The Willow Tree: A Novel (12 page)

             in time a nurse came in and gave Maria an injection and soon her eyes were closing, mostly quiet, though mumbling from time to time, an occasional shudder going through her body as unused tears and fear worked themselves free; and Isabella and her mother continued to sit, touching Maria and praying, the shock continuing to wear off as they continued to reassure each other that their little girl was fine and would soon be home with them, just like they had seen in that television story when someone threw something in a womans face and she looked just as pretty as ever.

Moishe examined Bobbys face very carefully and thoroughly, then expertly took the butterfly bandage off the smaller cut. He gently touched the area around the cut….So—pursing his lips slightly—is looking very good, should heal without a scar…well, maybe a little one to make you look mysterious.

Bobby laughed, Mysterious? Mush, you really be somethin else.

Moishe laughed, totally absorbed by the smile on Bobbys face and the sound of laughter in his voice, Well, maybe its being a dueling scar…very important.

Dueling scar, now what the fuck you be talkin about?

Moishe replied with another burst of laugher and shook his head, Forget, forget. Something from old country.

Bobby shook his head at Moishe, smiling. Moishe stopped laughing and took a deep breath. So…now the big one. Moishe worked a corner of the bandage loose, then started slowly peeling the tape off. He knew it would be easier to just pull it off, but he wanted to be certain he didnt do any damage. When he finished he cleaned up both areas, and rubbed them with salve, then looked at Bobby and smiled, So…couldnt be better if I knew what I was doing—and he laughed with mirth and a great sense of relief and gratitude that the cuts had healed, that his simple ministrations were effective and Bobby did not get any serious infections because Moishe did not know what he would have done if he had because he knew Bobby would not go to a hospital and he would have been powerless to help him and now all the tension that had built up over these days, 7, 8, however many it was, suddenly poured from him with laughter and his legs actually felt weak with relief, but it was okay because the cuts were healing fine, just fine, and the salve would help them continue to heal and Bobby wouldnt have a scar on his cheek, maybe only a thin, small line like he said and he felt like he should sing or dance or do something so he raised his right hand and said, Right on already, and held out his hand and he and Bobby gave each other five and Bobby shook his head and once again laughed so hard tears rolled from his eyes, Damn if you aint the craziest muthafucka I ever see—shaking his head—Damn…and the laughter continued until Bobby had to stop because his head was hurting, so Moishe forced himself to stop and they went to the kitchen.

Moishe finally forced himself to silence while they ate the ice cream, and when they finished Bobby got up to look in the mirror. He examined his face as carefully as possible, Moishe watching over Bobbys shoulder, his expression becoming more and more filled with amazement, Damn Mush, you be a regular croaker. That be a hell of a job you be doin. Guess it be cool to go see the moms an Maria. Course I aint seen it before, but I sure be knowin what it feel like. Look like it being stayin fixed too….damn, you sure be one righteous dude Mush.

Moishes smile was like a 250 watt bulb, Ya….Dr. Werner Schultz.

Bobby turned and looked at him, Who he?

Moishe tapped himself on the chest, Me…my name is Werner Schultz.

Then what the fuck all this Mushie shit be about?

Moishe took a deep breath and suddenly the beaming smile was replaced with a sense of nostalgia and grief, Its like what you call nickname…ahh…honorary title.

Werner Schultz. Sheeit, sure dont see no Mushie in that.

Moishe smiled gently and was quiet for a moment…Youre wanting to rest?

Naa, I doan think so Mush.

They sat around the table holding a large puzzle about half put together, Bobby almost instantly grabbing a piece and attaching it to another, See that Mush, key piece, even you be able to finish it now—and Bobby chuckled continuing to look at the pieces for a moment, then looked at Moishe, a simple expression of deep respect on his face, So howd you get Mushie??? with the tattoo?

Moishe blinked inspite of himself and stared at Bobby for a moment, Ya…ya—nodding his head—The tattoo…How you know?

O, I be digginya Mush—shrugging—I see how you be sometime and how you be lookin. No big thing.

Moishe smiled with delight, inwardly amazed at how bright Bobby was, or as he would say, hip.

