Breaking the Fall

By Lisa Sachs

Breaking the Fall opens as Sherry Berger, a therapist on the northwest side of Chicago, contemplates how to reconcile her apparently middle class life with the life and death emergencies of her clients. Sherry has secrets of her own and she hopes that these secrets won’t impact her ability to help her clients.

As the reader meets Sherry’s clients, she’ll see Sherry’s frustration and agony. Sherry tries to help them overcome barriers to their healing that our society places before them, often unexpectedly and at crucial times in their lives. Her clients are people that we meet everyday, but whose stories are hidden from view. They often face obstacles to achieving their goals, maintaining their equilibrium, and in some cases, even surviving.

Will Sherry decide to continue to work with these challenges or will she choose another path? Will she resolve her own family issues or will her clients’ problems engulf her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Sachs
• Release date: Sep 4, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311860385

Lisa Sachs

Lisa Sachs grew up in New York and lives in Illinois with her husband. She was a social worker in the Chicago area for over 25 years and that background informs her writing. After listening to her clients’ stories for all that time, Lisa decided to write about some of them. Doing that she found her own voice. In Breaking the Fall and other stories that she has written, Lisa gives us a peek into the lives of people who live in our midst but are often invisible.

Book preview

Chapter One

Out of the corner of her eye, Sherry caught a glint of the make-up that her fifteen- year old daughter Francie had lathered on her face. Trying to avoid another confrontation about it, she stared into her coffee cup. What do you have planned for after school today?

Dawn and I are going to her house to practice for cheerleading tryouts.

Oh, said Sherry, wondering why even hearing the word ‘cheerleading’ prickled the skin on her back like chalk squeaking on a blackboard. Have a great day. Do you have your lunch?

Yes, Mom, like duh, said Francie rolling her eyes. Gotta go. You don’t want me to be late for the bus again.

No, I don’t, said Sherry.

Yesterday before school, Sherry and Francie had argued about her heavy use of cosmetics and she had missed the school bus. Sherry had then been compelled to drive her to school and was late for work as a result.

Francie grabbed her backpack and flew out the door.

Sherry did a few yoga stretches to calm down. She probably blew out of the house like that so I wouldn’t see her rouge, mascara, and purple lipstick. Stay focused. I must stay focused. Then she poured a second cup of coffee for herself. Today was her late day. She didn’t have to be at the mental health center on the Northwest side of Chicago where she worked as a therapist until 10:00. It gave her sorely needed time to compose herself after getting her two children off to school.

Steve, eleven and in sixth grade, had left for school without fanfare before Francie came into the kitchen. Francie, a freshman in high school, had been getting too involved – or so Sherry thought- with her strivings to be popular above everything else. Sherry’s stomach muscles contracted as she agonized about how her daughter had become so focused on peer pressure. She had made some colossal mistakes at that age. A chill ran up and down her spine as she remembered dashing out of the house on her way to trouble barely avoiding her mother’s scrutiny. While Sherry knew that she couldn’t prevent Francie from making similar mistakes, it didn’t stop her from trying. Francie had been bridling at her attempts. She mused about what she told clients in these situations wondering why she was finding it so difficult to follow her own advice. Spilling the rest of her coffee into the sink, she turned her attention to getting ready for work.

As Sherry hurried up the stairs to get dressed, she glanced out the window and grimaced as she saw the snow falling. Snow was pretty to watch from a distance but made the driving that much slower. She gave herself a mental pat on the back for avoiding another argument with Francie. She wasted no time putting on a pair of gray wool slacks and a heavy pink sweater and putting her thick black hair in its usual long braid. It would be bad enough that people in her work neighborhood would be setting chairs out on the street to reserve their parking spaces making finding one extremely difficult.

Today was going to be an important day and Sherry needed to be there on time. Two new clients were coming for assessments and she would be seeing Maureen at 10:00. She was anxious to hear if any new crises had arisen in her life. Since Maureen had been coming to see her the past two years, Sherry had helped her to resolve many problems while others arose in her life seemingly out of the blue. Thinking about how she needed to be there for her, Sherry threw on her coat and dashed into the garage to get her car.

#

Maureen unlocked the door of her 15-year-old Pontiac to get the snowbrush and then brushed the snow off her car. It had scratches, dings, and 173,720 miles on it. Most of the time, it started up on the first try, but it got really finicky in the cold weather like a crotchety old lady with arthritis. Please, old girl, Maureen prayed to the car. Don’t let me down today. I need to get to work and I need to get to see Sherry and they charge me if I don’t make it there and I don’t have money for milk.

The car sputtered and moaned in the cold winter air. Come on, you old hag. I can’t afford to get rid of you yet. Please help me out today, pleaded Maureen as she pressed her foot on the accelerator.

