the drawing Hetty’s name was spelled out.

“Iona was able to live with her demons, so why can’t the rest of the world?”

“Well, Jenna simply can’t. She isn’t capable half the time.” I grew misty thinking of my granddaughter and explained to Marlin the lengths that I was going to in order to obtain Iona’s medical records. I also told her about the traveling suitcase exhibit and she thought that sounded rather interesting.

“The exhibit is in Ithaca next week. I have already contacted the gentleman who took the photographs and he has agreed to meet with me before his presentation.”

“That could be very productive. It would be incredible to think Iona’s suitcase could be among those found.”

“I don’t want to get my hopes up, but that would be insightful to say the least.”

Marlin and I pulled out the trunk she had inherited from her father, Daniel, who was Iona’s youngest son. She admitted it had been stored in her attic for over twenty years now and that she had never taken the time to go through it. The contents were musty and irrelevant at the time. Now, however, the case was important, so we started taking the items from the trunk one at a time. In it we found more photos of the mystery woman. She was always frazzled looking and always wore an unappealing, droopy grey dress with numbers on the pocket.

“Do you think she was an inmate somewhere?” Marlin asked.

“I’m not sure. Why else would she have numbers on her pocket?”

“Do you suppose patients had numbers to identify them? I mean, you have to admit she looks like a patient. She is so dazed and frail, sort of cuckoo if you know what I mean,” Marlin stated.

Looking at the photos I did know what she meant. The woman held the baby at length, like she was frightened of hurting him. She had the beginnings of a smile in one picture, but in all the others she was stoic and defeated. Her hair indeed looked red in some of the photographs and it was always unkempt and knotted.

We continued to paw through the trunk and came upon a stack of letters. The letters were fading but with a magnifier we could make them out.

The correspondence seemed to be between three women. We could easily make out Iona’s name and were able to recognize her penmanship. We determined that another author of the letters was from a woman who claimed to be the godmother to the baby, Daniel. Her name was Jennifer and we questioned whether or not she was related. Finally, the last woman who had letters in the stack was named Cat. We presumed Cat was the frazzled woman in the photographs because her notepaper was stock paper, not stationery. We coded the letters and then arranged them chronologically. Marlin took half of the letters to read and I took what was left and we relayed our findings to one another.

“Holy smokes,” I said after reading one of the letters in my group.

“What?” Marlin asked.

“Sit down. I don’t know how to tell you this cousin, but if what I just read is accurate then we aren’t biologically related.” I put the magnifying glass on the table and sipped my tea. I stared into the distance trying to make sense of what I’d just uncovered.

“What on earth are you talking about, of course we’re related.”

“According to these letters, this Cat woman, the frazzled looking one, is Daniel’s biological mother. It appears that Iona adopted him because Cat was in trouble with the law. There are references to stealing horses, and even murder.” I put my hand across my mouth and chewed my bottom lip. It was all making sense.

“Oh my,” Marlin said, sipping her tea beside me.

“I recognize this Jennifer woman. We have a picture of her at home. She is standing with Iona and her family. They look to be very close, but I still don’t think they are related. They look nothing alike and we know it isn’t her mother. We have photos of her mother so that is certain. In the letters Jennifer refers to Daniel as her godson. ‘I am taking good care of my godson…’ she says right here. I pointed to the place in the letter where Jennifer made the claim.

Marlin held the magnifying lens to the letter and surely it indicated that Jennifer was Daniel’s godmother. It made sense too that Daniel was Cat’s son, they were the only two with red hair in the family.

“Which explains a bit about my nephew’s illness, he has a great-grandmother with mental illness too. My God.”

“My God is right.”

“I am going with you to the suitcase exhibit. Maybe this Cat woman has her belongings there too. If she does, they would rightfully belong to me. I mean, that would make her my grandmother.”

