Nine-Tenths Love

By Cathie Gauthier

Annie's been told that El Camino changes everyone, and change is what her 28-year-old son, Jake, needs. After six years lost to the chaos of schizophrenia, he is finally stable. Driven by love and determination to see Jake thrive, Annie takes him to Spain to walk the ancient, Christian, pilgrimage trail. She believes stepping away from all that is familiar will break the grip of stigma and start to heal Jake's shattered self-image. As they trek across northern Spain, the Camino mystique unfolds. Annie sees shades of the old Jake emerge, renewing her faith that he can have a meaningful life. But the wide-open spaces and the rhythmic walking freeing Jake, plunge Annie onto a journey she did not anticipate. Memories return and self-reflection brings turmoil. Yet it is Jake's encounter with a beautiful, young, woman, who is on her own healing journey, that embodies all Annie desires for Jake, and all she fears. She must confront what love is now asking of her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Dec 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9780228820024

Cathie Gauthier

Cathie Gauthier is an advocate for family involvement in the care of loved ones living with mental illness. She and her husband walked the Camino in 2013. They live in London, Ontario, where their five adult children and thirteen grandchildren, also live.Contact Cathie at [e-mail]

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Acknowledgements

I wish to thank my family for the encouragement they gave me to accomplish what seemed a dream, and my husband, especially, for being gracious about the actual time and distracted focus required to bring this to completion. Thank you for the encouragement you gave when the project seemed overwhelming and for coffees you brought to me while I sat before the computer!

I thank those who live with mental illness and courageously battle stigma, the ravages of mental distress and the messy impact of psychiatric drugs.

I am inspired and thankful for the brave families I have known over the years who are unflinching in their support of loved ones suffering from mental illness and, even when their efforts seemed futile or failed, have allowed their devotion and love to be a source of personal growth in truth, kindness and courage.

Thank you to administrators at Parkwood Institute Mental Health Care, part of St. Joseph’s Health Care in London, Ontario. Your moral and professional commitment to family and patient involvement in care shapes a culture which reduces fear and supports recovery. I thank those frontline workers, both clinicians and doctors, whose expertise includes vulnerability, compassion and curiosity, as they stay open to, and work to implement, evidenced-based improvements in care.

I thank my dear friends and first readers of this novel; Joan Roffey, Gail Brown, Mary Lynn and John VanderWielen and Theresa Therrien-Dacey. I took all your comments to heart and I know it is a better story because of your input. Thank you to Gail Brown for doing double-duty as proofreader par excellence.

Thank you to the London Writer’s Society critique group. You treated my desire to write seriously and it led me to persevere with a book that, otherwise, may not have been written. It was a crash course in novel-writing! I learned a lot from you.

Thank you to the team at Tellwell, especially project manager, Rhea Inot, for exceptional support and a lot of virtual hand-holding. I appreciate it.

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events are all products of the author’s imagination, with the exception of the gregarious hostess depicted in Mansilla. The hostels (called albergues) in Roncesvalles, Larrasoana, Cizur Minor, Astorga, Foncebadon and Mansilla do exist. All other accommodations are typical of what a pilgrim would find along the Camino Frances route.

Introduction

See you later, Theresa, Annie said as she pulled her office key from her pocket to open the door. The sign on the door read Blake Research Institute – Librarian.

Give it some thought, Annie.

Annie watched her friend of eleven years saunter down the hall. Her ponytail swung, her ample hips swayed, and her Birkenstocks echoed on the polished tile. She was a gem. Jake called her crazy Theresa.

Annie closed the door behind her and went to her desk. She sat down, put her empty lunch bag in the bottom right drawer, and looked at the pile of books in front of her waiting to be catalogued. All afternoon she struggled to keep her focus. Theresa’s ideas were often entertaining and sometimes shocking but her latest one, casually thrown out at lunch, was distracting. She thinks Jake and I should walk across Spain on a pilgrimage? Because her sister did? She doesn’t even like her sister!

Annie applied a few codes to the books, registered new titles in the computer, answered several phone calls, made two trips to the water fountain and at four-thirty pulled her coat on. All the way home, fragments of Theresa’s comments drifted through her mind.

I think you and Jake should go to Spain. El Camino. My sister changed … interior peace … new insights … spiritual … hard.

Annie pulled into the driveway. Getting out of the car she stepped cautiously, watching for icy spots skimmed over by the snowblower. It was only five o’clock, but the fading January sun had already cast pale mauve shadows over the snow-covered lawn.

