Relative Freedom

Relative Freedom

Thomas Alan

Melinda approached her sleeping daughter and kissed her gently on the
cheek for the last time. She was, by nature, at somewhat of a distance
from her own emotions, although she was aware of the gravity of what
was about to happen. Melinda proceeded, almost mechanically, through
the front door and out into the night. She carried only a small handbag
as she approached the waiting cab. It was difficult for her to
communicate her desired destination to the cab driver, she spoke
nervously and fast, and the words were awkwardly out of sequence. After
Melinda managed to convey her instructions to the driver, they started
away from the sounds and lights of the city.

As the cab slowed to a stop in the steeped hills, she paid him, and
tipped him one hundred and three dollars and seventeen cents. Every
cent counted. She began her hike further up the mountain, in nearly
total darkness and through dense tangled brush. Melinda's thoughts
winded through the vast labyrinth of her mind, like a surreal slide
show of mysterious images. She thought of her deceased parents, her
delusions, her estranged husband, and the shadowy faces of the voices
she heard. A feeling of fear began to envelop her. She ascended to the
precipice of a high cliff, as the glow of the morning twilight immersed
the land in warm color. Reaching in her small bag, she pulled out her
final book of poems, and a strong adhesive glue. Melinda removed every
piece of clothing on her body, and then began tearing pages from the
spine of the book. She glued every page to her naked skin, scantily
blanketing her shivering pale form. The majestic sun crept above the
horizon, and it singed her clear green eyes as she stood facing it,
atop the steep mountain cliff. Speaking no last words, she plunged into
the infinity of the spiritual realm that we all eventually
discover.

: :

Anna awakened from sleep to experience a nightmare. She was overwhelmed
by a feeling of apprehension that was more intense than usual for her.
Anna rushed furiously down the hall to her mother's bedroom. She was
not there. She ran through each room of the small house, in a frantic
search for her troubled mother, although she would not find her. Anna
collapsed in anguish on the floor in front of her mother's bed, as she
cried uncontrollably. Minutes later, she regained some composure, and
considered the options of what she should do next. She called her twin
sister, Clarissa, but she did not answer. Next she called the police,
and informed them of the situation. Anna knew she should go look for
her mother, even though the thought of it terrified her. Going beyond
the safety and security of her home would be agonizing. She could have
a panic attack while driving the car and wreck, or she could get lost,
or she could become overwhelmed with crippling anxiety and lose her
mind. Anna called her sister again, no answer. She called her mother's
publishing agent, and talked to him. He had not heard from her. Anna
found a heavy jacket, threw on a pair of old shoes, and forced herself
out of the house.

Anna could see her breath in the cold with each exhale. The day was
dark, with no mention of the sun. She made her way down the street,
without knowing where to look first for her mother. She walked towards
a busier area just beyond her neighborhood, where the hum of passing
vehicles filled the winter air. Anna's uneasiness mounted as she
journeyed into the urban realm; she did not trust anyone here. The
thought of her mother urged her to keep looking, although her anxiety
tightened its malicious grip. She looked in each direction in a
disoriented attempt to realize her location. Anna began to succomb to
the feeling of panic that crept insidiously through her. Emotions
steam-rolled her logic. She felt as if she were a hovering entity
outside her own body, in some sort of effort to detach herself from her
suffering. Dialing her sister's number once again, she finally reached
Clarissa. Anna endured the next eighteen minutes with her thoughts
careening out of control, until Clarissa was able to come to her.

Two Months Later

The abrupt ring of the telephone startled Anna from her reflective
repose. "Hello," she mumbled.

"Hey! How are you feeling?" Clarissa asked.

"I'm not really feeling so great," Anna responded plainly.

"Listen Anna, I want you to try to get over this. You haven't been out
in what.. two months.. She wouldn't have wanted you to be a prisoner in
your home! You don't have the disease. You're making yourself the
victim here. You have to be able to get out of this house!" Clarissa
urged.

"It seems like it would be so much easier to be you, Clare. You're
beautiful and talented and insightful and.."

Clarissa interrupts, "And we're twins! So whatever you see in me is
just like a reflection of yourself!"

