TT Never Learned

It was late in the evening on a Thursday, and I was still at work in the detox facility. I am the owner of the business. It is a detox treatment facility for females and their children who suffer from addiction. I was cleaning for the holiday season and in the

middle of decluttering the donation closets at my work, my phone rang. I

thought to myself: “I hate cell phones where are the good old times?” The phone

call from Spence was anything but pleasant. Mt friend TT was laying on her

death bed. This call came so unexpected that dropped the clothing which I held

onto the floor, my fingers tightened around the phone so that my knuckles

turned white, and gasped: “No way, what happened,” I spoke with a tremoring

voice, and my friend Spence said: “She is not going to make it. I wanted you to

know because I know that there are things she had told you a long time ago. She

told me y'all had a secret. I asked her if she wanted you to come visit, and

she blinked her eyes. You know, Cee, since yesterday she can no longer talk,

and she is hanging on. TT has stomach cancer, in the last stages. Yesterday she

was still speaking to us, today she is in a coma since the last two hours.” I

walked to the couch and let myself fall back onto it. Leaning back and starring

at the wall I said: “Ok let me finish here and I will be there in a little

while. Looks like it will be closer to nine. Can you please send the location

to me.” Spence answered: “I will, I can't keep talking now. I go back inside

the hospital room, just be aware that there are some people around here. They

know nothing about your friendship with TT. These people have no idea that she

and you kept communicating until Marvin died. I am the only person she has told

right before she slipped into this coma that she wanted to see you. TT advised

me to make sure to call you to her deathbed in case she would not make it.” I

listened quietly to Spence and began to cry. TT and I had secretly communicated

for years, and I had held her dark secret dear to my heart. Right after her son

Marvin was found murdered, she and I stopped communicating. TT was doing well;

I was told by Spence about a year ago. Her life was improving by leaps and

bounds as soon as she let go of her secret moved away from Los Angeles and

re-established herself in Northern California her life seemed peaceful. Years

prior to Marvins death, I had assured TT that she always did the best she could

and that she loved her son as much as she could. Then then to be expected

happen, which was Marvin's death.

Three years ago, a

late-night call from TT had woken me up in the most unpleasant way possible,

right out of my sleep. TT, on the other line was hysterically mumbling between

heart wrenching sobs and blowing her nose. The only words I could make out were,

that Marvin was dead, and it was horrible. He was found shot at the bottom

of a hill in Northern California. I felt the icy breath of looming doom upon my

back, when I received this call from TT. Goosebumps developed on my forearms

and tears welled up in my eyes rolling down my cheeks. I tasted the salty tears

on my lips. “Oh, how much I disliked that taste.” I knew this day would come

rather sooner than later. TT chose to stay, in denial about her only child’s

unusual behavior and activities. In all the time TT and I knew each other we

were dealing with her son’s secret. I have not heard her hysterical, like now,

in a long time. Matter of fact I was not able to recall she ever had spoken

this discombobulated. TT spoke loud and erratic that night, three years

ago. Nothing she said made sense. She was crying and I heard her spit, then

blow her nose all while talking incessantly. I said forcefully to her:” Stop

TT, take a breath, blow your nose, focus on one thought and tell me just in a

few words what is going on. I do not understand one word you are saying right

now. Stay in the moment, ground yourself, tell me what you are seeing right now

and what do you wear. Breath TT just breath.” I had a way of using

grounding techniques because I needed this skill at work on a day-to-day basis.

My response to her

hysteria, made TT take a deep breath, I heard a rustle come through the phone.

She was breathing fast while still holding too much saliva in her mouth from

all the crying. I heard TT, swallow and say: “He was shot in the face, they shot

his face off, I am here with the police in Nappa valley. They did not let me

look at him, but they found his driver’s license on his body and from the

picture the coroner showed me it is my son. They only showed me his body and

the shoes he wore on a picture so I could at least make a statement that this

could be my son. The police said that the dental records and DNA test will

prove the rest. They said they must clean up his face as much as possible

before they can even let me see him. It might not be possible to reconstruct

his face at all. I cannot even positively identify my son by looking at his

face. He is dead Cee; He was killed brutally killed my poor baby. My one and

only child, My son. My Marvin.” She began to cry again and hung up the phone.

I remember sitting in

the living room for a while. I do not know for how long I sat there starring

out the window of my Log Cabin. Inside I had the fireplace lit, and the wood

made a comforting crackling sound. It was snowing outside. My Log Cabin had a large

window front facing a lake. Looking out the window, I saw the stars and the

moon in a dark almost purple looking night sky and the water of the lake was

illuminated by the moonlight. The moonlight was glistening in the water of the

lake, and I saw the water move in light waves from the wind. My dog had come

over to sit with me on the couch and he pressed his little warm furry body

against my thigh. All I could think of was: “Thank God I made a permanent

change. Thank God I got a money blessing and moved away from California to

Oregon. It was bad in California for me who was a native of Austria.

