Home | Links








The Experiment
Failure's A Two-Way Street

To: From: 3rd1stDaughterWhiteHouse.gov Subject: January 10,

        I'm not even gonna summarize this for you. You're never going to believe the kind of week I've had. I don't believe the kind of week I've had.

        January4: I'm sitting here, staring at the paper bag on the table. They're in there. The tests are in there. CJ brought them over this morning before she started work. That was sweet of her. Dad'll make sure she gets reimbursed. I'll have to say thank you again later. I keep staring at the bag. I haven't even opened it yet.

        I'm afraid that if I open the bag, the very implication will become a condition. Did I ask for this? By doing this assignment, did I tell God that I thought I was ready to be a mother? By critiquing Liz, did I tell Him that I thought I could do it better? Did I? Damn it! Me and my big mouth. At least, I can say I came by it earnestly. My dad's a loudmouth. In an intellectual kind of way, of course.

        Me, I'm just a loudmouth. Now, I'm just stalling because I'm too afraid to mess with the bag. I think I'm just going to leave it there. Yeah, just for a little bit.

        I get up and leave the room. I have to go back to school tomorrow. I should pack. I stop at the door and give it one more look, but become skittish and nearly sprint away. I get so wrapped up in my last minute packing that I forget to pick up the bag until the next morning when we're all rushing to get out, realizing that we should have left last night...

        January5: I run out of the elevator and onto the ground floor, trying to remember where I left my bag with all my books in it. Damn it! I run to the sitting room and see my mom standing there going through the plastic bag I left on the table. The tests. Oh, hell.

        I stop at the door and stare at her holding my tests, vainly hoping that she will put them down and leave. She picks it up, looking uncertain what exactly to do with it. Please, just leave it. I'm going to need those later. I see my bag on the corner, under the table. She picks that up too. Damn. She looks up and sees me standing in the doorway.

        "Zoey, honey, you left your bag. Or should I say bags?" She holds up both and I wince. I know there's no way to hide this from her.

        "Yeah, can I have them? I'm going to need them...for class."

        "I bet. You do know what's in this one, don't you?"

        "Yeah."

        "You wanna tell me about it?"

        "No, I don't think I want to do that."

        "Why?"

        "You'll know why soon enough."

        "But not now?" I shake my head.

        "Not now."

        "Okay, I trust you, but you know you can talk to me if you've gotten yourself into trouble. We don't have to tell your father, if you don't want him to know." I open my mouth, but stop. She hears what I didn't say. "Unless he already knows and I'm the one who's out of the loop." I shrug. "What's going on, Zoey?"

        "I can't. I wish I could, but it's not as simple as it used to be. Just trust me, momma. Trust me." She nods.

        "All right, honey, I'll trust you, but don't make me regret it."

        "I can't promise you won't, but you won't be blindsided. I promise." I kiss her cheek and take the bags, beating a hasty retreat for the car that's waiting to take me back to school. I already said goodbye to everyone else. God, help Daddy.

        It took some doing, but I managed to get to all of my classes today. Just barely. I had gone through two classes before I realized that I'd been carrying the pregnancy tests around with me. I threw them to an agent and took off. I hoped they made it back to my dorm. They did.

        I plop down on my bed and stare at the bag sitting lonesome on my pillow. I have no doubt that the bag has been thoroughly examined by Gina, but that's for another time. I don't care who knows I have the tests. I care who knows the results of them. Thankfully, my professors took pity on my classes and didn't assign us any homework. I've never been so thankful. I have the dorm to myself tonight, because my dorm-mate thought this was the perfect excuse to party. 'Karma,' she said. 'You can't fight karma.' Sometimes, she annoys me. However, she is my sister in credits and therefore, I shall never ditch her. Though the desire is often quite strong.

        I schlep around it for a while, before finally snatching it off the bed with defiance. These are just tests. Whatever the outcome, God already knows. As I head resolutely to the bathroom, there's a knock on the door and I falter. The last thing I need now is an interruption. I got to the door, bag secreted behind my back, and put on a hospitable expression. Who the hell needs me now?

        It's Nariel. Of all the things I should've expected that should've been the first one. Before she even speaks, I hear a familiar gurgling around the corner. It's Noah.

        "Nari, why are you knocking? This is your dorm too." She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her too-snug jeans and looks bashful. She always looks bashful.

        "I was stalling, kind of." I drop the bag behind the door and keep watching her. She always says I look like my parents when I look at her this way. She never specifies which one.

        "What were you stalling for?"

        "I need someone to watch Noah." I barely suppress a curse. Of all the nights... Normally, I wouldn't mind, but tonight...