When she got inside, she noticed Phil had set the table. Thanks, hun, she said and got right to the business of making dinner.

Annie didn’t feel inclined to tell Phil about Theresa’s idea right then. She wanted to think about it. She’d heard of the Camino but had never been curious about it. She’d never met anyone who had walked it, or even considered walking it.

A month passed. The idea of the Camino stayed with her and found a place in her imagination. Over lunchtimes, Annie mined for Theresa’s recollections about her sister’s time in Spain. Gradually a fragile, tentative question came to life in Annie: Would it be possible for Jake and me to attempt such a thing? Still, she said nothing to Phil or Jake. Theresa was the only recipient of Annie’s incubating thoughts.

When Phil stayed late at school for a meeting or when Jake and he were engrossed in a TV documentary, Annie would use the quiet time to go online to research. She read blogs and probed different sources to understand more of the Camino’s history until an intriguing, unified picture began to emerge. El Camino meant The Way. She discovered it was the name of a thousand-year-old, Christian pilgrimage in Spain. It began in various places, but all routes ended at the Cathedral in Santiago where faith and tradition claimed the remains of St. James, an apostle of Jesus, lay in reserve. After the Camino was classified as a World Heritage Site in 1985, the nearly defunct path to Santiago began to grow in popularity. People in increasing numbers, from around the globe, had been walking it every year since. The most common route, Annie found, the one Theresa’s sister walked, was called Camino Frances, an eight-hundred-kilometre trek that began in St.-Jean-Pied-de-Port on the French side of the Pyrenees Mountains and wound its way through northern Spain to Santiago.

The excitement rippling through Annie slowly became an irrepressible surge. Practical questions surfaced. Her fingers flitted over the keys asking all the important questions: What kind of physical training is required to realistically hope to complete the pilgrimage? What is the best time of year to go? What does one do spiritually and emotionally to prepare for such a journey? … What about mental health care in Spain for a person with schizophrenia if anything goes wrong?

Could Jake and I do this? More than once Phil and Jake caught Annie in a reflective space, so deep in a daydream they needed to call her twice to get her attention.

Annie would have dashed the Camino idea immediately if it had surfaced even a year before, but Jake’s mental health had improved remarkably since his decision to take medication. For nearly two years there were no intruding thoughts, no voices, no disorganized speech. Seeing such improvement made it impossible not to yearn for more. They wanted his wellness, not just stability. She and Phil were regaining their confidence in Jake and rediscovering their sensitive, intuitive, wise son.

She would tell Phil about the Camino soon, Annie told herself. But then fear imposed itself in the form of sleeplessness, reminding her that hoping for too much for Jake was the stuff of broken hearts, and she would retreat back into a secret place.

Fear of disappointment was not the only demon. Annie did battle with her basic instinct of being cautious in all matters. As she listened to the new voice in her, she had to daily quiet the competing voice that said, Are you kidding? This would be risky. How could we manage a crisis in another country without having access to doctors? Let alone having a language barrier! The argument against mounted. Jake would never go for the idea. Phil would never allow it. I wouldn’t have the stamina. I would be paralyzed if anything went wrong.

It caused anxiety, but the idea persisted, and Theresa’s carefree approach to life was a disruptive counterbalance to all Annie’s arguments against.

C’mon, Theresa finally said. Maybe it’s time for a miracle. Don’t quit before you start. You and Jake need to kick start life again.

And at the same moment that Annie said, I don’t think my heart can risk investing in another miracle, she crossed some kind of threshold and knew she wanted to go.

She decided she would tell Phil about it that night. She cleared the table after dinner, piling things into the dishwasher and wiping the countertops while Phil grabbed mugs to pour three coffees. Annie waited for Jake to take his mug of coffee and make his way to the sofa in the family room to watch another rerun of Cheers. Phil was about to follow when Annie interrupted.

How about coffee in the living room?

Sure … He raised an eyebrow.

As she walked to the front room, gripping and regripping her mug of coffee, a wave of vulnerability swept over her. She suppressed a giddy feeling that threatened to erupt in a most inappropriate giggle. She felt awkward and embarrassed, worried that Phil would not take the idea seriously.

Annie sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa, as though it belonged to someone else, and fought a barrage of self-defeating thoughts: He’ll think I’m out of my mind. He’ll think I’m chasing the dream I had that first Christmas when Jake got sick. It still plays in my head all the time – He’s not dead. He’s not dead.

Then she told him.

