The computer cursor blinked accusingly. I pulled down the shades to keep out the draft and lit the heater. I pulled the heater next to my desk and warmed my hands and feet. The phone rang and the machine picked up. It was Adam saying he would pick up dinner and be home in about an hour. I started to slowly string together some sentences to form my conclusion but I was suddenly convinced that everything I had written, the entire premise of my paper, was wrong. What did I think I was doing? I couldn’t do this. I had been deluding myself all semester. I had wasted three months on an inherently flawed thesis. The phone interrupted me again. My mother’s disembodied voice floated through the house as she left a message in her phony holiday voice. “Hi, sweetie. I was just checking to see if you bought Grandma’s Christmas potholders yet. I’m going to the store tomorrow so I’ll just pick them up for you, okay? Are you going to bake your candy cane cookies this year? I need to know before I place the bakery order tomorrow. I’ll just talk to you later, dear. Bye-bye.”
I shut the bedroom door forcefully so that any further phone ringing or message leaving would be muffled. I was determined to remain at my desk until the final paragraph of my paper was written. I became sleepy and couldn’t keep my eyes open but I would not to leave my desk. I pushed the keyboard to the side, crossed my arms on top of my desk and then lay my head on my arms. Wisely, Esther rejects her mother’s plea, “We’ll act as if all this were a bad dream.” Esther considers for a moment, “Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, should numb and cover them.” The snow on my face woke me up as Adam carried me out to the ambulance. I finished the paper from my hospital bed as I recovered from carbon monoxide poisoning. Adam delivered it to Professor Birdseye for me. I received an A and it was scheduled to be published in January. I graduated as planned but with little fanfare. Adam and I had a private celebration at a bed and breakfast in Montauk. The town was nearly deserted except for the locals. It felt like the world had ended and we were the only ones left as we strolled hand in hand along the sparkling snow-covered streets. “Is it too cold out for you?” Adam asked. “No. I dressed warm and it’s good to be outside.” “How’s your head today?” Adam knew the answer but he wanted to hear me say it again. “Day ten and I still feel good. I can’t believe it. When I remember how sick I was, it feels so far away. Like a dream, a nightmare. I hope it’s really over.” When I regained consciousness in the hospital my migraine had been worse than ever. I finally surrendered my principles and began taking a mild anti-depressant. I had already gained five pounds and was sleeping ten to twelve hours a day but the doctor said I should adjust to these side effects soon. I still moved tentatively, afraid to disturb the delicate balance my neurons had finally achieved, like someone recovering from a long illness. We returned to our room and I curled up on the couch with a book while Adam lit the fireplace. “Isn’t it time for your pill, honey? “I just took it” I lied easily without looking up from my book. “What are you reading?” A slight smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I rubbed my temple. “Oh, more Plath. Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams. I never did get to it during the semester.” But Esther refuses to forget. It was not a bad dream. It really did happen. An integral part of her psyche that she will not discard: “They were my landscape."
Did You Miss Chapter One Of The Last Class? It's Right Here. How About Chapter Two Of The Last Class? It's Right Here.