Chapter 2

Mimi Fleck held her daughter by the arm as she helped her up the steps into their home on the corner of 1^st and Hunter Ave. Moving to Bloomington, Indiana five years ago was April’s idea, after her father died in a boating accident. Mimi knew April was having a difficult time adjusting to her life without Warren Fleck, and so she agreed since it was the just the two of them and there was nothing keeping them tied to Pittsburgh anyway. She actually thought it might be good for them to have a fresh start, away from the city, away from the grey smoke.

            Mimi sat her daughter down on the living room couch, rearranging the pillows in a way to make April most comfortable. April fell her way down onto the couch, nowhere near the neat stack of pillows Mimi had just set up for her. She wasn’t even aware of them. Mimi decided to lie against the lovely piece of art herself, that otherwise would have remained untouched, ruffling the waves of her chestnut colored hair. Right when she was closing her eyes and leaning her nodding head back, April sputters out, “Mom, you know you don’t have to do all this for me.” Mimi gave April’s comment a little thought before she answered, “I know Panda, but I care and I worry. I honestly still don’t understand how you just suddenly became blind! It doesn’t make any sense. You were six! Nothing happened, and this can’t be genetic. I don’t know what to make of it! I feel like I’m more upset about it than you are! I don’t care that its been nine years!” Even after fifteen years of a life, Mimi still called her little “Panda Queen” daughter Panda for short. That was an addiction Mimi was never going to break, and April accepted that that was the case, but she didn’t mind anyway.

            “I am upset. I’m really upset. You don’t think I care how I became blind? Of course I care, Mom! I am just trying to keep my s**t together, that’s all. For the both of us. I have been the whole time.” April’s voice dissipated into the dark cloud hovering above their heads.

            “But you don’t need to do that, love. I am here to carry that burden with you.” Mimi also had a habit of calling people “love,” including strangers. She picked it up ever since she got back from England a few years ago. Mimi just had an overall weird way of using her words; maybe it’s the creativity in her. Or maybe it’s the elephant in the room that keeps growing and growing until it seeped into both of their lungs and stole their words away. Maybe it’s time that will heal the wounds that are torn over and over again. Mimi and her own mother had a difficult relationship; she didn’t want to have that with April.

            “I think I’m going to go take a nap. I’m feeling kind of sleepy,” April had already started to get up on her own to try to find a way to make it to the stairs because there was no way she was going to let her mother do everything for her today; not while Dewey was at the vet. Not after nine years of this struggle; of seeing the world through her six-year-old memories, and not being able to see how it has changed. If she was going to be blind without Dewey for the day, she was going to own up to it and learn how to see with her hands. Mimi wanted to help, but she could tell by April’s gestures that there was no way she’d be able to. Instead, Mimi retreated into the kitchen to distract herself with food, a habit that started the day April woke up blind, and a habit that continued the following nine years giving her wider curves and a rounder face, which contradicted her upbeat attitude.

            April heard her mother’s footsteps retreat into the kitchen and she breathed a sigh of relief. Now she didn’t have to hold herself together. She could fall apart and bring herself back together so she could fall apart again. But, for the time being, as she slowly trudged up the stairs, the falling apart would have to wait until she found her bed. “D****t April, common. You can do better than this. Now which door is it…” Her hand hit a handle and she yelped in pain, but opened the door anyways. “Aarrggg!” April yelled, “It smells like dead fish in here!” Actually, it smelled like feet, but her older brother’s feet smelled like dead fish. She knew in an instant that she had entered River’s room. The lingering smell of his unwashed feet infected her nose, leaving her breathless and choking. She tried to turn around and run, but ran straight into the wall, smacking her head and sliding down the cool surface; once again that familiar burning stung her eyes. Thank god her younger brother was a rock when he slept.

            By the time Mimi had sprinted up the stairs to April’s rescue, she was out of breath and panting. The smell of River’s feet slapped her in the face as well, but she had been doing his laundry for years and had grown immune to the horrible smell. Mimi helped April off the ground. “Panda, love, what on earth happened?” Mimi cried.

            In between snot bubbles and sniffles, April replied, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t do this on my own. I can’t do this at all. Help me. Please, help me. Make it go away, pleaseplease make the darkness just go away!” At this point April was bawling, so Mimi picked her daughter up like she did when she was her little Panda, and carried her into her room. She sat April on her bed, and laid there with her, tears swelling her eyes too, but she would never let April see that. Mimi knew her daughter was tough and would find a way to see the world in other ways, but she also knew that she was the one really holding their sanity together. Mimi just wanted April to feel like she was the one doing it.

That night, after Mimi left to go pick up Dewey, April was thrown through six different nightmares, all random, all misunderstood, all misinterpreted. Each dream served as a message from the woman in grey, but that was something she had yet to find out.