"I wish it were that simple and poetic, but it isn't.. I have this
anxiety! It's just like a disease.. It might as well be Schizophrenia!
It alters my reality completely... it distorts my experience.. I hear
voices too, you know! Maybe not the same voices that mom heard.. I hear
my own voice questioning everything. Questioning and doubting..
Doubting myself.. my abilities, my thoughts, my intelligence, my
sanity! I live with this every day.. Every day I feel this intense fear
and uncertainty and insecurity.. and it sure didn't get any better when
mom died! Right now I really don't feel that I'm able to get out of the
house.. So Clarissa, I am happy for you and the success that you're
going to enjoy&;#8230; I sincerely am. But for whatever reason, I
have to suffer this reality! And it's so hard.. just to crawl out of
bed, most of the time.. I am sorry for being like this.. I am just
really afraid right now!"
Anna put her head on the cold, hardwood table and cried, still holding
the phone to her ear. Clarissa's heart ached upon hearing and feeling
her sister's oppressive sorrow.

"Well, I'm really sorry you have to feel like this," Clarissa added
sympathetically. "You know I'll do whatever I can, Anna."

"Just bring over a recording whenever you guys do anything," Anna
urged. "Even if it's just informal dialogue. It really helps me to see
you do well, Clare."

"All right. I'll bring you something. Hopefully tomorrow.. I'm going to
work both shifts today and tonight."

"I know you're working double. I hate that you have to do that.. I'll
try to get back to work. It seems impossible now, though," said
Anna.

"It's ok, don't worry about that.. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Anna. Do
what you can to feel better."

"All right, bye."

Anna hung the phone up. She felt a certain comfort knowing that her
sister was so supportive, even if it seemed no one could fully
understand her plight. She walked languidly over to the television. She
searched through the pile of videotapes in front of the VCR, coming up
with the most recent video that Clarissa had brought over. She put the
tape in, and pressed play. It was a recording of Clarissa's theater
group practicing an act. Upon watching the tape, Anna gradually unwound
from her unhappy and limited reality into a temporary world of
vicarious pleasure. She watched her sister, who was clearly the most
talented, embody her character flawlessly. Clarissa had won a full
drama scholarship two years earlier, but chose not to travel several
hours away, and leave her sister and her mother. Anna sat hunched over
towards the television, with elbows propped up on her knees, and her
hands supporting her head. She gazed dreamily at the screen, picturing
herself in the front of the camera. She fantasized that she was
confident, completely in control of her emotions, and she emanated a
sense of heavenly beauty. Anna imagined an adoring audience that
mirrored her radiant glow with exalted enthusiasm and wide-lipped
smiles. As she basked in her sublime imagining, Anna's eyelid's grew
heavy, and she drifted off.

In one of the muffled corners of Anna's dreaming mind, she hears a
heavy door opening and closing. Footsteps follow, and grow increasingly
louder as the sound emerges from those muffled corners. "Anna.. It's
me.." Clarissa said as she moved into the living room, "Come on, get
up&;#8230; I need to talk to you."

"All right, talk.." Anna replied in a groggy, half-awake voice.

"I told you that I was going to do all I can to help you. Well, I'm
going to do that; but I also want you to take a more active role in
helping yourself," Clarissa stated firmly. "I know you're just waking
up, but you're listening to me, right?"

"What day is it?" Anna mumbled.

"It's today. Now listen. I just got back from the lawyer's office.
Mom's will, if we can call it that, is pretty tricky. We'll go over all
the technical details later. She did leave something very special for
you, though," Clarissa could see her sister's sleepy eyes open more
fully. "She intended a small box of memoirs for you.. Written the week
before she died."

Anna shifted her gaze downward momentarily, reflecting on the poignant
emotion that consumed her. She had endured years of her mother's
bewildering behavior with unwavering patience and compassion.
"Do you have the memoirs with you?" Anna asked.

"I'm not going to be able to bring the memoirs to you. You're going to
go get them," Clarissa stated in a calm but unyielding tone. You're
going to have to get out of the house, and go get them one at a
time."

"Clare, if you just give them to me.. I can read them, and achieve
some closure on mom being gone, then eventually I'll feel better!" Anna
implored.