You say sometime you be tellin me about that constration camp thing—a gentle smile on his face as he once again shrugged—seem like this be a good time. Whach you think????

Moishe looked up at the ceiling for a moment wondering if he had the courage to relive it, to reach back to the agony it would resurrect, but he had already given this possibility as much thought as he could and now it was right in front of him and no reason came to mind to deny telling Bobby the story, it seeming almost natural that it be told to him, now, and that it would be alright, that somehow, for some reason it would be safe. Yet he continued to try and find a reason, any reason, good or otherwise, acceptable or otherwise, but nothing came to mind and the only thing he could see, even as he looked up to the ceiling, closing his eyes from time to time, was Bobbys smiling face and the gentleness and belief in his eyes, the simple honesty behind that smile. Eventually he breathed deeply, exhaled slowly and loudly, and looked at Bobby, So…we go to the living room.

Maria felt crushed by the sudden quiet. Mommy and grandmother had gone, the dinner trays had been collected, the shifts had changed, and the sudden lack of activity brought a silence that crushed the cells in Marias body and she seemed to disappear into the bed, just the merest and faintest outline, felt more than seen under the sheet. The silence and pressure it brought seemed to rage at Maria, demanding to know why she was like dirt, demanding to know what she had done, the questions being twisted through her mind as if they would scoop out the entire contents of her skull and there would remain just bone, not a hint of flesh or brain or blood but only a thin layer of bone that was rapidly turning black from the inside out and soon whatever was left of Maria would be black, and if she looked in the mirror, and still had eyes to see, she would see only blackness inside her skull and her entire body. The darkness outside the window seemed to increase with every breath she took, seemed to be oozing through the window and down the wall and across the floor, disappearing under her bed, but she knew it was crawling up her bed and the blackness would consume her from the outside as well as the inside, (the woman in the bed next to her blinked her eyes and frowned wondering if Maria was really in the bed, her shape being so vague, almost as if the mattress was enveloping her, and she stared for a few moments before clearly seeing Marias bandages and knowing she was there, then went back to sleep) and Maria stared at the lines in the ceiling as they moved and floated and spread and overlapped and seemed to disappear into each other and she felt her arms trembling as she clutched the covers watching the darkness descend upon the room and her, trying to will the light from the hall to push back the darkness as long as possible because she knew with the darkness would come the terrible awful pain on her face and from some terrible place inside her would come that scary voice telling her how bad she is and no matter what she said to herself the voice would convince her she was bad, bad because she must be bad to be so ugly, to have such a terrible thing happen to her, things like this just dont happen to nice people…decent people…and she didnt know why god didnt help her or the baby jesus let her know what she did so she could confess and do an act of contrition but the darkness would, in time, become heavy, so terribly heavy she wouldnt be able to breathe and she would feel it crush her and she would really know, really and truly know she was bad and mommy wouldnt be there to help her and she would be all alone, just hanging in the darkness waiting to be thrown into an even darker hole but she wouldnt know when it was going to happen, it would just happen and she clutched the covers tighter and tighter until the pain in her muscles forced her to relax, at least a little, and she knew if she could just be good enough she would be alright, that the baby jesus and Mary would save her but she didnt know how to be good enough and now the bed under her back was starting to press on her spine and the many little lumps and bumps that came with the night started jamming themselves into her back and her throat rattled with moans of pain but her mouth remained clamped shut, teeth and jaw clenched to cracking, but maybe the nurse would be in soon and put that medicine in her arm and she would sleep or maybe she should push the bell and ask but she couldnt unclench her fists, could not let go of the covers, could not move a finger no less all of her arm to reach out to the button but maybe she wasnt supposed to push the button, maybe she is being punished for pushing her baby brother down that time and he cut his lip a little and cried and cried and mommy got all upset and started yelling but she didnt mean to hurt him, not really
hurt
