11. EXPLAIN THE NOMAD AWAY

Everyday I waited for my mom to tell me I was going to boarding school. Till one day after school when I was grabbing a glass of milk and a couple of cookies she walked into the kitchen and said, “Anne, we need to talk.” It was my Lana Turner mom with blonde hair. I knew it was serious.

I rolled my eyes and sat down in one of her overstuffed chairs. “Ok.”

“Come sit by me.” She patted the seat on the couch next to her.

I moved, knowing this moment was different from any other waiting for the two words I dreaded hearing. She began again taking my chin in her hand and pulling my face toward hers. “I’m taking you to a special doctor tomorrow.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing, like that. A doctor you can talk to.”

My mind was spinning. No word about boarding school, but I was going to a doctor I could talk to? What could this mean? There wasn’t time to run to the stables, so I settled myself in front of the TV to watch Batman, but couldn’t stay concentrated on the story line. I was panicked about seeing this doctor.

The next day we left for the doctor’s office. Barely a word was spoken between the two of us. We arrived at a red stone square office building and on my mother’s cue I got out of the car. The building smelled medicinal and I was sure she was taking me to a doctor that was going to remove my brain to analyze it. I imagined his office to look like a laboratory fitted with a chain saw to go through my head to remove my brain for his perusal.

The nurse greeted us in the traditional attire, which only confirmed my fears. “The doctor is ready to see Anne.”

My mother escorted me to a door and practically pushed me forward. I turned with a look in my eye to say, ‘aren’t you coming with me?’ when my mom said, “I’ll be waiting out here.”

The room was dimly lit and a man of average size sat behind a big desk. He gestured me in and said, “Take a seat Anne. I’m Dr. Albright.”

I was scanning the room for a chain saw. A wall full of thick hard backs decorated one wall. Although there were several windows each was dressed to allow as little sunlight as possible to peak into the room but I saw no chain saw or sharp objects of any kind. Phew.

I found a seat on an over stuffed couch and waited for him to continue. “Anne your mother has asked me to speak with you about a couple of things.”

I noticed his eyes were not looking at me. They weren’t really focused anywhere that I could tell.

“Let me begin by telling you I am blind, but can hear perfectly.”

I tested this by making a series of faces that any man who could see would surely say something faking or not.

“I am a doctor of philosophy and I hold a PhD. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes, it means you can prescribe drugs.”

“Close enough. Back to why you are here.”

Again with the faces, just to be sure.

“Did your mother tell you why you are here?”

“No.”

“Your mother wanted me to talk to you about how you feel. If you are happy.” He looked to me for an answer. I didn’t know what to say.

“Yes, I’m happy. As happy as can be.” I sung.

“What do you mean by that?” Staring at the adjacent wall away from me.

“Well, I miss my dad.”

“How do you deal with that?”

“I ride horses.”

“Your mother doesn’t think you are happy and she is worried about you.”

“I don’t think she is happy either. When my dad died my happiness died too.”

“You have every right to feel sad Anne, but you must go on with your life and find your happiness. It’s been a few years now. It’s what your father would want.”

“Did you know my dad?” More faces.

His eyebrows rise as these words penetrate his working ears. “No, but I am a father.”

He gets no response from me.

One hour later, insulted my mom had paid a blind guy to give me news she was too chicken to. Instead of Europe I was desert bound, solo. Tears streamed down my cheeks, “Why? Why? Why? Is it because you caught me putting my head in the pool when you told me not to go swimming? I didn’t go in! Only my head! That isn’t technically swimming!” I cried.

“That isn’t it Anne darling, I think you would do better with more direction in your life. It’s not that I don’t love you (yeah right, all parents send their kid to boarding school at 11 because they love them so much), and this will be good for you. They have horses...” She knew I was a sucker for a horse. “Swimming pools, tennis courts, it’s a wonderful school. Everything you love to do is there!”

I whined for days, while watching my mom iron on name labels to all of my clothes but my mom’s mind was made up. She took me shopping for my fall school wardrobe. It was going ok until we got to the bathing suits.

“Mom, there are cups in this suite! Look at how big they make my boobs look!” I had been cursed with my mother’s bosom and blossomed early. At 11 my body looked like a 16 year old. I was sure she just wanted to cover up as much of me as she could without putting me in a body bag to do the breaststroke. I was totally humiliated when the sales clerk poked her head in the dressing room and said, ‘Oh yes, that suite is perfect on her. Good choice’. While her eyes never left my bust all saddled into those massive cups that only added to my already developed boobs in these $50 suits.

My mother cooed, “Look at you all grown up.” I wanted to remind her I was 11 but already resigned to the life of being the daughter born too late but on the road to a fast recovery. I gave into my mom and told myself I’d throw them away when I got to school and then tell the headmistress that my mom forgot to buy me one, even though they listed bathing suites 4 times on the suggested list of clothes to bring. Maybe this would put me at an advantage in the new place if they thought my mom was a little slow on the uptake.