Just then the motor caught and Maureen was able to get the car out of its parking space and onto the road. Thank you, she said to her car and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Maureen drove carefully to Sherry’s office. I finally manage to stay put at a job. Losing those other two when I kept freaking out about leaving the house gave me so much grief. That’s when Sherry helped me apply for low cost housing and Food Stamps. It was so embarrassing. No one in my family ever took Welfare or anything before, but I had to do it so I made myself fill out those nosy busybody applications. Sherry really helped me stay at this job even if it is the pits, but I’m still on the brink of disaster. This old car is going to get me there yet. Thank you, car, she said as she pulled into the parking lot of the mental health center where Sherry worked.

#

Sherry stamped in her boots to brush off the snow and then walked into the mental health center. The building was on Montrose Avenue right by a bus stop. Small Chicago bungalows, ranches, two-flats, and well-kept brick apartment buildings surrounded it. Although most of the dwellings were small, they were trimmed and well cared for. Sherry had come to love this neighborhood where she worked. She looked up at the brick two-story building grateful to have arrived there, wiped the snow from her face, and walked in.

Rose, a stocky 50- year old woman whose wet hair streamed in her eyes, greeted Sherry as she entered the building. Another day. Another storm. What’s your schedule like? Do you have any free time? I don’t have any home visits today. Great considering the weather.

Neither do I. I have a free hour at 2:00.

"Me too. See you at the Desk of Chez Moi for lunch, Madame."

Sherry smiled at Rose’s humor. As usual, Rose’s outfit matched her personality. The neon-colored scarf that Rose wore around her neck was a complete contradiction to her conservative black pants. Sherry fought to keep her eyes from being blinded by the loud magenta and lime. I can’t wait, she said.

Good morning, ladies, Arlene the receptionist greeted them. How was your drive in?

I took the Kimball bus, said Rose. No point driving in this.

It wasn’t too bad considering, said Sherry.

Your 10:00 is here, said Arlene. She looks about as frazzled as usual.

Thanks. You always notice things like that. You’re so attentive, said Sherry. Then she went to get Maureen from the waiting room.

Maureen, a 35- year- old redhead dressed in jeans and a green sweater, had bags under her eyes. As they walked together to Sherry’s office, Maureen said, I’ve been up half the night.

Tell me – what was keeping you up? asked Sherry as they sat down in her office.

Sherry’s office contained a desk and several chairs but otherwise wasn’t spacious. She liked to observe which chair the client chose. Maureen took her usual green easy chair by the window across from Sherry’s desk.

I had a bad dream that scared the daylights out of me and then I couldn’t go back to sleep so I walked into the boys’ rooms. I watched them sleep and I thought about what I was giving them for breakfast in the morning. Then I went in the kitchen and I thought it’s cold and they’ll want oatmeal. But we had no milk left and I had to tell them that. Then I thought about them being disappointed and I felt guilty for leaving Richard.

But you told me he beat you all the time and right before you and the boys left him, he threatened to kill you. If you hadn’t left him, you might be dead.

Maybe, Maureen admitted. This is reminding me of that time Richard slammed me into the kitchen wall and fractured my shoulder. Did I tell you about that?

That was when you first started coming here, wasn’t it?

Did I tell you that loud crash woke Liam from his sleep and he came into the kitchen rubbing his eyes? When Richard saw the look on our middle son’s face, he stopped beating me.

Yes, I remember we talked about that. If you’d stayed, the beatings would have continued to escalate.

That’s what they told me at the hospital.

Sherry told herself to be more understanding. After all, not everyone had her reaction to being abused. She would never put up with her husband Greg hitting her. If he did, she would leave him without looking back. She couldn’t imagine how Maureen had put up with so much nonsense for as long as she had. At times like these, Sherry questioned whether or not she was in the right line of work. Are you having flashbacks and nightmares again about Richard beating you?

No, only this dream.

Are you afraid of something that’s happening?

I’m okay. I better not talk about this right now.

Why not? Change the subject for a minute and let her calm down. Do you have enough food in the house?

Maureen fidgeted with her necklace. We’re fine for now, she answered. I go to work today and I’ll get some cash to buy milk.

Are you sure? There is help out there if you need it.

We’re fine for now.

Tell me about your dream.

I’m back home in Indiana and I’m 10 years old again. Me and my friend Angie are riding our bikes. And then we’re near the railroad tracks and then in the dream, I am the adult that I am now. The train is coming towards us and I tell Angie to jump off her bike. Angie is still a kid in the dream. I hear the train whistle blowing and then I wake up.

How did you feel when you woke up?

I was sweating and felt scared. I thought I heard someone outside the apartment. I was afraid to get out of bed, but I couldn’t stay in bed so I got up. I turned on all the lights in my room. I walked into the kitchen and saw that I had no milk to give the boys in the morning.

"So what is the train wreck coming towards you? Are you afraid that something is going to happen?’

I don’t know, Maureen said looking at her watch avoiding Sherry’s gaze. I have to leave early to get to work. See you next week.

#

At their lunch break, Sherry said to Rose, I’m worried about Maureen. There’s something she needs to tell me that she’s holding back on.

What do you think is holding her back?

I wish I knew. Things had been getting straightened out for her. Maybe something went wrong again.

Time will tell. Relax. Don’t think about it so much. Easier said than done though. I’d probably be chewing my nails about her. We know how effective that is, said Rose throwing her hands in the air.