him, she only wanted to get her crayon back so she could finish coloring in her book and she was really sorry she scared him so much and made his mouth bleed like that but Im sorry, dear baby jesus Im sorry, I promise I/ll never do that again, honest, I promise, I know I did that to the cat, I know he screeched when I pulled his tail and Im sorry Im such a bad girl O please forgive me, please dont send me to hell I dont want to burn O baby jesus wheres my mommy O I know its too late for mommy that a whole black night has to go but I dont want to burn, please, please dont send me to be burned…but Im really sorry, honest to god, cross my heart and hope to the sorry…but I/ll be good really I will, I/ll be good…yes, yes, I/ll go to confession and say hail marys every night and I/ll be good—her face getting warmer and hotter, feeling as if someone was pouring hot oil over it, the fumes from her burning flesh singeing her nose and still the nurse didnt come and she thought again of moving her hand to ring the bell but it wouldnt move, feeling nailed to the bed and no matter how hard she thought she couldnt unpin it or ask the woman in the next bed to ring her bell or even cry out loud, all she could do was allow herself to be swallowed up by the darkness and allow it to squeeze her and squeeze her until all her bones felt like they would splinter and snap and her face got hotter and now all of her body was getting hotter and her crying grew louder and louder yet no sound came out of her mouth, her tears simply screaming in her head and seeming to fuel the fires that burned her face and the rest of her body and she promised to never do it with Bobby anymore but still the flames continued to consume her and it felt like all her body was trembling with tears and moans and she was so hot she felt like she was over a fire and her skin would burst open like a potato and still no sound would come from her lips and suddenly she started breathing again and got dizzy with the first rush of air yet still the nurse hadnt come in the room and her face and body were being consumed by the flames, burned to a painful pile of dirt and her breath was cut off and she could no longer plead or beg for mercy and her eyes were staring as wide as they could, seeing the edge of the bandage outlining the darkness of the room and as if from a far-away place she heard her voice saying she didnt know why she was so bad but she would be good, she honest to god would be a good girl and she swore on her heart that for ever and ever she would be a good girl and she felt the hint of a cool breeze on her face and felt her body being elevated and seeming to float above the bed as she slowly slid down the side and stood for a moment against the bed, her body still stiff, but now she knew how to cool it, how to get away from the flames that tormented her and she walked without sound across the room, not seeing, moving stiffly but easily, touching nothing, knocking into nothing, eyes closing for long moments at a time, until she stopped and stood for a moment, just a moment, by the open window, pushing it up as far as it would go, almost crying with relief as she felt the cool air penetrate the bandages, cooling her face and all her body almost instantly, the flames gone, totally gone as was the smell of her burning flesh and all she could feel was the cool, refreshing air and the smell of trees and flowers and she stood for a moment, one little breath of time, then sat on the sill and reached out and bathed her arms and face in the cool, flowing air…reaching deeper and deeper into the soft, cool wondrous air, leaning over the sill waving her arms, feeling an almost forgotten happiness flowing through mind and body, feeling like a little girl twirling around in a light summer shower, feeling like all the hugs and kisses in the world, reaching further and further into the comfort of the air that made her feel so alive, her body slowly rolling over the edge….

             then starting the descent through the cool refreshing air, feeling an exquisite ecstasy as she floated free of the flames and ugliness….

                  and all was quiet, even the air rushing past her silent, the streets below tranquil, and most blessed of all was the quietness in her head…no screams of pain and anguish, no defending against the onslaught of demons too many in number and fury to be defended against, just simple, peaceful quiet, so happy to know that the flames were out, that she wouldnt have to spend eternity in hell, that the baby jesus had forgiven her for being so ugly and bad like dirt and she would sing a song to him, she promised, she would sing a song to him, all she wanted to do was sing and sing and sing…now and forever….

Moishe sat in his chair, hands tented against his lips, staring in front of him for many minutes, Bobby sitting a few feet away, quiet, watching, waiting, then Moishe tapped his mouth with his hands and lowered them and adjusted himself in the chair, So—looking at Bobby—the tattoo…ya, the tattoo….They continued looking at each other, but Moishe was obviously also looking past Bobby, past his apartment, past the Bronx….Bobby watching Moishes face, mostly his eyes, knowing Moishe was gettin some things sorted out, doing his thing like he always do, and he just leaned forward, arms resting on thighs, looking at Moishe, occasionally blinking his eyes, not wanting to rush him but giveim his space….