Love Saves the Day

My jaw was so tight it was painful. “Keep your hands off my child.” I pushed the words through clenched teeth with enough force to send a line of spittle down my chin. The cop took one look at my face and backed off.

“Mom,” Laura was saying frantically. “Mom, I had her! I had Honey! Those cops scared her and she jumped out of my arms when they came for me. She ran under the bed. I know exactly where she is! Tell them! Tell them where she is so they can go back and get her!”

My arm drew up into the air, hand open. It sped down to land across Laura’s face in a resounding slap. The force of it rocked her head back and to one side. She staggered, instinctively clutching the shirt of a person standing behind her to keep from falling.

Laura’s already fair skin turned white. Chalk white save for the blood-red mark on her face, which took the shape of my hand. Her eyes widened. Raindrops gathered in her hair and spilled down the sides of her face.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?” I shrieked. Except I was the one who sounded crazy. And even as I was screaming, even as I struck her for the first and only time in her life, even then a part of my mind was thinking, Oh, my child, my girl. That you should live to see a day like this one. I grabbed her shoulders and shook her until her teeth rattled in her head. “A CAT?” I screeched. “You risked your life to save a cat? Who cares about the cat! TO HELL WITH THE STUPID CAT!”

I didn’t mean it. Of course I didn’t mean it. What I meant was, Yes, we love the cat, but you are more important than any cat. What I meant was, Please, if you love me, don’t do anything like this again. I couldn’t bear to go on if anything were to happen to you. But I didn’t say those things. Not in that moment. How could I? How could I speak calmly when I was gasping for air? When my legs shook beyond my control? When my heart was knocking so hard in my chest, it sent pains shooting through my body?

All I wanted was for Laura to leave. Every instinct in my body was screaming for her to go, to get her away, away, away. Away from the machine with its ravenous metal jaws that wanted to kill something. Had tried to kill her once already. Away from the crowd that also wanted to kill something now.

But Laura wasn’t going. She stood there with tears in her eyes, gaping at me as if she didn’t know me. Didn’t recognize me. The look of perfect trust her eyes had held only that morning was gone. And I knew, as I stood there, I knew I would never see it again. Something had changed between us. I knew it, I just didn’t understand why. How could my own daughter, the child of my own body, distrust me when I was the only one—the only person in this whole crowd—who was trying to protect her? I felt myself on the verge of hysteria. Clutching her arm, I dragged her through the crowd to where it thinned at the edges. I saw Hugo Verde helping his children and Mr. Mandelbaum into a Red Cross bus. Later I would learn that it had taken people from our building to a motel out in Queens, near LaGuardia Airport.

And then Noel was standing next to me. “I was worried when you didn’t show up today. You weren’t answering your phone. I came as soon as my shift ended.” He stared at me—my face twisted, panting heavily—and trailed off. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked uncertainly.

I put my hand against Laura’s shoulder and shoved her, hard, in his direction. “Take her,” I gritted. “Take her to your apartment. Take her anywhere. Just get her away from here.”

Maybe if Laura had cried, maybe then it would still have been okay. If she had cried, if her face had softened, of course I would have put my arms around her. I would have hugged her close and whispered, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I was scared, that’s all. I love you. I love you so much. And Laura would have hugged me back, she would have sobbed against my shoulder, and I would have comforted her as best I could.

But Laura didn’t cry. The tears in her eyes dried without falling. Her lips pressed into a thin line. Noel tried to put his arm around her shoulders, but she shook it off. “I’m fine,” she told him.

Noel threw me a look that pleaded for clemency. Give the kid a break, the look said. “Come on,” he told her softly. “Everything’s going to be fine. Your mom’s going to stay here and make sure everything is just fine.” Placing one hand lightly between her shoulder blades, he started to guide her away from the edges of the crowd.