Frequenting in Beverly Hills or the streets of Los Angeles, I learned, the

location did not matter. It was the people in any place which made a difference

one way or another. My perception people of people in "Cali" was that

they were unkind, greedy, and had no common sense. I always thought and

even told people: “Matter of fact common sense is not that common at all.” Left

with my thoughts and feelings sitting on my couch, late at night, with my dog,

a deep sadness overcame me. The loss of a young man’s life, a mom who could not

“hold water,” I was reminiscing how I had to excuse myself from that close

friendship. At last I had decided to keep prayers and good wishes for TT and

the friendship at a distance. There was no way that I was engaging with all

that old drama any longer. The proof was in the "pudding" after

tonight's late night traumatic phone call. I went back to bed, my dog

smuggled next to me and off to sleep we both went. My last thought was: "I

know that TT will call me in the morning to tell me the rest of the story. I am

not sure that I am interested but I will tolerate the conversation one last

time."

As expected at seven in

the morning the phone rang. It was TT, now speaking lower and much calmer: “I

am staying up here in Nappa, with family Cee. I will not go back to Los Angeles

at all. I will bury my son up here where he was born and where he had a great

childhood. Now I wish I had never taken him down to that city. The city of lost

angles for real. People in Los Angeles become insane and they get lost in that

city’s evil energy. Nobody seems to care about anything there. Most people run

around all day and all night to just pay the rent. It is not worth it.” I let

her talk and did not interrupt. In this conversation unlike the night before,

TT seemed to have collected her thoughts and slowed her emotions all the way

down. At least she was not crying hysterically, and I could listen and hear

what she was telling me over the phone. After I heard TT take a deep breath,

indicating she was done talking, I said: “Good, this seems to be an idea that

you had spoken about a while back. Just remember to keep healthy boundaries

with people. Most people are as nice as they make up their minds to be. We are

powerless over other people and what they do and say, so lets move forward

focusing on our self. Unfortunately, TT, we both also were powerless over

having a good influence on your son Marvin. Often, I think back, and I wish he

had stayed in College in Boston. For a while he was doing so well.” TT was

quiet on the other end of the line. It seemed like a very long silence, then

heard TT say: “I hear you,” that’s when I looked at my watch. More than a

minute had passed. “What this was just a minute of silence," I thought,

because it had seemed like eternity. TT continued: “Marvin was my only child,

and I was too lenient with him when he grew up. However, he was old enough to

know wrong from right when he engaged with these people he called his friends.

I had several conversations with him regarding his relations with that girl,

Rosi too. She was no good, only pretty and her parents were rich. Marvin

knew that what had happened with Rosi was not going to fade away. Marvin knew

that he needed to stay away and set healthy boundaries with Rosi and the people

he called his friends. Well then, this horrible night at that party he went to

and what had happened to Rosi. Well, we will never know the entire truth.

Nobody ever knew about that night, the party, Rosi and those friends. Well, I

guess it’s over and you and I will live with Marvin’s secret. He most likely

died for it.”

After a long silence I

replied: “Yup so it is. I would never have spoken about it. You and I had only

had a few phone conversations since that horrible accident with Rosi a month

ago. Also, the autopsy of Rosi did not show anything specific. Marvin and his

friends could not have told the truth as they were all way too intoxicated.

They will not remember, and we will never know, I guess. You and I did

everything that could have been done. We did what was asked of a law-abiding

citizen. The law does not require a person to volunteer extras.” TT began

crying again. I could hear her blow her nose and spit, then say: “So long Cee,”

and she hung up the phone. This was the last phone conversation TT and the last

contact with TT in three years.

