Mr. Big (15 page)

She had no idea how she got back to the apartment, but Nelson was already there when the officer escorted her in. So was her father, her sister, and brother-in-law.

She was exhausted from crying, and from trying to recall the events of the day.

Nelson's story of the day's events hadn't crossed her mind. It was all too much to bear.

Sleep wouldn't come to her that night. She could barely believe what had happened, and she couldn't distinguish what was real anymore. Each time she closed her eyes, she relived the worst moments of her life. The T-shirt floating on the water, and Krista's little body as it twitched in the ambulance. Then the phone rang in the middle of the night.

“Jennifer, you need to come to St. John's right away,” said the doctor. “It's Krista. This can't wait.”

48

It was 5:00 a.m. and Jennifer was in the car with her sister Penny, and they were on their way to St. John's.

“Dad is going with Nelson,” said Penny from a distant place.

Jennifer could remember only pieces of the trip. Every now and again, there were lights from a community. At other times, she remembers watching her sister drive in silence.

But mostly it was as if her world had collapsed. Nothing was right. Nothing was as it should be.

Then, suddenly, by some means she couldn't recall, she was in the hospital. There was family all around. Nelson, Dad, her sister, cousins, and clergy. They were all there trying to support her.

A nurse brought her into a room. There Krista's little body lay on a table, being kept physically alive by life-support, but she was brain-dead.

“Jennifer, Krista is not going to make it. We have to take her off life-support, but we wanted to give you some time to say goodbye. But first we are going to go downstairs.”

She heard the words, but she had no idea who was speaking. It could have been her family or the doctor. She couldn't take her eyes from Krista, and she couldn't believe life had led her to this moment.

She could feel someone's arms holding her up, as the world went from brightness to darkness.

This isn't real
, she told herself. “Someone save my baby!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

Suddenly, all she wanted to do was see Karen. She tried to push away from the people holding on to her. She didn't realize they were trying to help her, not hold her back.

“I'm going down to see my daughter. If anyone tries to stop me, I'll limb this hospital today,” Jennifer shrieked.

Downstairs, Karen's cold, lifeless body lay on a table. Through the tears and anger, Jennifer began examining the little body from head to toe.

“Why is her vagina red?” she cried. “Did someone touch her!” she screamed louder still.

“No, Jennifer, that was because of the drowning,” a police officer said to her.

Feeling somewhat reassured, Jennifer wanted to pick up her little girl one last time.

She felt the pain pass through her entire body as she felt the coldness of her once bubbly little three-year-old. How was this possible?

Drenched in tears, she lifted Karen to hold her little head against her shoulder. She remembered the warmth and love when she held her daughters like this only a couple of days ago. Why was this being taken from her? She wanted to die.

“Perhaps Nelson would like to hold her, too?” she heard someone say.

She looked at Nelson's emotionless face through her own tears and passed Karen to him.

He picked up Karen, looked down at her, and immediately passed her back to Jennifer. He left the room to watch from outside. This had to be a dream.

Then Jennifer could feel herself being lowered into a chair. She was in a different room. Krista was in the arms of a nurse, or doctor—Jennifer wasn't sure. But Krista was placed in her arms, and at that moment she could focus on nothing but the little body. Her physical warmth was more comforting than when she held Karen, yet there was the same emptiness. The laughing, fun-loving little soul wasn't there anymore. The ventilator was turned off.

Jennifer straightened out Krista's hair, wishing she could sit her down and put curls in it. She wanted to get her a different outfit. Not this sterile hospital gown.

As she stroked Krista's hair, she sang a hymn. One she had sung to both girls many times in their short lives. She struggled through the tears and the agony to make sure she didn't mess up the words. That's when she realized, Krista, too, would soon be cold.

“No. No! You can't. This is a hospital! You can fix her! Save my baby, please!”

Jennifer had never cried so many tears at once. But as the tears started to slow, she realized that Krista had already died in her arms.

Her family gathered around Jennifer as Krista was taken to the morgue to be with her sister. Jennifer could see the agony in her father's face. But there was nothing anyone could do.

Her girls were gone. Krista's heart had stopped.

Throughout the ordeal, Nelson stayed outside the room and quietly watched through the glass.

49

The drive from St. John's back to Gander had never seemed so long. Penny was behind the wheel. Jennifer's father, Cyril, had reluctantly agreed to drive with Nelson, although he made it clear he didn't feel safe.

As they passed the gas station just on the outskirts of the city, Jennifer felt like they should have already been halfway there. Then there were the pieces of conversation with her sister. There were stretches of silence where she couldn't stop seeing her girls in her mind. She felt empty. Then, when she felt as though they were almost home, she'd see another landmark indicating they'd only driven a few kilometres. It was agony.

Time had stopped, and she had nothing. Her world was taken from her, and this drive was giving her plenty of time to think about it.

“Hello,” she heard Penny answering her phone. “Yes, Mervin.”

Penny passed the phone to Jennifer.

“Yeah,” she managed to say.

“Mom wanted me to call you,” said Mervin. “She wanted me to ask you what you are planning to put on the girls for their funeral. She wants to know if you've got their outfits picked out.”

Jennifer hung up.

To say she wasn't ready to talk about the funeral was an understatement.

