Chapter 40 of No Guarantees

Josie went to work as usual on Monday morning. Although she was a person who found comfort in the predictable rhythm of life, today she felt irritated and bored with her life. She felt stuck at Casey’s without any alternative. She was going to have to divorce Rod. She didn’t really want to stay on with Casey. Something had to give somewhere in her life.

What she really wanted was a place of her own. She thought about this as she readied her work station for the lunch rush.

The lunch routine was much the same as any other day. She got the customers their beverages and then took their money. Some were chatty; some were quiet. It was all so familiar.

“I was wondering if you still worked here,” said a woman who looked vaguely familiar.

“Yes, I still work here,” replied Josie.

“I came by about a month ago, and I didn’t see you.”

“I was off for several weeks.”

“You don’t remember me, do you?” the woman asked.

“No not really.”

“I gave you a ride into town back in the summer when you were going to walk all that way by yourself. Weren’t you pregnant?”

“Now I remember you. You work with little kids with disabilities, don’t’ you?”

“That’s right. Did you have your baby?”

Josie realized that the lunch line was piling up as she talked with this woman, so she said “I think you better find a seat, and if this line slows up any, I’ll see if I can come by to talk with you.” Josie wasn’t sure she really wanted to talk about her baby, but she remembered this woman as kind and she had enjoyed their conversation during the ride into town.

The lunch line slowed, and Josie asked Diana if she could take a break. She went over to the table where the woman sat.

“Josie, right?” Josie nodded.

“I’m sorry.  have forgotten your name.”

“Susan. So did you have your baby? What did you have?”

Josie took a deep breath, and as she exhaled, she said, “I had a boy. He was stillborn.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Susan reached over to touch Josie’s hand.

Try as she might, Josie could not keep the tears from filling her eyes as her throat tightened. Unable to say anything, she just let her tears fall to the table. Susan passed Josie her napkin. Josie nodded in gratitude and just sat and silently wept.

“Some babies die for a reason.”

Josie swallowed and wiped her eyes and said, “I know the cord was wrapped around his neck. He strangled to death right inside of me.”

“I guess I’m saying that maybe it wasn’t his time to be on earth. Maybe his soul wasn’t ready to be in a body.”

“I suppose that could be it,” Josie said.

“You know there is a little boy where I work who suffered from anoxia at birth.”

“What does that mean?” asked Josie.

“He had a lack of oxygen when he was being born. That might have been the case for your baby too.”

“I don’t know about that,” replied Josie. In her mind she thought about the idea that her baby may not have been good if he had been born alive. She wondered if it was something she had done during her pregnancy that led to his demise. She wasn’t sure what a child with a disability would be like. There had been that one child in her neighborhood when she was a kid. Her mother said he wasn’t right when Josie had asked what was wrong with him.

“Where do you work again?” asked Josie.

“Bright Harbor Home. It’s just off Northern Lights.”

“Can you tell me a little bit more about the place?”

“Sure there’s twenty-four kids who live there. Only one can walk.”

“Wow,” said Josie. “How do the rest of them get around?”

“Most of them don’t, but there is one girl who I just love. She’s as cute as a bug. She scoots herself around on the floor. She can’t talk either, but she can make her wants known. She points and grunts. She squeals when she’s happy and has the funnest laugh I’ve ever heard.”

Josie tried to take in this information as she thought about the kid from her childhood who she never thought was cute, and yet Susan loved this little girl who could neither walk nor talk.

“Do these kids ever get to go outside?” asked Josie.

“Sure. When the weather is nice, we take them out. Most of them lie on blankets. The little girl I told you about, Rachel, she uses a wheelchair.”

“What about the one who can walk?”

“Yeah, he’s fast. Someone has to be with him all the time or he will run away.”

“Run away,” repeated Josie. “Why?”

“Because he can.”

“Wow,” was all Josie had to say.

“You sound like you might be interested. Would you like to come and meet the kids?” They are just kids after all.”

“Meet the kids?” She wondered how you met kids who couldn’t walk or talk, who just lay there.

“You could come to Bright Harbor Home someday; I could introduce you to Rachel and the other kids. You might find it interesting.”