I reached across the table and held tight to Marlin’s hand, we would find the answers together.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Hanging by a Thread

Marlin and I walked along Wells Beach from the public walkway down to the jetty. It was about one mile each way and felt invigorating. Just walking along the ocean was restorative. It always served to remind me how small we were in comparison to the world. That something larger was at work, and that while life wasn’t always fair, it was beautiful if we knew where to look. Just then I saw a glimmer in front of me, I bent over to pick it up and sure enough it was a blue piece of sea glass. I held the treasure and took a deep breath, for the road ahead was long.

Marlin packed and prepared to drive home with me. She would stay at my apartment where there was plenty of room for her to spread out. I called Camille ahead of time to prepare her and Helen, but Jenna was still an in-patient so we didn’t have to worry about that.

I was getting anxious to be home, Camille had something to discuss with me but she didn’t want to do it over the phone. I knew there was no change in Jenna’s condition and wondered if the doctor wanted to increase her shock therapy.

The drive was smooth and we were home by mid-afternoon. Marlin hugged Camille and Helen tightly and when the group broke apart there were tears all around. We sat down together and told the girls about our discovery. They were saddened and surprised to learn that Marlin wasn’t our biological relative, but we decided collectively that we were family regardless. If anything, the discovery brought us closer together. Helen drove Marlin to my apartment giving me time to catch up with my daughter.

“How is she?” I asked, sitting down with my daughter.

“She is the same, Mom. The ECT is not going as well as Dr. Saul hoped it would. She hasn’t had any incidents, but she isn’t markedly improved either.”

“It’s only been a few days though so what does that mean, where do we go from here?” I asked.

“He brought up the idea of a half-way house. He said there are several in Syracuse that would fit Jenna’s needs well. The cost of keeping her at Hutchings is just too much, and our insurance might cover the halfway house. I just don’t know though, Mom. I would prefer her to be here being taken care of by people who love her. I just can’t imagine her being happy among multiple caregivers who care more about a paycheck than the patient.”

“Well, you can’t say that would be true for all the care-givers. I am one hundred percent certain that Dr. Saul would not release her into the care of anyone that wasn’t qualified.”

“I know. I trust his judgment, I really do. It’s just hard.”

“What I want to know is how you are doing? How is Camille?”

“I am hanging on by a thread, Mom and that’s about all I can muster. I am just so sad for what my daughter is missing out on, and for what I am missing out on. I mean there was a school dance this week. If none of this had happened, we would have spent the week shopping and getting her all dolled up. Instead she is facing ECT treatments and living in a room with cinder blocks for walls,” my daughter admitted through her tears.

“All we can do is have faith. Let’s not give up yet, she may still be able to go to a dance in high school. Okay?” I pleaded, wiping her eyes with my sleeves.

“Okay.” Camille answered leaning into me for a hug.

We were interrupted by a phone call coming from Hutchings. It was Dr. Saul and he wanted to let us know that he received a package from the Office of Mental Health in Binghamton, New York. Iona’s medical records had been unearthed at long last. They were sent to him directly because of the HIPAA laws that stated even though a patient was deceased, they still retained the right to patient confidentiality.

“Oh my goodness, it’s the medical records. They are finally here,” I said, holding Camille’s hands in my own.

Chapter Twenty-Six

More Medical Records

“Her attending physician was a man by the name of Dr. Macy. It says that Iona became a patient in the year 1915 at the age of fifteen years old. She is initially described as being a frightened, malnourished, yet educated young woman with severe mental disturbances. For instance, upon her admittance she had a shaved head and was described by her parents as being unruly. After numerous psychotherapy appointments, she is diagnosed as having delusions of grandeur as well as having obsessive compulsive disorder. The doctor had noted that Iona’s delusions had names, the first being Hetty. The second delusion was Rose Mary who Iona believed was another patient on her ward, although the notes indicate there was no such person. The documents detail Iona’s obsession with counting and they detail the therapies she was treated with, namely the hydrotherapy baths. The hydrotherapy is notated as working to calm Iona’s nerves. The notes state that she was involved, or had several scuffles with, another patient that ultimately got her placed on different ward, one that was more strict.” Dr. Saul shuffled the papers and adjusted his glasses before continuing.