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The Pink Invitation |
| Written by Pamala J. Johnson | |
| Wednesday, 11 April 2007 | |
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Share it:      “Sheriff, I swear, two days ago, I lived in a different world,” Donna hugged herself, attempting to stop the trembling, as she sat down. Donna glanced behind her towards the door, as if, she believed someone was following her. “What do my mean, Ms. Adams?” the Sheriff asked from behind his large wooden desk. “I mean, I went to sleep two nights ago, thinking I lived in a decent civilized world! When I woke up, it had all changed,” Donna’s voice rose, with a special sort of shrillness, only nerves could produce. Again, she looked towards the door. “I see you are shaken, Ms. Adams, but you must calm down. You are making very little sense. Why don’t you calm down and tell me what you are talking about?” the Sheriff suggested with a quieting tone. Donna pulled a Kleenex from purse and wiped her tear stained face. Taking a deep breath, she explained, “It all started yesterday when one of my daycare children failed to show up.” “There is this little girl named Anna Marie, who is brought every day by her parents to my daycare. They always arrive promptly at 7:30 a.m. and in three years they have never missed a day, until yesterday,” Donna tried to clear the lump in her throat. The sheriff asked, “What is so unusual about this, perhaps, the little girl was sick?” “I wondered that myself, so I tried calling her parents, but they did not answer the phone. I was worried because Anna Marie is never sick, and because she is a very special child. I knew something was wrong.” “In what way is she special?” asked the Sheriff. “Anna Marie is a beautiful little girl, with a creamy complexion, curly brown hair which frames her face and bright blue eyes,” Donna stopped to wipe the tears from her eyes again. “She sounds adorable,” the sheriff remarked. “She is, but there is more to the story,” Donna hesitated. “Go ahead,” the sheriff sat back in his chair. He knew the woman, in front of him, had suffered some sort of trauma, but what did this day care child have to do with it, he wondered? Continuing, Donna explained, “Her disposition is just as charming. She is always smiling and never irritable. Out of all the children I have each day, she is the most obedient. She never complains.” Reaching for his pen, the sheriff asked, “How old is this child?” “She is eight years old,” Donna answered. “Eight years old? Why isn’t the child in school?” “Her parents refused to allow her to go, Sheriff. You see Anna Marie is mentally challenged. I tried to tell her parents Anna Marie would love Public school. She responded to the stimulation here. I saw it myself.” “I can understand your point, Ms. Adams, but it is the parent’s right to decide what sort of education their children will have.” “I understand this Sheriff.” Donna felt the salty tears run into her mouth. Not wanting to sound unsympathetic, the Sheriff asked, “How mentally challenged is she?” Attempting to gain composure, Donna answered, “I would say she is about a three year old mentally, but when she first came, she was much younger acting. This is why I know Public school would have helped her, but it doesn’t matter now.” Donna’s voice trailed off and she began to cry again.The Sheriff sat there looking at the woman cry. He did not know what to say or how to comfort her. Something had happened, but she seemed unable to get to the point. She was on the verge of hysteria, he thought. “Ms. Adams, you must calm down. Please, get to the point. What happened?” “Yesterday evening, I went out to check the mail. Among all the bills and flyers, was a bright pink envelope. It stood out from all the other envelopes because it was big and so very pink.” “What was in the envelope, Ms. Adams?” “It was an invitation,” Donna choked back another sob. “Who had sent it?” “Anna Marie’s parents had sent it.” “What was the occasion?” the Sheriff tapped his pen on the desk and leaned forward. Without answering his question, Donna pulled the pink envelope from her purse, opened it, and lifted a matching pink card from its folds and began to read: "Mr. and Mrs. Davis invite you to attend the funeral of their beloved Anna Marie, age eight, on October 9th, 2009.On this most solemn day, it is our wishes; you are by our sides as we say our final “goodbyes” to our beautiful and loving daughter .The Funeral services will be held at 1:00 P.M. at the Last Rites Funeral Home on Edison Street .Anna Marie’s physician, Dr. Goodson, will be presiding over the events.” “I couldn’t believe what I was reading, Sheriff. The child was in perfect health! I asked myself, how can this be? I felt my head spinning. I barely made it back into the house. When I was able to calm down, I looked at the date on the invitation. It was mailed the day before. Anna Marie was in my care that day! How is it possible for the girl to be in my care on that day and the next day I receive an invitation to her funeral? I thought I was losing my mind.” “What did you do next?” the Sheriff asked. “I, frantically, tried to call Anna Marie’s parents, again.” “Did you reach them?” “No one answered. I thought about going to their home, but then I thought, perhaps, this was some sort of cruel Halloween joke. So I called the funeral home. The woman who answered the phone confirmed a funeral at 1 P.M. for an Anna Marie Davis. I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. I cried all night!” “It must have been quite a shock,” the sheriff reached for this calendar. “Today, is the day of the funeral, how did you handle it?” he asked. “I went to work this morning and told the other teachers about the invitation to the funeral. What else could I do? Just like me, they were all stunned. After a couple of hours, I had to leave, I was so distracted. All I could think about was the last time I saw Anna Marie and what she was doing.” “Why what was she doing?” “Oh nothing