Presley

 

I absolutely love my fieldwork. It’s time consuming and hard, so most people dread it, but it’s been so reaffirming for me. Every time I start to question my decision to give up everything and move here, or wonder if I made the right decision, all it takes is an hour with these little guys to remind me that this is where I’m supposed to be. Music is healing and it touches more souls than just mine. I look over at little Noah, who is slowly rocking back and forth with his eyes closed, head thrown back in pure bliss. He taps each finger to his thumb three times as he rocks, exuding his excitement.

Noah is a new addition to this school. He had been in three different programs before he came here and nothing helped. He has intellectual delays as well as being bipolar and hard of hearing. He was premature and a drug baby, and his grandmother has raised him his whole life. At five-years-old, this poor little guy has so much stacked against him. When I arrived today, he was in the middle of an episode. He had three aides and the teacher all trying to calm him down. Because he is non-verbal, he can’t speak and has a very hard time communicating what he wants. When they can’t figure it out, he becomes aggressive. He was in the middle of throwing a chair across the room when I stepped in. I almost walked right back out to call my boss, but I decide it is too risky to wait, so I put my big girl panties on and jumped right in.

“Good morning, Mrs. Fiore! Would it be all right if the aides take the rest of the class on a recess break so we can get Noah calmed down a bit without anyone getting hurt?” I phrase it as a question, but my tone of voice and look on my face is nothing but a polite command. Luckily, the teacher smiles and sighs in relief as she sends the other students off with the aides. Reducing the noise and amount of people already helps some, but he is still throwing things and screaming. The teacher goes to stop him and I put up a finger. I quickly take out my bag of tricks and find my rain stick and quickly walk over to Noah. I stand behind him, making sure to stay out of hitting range. I don’t say anything to him, I just slowly turn over the rain stick behind his head. He has a book in his hand ready to chuck when he freezes for a moment, head turning slightly toward the noise.

I take three steps backwards, and once again turn the stick over. He puts the book down and starts to turn. I repeat, this time walking slowly toward the classroom’s cool down area. Mats and pillows line the space and it’s right next to an outlet, making it a perfect therapy spot. I grab a maraca and tambourine out of my bag. I add the maraca to the rain stick and slowly sit down on the mat. Noah instantly walks over to the mats and reaches out for the instruments. He still looked agitated. He chews the sleeve of his left arm as he reaches with his right.

“Good morning, Noah, it’s nice to see you today. I have a very cool tambourine here that I think you’d love to play with but I need you to take your arm down because it takes two hands.” I lightly place my hand on his arm, moving it from his mouth. He takes a swing at me with his right, but I’m able to duck it in time. Before he can try to hit me again, I place the tambourine in his left.

“You feel like hitting today, huh? Sometimes I do, too. The best thing about this instrument is when you hit it, a beautiful sound comes out. Let’s try, okay? Hold it with this hand and hit with your other.” Noah starts banging the tambourine and I place my hand on top of his to show him how to do it in a lighter motion. He starts to copy and I add the maraca.

“There, look at that, Noah…you are making music.”

I hold up the maraca for the teacher, who joins us on the mat with a look of thanks clear on her overworked face. I can’t imagine how taxing her job must be. I’m only with these kids an hour twice a week and it’s exhausting. As the teacher played the maraca with him, I continued with the rain stick while I fished my CD out of my bag. Popping it into the player, I choose a soothing song that we can play along to. The three of us play for ten minutes straight until the rest of the kids come back to class.

Once the rest of the class joined us, I gave each of the kids their own instrument. Noah laid his down, all played out, and I expect him to act up again, but he doesn’t. He remains sitting, just listening to the music as he rocks gently back and forth.

I step back from the group to grab my binder to fill out my data sheet.

“Are you sure you’re only an intern?” Mrs. Fiore whispers, coming up from behind. I chuckle and nod.

“Yep, and I’m fresh at that. This is all a whole new world to me.”

“I’d never have guessed, Presley. You’re such a natural at this, you’re going to go very far in this field.” I beam at her praise. I feel like a neglected sunflower reaching for the warmth of her compliments.

“I’ve always found music to be the balm for my soul. I figure if it can heal me, why not others? When I found out that music therapy was an actual thing, I wanted to weep with joy. It can heal even the most wounded…I deeply believe it.”

“It shows. If anyone had told me that Noah could be calmed so easily, I would never have believed it. He is such a sweet, sensitive boy, but he has so much stacked against him. I wish it was easier for him. Having a tool at his fingertips where he can learn to self-soothe is such a blessing.”

“Well, that’s the goal. Let me finish up this data and then I’ll start my one-on-one sessions. Now I can mark Noah off as done for the day.” I smile and go to work with my next student.

 

 

As I climb into my car, I pull my phone from my purse and my heart stops. I have fifteen missed calls and five text messages, all from Jodi. Luckily, the last message calms me before I think the worst.

Jodi: I just realized I probably freaked you out seeing all my calls. It’s not an emergency but something has happened, so call when you can.