"I'm sorry. Eventually is going to happen now!" Clarissa proclaimed
adamantly. "If you want to read the first one, follow these
instructions. All you need to find it is on this piece of paper. I'm
sorry to withhold something so special to you, but I feel like this is
a good way to help you overcome this. I'll talk to you tonight.."
Clarissa left the instruction sheet on the table and walked out.

Anna stood dazed and motionless. A paradoxical uprising of fear and
excitement surged within her. She was afraid to confront the fear that
manipulated and suppressed her, yet she was passionately compelled to
read her mother's last words to her. She turned her back to the table,
and moved towards the medicine cabinet. Pouring a tall glass of
straight Vodka, she washed down two Valium to elude her reality. Anna
picked the instructions up off the table. She held the instructions
between her two nervous hands, shaking so intensely that the convulsive
movements nearly tore the paper in half. Dropping the paper, she ran
urgently to the bathroom and vomited.

A hard nap and a hangover later, Anna awakened to the sounds of a
mid-afternoon rain. She had vividly dreamt of her mother during her
sleep. In the dream she and her mother sat facing each other at the
rocky bottom of a large canyon. Anna could feel the heat of the ground
through her pants, and the land was dusty and stern. Her mother's mouth
was moving, although the sounds of her talking could not be heard
clearly. The sound of her voice in overlapping and incomprehensible
echoes bounced off the canyon walls. Anna felt unable to move; she
opened her mouth, although she could not speak. Her frustration
swelled. Looking more closely at her mother's face, Anna noticed that
she was staring eerily into her own eyes.

Awakening from the dream, she felt a desperate need to hear her
mother's voice speak clearly to her. She threw on some old clothes, and
a sturdy jacket. She laced her tennis shoes, which had not been worn in
months. Anna confidently snatched the instructions, and she imposed her
will out of the house. A brisk, cold northerly wind greeted her as she
stepped outside for the first time in weeks. A light rain fell, adding
to the difficulties that already beset Anna. She attempted to read the
instructions, while at the same time shielding the paper from the rain.
Looking at the paper, it read, "I know you have the courage and the
heart to overcome this! I love you. Clarissa". The sentiment filled
Anna with an encouraging warmth. She read on.

The paper instructed her to go to the gas station about a block and a
half from home. She was supposed to tell the attendant her name, and
she would be given an envelope with the first memoir inside. The
thought of facing a stranger, and making an odd request was an
intimidating one. Anna's heart began to beat at a more intense pace, as
the flow of adrenaline began to surge within her. She looked around
her, and began to notice the stares from the passengers in the passing
cars. They must have thought she was some kind of idiot, walking
hurriedly in the cold and rain. She hoped no one would recognize her.
Anna condemned herself for worrying about this. Why would she worry so
much about what others think? Even if someone did recognize her, it
would probably be someone she hadn't seen in years. How relevant could
they be to her life now? Her anxiety persisted, but so did she. She
walked determinedly until she arrived at her destination.

Looking ahead, through the light rain, she saw the busy gas station.
Her muscles tensed at the sight of it, and her mind cycled through a
myriad of possible scenarios that would leave her humiliated. What if
they didn't have an envelope for her? She would become tongue-tied and
nervous, and not be able to explain what the letter was for. She did
not want to have to explain what it was; she would mention that it was
from her mother, and she would become emotional right there in public.
Anna attempted a calming, deep breath. One that would cleanse her soul
of the villainous demons that plagued her. She transcended her
intimidating thoughts momentarily as she walked bravely through the
door.

The inside of the store was noisy, and the air was stuffy. People
stared at her, as if she had awkwardly burst in through the swinging
door that was pushed, but was supposed to be pulled. Anna noticed a wet
spot a few feet in front of her. She could see disaster there, in the
reflection on the floor. She stepped over the spot and stepped up to
the counter.
"I'm Anna Thompson. ..is there an envelope? I mean&;#8230; do you
have one envelope for me?" she said, almost clumsily.

"Young lady.. you cut right in front of me! I was next!" exclaimed an
indignant elderly woman standing at the counter just behind her.
Anna thought to herself. Listen, woman. I'm not perfect. There's a lot
going on in here, and I'm a bit overwhelmed.

Turning around timidly, avoiding eye contact, Anna said in a loud
whisper, " I'm sorry.."

"Here you go, miss," the clerk said, as he smiled
sympathetically.