They arranged for Susan to pick up Josie on the next Saturday afternoon and take her to Bright Harbor Home. Josie was not sure what she had gotten herself into. She dressed casually but carefully. She knew a little bit about children since she had babysat quite often when she was in high school. She had several families that she worked for and had grown to love their children. She thought she might be playing with these children, so she dressed in her sneakers and jeans and a bright-colored T-shirt.

Susan had the same old car, a beige Chevy that she had been driving when she gave Josie a ride to work that day last summer. Josie walked out to the car and got in. She had told Casey what she was doing and he had said, “Whatever.”

“Hey there,” said Susan, “are you ready to meet some cute kids?”

“Sure,” said Josie,” can you tell me about them?”

“Well there’s Michael, Bobby, Max, Christopher, Pauli and Rachel. They all live together on one side of the lower level. The home is divided into four sections, two downstairs and two upstairs.”

“Who is the only child who can walk?”

“Bobby. He’s hell on legs.”

“What do you mean?”

“We have to bolt the doors so he can’t open them. Otherwise he’d be out the door running. Before I started working there, he took off his pajamas and ran out the door all the way to the road before anyone even noticed he was gone.”

“Then what happened?” Josie asked.

“He was found in a neighborhood just walking around as naked as a jaybird. One of the neighbors called the police. It’s good that he was found because it was starting to rain. He could’ve died from exposure.”

“He was naked!” she exclaimed. “What do you suppose he was thinking?”

“I don’t think he was thinking at all. He just likes to run. He always takes his clothes off at the home,” she said as she turned her car off Northern Lights Boulevard. They drove along a driveway until they came to a building that looked like a very large family home. The house was painted white with blue trim. Above the front door was a blue plaque that read Bright Harbor Home.

“Here we are,” said Susan. “Are you ready?”

“Sure,” said Josie, uncertain what was behind that door.

Susan used a key to open it. “We keep it locked because it’s so far off the main road. You never can tell who is going to come wandering this way.”

As they stepped into the foyer, Josie was hit by the overpowering odor of human excrement and the failed attempt to mask the smell with some sort of chemical air freshener. She had to collect herself to keep from gagging. At the same time her ears were filed with the sounds of children moaning, squealing, laughing, and crying.

Oh my god, can I handle this?

Susan introduced her to Diane, the nurse who was in her station that day. Susan explained to Josie that Diane or whoever was the nurse on duty that day was the boss. Susan then said that she herself was a nurse’s aide.

“Welcome to Bright Harbor Home,” Diane said in a cheery voice. Her station had a half door and windows around it so that she could see onto the floor. Josie noticed that there was a bolt lock on the door.

Just then a little naked boy ran by with a young woman close behind. That must be Bobby.

The woman came back their way with Bobby in her arms as he kicked and screamed. She was saying to him, “Come on little guy I thought you loved your bath.”

“Not as much as he loves to run,” called out Diane from her station.

“Well,” said Susan, “that was Bobby. Come on and I’ll introduce you to Rachel and her floormates.”

Josie then crossed over the threshold into a place she had never been before, a place that many people may never witness.

The room, although painted in bright colors, had a dreariness about it. The sparse light from the high windows added to the dull feel of the room. The floor was covered with a brown carpet. Josie noticed that there were some well-used stuffed animals and a few baby toys scattered around the room. There was a bathtub and a changing table at one end where Bobby was splashing away in the water. Each of the five children in the room turned to look in her direction. A little blond girl who was kneeling on a low bed squealed happily and held up her hands toward Susan, who went to her, bent down and hugged her. Josie stood and watched silently.

Then Susan said, “This is my friend Josie.”

With this Rachel hopped up and down on her heels and clapped her hands and smiled. Josie waved and said, “Hi Rachel.”

Josie then began to turn around the room as she took in the other faces that looked at her. One was a boy who had jet black hair and deep brown eyes. He also sat on a low bed, only his lower body was twisted to one side as he rested his upper body on his hands.

“That’s Michael,” Susan said. Michael had a long bead of drool coming off his lower lip as he made gurgling sounds. He smiled a large tooth-gapped grin. Susan went up to him and wiped away the saliva with the bib he had around his neck.

Over in the corner there was great splashing and laughing. “Bobby sure does enjoy his bath,” Josie remarked.

“Yeah,” said Susan. “That’s his favorite time of the day.”

The other children in the room were in cribs with the sides up. Their eyes looked at Josie as she wondered what happened to them. How did they get this way? Each of them was twisted or contorted in some abnormal fashion, each different but they all had the same yearning look in their eyes.