Time stood still for the rest of the agonizing trip. The next thing she knew, she was back in the apartment. She was just waking up, even though she couldn't remember having gone to sleep. How long had she been asleep? Why did she still feel so tired? Where were the girls? The girls. It hit her like a punch in the stomach, and she lost them all over again. The past few days came rushing in. She began to cry uncontrollably.

Penny and Susan came into the room and rushed to her side. But there was nothing they could do for her.

After she had calmed down, they convinced her to come out into the kitchen so they could talk. But there was nothing Jennifer wanted to hear. Nothing she wanted, only her daughters. The tears started to flow again.

It was Nelson who suggested she take something to relax. The doctor had prescribed something to help her calm down. As soon as Nelson saw her becoming upset, he was there to give her the medication. She slept again.

“You gave them to the police!” She could remember the yelling. It was Nelson. Again, his voice was coming from a place that seemed far away.

“Why did you take my boots?” he was saying to Jennifer's brother-in-law.

“We have the same boots,” Winston said. “It was an honest mistake, Nelson. Now calm down.”

But as she became more focused, Jennifer understood that Nelson thought Winston had brought his boots to the police, and he was furious.

More sleep.

“This is important,” Penny was saying to her. They were standing in the girls' room.

On the bed there were several little matching outfits. A sight that brought Jennifer to her knees.

“The green dresses,” she told her sister. “That's what I want them to wear. They're also going to need shoes.”

“They don't put shoes on the body,” said Penny. “You don't need to worry about that.”

“My girls are wearing shoes,” she insisted. “Now take me over to the mall so I can buy them some.”

Jennifer looked through nearly every pair of shoes in the store. She couldn't decide. Finally, she settled on a pair of Winnie the Pooh sandals for each of them.

Then came the time to decide upon caskets. They had to be white. There was a white one available in Gander, but only one. That wasn't going to be good enough. Jennifer had the funeral home track down a matching casket nearly 400 kilometres away. At least the girls would have the caskets she wanted for them.

That night she was both mentally and physically exhausted, but there would be no sleep. Her sisters wanted her to talk, but that was the last thing she wanted. She no longer felt anything. Life, and the people in it, were becoming just one big blur. Nothing had any meaning.

As she lay in the bed, she didn't care about the conversations going on around her. She ignored most of it. But it was the rattling of bags that made her anxious this night and forced her to return to reality.

“What are you doing?” she asked Nelson and her sister. She was standing in the door to the girls' room, and she could see the drawers had been opened.

“Nelson thought it was best to get rid of the girls' things so it didn't upset you,” her sister said.

Jennifer was enraged. It was all she had left. Every little sock meant the world to her. They had no right to touch Krista's and Karen's clothes. How dare they! The two of them were in the bedroom, piling all the girls' belongings into garbage bags.

Jennifer shook with rage. “You've got five minutes to get every last piece of their stuff back where it belongs.”

50

Jennifer once more emerged from darkness. She was unsure whether or not she'd had a long sleep, or whether she'd been awake all night.

She was aware of the morning sun and that the apartment was full of life. But that wasn't out of the ordinary these days. It seemed like there was always someone there.

She staggered to the kitchen to see the family having breakfast. Someone was in the shower. Her father guided her to the table, although they all had a good idea she would not be convinced to eat again this morning.

“I've got your clothes ready, Jennifer,” said Susan. “After you get some food in your stomach, we'll go and get dressed.”

Jennifer looked at the plate in front of her. The last thing she wanted was food, while her little girls had nothing. They were lying alone in caskets at the funeral home. How could she eat?

Then she realized why everyone was so busy. This morning would be their first visit to the funeral home.

This would be her last chance to be a mother to her girls.

With a little help from her sister, she showered, did her hair, and got dressed.

She walked downstairs with her family and got into the car. For the past three years she didn't know what it was like to get into the car without first strapping the girls into their seats. It was another reminder. There were so many reminders these days.

She turned to look at the empty car seats, but they weren't there.

Jennifer wanted to ask Nelson what happened to the car seats, but there were more important things to think about this morning. Her girls were her first priority.

The funeral home was a maze of people, and tears. Every face she looked at was full of sorrow. They said things that all sounded the same. But through it all she kept a close eye on Karen and Krista. She made sure their outfits were perfect.

She eyed the people who continuously touched her daughters. And at the end of the visitation, she could see that their hair had been ruffled by the mourners who touched and kissed them. She didn't like it.

Tomorrow she would fix this.

When she came to the funeral home the next morning, she brought a curling iron and a comb. Again she went through the motions of hugging people, listening to their words, and trying to be strong. But her reality was lying in the caskets. They were all that mattered.

“It's time to go,” her sister told her at the end of that second evening.

But as soon as the last person had left, Jennifer walked straight over to an electrical outlet and plugged in the curling iron. Her sister was confused, but she could see Jennifer was determined.

She curled their hair and made sure every strand was in place. She fixed their clothes and looked them over until she was totally satisfied they were perfect.

“Okay, I'm ready to go.”

As she left the funeral home, she could hear the conversations of her family members in the lobby. She knew they were waiting for her, but she had very little interest in any of them.

Dad was asking Penny where the sympathy cards were. There were hundreds of cards, from all across the province, stacked in a pile near the door.