She took the envelope, ebullient like a child at Christmas on the
inside, but without conjuring a sound or expression on the outside. Out
the door, and into the dusk of the open world at her feet. Her heart
thundered in anticipation. She hurried to the back of the building,
tears now streaming down her face in a confluence of rain and human
emotion. In a partially sheltered spot against the cold, red brick
wall, she found a place to sit down. Anna's breathing was fast and
shallow; her legs were exhausted from reverberating and supporting the
weight of her anxiety. She sat crouched, back against the wall, and her
knees just in front of her face. Opening the envelope, she felt comfort
in seeing the handwriting that could only be her mother's. She began to
read the first of her mother's memoirs to her.

: :

Three Weeks Later

Anna smiled modestly, and the mirror smiled back. She finished applying
her make-up, and she stood up once again to see the way her dress made
her feel and look so different. Like a little girl dressed up for
church, she felt appropriate and important. She waited, somewhat
impatiently, for the cab to arrive. When it did, she took a slow,
conscious breath and then bounded out the door. After she conveyed the
instructions to the driver, they started off towards the sounds and
lights of the city. Anna felt a mounting apprehension as the cab cut
through the night like a humming mechanical ghost. When the cab reached
its destination, they slowed to a stop. She paid the driver, and tipped
him well. Every cent counted.

The man working the ticket booth watched as she emerged from her scaled
back chariot. Anna moved gracefully up the stairs and towards the
booth; he noticed her long tresses of blond hair, curling at the ends,
bouncing slightly. Her shape was wiry, yet womanly. As she stood before
him anxiously, in the split second before she spoke, he looked straight
into her hopeful green eyes. In her eyes, the man saw a rare and
transcending beauty; a woman that had endured a profusion of pain,
illness, and fear. Anna told the man her name, and he handed her the
envelope containing the last memoir from her mother. The man smiled, as
if to show an interest in her. She smiled back shyly, and then walked
inside the building.

On the inside, the architecture was grand and open. The ceilings were
high, and the carpet below her feet was ornately beautiful. There were
a few well-dressed people milling around in this large entrance room.
The expressions on their faces, and the way they carried themselves
gave Anna the impression that they also felt appropriate and important.
She walked out of the room, and found an adjacent hallway that was
quiet. She sat down on the floor, wrinkling her dress, and opened the
envelope. She began to read the last of her mother's memoirs.

"Unfortunately, my dearest Anna, I continue to suffer more and more
each day. I see through these eyes a perception of reality that is an
illusion in itself. I have some periods of lucidity and calm; although
more often, a deluge of frightening paranoia persists like a monsoon
rain. Melinda.. she feels very alone almost all of the time. Her image
of herself is projected at a distance. There are other selves that seem
to be physically separate from the rest of her and me; I am in constant
fear of them. I sometimes am bold enough to sit face to face with these
incongruous parts of Melinda. I stare curiously into the empty eyes
across from me. I am sorry, Anna, that I could not discuss this waking
nightmare with you. It is an abysmal reality, and it would terrify
you.

We both face our own internal demons. I am choosing nonexistence out of
fear; however, the act of departing is courageous. I know you will live
on, and you will do so with tremendous courage. Do not succomb to your
fear as I have done. The more you run from it, the faster it will chase
you. Do not be fearful of your life. Go towards happiness with
confidence. I love you."

Anna had developed more of an understanding of her mother, and her
condition through the memoirs. After witnessing the devastating impact
of uncontrolled fear on a life, she vowed to conquer it. She stood up,
brushed off her dress, and headed down the hallway towards the muffled
stir of voices in the large room. She reached in the envelope, and
found one very special ticket. Once she was among the slow-walking
droves of others, she held the ticket tight in nervous anticipation.
She smiled as she passed through the room, in the back of her mind
remembering the anxiety that had plagued her. Somewhat tentative, Anna
continued until she found her seat between two couples, one young and
the other couple elderly. She relaxed into the seat, as her mind
excitedly turned cartwheels.

As the lights went down, the spotlights were cast gracefully upon the
awaiting stage. Anna was now miles from home, sitting tall with a sense
of confidence in a sea of strangers. Her face was flushed, and she
could feel her heart pound more intensely. As the curtain was drawn,
Clarissa emerged from veiled shadows and into the light.