Quiet Conversation

Posted on Sat Jul 20th, 2024 @ 1:51am by Timothy Cotton & Lydia Dunham

2,045 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Winter is Coming
Location: Revere Truckstop Off I-95
Timeline: September 6, 2010 - 6:00 p.m.

"Just a minute," Lydia said. She changed back into her clothes in record time and walked barefoot down the short aisle to the side door. She took a moment, gathered a deep breath, and then opened the door. She saw T.J. standing there and cocked her head slightly to one side. "Something happen?"

TJ looked up at her and shook his head from side to side, "No, nothing is happening Lydia. I uh just wanted to come and check on you. I was concerned about you after you left the table. I hope I didn't say anything to upset you. I would have hated if I did." He explained, "I didn't mean to disturb you, I just wanted to check on you and you did say you would show me your drawings." He finished offering her a soft smile.

"Oh, right, yeah," Lydia said. The garage didn't have much in the way of amenities but the van did. "Just a sec." She went inside and came out with a sketchbook. Every page was filled with ink drawings, before and after images from her time in New York. The hot dog vendor's cheerful smile and how she'd last seen him, victim of the virus. The guard in the lobby of their apartment building talking to her grandfather. Broadway on a night when she and her grandfather had gone to an opening of a new play and then again, littered with abandoned cars and the dead milling about.

She handed over the sketchbook and went around to the back of the van, into her own 'garage' where she pulled out a camp chair and brought it around. She set it up, gestured for him to sit, while she sat in the opening left by the sliding door, feet dangling. "That's one of several I did. New York. Before and after."

'"Thanks." Tj answered as Lydia handed him the sketch book. When she brought back a camp chair and gestured for him to sit down, he did so and then began looking through her drawings. He didn't rush but studied the drawings as if committing them to memory. By taking his time he got to know Lydia a little bit better. He saw her attention to detail, which meant she was observant. Saw the drawings of people and knew she had been a 'people person.'

He paused to look over to her, "These are amazing Lydia. I love your attention to detail and your use of shading. The drawings jump off the page. I've never been to New York but I feel like I have after looking at your drawings. You are extremely talented. Thank you for showing these to me. I appreciate it." TJ answered as he handed the sketchbook back to her.

Lydia accepted the sketchbook and stretched, placing it on the counter above and to the right of her before returning her attention to T.J. "It helped, you know. When things started to go really bad, I would draw everything I remembered, the good and the bad. It helped me to process things. Probably," she shrugged, a slight lift of her left shoulder, "a bit of fear there too. That I might start forgetting it all. Had a problem with that not too long ago."

Tj nodded at her statement. "I think that is a very healthy, to remember everything, the good, the bad and the ugly. It keeps everything real and not like a fairy tale. I also agree with your statement, it helps to process things, to accept them and move on. Always move forward. Never go back. The past is done, over. The future is full of promise. It is what we make it." He smiled. "And I want to make it the best I can. I'm going to give all I can towards that goal."

"Were you," Lydia started, hooking her hair behind one ear, "did you, I mean, did you serve overseas?"

TJ looked at Lydia. "I was overseas as an observer, to help the Afghan forces drive al-Qaeda and Taliban forces from power in Afghanistan." He answered quietly not elaborating any further.

Lydia nodded. "Okay. Observer then maybe you don't know. Can't help." She turned toward T.J., studying him for a moment. "I was kidnapped, taken, when I was starting my Master's at Pratt. Spent two years as a prisoner, well, slave really, of a sociopath. A lot of it is still ... patchy for me ... they found me wandering in Central Park. No memory. Bad physically ... Wasn't till I saw Grandfather that I started to come back to myself. And months before I could remember anything." She sighed quietly. "I was doing alright, healing. And then all of this. Grandfather died and ...." She shook her head, sighing. "He was my ... anchor ... so the panic attacks came back and Gloria here became my home."

"Oh Lydia, I am so sorry to hear that." TJ replied sincerely. "Can't help? I haven't heard what you want help with Lydia, though I'm guessing it is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Just because I was an observer Lydi doesn't mean I didn't see terrible, ghastly things and situations and didn't have nightmares over them," TJ replied calmly and evenly. "There are tools you can use to deal with your panic attacks. First is Connect with others, next connect with others, soothe your body along with build your strengths and lastly love yourself. There is only one Lydia and you need to take care of her," TJ replied softly. "If it is panic attacks the ways to deal with them are slightly different," he explained. "Here are some ways. Practice calming breathing exercises. Keep up your regular activities – try not to restrict yourself. Try to work out if something is making you stressed – stress can make panic attacks worse. Regular exercise – it helps manage stress, tension, and mood, and can improve your confidence." He waited a beat and added, "I'll help you if you want it."

