Page 18 of The Rhythm of their Souls

When I was younger, I didn’t comprehend how she held it together so well. But as I grew, I understood why. She was the big sister, and she felt she needed to be strong for me. She was taking on a role that wasn’t meant to be hers. I’ve always admired her strength.

I’d give anything to be young again in this treehouse with Nora. Just one last visit as kids. Those childhood memories are what I cling to. I hold on to them so tightly. Because in those little kernels were happiness. We could forget how fucked-up our lives were. We could pretend that we weren’t born into a never-ending shit cycle of blood genetics.

Yeah, maybe it was only for a moment. But it was just enough to keep my splintered heart beating. I take one last look at the place that helped me fight for my once-tender life. One day, Nora and I will come here again and watch the moon together. One last time.

Chapter 12

Age eight

“Nora, Nora, wake up!” I scream out in a panic.

Nora frantically jumps out of the bed. “Olive, what the heck is going on?”

I am so worked up that I struggle to voice to her what I just witnessed. I stumble on my words. Nora quickly crouches in front of me and grabs my face, forcing me to focus only on her.

And in the calmest manner, she says to me, “It’s okay, Olive Oil. I’m right here. Tell me what is wrong.” She then gently swipes sweaty strands of hair from my face, ensuring each piece rests behind my ears. I slow my breathing and concentrate.

Once I finally find the words, I speak. “ I, uh, went to use the bathroom. And when I cut the light on, I saw Mom naked in the bathtub. There was white, foamy stuff coming out of her mouth. I got scared and ran out to get you! I don’t know if I was dreaming.”

Tears flood my worried eyes. Nora’s face turns ghost white, which tells me I may not be dreaming this. Before I can say anything else, she picks me up and sits me on her bed. “I need you to stay right here and do not move. Do you understand me?” she says sternly. I nod my head.

Nora rushes out of the room. And now I am left with my pounding heart. There is a weird, heavy feeling in my chest, which is making it hard for me to breathe.

Please be a nightmare, please be a nightmare. Nora runs back into the room and stands me up. She is trying to stay calm, but panic is written all over her face. Her voice rattles out a response. “Listen to me, Olive; I need you to be strong for me, okay? We do not have time. We have to be quick!”

She grabs my hand before I can ask what’s happening and charges towards the bathroom.

This is very much real. Mom is lying inside the tub, naked in the fetal position. She doesn’t look like she’s breathing. Her skin is discolored and almost lifeless. My stomach rapidly turns to hot lava, acid makes its way into my throat threatening to exit my insides.

I take a few deep breaths. I have to be strong for Mom and my big sister. I can do this. I nervously rub my hands together so aggressively that I could probably start a fire. Nora finds Mom’s purse beside the toilet and dumps its contents on the bath rug. I noticed that she carefully picked through the random items. I spot syringes, a dirty spoon, lighters, and a crumbled-up pack of spearmint gum “mom’s favorite”.

Nora grabs something in a small clear package; whatever is inside is white and looks like plastic. She quickly sits it on the toilet. The labeling has a small fine print that reads Narcan.

She turns back to me. I can see the angst in her eyes. “I need you to help me get Mom on her back. We have to be quick, Olive.” I can’t fully process what is happening right now, but I give her a slow nod.

Nora and I climb into the tub. Nora gets above her head, and I get below Mom’s legs and feet.

Nora quickly instructs, “Grab around her legs, and I will count to three!”

She then grabs underneath Mom’s arms. Nora and I make eye contact. “One… two… THREE!”

Mom is dead weight. We lift with all our might and somehow get her rolled over into position.

Nora snatches the strange item from the toilet and rips it open with her bare teeth. She swiftly drops to her knees, picks Mom’s lifeless head up, and places it on her lap. She then sticks the white object into both of Mom’s nostrils.

It nestles perfectly like it’s made for just that. She pushes up on it, and I hear a faint spraying sound. Did she shoot nasal spray into her nose? She throws the object onto the bathroom floor and tilts Mom’s head back. Why does it look like she’s done this before? How did she know to look in Mom’s purse? And how’d she know how to use that weird white thing?

I sit frozen, staring at Mom’s unconscious body. She’s still not moving or opening her eyes. Panic invades my nervous system once again. I jump out of the tub and run for the door.

Nora shouts at me. “Olive, where are you going?”

I fumble in my words but answer quickly, “I’m going to find the house phone and call 911!”

Nora looks down at Mom and then back at me. “NO! Olive! We can’t call 911.” She is shaking profusely, and I’m trying to comprehend what she just said.

Our mother is unconscious and may be dead or seriously hurt.

I go from all but whispering to yelling, “ What do you mean, Nora? We need help, MOM NEEDS HELP!”