The New Explorers

Author: Cecilia

Email: cecihz@adinet.com.uy

Rating: PG



I want to thank Suz, who corrected my spelling and gave me great
suggestions, and totaltotal, who beta read it too and show me how it could
be improved.


I keep making changes all the time, so there are probably new mistakes; I
hope they won’t bother the reading.


All the characters belong to D.Hollander.


Fanny was a great woman that gave a lot of help to lots of people. As Suz
would say, I tip my hat to her memory!


(I first thought of this for the summer challenge, but then change it a bit
to be a part of the challenge at the N/LL; that´s why I´m posting it in
both sites)

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Dear Laurie,

I know I could try to email you this, instead of writing papers; but
letters are much better souvenirs of people gone, and I’m pretty much
gone now.

I didn’t do my best to see you right after I quit the clinic. We almost met
at Lulu’s once, and I saw you at the front door of the courthouse another
time, checking your watch and waiting for someone (Nick? He was always late
for his hearings.).


You are the most righteous person I’ve ever met, and I hadn’t the words to
explain what I was about to do.

The overwhelming feelings of being useless, made me think of putting an end
to everything. Besides, things were going down hill at the clinic, and I
realized I hadn’t prepared anybody to replace me there. My “opus” and I
were slowly declining and I didn’t have the strength to watch it.


I changed my mind when I met little Anne Archer. There’s something about
babies, you know? Or is it the mere thought of how I abandoned my son
fifteen years ago? Thing is, I started to think about living, and more and
more, setting myself free.


Since I met Nick and Lulu, I felt I had a certain paternal responsibility
towards both of them: they arrived to my clinic in different circumstances,
having what appeared to be opposite lives, when in the marrow they were
scared lonely kids, like many of those we tried to represent.


My attempts to help Lulu were completely unsuccessful, but not a surprise:
she has this shield to protect her from the outside. And who would blame
her after meeting her father? Before leaving I contacted Fanny, a friend
whom I trust could make big deal with her. Fanny let down her children (the
youngest a DS boy) for the booze. I thought she had the experience and
tenderness to reach to Lulu, break her armor and show her there’s a way for
her and Nick. I think she does love him; she just has to learn to trust
again. (I write “just” and realize this is probably the hardest part of
love, and a tough task when your heart has already been shattered. I hope
this baby- and my friend-can do the miracle).

I had a long conversation with Nick (who I also asked Fanny to care for) in
my role of sponsor. (I’m breaking the twelfth step, but I guess once you
cross the Equator you can have some extra liberties. ) His life had turned
a wreck by then and I tried to make him see there was a chance if he just
let people help him. (Here I am again using “just” in the most
inappropriate way!). I know he is willing to be a father and believes he
can carry that burden. But truth is, dear Laurie, this is exactly one of
those things we are hardly ready for, even if we want to. He felt moved
when he learnt about the ALS, so I shamelessly manipulated him in order to
make him listen. (I might’ve had exaggerated, so I’m asking you to let him
know I’m okay). The Fallins are men of one only woman, so I’m sure he and
Lulu will get together sooner or later: they need time to heal and grow up.

But enough of them.


As I was saying, I thought about killing myself a lot. The idea of becoming
more and more dependant was too depressing to bear for someone like me. I
even thought I could jump from the Seventh Street Bridge…go figure!


I know leaving for Antarctica seemed odd, but I felt it was the largest
free unexplored place, and that was what I needed, since my body started to
be my own prison. Problem was I hadn’t asked before leaving Pittsburgh…and
when I arrived in Argentina I was told I had to wait until November for the
first plane or ship to take me to the Antarctic bases. So here I am, stuck
in an old hotel, watching the River Plate, and taking tango lessons.

Are you laughing?


People are nice, and well used to clumsy tourists stumbling over their
feet. They don’t know about my being sick, what spares me a lot of pity
looks.
I feel free and alive again.

Would you consider taking some weeks off and come to visit me? I think we
have a lot of things to talk about, and could be our last chance (and no,
I’m not trying to manipulate you, too). This place is beautiful, the air is
clear and fresh, the sky is amazing during the nights, and you can have the
best steaks you’ve ever tasted.

Have I convinced you?


Please, come. I’d really love to see you again. We have a long story
together, and why not make the last chapter you and me dancing tango in
Montevideo?

 


I’ll be waiting for you.

Love,
A.

PS: My geography notions haven’t disappeared, and I know I’m not in
Argentina any longer. But when I found out I had to wait five months, I
decided to tour around. The moment I arrived here I fell in love with this
city.


Come. We won’t disappoint you.

THE END