That is absolutely the most desperate idea you’ve had yet! He sounded angry. He almost never sounded angry.

What do you mean, yet? They hadn’t even started and already Annie’s defenses flared, ignoring all the doubts she herself had been wrestling with and doubling down on her insistence that this pilgrimage was doable. The fact that the idea was completely out of the blue for Phil wasn’t gaining any sympathy with her.

Annie, this is ridiculous. Jake hasn’t been physically active for years. Stamina alone is a barrier. But what would you do if you ran into trouble? You’re in a country where you don’t speak the language and, frankly, I wouldn’t be there to help you – or did you intend that I join you in this escapade?

She felt the sting of his comments but held her ground. I know you’ll be into the school year and your knee wouldn’t allow it anyway. But I think we could manage this. It could be a game-changer …

Arguing got them nowhere except to agree to talk to Jake’s doctor about it before anything was said to Jake. It’s out there now, Annie told herself. They deliberately skirted any conversation about the Camino for the time being. It gave space to think. It also protected Jake from exposure to unrest between them. Annie and Phil were experts at that, especially when Jake’s health was the topic of conversation.

A week later, they sat in Dr. Tremblay’s waiting room. Phil sat beside her, composed as he always was. She had no idea if he had budged from his position.

Annie paid no attention to the magazine she leafed through, instead she rehearsed what she would say. She felt nervous. This meeting was critical, and Dr. Tremblay had been patently dismissive of her on more than one occasion. She knew she would have to claim her place in the conversation.

Dr. Tremblay greeted them with a smile when they entered his office. His elbows rested on his desk, right hand supporting his chin and left-hand combing through his shaggy moustache.

No Jake today, I see. His hand left his chin long enough to motion to the chairs before him.

No. We … well, I have an idea involving Jake that we want to discuss with you before mentioning it to him. Defying the tingling running up and down her arms, Annie straightened in her chair and looked Dr. Tremblay in the eye. With calm and clarity and just enough detail, she told him she wanted to take Jake to Spain to walk the Camino.

The doctor’s hands dropped to the desk and he looked to Phil. I’m losing ground already! Annie watched as Phil stepped in at the unspoken invitation to express his understanding of Annie’s desire to do something radically different, to break the mould so to speak, to give Jake a chance to experience himself differently, by going to a place where no one would know his psychiatric history. Then, rationally, sanely, Phil laid out the reasons for his concern.

I’m afraid I have to agree with your husband, Mrs. Baron. A lot of valid concerns. Jake’s had two great years, but he is still vulnerable. He needs more time. Too much of the unknown with what you’re proposing … physical exertion, not speaking the language. Well, I could go on …

Please don’t. Defiance coursed through her now. If he is willing, I’m taking him! Phil’s head pivoted to look at her.

Annie!

Only a small part of her felt petulant, as adrenalin and indignation took over. She pushed back her chair and left the office.

These elevators are ridiculously slow! She hit the down button exactly eleven times before the doors opened lazily in front of her. Her toe tapped and she glared at the illuminated numbers that descended with a total lack of concern for her exploding energy.

I am so sick to death of that doctor. He doen’t listen … he patronizes … and he thinks … he thinks Phil is more rational than me!

She slammed through the double glass doors of the building, passed their car in the parking lot and started walking home. The temperature was relatively mild for mid-February, though snow had fallen the night before making things slippery. She had boots on, but no hat or gloves. In a brief second, she considered the fact she was twelve kilometres from home. Then she pulled the hood of her parka up and buried her fists in her pockets.

No more than a quarter kilometre down the road, Phil pulled up beside her and rolled down the window.

Annie what are you doing? he asked pleadingly.

I ... I’m training! She stomped forward, hands pushing harder into her pockets. Great. All I have to do now is stick my tongue out!

He made two more attempts to get her in the car.

You need to give me some space, Phil. In a sidelong glance, Annie saw his look of reluctance and concern when he finally pulled away.

Three hours later she walked through the front door, energy spent and feeling sheepish. Her legs were throbbing, a fact she wasn’t about to admit. She could smell dinner and saw her place set at the table. Phil and Jake were just sitting down.

She shed her coat and rubbed her hands together. With only a glance toward Phil, she slid into her chair and said, Thank you for dinner.

You’re welcome. Do you want your coffee now? Phil asked tentatively.

She shook her head and picked up her fork. Jake looked from one to the other then shifted his brown eyes to the plate and ate. Annie noticed a flush creep up his neck and, just once, he tugged on the dark hair at the nape of his neck. He’s feeling the tension. She hated to feel responsible for anything that stressed Jake. I can’t help it. I have feelings too. Though the piece of rational thought did little to relieve her guilt.