 

Jodi: I Just remembered you are interning today and that’s why you haven’t called me. Sorry. Ignore the frantic calls.

 

Jodi: Where are you? I know you don’t have class today! CALL ME NOW!

 

Jodi: Pick up your phone!

 

Jodi: We need to talk.

I don’t waste time listening to her voicemails, I just dial her and she answers after one ring.

“Presley!”

“Good Lord, what’s wrong? Are you okay? I’m seriously freaking out here, Jodi.”

“I’m sorry, girl, I’m fine, I promise, but I talked to my mom today, who gave me some really bad news. I can’t believe I’m just now hearing about this, but Barrett’s little brother Codi died two weeks ago.”

“What!” I am so shocked I drop my phone down the seat.

“Crap! Hold on, Jodi, I dropped you…one second.” I reach down and try to grab ahold of the phone. After coming up with nothing but a few straw wrappers, a handful of old Cheetos, and a hair tie, I finally get a good grip on it I haul it back up and see it’s connected still.

“Sorry. Are you serious, Jo? I can’t get over that we just saw him. What happened?”

“A horrible accident, apparently. He forgot his chin strap to his helmet and there was an illegal hit or something, and knocked off his helmet. Barrett saw the whole thing, Pres.” I don’t know either guy very well, but I feel sick hearing this.

“Poor Barrett. How is he?”

“Brian said it’s really bad. He’s not taking it well either since Codi was his best friend, but Barret won’t even see him. Apparently, that’s not all. Barrett was so upset that he punched the walls and broke his right hand and three fingers on his left.” I gasp at the news and instantly the tears start to fall.

“Oh my God, Jodi, that means he can’t sign.”

“Or drive,” Jodi adds.

“He must feel completely trapped and helpless.”

“Brian doesn’t know where he lives since Codi never let him go there. I think he was ashamed of it, so he can’t check on him, but he’s stopped by his uncle’s shop a few times and Randy said he isn’t doing well. Anyway, I thought you might want to know.”

“Yeah, I’m so glad you told me. You didn’t happen to get the address to his uncle’s shop, did you?”

“I thought you might want it, so yeah, I did. I’ll text it to you. Let me know if I can do anything. Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I don’t think he’s going to even want to see me right now. I mean, I’m practically a stranger, but I can’t not go.”

“I know, girl. No worries, I was actually thinking of going home myself tonight to check on my brother, so I’ll ride over with you if you don’t mind dropping me off.” This sparks an idea.

“Actually, that’d be great. If we stopped at the store and picked up a few things, do you think your mom would let me use her kitchen?”

“Of course she would. Swing by and get me. I’m ready whenever.”

 

 

The worst feeling in the world to me is feeling helpless. Maybe it’s because I come from a family of surgeons…it’s just what we do…we fix people. Give us a problem and we fix it. Death is one of those things for which there is no fix. There’s no right or wrong emotion or formula to follow. But being who I am I have to do something, so I make a lasagna, chicken and dumpling soup, and a batch of brownies. Jodi laughed at me but it didn’t stop her from pitching in. Now that I’m standing at the garage with an armload of food, I feel ridiculous. I decide to put the food back in my car until after I talk to Randy. I take a deep breath and open the door to the front office.

There’s a guy in his twenties at the counter on the phone, and he smiles and puts up a finger, mouthing one second. I smile back, but feel like I want to throw up a bit. I don’t even know these guys…what on earth am I doing here? Like bringing them carbs is going to change things? I’ve about talked myself right out the door when the guy hangs up and looks up at me.

“Sorry about that. Can I help you?”

“Oh, no problem. Um, is Randy here by chance?” He chuckles a bit and takes a long look at me.

“By chance he is,” he says, obviously mocking me, but it’s in good humor. He picks the phone back up and pushes a button.

“Hey Randy, there’s someone out front for you. Will do.”

“He said he will be out in a bit. You’re welcome to take a seat. There’s coffee over there in the corner, help yourself.”

“Okay, thanks so much.” I hurry to a chair and sit down. The guy has what looks like a parts magazine in front of him and he’s writing up some kind of order. I look around and I’m pretty impressed by the place. It’s a smaller shop, but very well taken care of. You can tell it’s a labor of love. Since there’s nothing else to do I take a good look at the guy. I’d place him in his early twenties, maybe twenty-two or so. He has one sleeve of tattoos going down his left arm. His hair is long and blond and pulled back in a ponytail. He glances up and sees me looking at him, so he tosses me a wink, which of course causes me to turn ten shades of red. Naturally, Randy chooses this moment to come out. The shock at seeing me is all over his face.

“Presley? Hi.”

“You remember me?”

“Of course. You having car trouble?”

“Oh, um, no, I was actually hoping I could talk to you. I hope it’s okay that I just showed up like this.”

“Of course it is. Why don’t you come back to my office? Chris, hold all my calls, okay? Once you finish writing up Mr. Forester’s order, can you call Gene and let him know I’m going to need him early tomorrow? I have to get the Chevy out of here by noon at the latest.”

