"Good-Bye, Mom"

~3 YEARS LATER~

 Evelyn
[NOTE:*Evelyn is now 15 and Sylvia is 13 (years old)*]

            I walked down to the bus stop with Sylvia. Together, we stood to watch for the bus. Sylvia sighed and paced back and forth as I watched her with careful eyes.

            Soon, the bus rolled down the street and we hurried onboard.

 ***

            “Class, pop quiz! Please take out your pencils!” the teacher walked around the classroom, passing out papers.

            There was a sudden beep! on the intercom, followed by: *Evelyn and Sylvia Shaw, please come to the office, I repeat, Evelyn and Sylvia, please come to the office.*

            I stood up. Whispers flew around the classroom.

            “Oooh, she’s in trou-ble!”

            “I wonder why…”

            “Haha, there she goes!”

            “Class, quiet down!” The teacher yelled. And to me, she said, “You may be excused.”

            And with no response, I went out the door.

            I walked down the silent hallway, only to be joined by Sylvia; who chatted freely about her thoughts as we made our way down to the office.

            I kept a straight face as I walked in and sat down. Sylvia jumped in the seat next to me.

            Mrs. Anne, the secretary looked over at us and put a finger up. Hold on one second… she was saying. She continued to talk on the phone.

            “Yes, I understand…No, yes, sure! Bye!” She placed the phone down and scooted to the front of her desk.

            “Hi! So glad you could come,” Mrs. Anne smiled. “Evelyn, Sylvia,” she addressed both of us and nodded. Then her face turned serious. “Your mother is in the asylum.” 

            “A Silo?” Sylvia asked, confused.

            “Asylum, A-S-Y-L-U-M,” I corrected. “A place where people rendered psycho go,” my face remained straight.

            “Asylum?” Sylvia repeated. “B-but our mother, she isn’t-“

            Mrs. Anne cut her off. “She went mad. Probably from overdose. But don’t worry, she has sense. It’s- they way other people see her: unfit to raise children. She’s been put in extra care.”

            Sylvia went silent.

            “Where will we go?” I asked.

            “You’ll still go to school here, but one of your relatives notified me. You’ll be staying with your Aunt Helena,” Mrs. Anne smiled as the phone rang again. “Excuse me,” she said, swiveling around to answer it.

            Aunt Helena… I pondered this, absorbed in my thoughts. Mom had once said that her only sister, Helena, was a crazy and childish woman. I frowned. My mind was so concentrated on Aunt Helena that I didn’t even hear Mrs. Anne when she called my name.

            “Evelyn? Evie? Hello? Can you hear me?”

            “Ugh!” I said, shuddering. “I’m here.”

            “Right. Like I said, you’ll be moving in with your Aunt Helena. She lives a little far out, but she says that she’ll be driving you to school…”

            “A car!” Sylvia yelped. “I haven’t been in a car, since, well, since dad-“

            Mrs. Anne gulped. “I’m sorry you two, I know you’ve both had a hard life, and that this is just another problem. But, maybe thing will get better, okay?”

            I nodded, but I had no hope in me.

            “Oh! I almost forgot. You guys are moving in today. But, before that…” she smiled faintly. “You’re going to see your mother one last time.”

            I frowned. One last time… One. Last. Time. We would never see our mom again after today. Next to me, Sylvia burst into tears.

***

            Sylvia continued to sniffle in the seat next to me as we drove to the asylum where our mother would be. Mrs. Anne was driving us, a smile frozen on her face. She turned left, right, and pulled into the parking lot of a giant white building.

            I got out and stood, staring at building as Mrs. Anne helped a red-eyed Sylvia out of the car. Together, we all walked up to the doors.

            Inside, it smelled strongly of bleach and rubber.

            Mrs. Anne walked up to the front desk, holding Sylvia’s hand as she trailed behind, frowning openly.

            The lady at the counter looked up, and I stepped closer to see that her face was plastered with makeup. She had bright blue eyeliner with a hot pink lipstick that was smeared all over her big fat lips. Groaning, I walked over to stand next to Sylvia. She looked up at me with her big brown eyes and let out a whimper.

            “Everything’s going to be okay,” I whispered, patting her back. But I didn’t sound so sure myself.

            Mrs. Anne shared a few words with the makeup lady, and then pulled us down the hallways. My nose burned with the smell of antiseptics and I sneezed.

            “Cover your mouth next time, sweetie,” a lady said as we passed.

            I nodded absently in response. Some small part of me knew that the lady was already long gone and would not wait for an answer.

            Mrs. Anne muttered to herself as she slowed down, looking more closely at room numbers. “135…136…137…almost there…138! Here it is!” Looking down at Sylvia, she gave another shaky smile and opened the door.

            Sitting on a pure white bed with cream colored sheets was our mother, just as I remembered her. She sat there, a small smile lighting her face as she took us in.

            “Mother!” Sylvia cried out and ran to hug her.

            “I’ll leave you alone, then,” Mrs. Anne whispered, and quietly walked out.

            “Mother,” I saidushing to her side. She seemed perfectly normal. I grimaced as Sylvia sobbed into her shoulder.

            “30 minutes,” mother whispered, “That’s all the time they’ll allow for visitors.”

            “I love you mom,” I whispered, snuggling closer to her. She gave a faint smile.

            For 15 minutes, we cried and sighed and told each other “I love you,” multiple times.

            “So, Aunt Helena, huh?” mother said, changing the subject. We both nodded our heads. “Promise me that you’ll always watch your back. There’s something strange about her…seeing things, if you know what I mean. Things no one else can see. Strange things.”

            I frowned. What kind of things? I opened my mouth to ask the question that rang in my mind, but mother held up her hand.

            “They keep me here for no reason, girls. And time’s almost up. 3 minutes left. Promise that you’ll visit your mother every now and then.”

            “Promise you’ll never leave, mom,” Sylvia whispered.

            “Of course!” mom patted her head, and Sylvia smiled, “Where would I go anyway? Pinky promise! I won’t move!” She and Sylvia entwined pinkies as an attendant came in to shuffle us out.

            “Bye, mom!” I said, hugging her one last time. We probably would never get the chance to visit again.

            Sylvia started to sniffle again as she hugged mom and mumbled “I love you, mom.”

            The attendant pushed us out the door of room 138 as I looked back to see mom smiling and waving at us. I froze that image in my mind and whispered as we went out to the lobby: “Good-bye, mother. Bye.”

           ***

           Mrs. Anne drove us back to our house and we were allowed to pack as much as we could into 2 suitcases, one for each of us. I didn’t pack much. A few toys and all the pictures of our family I could find. Even then, my suitcase wasn’t full. I ran to the library and picked out a few of the books mom and dad used to read us at bedtime.

            “Girls? We need to leave soon!” Mrs. Anne called from the living room.

            “Right!” I yelled, stumbling out of the room with my now heavy suitcase. But as I hurried out the door, I tripped over a thick book lying on the floor. “What the-?” I picked it up, turning it over in my hands. I was going to open it when Mrs. Anne beeped the car horn. Stuffing the book into my suitcase without a second glance, I ran out the door.