special, just playing with her baby doll and sucking her thumb, as she does everyday. Her innocent smile haunts me. She always smiled.” Donna stopped speaking. She felt her throat tighten up. “After you left the daycare, where did you go?” the sheriff asked. “I went home and dressed for the funeral. By 12:50 P.M. I was entering the funeral home to find a huge crowd, men and women, all dressed in black. I noticed most of the women were wearing black veils covering their faces. I found this odd.” “In what way?” the Sheriff shifted in his chair. “I felt like they were hiding,” Donna paused. “Hiding?” the sheriff raised his voice. “Yes, it was as if they were concealing their identity. I don’t know, Sheriff. I just felt odd,” Donna shifted in her chair. She wanted to jump and run from this office, but where would she go? “Go on, Ms. Adams, what happened next?” “I saw a casket in the center of the room. It was lined in pink and yellow silk checks. The colors were bright and cheerful. The casket looked like a baby bed, instead of a bed of final rest. It was very strange!” “What was strange?” “The casket was empty.” Taking a deep breath, the sheriff hesitated to ask the next question. “What do you mean ‘empty’, Ms. Adams?” “I mean Anna Marie was not in the casket! It was empty.” “Could you have been in the wrong area?” “No, because I checked the name on the marquee before I went in. It said, Anna Marie Davis.” “So you were in the right area, but the casket was empty, what happened next?” “I must have been one of the last persons to arrive, because shortly after I entered the room, someone closed the doors behind me and a low marching song began.” “What do you mean a ‘Marching Song’? What was it?” “I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t really pay attention to it, because after the music started, two doors, across the room, opened. Anna Marie’s parents made their way to the side of the casket and sat down. The woman’s face was covered with a black veil, so I can’t be sure the woman was Anna Marie’s mother, but the man was, definitely, Anna Marie’s father. He held the crying woman close. His arm was around her. He kept looking at her as she cried, but he never shed a tear.” Donna’s stopped talking. She seemed to disappear into her thoughts. Breaking the moment of silence, the Sheriff repeated his question, “What happened next?” “A minister came and stood over the casket, blessed it, then said a prayer.” “I thought you said the casket was empty?” “I did,” answered Donna. “Why do you think I said I was confused? I thought they had cremated the little girl and were only going through the formality of a service.” Donna’s voice began to rise again. “Calm down, just tell me what happened next,” the sheriff ordered. “After the minister’s prayer, the music started again and the doors opened again.” “What doors?” “The same doors the parent’s had came from, but this time there was this doctor, all dressed in white, carrying a little girl. She had pink pajama’s on and she was carrying a baby doll. She was smiling.” “You mean she was alive?” “Yes, fully alive and smiling. There were two other men following the doctor. One was carrying a bag and the other one was carrying a plastic sheet. Oh! Sheriff! They placed the little girl in the casket. She lay down on a pink silk pillow and began sucking her thumb. She was so precious! She even turned on her side and clutched her baby doll, as if, it was naptime. I’ve seen her do this many times before!Donna could not go on with her story. Her throat tightened and her body began to violently shake. She could not hold back the convulsive sobs, which came from deep inside her. The Sheriff stood up and made his way to her side. He kneeled beside her and stroked her arm. He wanted to comfort her, but he knew, first, she must release this pain. After several moments, her sobs turned to whimpers, then, quiet tears. The sheriff, gently, touched her shoulder and said, “Can you tell me what happened next?” “They suffocated her!” The Sheriff sat looking at the woman without blinking an eye. He wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly. “What did you say?” “I said they suffocated her or maybe they poisoned her. I don’t know. I’m so confused!” “Ms. Adams, this is a serious accusation. How could you be unsure of such a thing?” the sheriff asked. “It all just happened so fast. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.” Donna began to shake again. “Please, Ms. Adams, I know you are upset. Take a deep breath and try to explain what you saw,” the Sheriff got up and walked towards the window. “The doctor and another man placed the plastic sheet over the upper part of her body and held it down. I don’t know how they attached it. It just seemed to stick to the silk lining of the casket. At first, the poor baby just laid there. But soon, she grew restless and struggled to push the plastic away. She started to cry, but one of the men pushed a bottle full of liquid into a plug in the plastic so she could nurse. She eagerly took it, but soon there was no more movement.” “So you think the bottle might have contained poison?” “Yes, it must have been or why would she stop crying so quickly?” Donna’s voiced trailed into a whisper. The question became the answer to what she had seen. She didn’t need the Sheriff to answer her. “Did you try to stop them?” the Sheriff asked. “I yelled, “Stop it! What are you doing?” But two men came beside me and took my arms. I jerked away from them and ran out the doors. I don’t know what happened after that; somehow, I made my way here, to your office. Sheriff, they murdered that little girl! What are you going to do?” The Sheriff left the window and walked over to a bookcase. After a moment, he pulled a new green book, with bright gold lettering, from the shelf. Walking back to his desk, he sat the book down, but did not open it. After what seemed an eternity to Donna, the sheriff took his seat and opened the book to the table of contents. After scanning the page, he flipped the pages to the center of the book. He seemed, oblivious, to Donna, as he read silently. “Sheriff, did you not understand what I said? They murdered that little girl! Aren’t you going to do something?” The Sheriff raised his head from the pages of the book and asked, “Did you in anyway attempt to physically stop them?” “I told you. I yelled, “Stop”, but two men came beside me. I was scared, so I left. For all I know they are out there waiting for me!” “Ms. Adams, no one is outside waiting for you,” the Sheriff attempted to assure her. “How can you be sure? They murdered that little girl!” Donna insisted.