It was not until today,

three years later since Marvin’s death and that traumatic phone call from TT,

about her son's homicide, that I heard of her whereabouts. Spence’s phone call

this evening, that she was on her deathbed was shocking. This was a surprising

development in TT's life journey. After I have finished cleaning my business

and my clients are back in their rooms, I will advise the evening staff that I

am leaving early to go to see my friend TT one last time. There is really no

reason to hurry. TT is going to be with her son, Marvin. I know that she missed

him all these years. Even though I did not keep our communication, and I did

not reach out to TT, after Marvin’s death, I always prayed that she could

create a healthy life for herself. My night crew arrived at the detox center, a

little early. I asked them to take over shift because I had to leave

immediately. On my way to the hospital, I called Spence, and I said: “Hey doll,

I be there in thirty minutes. Can you please make sure that I have alone time

with her.” Spence promised he would let the other visitors know that I

requested alone time. I arrived as promised in thirty minutes and upon parking

called Spence: “Hey Spence I am walking to the elevator right now. Please let

people know I just want ten minutes with TT in the room. I am not in the mood

to chat with anybody. I am here to say goodbye.” I heard Spence, on the other

line, advising everybody to leave the room. I stepped onto the elevator, and we

went up. The elevator tinge made me aware that I was on the floor of TT’s room.

I got off the lift and walked down the long hospital corridor. Walking to TT’s

room I was looking at the lights outside the large windows of the hospital into

the dark outside. I came around the corner of the eleventh floor just when the

other visitors, led by Spencer, walked out of TT’s hospital room. I walked up

to Spence gave him a hug and said: “Thanks bud. TT’s hospital room number is

one-eighty-seven? Pretty inappropriate room number.” Spence looked at me with

big eyes raising his eyebrows. He shook his head and said: “I have no idea what

is wrong with that number.”

Here is where I

explained and simply stated: "The 187 police code in the language of

the law refers to the California Penal Code section for murder. When a

police officer says “187”, he is indicating a homicide or murder especially

when he is on his radio. This code is used across police radios when cops are

on their beat, and they encounter someone who was possibly murdered. It is

legal and professional communications to efficiently report murders and

homicides amongst government officials.” Spencer looked confused at me and shook

his head.

I passed Spence and

entered TT’s room. She was lying on her bed, frail and unconscious just like

Spence had told me. Tubes were in her right arm, hooked to an IV fluid bag and

the breathing tube was stuck over her mouth and nose. She was no longer able to

move or respond. I walked up to her left side and stood by the bed for a while

looking at her frail face. Her cheekbones were sticking out like two spiky

triangles and her jawbones seemed to suck her face down to her chest. Tears welled

up in my eyes. I reached for the hand lotion in my bag, and I took TT’s left

hand, which was without tubing. I said: “I brought your favorite hand lotion;

its Nivea, I always carry container with me. I will massage your fingers the

way you like it. You know TT I always love you. I had to love you from a

distance.” Suddenly I heard a gurgling sound. I abruptly, let go of her hand

and walked around the bed to her right side to see her face. I grabbed her

right hand, and TT had opened her eyes, staring at me. I looked into those

beautiful deep blue eyes and for a moment it felt as though I was looking at

the depth of a dark blue lake. There was a shimmer, a wave in these eyes. It

reminded me of something I had seen not too long ago. TT’s eyes sparked looking

at mine and I thought: “Her eyes spark with serenity and acceptance.” Then TT

closed her eyes, and I let go of her hand. The breathing machine took once

again over TT’s breathing and her eyes were closed tightly. I looked at TT’s

face and saw that something about her face had changed. I leaned over her

breathing tube very close to her face and moved slowly up to her forehead and

gave it a kiss. Then ever so slowly, I moved my face downward from her

forehead, keeping close, moving to her right ear. I stopped right by the right

ear and whispered: “Rosi stays our secret tell Marvin when you see him in

heaven.” I looked at TT’s face, keeping proximity with my face and I saw that

her face now had relaxed completely. “It’s like in yoga,” came to mind. I looked

one more time at her face and saw that TT smiled, or was that just my

imagination? I paused for a fleeting moment and then moved my body back into an

upright position and walked around the front of the bed to the left side of the

bed. Still holding on to the small jar of nivea and decided to put it into TT’s

left palm. I took one more look at her face and said: “So long TT,” turned

around on my heels and quickly walked out of the room. Spence and the other

visitors were waiting right outside the door of the room. I looked at them and

said: “Thank you for letting me say goodbye.” With that I turned around and

walked away, down the endless long corridor, with its large windows, the eyes

to the outside world. When I came to the elevator, I pushed the button to go

down. Suddenly, I heard some commotion coming in the direction of TT’s room. I

turned around to look down at the corridor in the direction of room

one-eighty-seven, and I saw nursing staff run to the room, then I heard staff

calling a code. Still starring down the hospital corridor, I thought: “TT has

left the building,” good for her. The tinge of the elevator brought me back to

the present. I swirled back around facing the elevator door and stepped onto

the lift. A man on the elevator asked: “Are you going to street level?” I

looked into the man’s eyes and smilingly replied: “Absolutely not, not without

TT, but I am going to Mezzanine if that is where this elevator will take me.”