Josie felt her chest tighten and her throat constrict as tears well up in her eyes when she looked at each one of them.

Susan went around and said hello. All of them seemed happy to see her as they squeaked or squealed in some way as she approached them. When they left the room Susan called out, “Goodbye. I’ll see you all on Monday,” as she waved her hand.

The next room looked like a round-up with six cribs along three sides of the walls. Over each crib hung a mobile, just like the other room. The same bright colors were on the wall, and the same brown carpet was on the floor. There were no stuffed animals or toys in this room however. A small child was in each crib. These children did not seem to notice that someone was in the room; they just lay in their beds. Some cried; some had pacifiers that they sucked. One boy’s head was tilted up and back as if he was looking at a distant corner behind him; his chubby cheeks and full lips made him look like a little angel. His eyes stared blankly as he snuffled to breathe. A woman who was working there bathed a little child who lay limply in her arms.

“Shall we go upstairs?” Susan asked.

Oh my god there’s more of them, thought Josie as she ascended the stairs. Susan said to Josie, “I cried too the first time I came in here. It’s painful to see these little ones at first. But now I love them, and they know it. I feel like this is important work that I do here even though most people don’t even know these children exist. You’re compassionate. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Upstairs Susan introduced Josie to many other children, all of them in cribs. Some of them seemed quite unaware of the fact that there was someone around, but as it happened downstairs, some of the children squeaked and squealed as Susan arrived. In the fourth room, a pair of little hands clung to the bars of the crib. As Susan approached, the little hands reached out in her direction.

“Eddy,” said Susan. “How’s my boy today?” She took both of his hands in hers. He smiled a crooked smile and wriggled in his crib. Susan let loose one of his hands and tousled his hair. With his free hand, he reached to Josie and grabbed her lower arm. Her shock was soon taken over by the melting of her heart as she felt his soft, warm tiny hands in hers. He pulled her hand into the crib to his mouth. Ever so sweetly he kissed her hand then turned his head to smile at her. When their eyes met his, she knew that there was a little boy in that body that she wanted to get to know.

The day felt different to Josie as she left Bright Harbor Home. The sky looked a little more lustrous, the grass greener, the clouds fluffier, the air smelling fresh. Her crying had decreased to a small sniffle by the time they were back in Susan’s car.

“So that was Bright Harbor Home. I won’t ask you what you thought, but I bet you have some questions don’t you? Susan began

“Yeah I sure do,” answered Josie.

“Fire away then.”

“First of all what happened to them? Why are they like that?” asked Josie as they drove along Northern Lights Boulevard.

“Is that really what you want to know? It’s just names of a bunch of disorders.”

“It’s a place to start,” said Josie.

“Well Bobby has Down syndrome, Rachel had spina bifida, Michael has cerebral palsy, the little boy who is always looking up and back has torticollis, Eddy is a fetal alcohol syndrome baby.”

“What is fetal alcohol syndrome?” Josie was curious.

“It happens when the mother drinks too much when she is pregnant. The baby gets the alcohol, and it impairs his/her development. Eddy was teeny tiny when he was born, it took a few days for him to get to Anchorage from the village.”

“Which village?”

“I don’t remember the name of the village, but it’s on the far west coast of Alaska. It takes two planes and a helicopter to get there. By the time he got to the hospital here, he was very dehydrated and barely alive.”

“Poor little guy,” said Josie. “How old is he?”

“I think he’s five or so,” Susan answered.

“Five, he’s about the size of a two-year-old.”

“I know, but he’s pretty smart. He knows what’s going on. He knows who likes him and who is just pretending.”

“He kissed my hand,” said Josie.

“I know I saw that. He felt your compassion and wanted to show you some in return. That’s what I mean. He’s smart.”

Josie rode in the car silently as she thought about her own drinking during her pregnancy. She had continued drinking and smoking pot, mostly just on weekends, but she had partied nonetheless. Had this contributed to her baby’s death? Had it been her fault? The thought had never occurred to her until now. But this was not a thought she wanted to own. She pushed it aside. She asked Susan, “How long have you worked there?”

“Since I moved into town a little more than a year ago,” said Susan.

“Yeah I love it. The work is hard, but the kids are so sweet. I love them all.”