        "Nari, I really can't tonight. You know, any other time I would, but this time..." I shake my head, hoping she understands. Any night, but tonight. She shrugs and takes a step back.

        "It's cool." I stuff my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants.

        "Where you gonna take him?"

        "I'm gonna take him to Mark's. He'll watch him." I feel my brow furrow in concern and confusion. I know that Mark's Noah's father and all, but I also know how he feels about being a father. I've seen them together. If that's the alternative, the tests can wait.

        "Honey, you know what, don't worry about it. I'll take him. Just come back for him later. Are you going home?"

        "Nah. There's just some stuff I've got to do, you know..." I nod my head. It's a little known fact that Nari has a cheap drug habit. It's cheap so far, because she doesn't have that much money to begin with, but I foresee it getting worse. I hope it doesn't one day cost her her life, or worse, her son. I've tried getting her to quit, but she says it's what she needs. With her home life, I can't be the one to tell her what she does and doesn't need. That doesn't stop me from sending agents after her on her little excursions. She always leaves Noah with me. I'm just making sure her son has a mother in the morning.

        "Give me, Noah. Come back when you're done. And don't do what you normally do. Don't bring that here. You'll get all three of us in trouble." She nods. Most wouldn't believe someone as pretty as her has a $20 - $30 a day cocaine habit. I think she's waiting to die. I'm waiting for her life to kill her. It's only a matter of where, when, and who. I wonder if I'd cry at her funeral. I would; she's my sister.

        Her eyes glitter at me. She hands me Noah in his little baby basket along with his diaper bag. Noah coos at me and I give him a little tickle. I want a baby as cute as this. Motherhood is definitely my calling. I feel her eyes on me. I look up and smile at her. I silently wish her luck and wish her well. Come home. That's all I have to say to her. She knows the rest. She smiles her angelic little smile and slips away down the hall and out of the dormitory. And tonight, just like, every night, I wonder if she'll make it back all right or if I'll she'll be someone's top story on the news in the morning. Everyone in my life's a top story.

        I close the door and sit Noah's basket on the bed. He looks up at me with his unfocused glance and waves his arms around. Adorable. I sit down beside him and play with him for awhile until his eyes start to flutter sleepily. I look at the clock on the Nari's bedstand and see that it's already 11 pm. He probably should have been asleep hours ago. I adjust the blankets around him in his little basket and kiss him good night. I sit him on the far side of the bed near the wall and pile pillows around him so that the basket doesn't tip. I just watch him until I'm sure he's asleep. His lips pucker and make sucking motions. I dig around in his bag and find his binky. I stick it in his mouth and away he goes. I watch him for a little while longer before retrieving the bag from behind the door and tiptoeing to the bathroom, leaving the door cracked open in case Noah cries.

        I've got like six tests and two of each. That's a lot of pee, but somehow I manage. I sit on the toilet lid and stare at the frikkin' laboratory our bathroom has become. There's a little timer sitting on the edge of the tub, slowly ticking away at the minutes and seconds of each of the tests. I didn't set it until I finished the last one so that they'd all be done and I could check them at the same time. One minute until the last one is finished. This of course means that several of the others are long since done, but not the last one, the very last one. Forty seconds. That's more than a minute. God, a minute's never seemed so long. Thirty seconds. Half a minute. Will it ever end? Twenty seconds. Almost there. I wonder if Noah's still asleep. Ten seconds. I hear a whimper in the other room. I move into room without thought and peek into the basket. His eyes are wet and he's fussy. I pick him up and cradle him close.

        "What's up little guy? What's wrong." I sit down and hear a ding go off in the bathroom. The tests are done. All of them. Before I can even think about it, Noah really starts to bellow. "Hey, hey. What in the world?" I bounce him a little and he only looks more aggravated. "Are you hungry? Are you wet?" I nod. He's wet. Don't ask me how I know; I just know. Woman's Intuition.

        I lay him down on his back and take of his little bodysuit. His diaper is soggy. Um, eww. I dig around into the diaper bag and pull out a new outfit and another diaper.

        "How about some jammies? You wanna wear some jammies?" I hold up the green bodysuit with attached booties. His little fingers extend towards it, but it's beyond his reach. "Yeah, jammies. But first, we gotsta change your wittle diaper. Yeah, let's change the diaper." I pull the little diaper off and roll it up to be disposed of later. Baby wipes. "Wipe the little bottom. Wiping the little bottom." He gurgles and laughs. I spot the little bottom with powder and do a little check to make sure there's no diaper rash. None. I affix the little tabs to their proper stations and take a step back to review my handiwork. Damn, I'm good at this. "Now, for the little jammies." I pull them up; one foot and then the other. A right arm and a left arm. A little button here and another one there. "Voila, baby." I hold him up. Damn, I am good. "Come on, let's check on those tests."

