Errant Thoughts Story, Part 6

Susan stared bleakly at the letter in her shaking hands. This was the final straw; she hadn't been accepted into the nursing program. The form letter suggested she try again next year. "Ha! And will you want me after I've been homeless for a year?"

There was a catch in her chest and suddenly she was wheezing and gasping for air. On some level she knew it was a panic attack, but that didn't mean she had any control over it. Tears were streaming down her face, her lungs burned and she clutched the wall by the time the attack passed. Sinking to the floor, she whispered, "I don't know what to do."

She sat and thought about the stories Dave had told them. There were entire families hitchhiking, trying to find someplace they could afford to live and work. Even more disturbing were the children that had been abandoned at truck stops by parents who couldn't feed them. At least those that were taken by the state had a chance for shelter and food, but Susan couldn't imagine the despair those parents must have felt to drive away from their own children, not knowing what would happen to them.

With her thoughts spinning around in fruitless circles, she gave up on finding any answers on her own and made her way to the Perkins' apartment. Mrs. Perkins gave her tea and a friendly ear. Finally, when Susan ran out of things to say, her hostess spoke, "You never talk about Danny's father."

"Oh. Well, it all happened so long ago, I don't think about Ryan much. When Danny was little, my husband killed himself. He wasn't a bad man; he just couldn't cope. We lived in California and one day he walked into the ocean. Danny doesn't remember him."

"What about his family? His parents?"

"I haven't seen or heard from them in fifteen years. They blamed me for his death." Susan sat lost in long ago, sad memories. "Do you recall a movie where the parents blamed a teacher for their son's suicide? Because, of course, it couldn't have had anything to do with them. That's what it was like with Ryan's family."

Mrs. Perkins nodded, "So, if you have no relationship with them, you have nothing to lose by asking them for help."

"What? They would never help me."

"But maybe they would help their grandson."

"I don't even know if they still live in the same town or if I have their address anymore."

"Swallow your pride. Write them a letter. It can't make things worse."

Susan went back to her apartment and began searching. She dug through the files of bills and receipts. Then she pulled out the photo albums and scrap books; these slowed her down as she flitted backwards through Danny's childhood. Finally, she dug out the boxes from the back of the closet; the ones that held her high school diploma and letters from long forgotten friends. There she found a birthday card to her husband from his parents with the return address still attached. Armed with the address, she sat down at the table and began to write.

Part 7