Lydia listened, trying to figure out how to do those things with the way the world was. "I'd ... I'd like that. Help, I mean. I learned Yoga and I .. do that .. but all the things they taught me?" She shook her head, spreading her hands as though in supplication to an uncaring universe. "They just don't cover dead people walking around. I have to learn to fight. I have to get past the panic attacks and learn to fight. Or I'm dead and I can't think of anything more stressful than that, well, unless it's him finding me again."

"You will have to learn to defend yourself and survive," TJ gently corrected. "You can do it, take it slow. First, don't rush getting over the panic attacks. Take it slow and one day at a time and you will get past this. The panic attacks will stop and so will the nightmares and you will find you again and you know what? That will be the day we'll throw a party...a birthday party."

"I like that," Lydia said. For a moment, she smiled, the way she once smiled before everything in her world went dark and ugly. "Birthday party." The smile dropped away as she considered the work she had to do to get there. "I'll get there. I wanted to tell you this so you understand when it happens. So you know what's happening. I am fighting my way back. Just how things are now, makes it harder." She shook her head slowly. "Coz' I never feel safe, you know?"

TJ smiled. "We'll do it. I promise you. No doubt in my mind you will get there Lydia. You are incredibly strong. Give yourself some credit." TJ paused for a moment considering what he wanted to say. "Thank you for telling and explaining to me what you are dealing with. I think you feeling safe will be the hardest for you to overcome but with the help of your friends you will do it. Josh and Kimberley look like good, caring people. Who will be more than glad to help you."

"Hope to count you among them," Lydia said. "A friend?"

TJ smiled and nodded, "I'd like that very much Lydia. To be your friend."

"Good," Lydia said, and out of nervousness, repeated, "Good. Okay so, sometime soon, you'll have to teach me how to handle a weapon once you know I get one and all."

TJ nodded in agreement. "Sure, we can find you one with enough power to do the job but not overwhelm or scare you when you fire it. It will add to your self-confidence as well, knowing you can defend yourself."

"Yes," Lydia said, her gaze darting to the side for a moment. "I was thinking that being armed is a whole lot better than being taken. Not knowing what to do. I'm done being a victim. Healing isn't an easy process but taking charge of my own safety, that's a good start, yeah?"

Now that is a great attitude." TJ replied with conviction. "Knowing what to do, being able to defend yourself with a weapon., is much better than being taken." He smiled at her, "I think you are off to a good start."

"I told my Grandfather that I didn't think I was strong enough. What do you do when you're not strong enough?" She smiled fondly, remember that night in the library. Matching wing chairs. Him reading and her, curled up under a blanket staring into the fire. "He said, you act like you are. Made sense but you know? He was so strong. So ... unafraid."

"Perhaps he was." TJ agreed, "Or perhaps he just hid it very well so you wouldn't be afraid," He posed. "Either way, he succeeded, and he comforted you. I say that was a big win. Wouldn't you?"

"I think it was real," Lydia said. "But if, as you say, it wasn't and he was faking it, then he did a good job. Every day, he'd walk out the door, in one those suits, briefcase in hand, and he'd go run the corporation, face down lawyers and rivals and what not. And later, when Josh couldn't bring charges against ... him ... because he'd disappeared, Grandfather kept after the police, hired private detectives, and every night, no matter, we'd spend time in the library ... "

"Sounds like a hell of a man and it is obvious you loved him, and he loved you dearly. Keep those memories. Cherish those memories alive and in your heart and mind. They are keepers Lydia." TJ said wanting desperately to help Lydia move past her past and into the future even this future.

"I will," Lydia said. "Started a sketchbook that I'm dedicating just to him. Thanks, T.J. Really helped, you coming here and talking to me like this. I can finally see a path forward. That feels good."

My pleasure Lydia. I'm glad I could help you and thank you for accepting me and taking me in. Any time you want to talk just come find me. It doesn't have to be about anything specific, just talk." He chuckled. He looked at his watch, "It's late. I should let you get some sleep. I imagine we will be pulling out early in the morning. So, good night and I hope you sleep peacefully."

"Night, T.J.," Lydia said. "Sleep well."

Once he'd gone, she put the camp chair away and climbed back into the van. Once the door was locked and she was back in her pajamas, she climbed into bed but not to sleep. No. The windows were all covered and she turned on a battery operated lamp and then, in the puddle of light, she opened her sketchbook and she drew for a long while ... her grandfather in all the ways she remembered him.

"Will do." TJ answered but he had no intention of sleeping. Going back into the diner he found the access to the roof and with his rifle climbed on to the roof. He would stay here letting the others sleep. He would be on guard duty. It was the least he could do for them taking him in and allowing him to journey with them.

 

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