“Donna, by law, they did not murder anyone, but they could press charges against you for attempting to interfere with their parental rights.” Donna looked at the man before her and felt her body go numb. Her mind raced over his words with questions she could not conceive she needed to ask. Had he said they could press charges? Did he say she was attempting to interfere with their parental rights? She felt horror shoot through her like a lightning bolt. Had she come to the wrong place for help? “What are you talking about, Sheriff? They murdered that little girl.” “Not in this state, Donna. It is not called murder. You said the child was mentally challenged. You see this book?” the Sheriff lifted the green law book from the desk. “These are the new laws for the twenty-first century. Remember a few years ago, that woman down in Florida who was starved to death? Well, I guess someone decided starving her to death set a precedent, and our state decided the quality of life should rise to a new height, or as some would say, to a new depth. Nevertheless, the law, in this state, was changed. Now it provides for Quality of Life Mercy Terminations. They, legally, call them QL Terms. See it’s here on page 120.” Pointing to a paragraph, the Sheriff read the new state law: “Parents, spouses or adult aged children have the right and responsibility, deemed and endorsed by the state, to make merciful decisions, in advance, to terminate a being, whom is recognized by three designated, state licensed healthcare physician professionals, as incapable of leading a productive or beneficial life on behalf of themselves or society. The parents, spouse or adult aged children may choose the form of termination which they feel would best exemplify humaneness and mercy. The termination process chosen must be registered by permit. A licensed physician must be present to witness or perform the manner of termination and to witness and verify the time of termination. All such terminations shall be held lawful, as long as, all terms and conditions of this law are fully and dutifully met and documented by all parties involved.” The Sheriff continued, “I am afraid, Donna, you witnessed one of our state’s first mercy terminations. The law was passed last year as a ‘right to die’ act. Unfortunately, we are the model for the nation, the first to practice it.” Donna sat still. His words echoed in her ears. She had heard of the debate about a person’s right to choose, but she had no idea the choice could come from someone else. Her mind could not determine if this was real or if she had just imagined the whole event. Fumbling with her purse, she looked up, “You knew of this?” “I knew a permit was filed. I didn’t know it was your Anna Marie. I am sorry Donna. I don’t have to agree with the law. I just have to uphold it.” The woman did not move from her chair, instead she looked out the window. She knew beyond this room, families continued to live, work and laugh together, oblivious, their world had terribly changed. Now, no one was safe. Who could you trust with your life? By this law, every parent and spouse had become legally God, capable of preserving or destroying life by a permit. She felt a profound fear seize her. She felt frozen in the chair, yet, she wanted to run. “Ms. Adams, may I take you home?” the Sheriff, gently, asked. Donna did not answer. “Ms. Adams, are you alright?” the Sheriff pressed. The woman continued to stare out the window, without answering him. “Ms. Adams, should I call a doctor?” Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked at the Sheriff. Who does he really protect, she wondered? “No, I’m fine. I have my car,” she wanted nothing more to do with this man or this place. Picking up her purse, she rose to her feet and, hurriedly, left the Sheriff’s office, without saying, ‘goodbye’.Tomorrow, she would place her daycare on the market and buy a ticket to any place, where life was still recognized as a non-returnable gift, a place where she could feel safe. At the end of the corridor, near the door, she saw a garbage can. She stopped and looked around. The hallway was empty. She opened her purse and pulled out the pink invitation. For an instant, she hesitated. This was all she had left to remind her Anna Marie had existed. No, she thought. She had her memories. She had Anna Marie’s smile, forever, in her heart. No one could take that from her. Dropping the pink invitation into the garbage container, Donna closed her purse, and exited the building. Donna felt tears well up in her eyes, again, as she pulled away from the Sheriff’s office. She vowed to never see another pink invitation for the rest of her life. If it meant living alone on a desert island, so be it. What was so special about human society anyway, she asked herself? At least, in the animal kingdom, they know their enemy, she reasoned. Rushing to her car, her hands shook as she opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. As she inserted the key, she glanced towards the sheriff's office. He stood behind the glass window of his office watching her. She felt a shiver run down her spine. She wanted to forget this place, but never would she forget Anna Marie. “The End” Copyright 2007 Pamala J. Johnson {moscomment} |
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| Last Updated ( Wednesday, 11 April 2007 ) |
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