Annie and Phil climbed into bed that night and, in the dark, Annie said, I’m sorry for leaving that way. I felt shut down. I felt disadvantaged in the conversation. This feels so important.

I’m sorry too. He continued in a hushed tone. The concerns are real Annie. I needed to say what mine are. I don’t like the idea of you and Jake being that far away. I know it could be a game-changer, or it could be a disaster. He lifted himself up on his elbow to face her, But at the end of the day the decision is not Dr. Tremblay’s. It’s ours. It’s Jake’s.

Thank you. She moved closer and put her head against his shoulder. I know it hasn’t seemed like it, but I respect your concerns.

Annie’s fear of having the Camino dream squashed before it was born, abated. Reason and generosity towards Phil’s concerns surfaced, which, after all, had been hers as well. She faulted herself for going so quickly to the offence. She could wait for him to think about it. Phil was not a judgmental or inflexible person. She had come to know that in a thousand ways over the years.

Two weeks later, over morning coffee, he said, Maybe it’s time to talk to Jake.

You can support this? she asked, searching his face.

Reluctantly, but yes. My concerns are still there, but it’s hard to resist the idea of something new happening for Jake.

Annie, Phil and Jake sat at the dinner table; Jake polished off the meatloaf that he had heaped with horseradish. He said it made it taste more like roast beef. Annie put out a bowl of Sunkist California oranges and a few slices of buttered banana bread and sat, waiting for Phil to take the lead.

Jake, your Mom and I are so happy for the stability you have experienced in the last two years. The symptoms seem to be managed really well, at least that’s our observation, and we want to say that we’re not only happy for you but proud of you. How would you say you’ve been feeling? It sounded a bit formal, but they had found giving a context for upcoming conversations worked better than just springing ideas on him – a cautionary approach Annie had clearly skipped when proposing the Camino idea to Phil.

Thanks. Good. I mean the racing thoughts aren’t there anymore – at least, mostly. You know. If I get worried about something I can go into overdrive. But different than before. He lowered and shook his head.

He didn’t say anything but really didn’t have to. After beginning medication, it had taken a couple of months for him to settle and get his thinking straight. Once his thoughts shuffled into the right spot, his conversations reflected an insight that was encouraging for Phil and Annie, but more so for Jake, as he experienced relief in his own mind. He knew he was making sense. It made him feel connected. Not only was he free from a bombardment of ideas that couldn’t be communicated, he was also released from the ever-lurking sea of delusional thoughts.

When not in full-blown psychosis, Annie and Phil had often been able to talk him back from the inky waters of delusion. His delusions were not usually threatening to anyone but exhausting with the vigilance they required of him. When seventy-four-year-old Lillian from down the street paused to admire the garden, it did not mean she had a plan to rob them that night. They could challenge his thought by reminding him that Lillian was a friend who had lived four doors down for twelve years. He had no need to sit at the window, crouched below the sill, listening for sounds and forcing himself to stay awake to catch Lillian in her theft.

Full-blown psychosis was a different story …

We’re proud of you son, was all Phil said, and Annie squeezed his shoulder and brushed her cheek against the top of his head as she moved to the counter to get the coffee carafe and fill the mugs.

I have an idea. Dad and I have been talking. We want to tell you about it and see what you think, Annie began. She smiled and inhaled. Well, Theresa—

Mom, Theresa’s crazy!

Jake, stop calling people crazy.

Mom. She’s crazy – in the best kind of way. Like you got to love her but you know that’s true. Jake gave a look that implied this wasn’t even necessary to say.

Well, yes … but just listen. Annie launched into her idea with relish, telling him about the ancient pilgrimage trail. She told him what she had learned in her research about its history and the stories of people who had walked it. She talked about the blogs she’d read and the YouTube postings. She talked about the freeing, even transformative, experiences people described.

And? said Jake.

Jake, I would love us to walk it, you and me. What do you think? She said this while inhaling – entirely characteristic of her when she was excited, then held her breath bringing her folded hands just above her chest, resting her fingers on her collarbone.

Breathe, Mom. Breathe, Jake chuckled. He looked back and forth between his parents, then thrusting his head forward in astonishment said, You’re serious?

I am so serious. I don’t want you to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ right now. Just think about it. Look it up online and see what you think. Does that seem doable?