What I need is a vacation, said Sherry.

Don’t we all, said Rose. I’d like to be on the Costa del Sol about now. I can feel the sun caressing me, my beautiful bod getting tan. If only I could afford it. But my clients wait. See you later.

Getting up to leave Rose’s office, Sherry reflected on their conversation. Rose had been working at the Mental Health Center for fifteen years, five years longer than she had been there. When Sherry had arrived there, they’d become friends instantly and shared so much both personally and professionally since then. She looked at her watch as she entered her office.

#

Outside of the mental health center, Maureen brushed the snow off her car and then got in and started the engine. This time, she sighed Amen as the car started up without a problem. She was afraid to take any more days off. Hello, I’m taking a sick day. I have a very sick car. She didn’t think they would buy that at Valu-Mart. She didn’t know what she would do if she got fired. How would she pay her rent and feed her boys? When will Richard stop robbing me of my sleep? Even from jail, he controls me. She clenched her teeth as that thought ran through her mind.

#

As Sherry finished the paperwork from her appointment with Maureen, someone knocked on her door. Sherry looked up to see Walt, a short, slim man with light brown hair in his late 50’s. She assumed that he had come in to bemoan his latest adventures in dealing with his Social Security Disability appeal. How’s it going, Walt? Sherry asked trying to sound upbeat.

Bad, very bad, said Walt hanging his head.

Sherry listened as Walt told her of his troubles. Walt had many issues that made him unemployable. For the past few years, he had been out of work and staying with his elderly parents. More than two years ago, he had applied for Social Security Disability and he was still embroiled in the process of appealing the decision that he was not disabled enough to receive benefits. From time to time, he would come to see Sherry to express his frustrations. Telling his latest agonies seemed to calm him down. He left as abruptly as he came. Sherry shook her head as he left wondering if his problems would ever be resolved.

#

After seeing her last client of the day, Sherry finished her paperwork and got ready to leave. The snow had stopped falling, but the wind was swirling it around. She tried to avoid thinking about Maureen by turning on her car radio to listen to classical music. Maureen was a divorcee with three boys. Sherry often had to bite her lip to keep from yelling at Maureen when she’d say that she still loved Richard. She knew that would be counter-productive, but it was so hard for her to understand. Love. How can she continue to love him after he smashes three of her front teeth out?

Sherry’s mind drifted back to Francie who seemed intent these days on doing whatever her friend Dawn did. She knew how following a friend blindly could lead to trouble, something that she had learned through too many disasters during her own teen years. Yet Dawn wasn’t involved in that kind of problem behavior and Greg had warned her about being a hoverer, not giving Francie room to grow. Don’t think about it. Concentrate on this icy road. After negotiating a nerve-wracking skid a block away from her house, she pulled into her driveway. Greg hugged her as she practically fell into the living room. I’m so glad that you’re home safe and sound.

You have no idea how glad I am. Those slick roads are so scary, said Sherry blinking back tears and hugging him. Sometimes I don’t appreciate how lucky I am. Where are the kids?

Steve’s asleep. He was doing a science project for the sixth grade science fair and he just turned in about 15 minutes ago. Francie’s at her computer supposedly doing homework.

Sherry chuckled. As she asks her friends for input I’m sure. At least Steve isn’t a full-fledged teenager yet. I don’t know how parents with several teenagers in the house survive.

#

At her next weekly session, Maureen looked even more shipwrecked to Sherry. Her red hair was zooming out of her head in a helter-skelter fashion and the bags under her eyes were puffier. I’m really having a bad hair day today, Maureen said as she sunk into her chair.

And what’s making your hair stand on end this week? asked Sherry. I know that something is keeping you awake at night.

You know that Richard went to prison for beating me. Well, I think he is getting out sometime soon, and I’m really scared. He started writing letters to Kevin – you know, my 13 year old - and he’s asking him to visit him with his uncle.

Does Kevin want to go?

No. Getting those letters made him really agitated. He wasn’t able to concentrate on his last math test, and he got a ‘D’ on it. That was the first time that he did that bad in school and now I’m worried that everything is going to fall apart all over again. I’m afraid of what will happen when Richard gets out of prison if he comes back to the house and wants to hurt us again. Last night, I saw his shadow in my room when I woke up in the middle of the night and I know it wasn’t him. Am I going crazy?

Did you turn on the light to see if it was him?

I was afraid to get out of bed. Then I just lay there waiting for morning to come and finally it did.

I’m glad that you’ve begun to deal with this situation. We need to make a safety plan so that you have a way to protect yourself and your kids. Do you have good locks on your doors?

I don’t think they’re that good and I know I have to look into that.

And keep your phone near your bed so you can call 9-1-1. You can find out when he is getting out of prison.

I don’t know how.

Sherry looked at her Rolodex. "Here’s the number for the Attorney General’s office. I’ll make some calls, too. Talk to your landlord about changing the locks in your apartment and call the Illinois Attorney General’s office to see what you can find out. That’s your homework