        He settles himself in my arms and nods off a bit. Back to the bathroom. I stare at the tests, but don't read them. I'm just staring at them. I'm too afraid to comprehend what they're telling me. My God...

        I hear a solemn knock on my door. I jet out of the bathroom, using any excuse to get away from the truth staring into my face. I pull the door open with my free hand. It's Gina. My heart flies into my throat. Oh, God. Nariel.

        My knees weaken and she has to catch me and Noah before we hit the ground together. She wraps a secure arm around my front and drags me back to my bed. I fall back on it. The motion wakes Noah who begins to cry. I do the only thing I can do. I comfort him though I'm the one dying. She was my sister. I finally catch my breath and can just make Gina out through bleary eyes.

        "What happened?" She takes sighs a sad sigh. She doesn't want to say. Well, I don't care if she wants to say. She'd better say. "What. Happened?"

        "We lost her. She must have known she was being tailed because she went all over the place and managed to shake us. By the time we got to her--By the time we got there, there was nothing to be done. We looked all over, but we just weren't--We didn't get there in time." In my mind an image of my sister's broken body laying on someone's dirty mattress runs rampant. The difference between in time and too late is so slim. Moments really. Only moments.

        January6: My best friend's the top story. The top story. Isn't that a surprise. This never surprises me anymore. It's just the way it happened. The way she left me behind. The way she left her son. He doesn't even understand it. He doesn't even know that something's missing now, that something's gone from his life that he can't ever get back.

        It's all I can do not to scream at the top of my lungs. For hours, I cried in my dorm until I was whisked, Noah in tow, to the White House to see my parents. I needed my mom so badly. Daddy was there too. He stood silently in the background, holding Noah and keeping him calm. I didn't know it then, but I'd need him just as much soon. I didn't get to give the tests another look before I left. I didn't need to. I knew what they said.

        The police were angry that I'd left the dorm. They considered it interference by the White House. Both of my parents had to be nearly restrained. They gave the detectives a very firm tongue-lashing. I talked to their detectives. I answered their questions.

        Yeah, she was a drug addict. Yeah, I knew about it. Why didn't I tell someone? I told people, but who cared? I cared. Why didn't I help her? She didn't want my help. Why did I keep her son? Because, I don't doubt that had it come down to it, she'd have taken him with her. Then, they'd both be dead. Besides, I always kept him. No, I didn't mind. I love him. I loved her. She was like my sister. She was my sister.

        Did I see the home pregnancy tests in the bathroom? Yeah, I saw them. Were they mine? Yes. Do I know what they said? Yes, I do. Why do you care? Do I do drugs? Never touch the stuff. Why? Someone's got to be clean enough to watch out for Noah. Why not his father? You obviously have never met his father. His father's an asshole. I'm being polite. Other's have far worse things to say about him. Are you done? Good. Have a nice evening, detectives.

        I got up and left the sitting room. I walk back into my room and see my dad holding Noah and staring out the window. I never told him about her thing. I couldn't. I didn't want to face it myself.

        "Dad, I'm sorry. I just couldn't talk about her thing with anyone. I didn't want her to lose her scholarship. It was her last chance to get out, to escape the life she was living and I knew that if she lost that scholarship that she never would. This was her last year. The last one. I thought she'd be okay just until May. She almost made it." He turns around and watches me. He looks at me as someone who understands where she's been. "Since she had Noah, she'd been doing so good. The father, Mark, had basically abandoned her when she was pregnant. When she found out she was pregnant, she gave up drugs cold turkey. No gradual decline, she just stopped. She was even clean after that until Mark knocked on our door again and pulled her back into his world. She wanted so badly to give her son the life that she never got to have. But soon, all that went away and she just couldn't shake the hold drugs had on her. Oh, she loved her son, but she loved the drugs more. It's always been the drugs. One addiction for another." I fall onto the bed and bury my face in the down comforter. I want my sister back. "I want my sister back."

        "I know, honey." I feel the bed shift and his fingers play in my hair. My tears soak the cover. I want my sister. I want to go back to last night and tell her not go. I want to put her son in her arms and make the warmth of his small body be enough to silence the din of her demons. I want to save her, but I'm a day late and a promise short. I failed her and she failed me. Failure's a two-way street. Just like everything else.
 
 


Reviews, comments, or questions here.
 
General Disclaimer: Every character, with the exception of those specified, belongs to their respective writers, producers, studios, and production companies.  NO money was made during the conception of these stories or their distribution.  No copyright infringement is intended.