Ramblings of a Survivor

“Do Justice, love Mercy, and walk Humbly with your God.”

My fingers nimbly turned to find the verse: an easy target. This was one of my “hope” verses – it was highlighted in my New Moment’s Children’s bible At a young age, I had discovered the “notes” section nestled in the frail pages – and I’d started a list of verses that were meaningful to me.

II Corinthians 12:9 – “My Grace is sufficient for you”

I Corinthians 13:12 “We see through a glass, darkly”

Isaiah 1:18: “Come now, let us reason together”

Luke 6:37: “Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven”

Ephesians 1:7: “In whom we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace”

All of these were Scritptures of hope, recovery, and absolution. Is that what I was seeking — am seeking? Is this what I dream of as I tell my story? Yes. This. I want to have peace…forgiveness…resolution.

PHILIPPEANS 4:6:

“And the peace that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus”………

Does it have to have that last prepositional phrase? Is that essential…is that descriptive essential? Can peace guard my heart and mind without belief in Christ?

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Ian turned abruptly from pouring the drink he was working on for the customer a few chairs down from me; the 1930s suspenders and crisp white shirt crinkling as his hands continued to work. His eyes suddenly focused on mine – his attention on me, not on the concoction he was creating; his body adeptly dancing behind the bar while his eyes never left mine: a server handed him an order, which he took. Watching him was enthralling. He moved around the bar, gracefully, yet mechanically. Reaching for bottles without even pausing as our conversation ebbed and flowed…automatic.

“Wait, WHAT? You freaking escaped WHAT??? Wait. WHAT?!?!?!”

He set the chocolate martini and ticket down on the server’s tray without even glancing at them.

He placed both hands on either side of my place setting:

“WHAT????”

My head dropped. My fork picked at the blue cheese steak wedge salad that had become my usual order at this posh Beverly Hills bar.

“Ugh. Too many of those damn Dead Baby drinks.” I finished threw back the drink in front of me and backtracked. “It wasn’t a huge deal. Just a weird childhood.”

Ian stared me in the eyes. “This I HAVE to hear.” he said.

The screech of a bar stool against the floor broke the interaction. A handsome, polished man slid into the seat next to me.

“Come here often?”

My eyes rolled, and I glanced up at Ian, desperate for him to stop the coming barrage.

“Yeah, she’s a regular. Wouldn’t wrangle with her, if I were you. But – what can I get you.”

The man tipped his head toward me me. “Tough cookie, eh?”

“You can ask him directly, but I have a reputation for not tolerating bullshit at my watering hole.”

I turned back to my salad.

What had just happened? My therapist had told me to start sharing but obviously I don’t know what i’m doing.

“Well. Ok. Enjoy your salad.”

Why did I choose Ian – IAN – as the first person to tell??? What was I thinking???

“AAAAAH!!!!! MELISSA!” Squeals of delight bounced behind me.

I turned to see a beautiful young face, framed by pin straight blonde hair; she skipped up to me as I slid off my bar stool.

“KATIE!”

I wrapped my arms around my friend, suddenly completely present and at peace in this dimly lit hotel bar.

“Let me order your drink…..I mean….no one has to know you’re a freshman, right?”

“Ian, can I have another of these? No wait. Something easier.”

“Sure.”

Katie perched her thin, lanky body into the bar chair next to mine; its posh white leather encompassed her awkward, uncomfortable movements, giving her space to adjust and figure out where it was.

“You think they’ll know I’m not 21 yet?” She settled in, absorbing the richness and sophistication: certainly not a place that most 19 year olds remember most of their first drinks.

“Friend, I have you.”

We fell into the beauty of back and forth conversation about our day…

We’d had quite the day. We’d learned that the third part of our trio was engaged, and moving off to Cambridge to work on her Master’s degree. She was our joy…someone who just knew how to break through the intensity of our lives, someone who had lived a life outside of our experience, and had maintained an absolute hold on family and friends in a way that Katie and I were just learning about…..and she was a bit of an actual celebrity- a child actor on one of the most successful shows in history. Andrea held her cards close. She was someone who meant the world to us – and the only of us three who seemed to have her life “together.”

I could feel the man behind me listening. I knew it was coming – I knew the conversation he’d overheard earlier would be more than he could resist.

He broke in….”SO what’d you escape?”

Katie glanced at me her eyes saying everything her voice wasn’t, “What the hell is this guy talking about?”

“Um. What the F are you talking about?” I turned toward him without turning my chair – stiff and unwelcoming. My face riffled with disgust and feigned shock at his intrusion.

“I heard and then saw the bartender react to your comment. Now my curiosity is up”

Looking around the room, I fluffed my feathers and said, “Ha. That ain’t a story for a bar.”

Katie looked flustered, and awkward.

With his back turned to us, I saw Ian look over his shoulder, “I usually sqaush these inquiries, but seriously, what the heck? I’ve known you for a couple years, what do you mean you escaped Budapest? I know you taught English there, but escape?” He turned toward me, offering another shot for all three of us.

Katie looked at me with confusion.

“Oh, please tell me you aren’t that oblivious? I lived in Hungary in 1994!!!! Do you guys know history at all? Can you imagine ever experiencing life post-Berlin wall in eastern Europe?? Lord Almighty.”

Silence.

They all three checked the others’ expressions: “Don’t want to be the one who doesn’t get it” was written on all their faces, and they went with it…

I chuckled: “Yeah. I escaped. And, Ian, KATIE! You know me – I’m dramatic! Come on, let’s just have a shot.”

Crisis avoided. Who cares if it wasn’t honest? CRISIS AVOIDED

I was flooded with a hope that I could do life outside my past…I could manage all these story lines. Pride at my talent for shifting focus bolstered my confidence….my therapist be damned. No one needed to know, she was wrong. I didn’t need to share my story….my imagination was powerful enough to figure out how to reinvent my life so that I could actually LIVE.

I could LIVE without the confines of my truth. I could create my life as I needed it to be.

Justice be damned. I hadn’t ever seen it.

Mercy be damned. Who had given it to me?

Humility be damned. No one needed to know.