"His Hands" by Ramey-Gilman

“TO SUFFER WITHOUT MORAL VALIDITY

by Susan Dunn

“And whether he lives,

or whether he dies…”

Louis was baptizing a baby at 10:15,

When at 10:00 he had stood with his arm firmly around the assistant minister

Impossibly young, as they all are,

Barely shaving,

And smiled as he asked us to welcome Paul back.

Paul had been on leave, and wanted a longer one,

But Louis, kind Louis, wise Louis,

Had asked Paul to come right back to work,

“To be among us,” Louis said.

Paul had taken his 3 year old to a swimming pool supply store,

Letting his pregnant wife have some time off alone back at the house,

And while he wasn’t looking,

The little girl wandered off,

As they will do,

And drowned in a display pool,

Of all preposterous things.

It wasn’t even 5’ wide

It wasn’t more than 3’ deep.

‘How could a child find the one place…’

I’m thinking to myself,

And Paul was smiling,

In a way that made my blood run cold,

And the soul of the congregation lay like a frozen carcass,

As many of us heard this for the first time,

The sort of smile you would expect,

From a young man supposed to represent Faith in the very God who, because He hadn’t been looking either,

Made it necessary for Paul to have to go back home

And tell a pregnant wife that,

Because this attention was not paid,

Their 3 year old had drowned.

That while he was looking at the labels of pool chemicals to compare prices in that anal way of his,

For a lousy $10 bag of chloride,

Turning what should have been a 10-minute errand into a killing-time,

And making this simple Saturday morning

The last simple Saturday morning the two of them would ever know,

When they’d kept her alive for 3 years

With a goddam pool in their own backyard …

And I think that now being angry at her husband

Over the crimping of the toothpaste tube,

And the dirty towels on the floor,

Is a luxury this woman can no longer afford.

I can see her face.  I can hear her,

“She what?  What are you saying? Are you telling me she’s dead?”

And then she would have to sleep with this man,

Her pregnant belly between them,

He, the maker of life,

He, the taker of life,

And someone would be expected to comfort someone.

I am incredulous at this circumstance

And I picture Louis telling her that she must forgive him.  Forgive him?

And far harder,

Louis will also be telling Paul he must forgive himself.

And I’m thinking for a fleeting moment about my son who virtually drowned in our backyard pool

And had to be resuscitated

And end my thought immediately, as I always do,

Because some things you just don’t think about.

The glimpse of the death of your child informs you that you don’t want a longer look at it.

Period.

I’m a lucky person I tell myself.

I’m a good mother.

I take care of my kids.

I’m much older too.

And the same words are on the mouths of every other parent listening

While outside some Mexican on the southside is making the sign of the evil eye.

And I’m thinking about the young parents whose baby is being baptized,

How brave they are,

But they won’t be thinking that way of course,

Because they’re young and those words have no meaning to them.

They know it would never happen to them. 

How fragile it all sounds to me,

I say a silent prayer,

And congratulate myself,

That both of mine have made it –

To 28 and 18.

And now,

When one of them has made it to 30,

But the other did not make it to 22,

And the glimpse of the death of a child

Became a look into the abyss,

I repeat to myself,

“And whether he lives,

Or whether he dies…”

And I would like to go see Louis

And ask him

Was there something he left out

Is there anything else he could possibly say

I’ve asked everyone else.

And I know that if I did,

Louis, kind Louis, wise Louis,

Would give the only answer there is –

To put his arm around me

So at least I would know I was still a human being

And welcome among human beings.

Susan Dunn's son Chester had several nicknames, possibly more than most childen and possibly not. You be the judge.

Chetty Chetty Bang Bang

Chester the Molester

Chester the Jeser

Chetty Machete

PapaSOTO

Sam the Man

Sammy the Bull

Sam-I-Am, Sam-What-Am

Chester lived his entire short life in Texas. Here are sme Texas bluebonnets to remember Chester by. Please speak his name.