Jake agreed, warily. I’ll think about it. I don’t want to tempt the demons. I get afraid of what’ll happen if I rock the boat. Safety has its limitations, I guess. But this … wow. He ran his fingers through his hair. Okay. I’ll think about it.

A whole new level of gravity hit now that they had introduced the idea to Jake. A conspicuous silence settled in the home and another two full weeks passed. Annie and Phil managed not to pry. They second-guessed themselves. They tried to read Jake’s silence. They went to church on Sunday and asked God if they were doing the right thing.

It was a Wednesday evening. As March moved closer to April, sunlight claimed more of the day. Annie stood over the sink washing pots from their evening meal and watching Jake out the kitchen window. He sat on a wrought iron bench that remained in the garden all year long. He often sat there to think. Now his back formed a silhouette against the evening sky, strewn with an orange and coral sunset.

She sighed and plunged the next pot deep into the water. When she looked up again, Jake was coming through the back door.

Mom, I want to go. I want to walk the Camino. I’m scared. I won’t lie. But I just need something so different to happen in my life. I want to do it.

Annie yelped, pulling her sudsy hands from the water and threw her arms around his neck.

Chapter One

September 1, 2010, Pearson International Airport

Annie and Jake didn’t plan on checking their backpacks. It was a minor change in plans but created the first little hurdle.

Hiking somewhere? the Air France attendant asked casually as she reached for Jake’s passport and ticket. Before he could answer, she added, Please place your bag on the scale.

Annie, standing right beside Jake, stepped in seamlessly to say, We thought we could take our backpacks on with us. I don’t believe they’re oversized.

No, they aren’t oversized, madam, she said. The problem is the walking sticks attached to the outside of your bags. They’re considered a security risk.

Jake started to redden and looked anxiously at Annie.

Everything okay? The attendant was paying closer attention now.

It’s no problem, Jake. Right? Annie assured him with an intentional gaze. Look at me. Stay focused. You can manage this. She continued in a casual tone. You need to take your medication from your backpack and put it in your waist pouch. That’s all.

He unzipped the backpack and pulled a container of pills from a side pouch. The label read Respiradol, 2 mg daily. Without looking up, he dropped it into his waist pouch and placed his backpack on the scale, then watched the attendant’s hands as she tagged the backpack and dragged it onto the conveyor belt that took it smoothly away from him. Annie’s eyes fixed on the small muscle twitching in Jake’s cheek.

Madam? The attendant's voice drew Annie’s attention back to the task at hand and the line of people waiting behind her.

Oh, yes, she said, extending her passport and ticket to the attendant.

It was only as they walked away from the check-in counter that Annie became aware of a tightness in her chest and a band of tension across her forehead and cheeks. Willing the muscles in her face to soften into a smile, she gave Jake a good-natured nudge. She noted the redness on his neck had turned blotchy and hoped the telltale sign of stress would soon fade, though she wasn’t counting on it. The airport noise and bustle were stimulating, and they still had to pass through security and a final boarding clearance.

Jake acknowledged Annie’s nudge. Just threw me a little.

Me too, she said to be on his side. She wasn’t lying. All new experiences, Jake. We’ve planned as best we can. There’ll be little unexpected things no matter what. Right?

Right. Security next?

Security next.

Annie scanned for a quiet place where they could sit and take a minute to review the expected procedure at security.

Here, Jake. She slid her hand around his arm and pointed to a small sign that read Chapel.

They plunked onto chairs in the unadorned room. Soft music wafted soothingly from hidden speakers.

Whew! We can rest for a minute, Annie said.

Jake turned to her, perched himself on the edge of his seat and spewed a torrent of questions. What will they ask us at security? Will they ask where we are going? Will they ask why? What if they ask about my medication? I don’t want to tell them I have schizophrenia. - all questions they had rehearsed answers for many times. His hand reached to the back of his neck and unconsciously tugged on a few dark curls that had fallen free of his stubby ponytail, locks that reached three inches when stretched out.

Let’s just sit for a moment. Annie breathed deeply, continuing her transition to a calmer state. She placed her hand over his wrist and they sat without speaking for several minutes, allowing the quiet environment to settle them.

I hear your concern, she said finally and, finding her confident voice, reassured him. It isn’t likely they will ask anything at security. Just check our passports.

If they do, do I just say we’re going to walk the Camino? His breathing had eased and the crease between his eyebrows had faded somewhat.

That’s right, ... if they ask. Annie nodded, looking steadily into Jake’s eyes. She needed to be his anchor right now. His