“Sure thing, boss. Nice to meet you, Presley.”

“Thanks. You too.”

I follow Randy back into a smaller office. A window takes up an entire wall and you can see right into the garage, where there’s one guy working on a red car.”

“It helps me keep an eye on what’s going on when I’m stuck in here. Please sit down. How can I help you, Presley?”

“Actually, I feel a little weird coming here like this, especially since I don’t really know him that well, but I was worried about Barrett. I um, well, I heard about Codi, and I just wanted to tell you how horribly sorry I am, and to see how Barrett is doing, and if I can help at all.”

Just mentioning Codi seems to take everything out of Randy. He sighs and loses his smile.

“That’s very sweet of you, honey. The truth of it is, B isn’t doing so hot right now. I’m very worried about him, and I wish there was something you could do, but I just don’t think there’s anything that can be done. He’s in a very dark place right now, sweetheart, and I have no clue what to do for him.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. I heard that he broke his hand and a few fingers?”

“Yeah, worst thing that could happen to him after…well…everything. He’s like a caged tiger right now with no outlet. He can’t drive, can’t sign, not that he would, even if he was able to right now. He’s kept to himself and won’t come out of his room. I can’t get him to eat or even talk to me.”

“Can he? Talk, I mean.” He looks at me skeptically and I’m quick to add, “I only ask because some of the kids I work with can’t. Signing is their only form of communication. I was worried that he wouldn’t have the means to communicate now.”

“Well, can he? Yes, he is able. Barrett didn’t go fully deaf until he was six. That’s his story to tell if he wants, but he had speech before that. Of course, now that he can’t hear and going so long without sound, you lose a lot of that. He used to get teased something awful, so he stopped talking to anyone but Codi and I. But he won’t even talk to me right now. I just don’t know what to do. I feel as though I’ve lost both of my nephews in one swoop.” He looks close to tears and I have no clue what to do, so I place my hand on top of his.

“I’d like to try and talk to him, if I can. I have no clue what I’ll say, to be honest, but I don’t think anyone should go through something like this alone and without an outlet. Would it be okay if I see him? I brought some food,” I add lamely.

“Well, that was thoughtful of you. I can’t say that I’m much of a cook, so nothing I’ve made has enticed him much to eat. Maybe you can do that, at least.”

“I can try.”

“I have a few more things to finish up here. Barrett was one of my best guys, with him out it has me scrambling a bit. But once I tie a few things up, I can take you over to the house and come back to close. He’s staying with me for a while.” That’s all he says, but I’m guessing there’s a lot more to that story. According to Brian, the boys lived with their dad. Their mom has been gone for a few years, and Brian didn’t have anything good to say about their dad.

“I’ll wait for you out front. Take your time.”

I’m not one for being idle, and when I offered to help out, Chris jumped at the chance. He handed me a stack of receipts to be filed, and once that was done, he mentioned being low on supplies, so with a list and supply catalog, I am happily ordering away when Randy finds me.

“Seriously, Chris? You put her to work?!”

“Dude, she offered, and when do we ever turn anyone down willing to work around here? Just taking my cues from the boss man.” Chris shoots me another wink and a wide smile, then opens a drawer and takes out a Snickers bar. “I always pay my debts. Chicks dig chocolate, right? Here you go, darling.” He tosses me the candy bar, and I’m not going to lie, I’m perfectly happy getting paid in junk food. I tear it open and take a bite. Even though it was a semi-sexist comment, I’m not going to balk because I do indeed dig chocolate.

“Win-win for sure.”

“I knew you were my kind of people. You are welcome back here anytime, love.”

“Don’t mind Christopher, he doesn’t know how to breathe without flirting. You ready to go?”

“Yep. Chris, take it easy, dude.” I give him a fist bump, which was something he had to show me how to “blow up” earlier. Randy rolls his eyes and follows me out the door.

“You want to follow in your car or do you want a ride?”

“All the food is in my car, so it just makes sense to follow, that way you don’t have to bring me back later.” He gives me a salute and gets into his truck. I follow him out of the industrial area to a small suburb. I’m a bit surprised when he pulls up to a small little cottage style home. It screams family, and as far as I know, Barrett’s uncle is a confirmed bachelor. Randy hops out of his truck and opens my car door.

“I need to get back to the shop if you think you’re okay here?” He looks worried and exhausted, and my heart instantly feels for him. I place my hand on his arm and give him a smile.

“Of course, I appreciate you taking the time to bring me here. He will be okay, Randy, I know this is a horrible time, but you guys will get through it together. Even though he probably can’t tell you, I’m sure he really appreciates all you’ve done for him.” He tears up but doesn’t say anything.

“I doubt I’ll still be here by the time you get home, so there will be a lasagna and soup in the fridge, and I’ll leave the brownies on the counter. Make sure you have a good dinner tonight, okay?”

“Bless you, child.” He kisses the top of my head, then hops in his truck and pulls out. I stand on the porch for a good five minutes before I can talk myself into going inside. Here goes nothing.