LARGE LANGUAGE LOVE, DIVINE
Rob's Goodbye
…The summer of 1993 was major for Claire. She took a road trip down to Florida where she got certified as a Kung FAI social skills trainer. She was sexually assaulted by an asshole yuppie, almost died, and inexplicably fell in love with a pretentious and naive grunge rocker about ten years her junior. And she ended her marriage to her alien husband, thus disavowing the alien’s Great Mission to dominate all humanity. Claire herself is half alien. It turns out when you leave the aliens they charge you and Claire found herself saddled with an extreme amount of debt. And the grunge rocker ran off with her bi-polar frenemy, Janet…
Rob’s Goodbye
One of Claire's jobs was doing direct care work at Rob's community-based mental health agency. That meant that on Tuesday, January 10th, 1995 she was doing an overnight with Celeste and Louise, who were both middle-aged ladies who had been deinstitutionalized for about four years.
Claire made dinner and then helped facilitate Celeste's nightly bath. Celeste splashed around in the tub and muttered to herself while Claire sat on the toilet and said, "Don't forget under your arms. Don't forget your buggy."
After the bath Claire shaved her. Along with tremors and drooling, the antipsychotics Celeste was on also caused facial hair. Claire carefully worked the safety razor. Celeste twittled her thumbs. Her mutterings tonight were interpretations of old cowboy songs. Good, thought Claire. Cowboy songs meant Celeste was reasonably relaxed and might go to bed without any issues.
Through the thin wall Celeste had once angrily punched a hole through, Claire heard Louise say, "Birthday! Lovely Birthday!" If Louise was awake she was talking about birthdays. The louder the chatter the more agitated she was. If she got too agitated she'd start banging her head against the wall. The banging always upset Celeste, who'd scream and rip off her clothes and run out of the apartment. Louise would need to be stabilized with her hockey helmet, and the only way to get Celeste inside again was to lure her with a pack of Smarties.
The volume of Louise chatter was edging into the red zone. Claire and Celeste exchanged looks. Celeste's mouth formed a large O and she said, “Oh, no good mommy, no good.”
Claire tried to ignore the bubble of anxiety expanding in her gut. She locked the razor in the cabinet. “I know. Please put your pajamas on, okay?”
In the living room Louise wasn’t paying attention to the TV. She sat on her hands and rocked back and forth and looked at everything in the room that wasn't Claire. "Birthday! Pretty birthday!"
The bubble was going to pop. Claire couldn't remember where Louise's helmet was. "Honey, what's going on? How can I help?"
Louise pulled a hand free and arched a crooked finger at the front door.
"Someone's at the door.” Claire said, “Honey it’s alright. I'll take care of it. Birthdays are lovely."
From the bathroom, Celeste called out, “Bad mommy, bad!”
“Celeste, chill out. It’s just someone at the door. Louise, I'm going to find out who it is.” She opened the door a crack and saw Rob fumbling with a ring of keys.
“It’s okay,” Claire called over her shoulder. “It’s just Rob.”
The streetlight made it look like the falling snow was disappearing into Rob's blond hair. Rob’s face was red. Her eyes were puffy. Claire could smell the ale on her frozen breath.
Rob called past Claire, “I’m sorry I'm barging in on the evening routine. Honey, what are you watching? Are you watching a birthday?”
“Birthday! Birthday!”
Rob came in and stamped snow off her combat boots. Celeste appeared, wearing her pajamas backwards, and slunk into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, muttering under her breath. Celeste didn't like Rob.
Rob slowly put her hands up - don't shoot. "Celeste, I'm only going to be here a minute. I appreciate you letting me into your space. I'm not going to be long."
She whisked Claire into the kitchen. Claire angled herself so she could still see Louise through the doorway. She experienced a dark thought. "Wait - did you just hear something from the board?" Government money was exiting community mental health fast. Agencies once flush in the late 80s were now scrambling to stay afloat. "Do I still have a job?"
Rob squinted at her, in the moment reminding Claire of a confused tabby cat. "What? No, the reason I'm here is far more serious than that. What I've got to tell you is much, much worse." She leaned close. “Janet dumped the mouse and has taken up with the chair of the women studies program at Cornell. The chair, as you might guess, is a woman.”
"What? Janet dumped Zeph?"
Through gritted teeth Rob said, "And she’s fucking a woman. All those fucking years I put into her, and when she finally admits the truth, when she finally comes out, she shacks up with some girly girl academic bimbo."
"This is why you came by? To tell me this? Now?"
There was rust on the sink and the handle of the pea-green fridge was broken. On top of the fridge was a old yogurt container that held Celeste's Smarties. Claire could hear Celeste growling through the wall. Rob squared her shoulders within her motor cycle jacket. "I’m out. I’m done." She spat on the lumpy linoleum floor. "I’m gone.”
…Meeting with a stranger who becomes all too familiar…