''Maddie''

By Mary Kresge

We all have our "inner-child" within us. Madeline Elsworth
is a fifty-eight year old social worker whose life and her familys
lives are affected by her lost "inner-child", Maddie. The fourth,
fifth, and sixth years of her childhood are missing. Until she
locates Maddie and lives those three years with her, Madeline can It
be a whole person.
Madeline lives in California as the woman she thinks she should
be--an educated stable wife of a surgeon and mother of two adult
daughters. Shes an "actress" going through her "role of life".
As she grows older, reality is becoming too frightening so shes
withdrawing and becoming more dependent on her family instead of
being a participating member.
Madeline believes her mother passed away during her childhood.
When she learns her mother has just recently died, she is forced
to return alone to her childhood environment in Pennsylvania to find
her lost childhood years. As Maddie begins to appear, Madeline
chooses to be in denial and doesnt want to leave her "safe place"
so she sees Maddie as a very happy child and her childhood as a happy
one.
As Maddie continues appear.inq to her, she starts seeing things
she doesn It want to acknowledge. Madeline keeps running away to
her migraine headaches and Codeine to lessen her discomfort.
But Madeline begins to feel love for Maddie and wants to defend
and protect her. With the help of her old friend and psychiatrist,
Doctor Bob, she starts trusting Maddie and wants to know her better.
As a result, Maddie developes a need for Madeline to help her and
opens up to her. Maddie slowly reveals her fears and horror she
had suffered during those lost three years.
With the support of the caring new people Madeline meets in
her old hometown and her growing concern for Maddie, she finds new
strength to help her "inner-child".
Theres the friendly mortician who had known Maddie; theres
the Ott family who gives support; theres Uncle Arthur who shares
Maddies mothers younger years with her maternal grandparents;
theres the attorney who fills in the blanks in her memory of her
father and paternal grandparents; and then there are the memories
of a sweet, loving Down s Syndrome boy whose love and devotion had
helped Maddie survive.
Madeline lives through Maddie s fourth, fifth, and sixth years
with her and helps her "inner-child" cope with each horrific episode
she had encountered. As Madeline holds her hand and walks by her
side through those years, Maddie developes the courage to take
Madeline back to the terror-filled events of her childhood.
Madeline sees the abuse by her Schizophrenic mother; the absence
of her loving father; the taunting and bullying by a neighborhood
boy; the feeling of loneliness; facing the deaths of loved ones;
and finally, almost her own death.
As Maddie conquers her fears, she no longer needs to hide within
Madelines psyche. Madeline experiences a beautiful feeling of
freedom--freedom from the fear of devastating emotional pain. She
emerges as the confident, self-loving woman she wants to be. She
can now love her family and others with the deep trusting love she
could never allow. Shes become a "whole person".

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 14, 2009
• ISBN: 9781465315113

Mary Kresge

Mary Kresge, born in New York City, is a graduate of Bellevue School of Nursing in Manhattan. She is a seventy-six year old widow, has three daughters and seven grandchildren. At present, she is retired and lives in the high desert of Southern California. She has always had an interest in clinical psychology which led to her writing "Maddie", her first novel.

Book preview

CHAPTER I

Madeline stepped from the 747 into the Jetway with her carry-on bag draped over her right shoulder and carrying her overnight case in her left hand. As she entered the air terminal, she immediately glanced around, searching for a car rental booth. None was in sight. She saw so many people sitting at their appropriate airline gates waiting for boarding. Everyone seemed quite relaxed reading, napping, or just waiting. Being alone in this huge airport gave Madeline a feeling she was a stranger on a distant planet. She followed the crowd that had gotten off her flight from Los Angeles. So far, so good, she thought. She found herself in the baggage pick-up area. She felt some self-confidence returning now that she could do this without James leading the way.

She had no luggage to retrieve. She had planned to be away from her husband and home for only a few days. As she studied the people, she knew they had no idea of the fear she was experiencing. No one could understand the frightening feeling of wandering through a world that is a gigantic maze, becoming lost forever, knowing no one shall ever be able to find them. She felt one of her dreaded panic attacks surfacing.

I’m thinking crazy thoughts again, she told herself. She knew the impossibility of this ever happening, yet somehow reality and these frightening feelings always intertwined and the feelings always won the scuffle. It was her constant battle to control these feelings.

The people were leaving the air terminal, some alone, some with smiling friends or family who came to meet them. Madeline was confused. What do I do? she asked herself. One thing you can’t do is panic, she answered. Such a relief came when she spied an arrow pointing to car rentals. She composed herself and headed in that direction. A feeling of normalcy had returned.

She spotted a Hertz Rent-a-Car booth about fifty feet down the corridor. She was quite tired after her flight but the movement of her legs seemed to be set in overdrive. What’s the rush? she admonished herself. You haven’t any idea what you’ll find in the next few days and it definitely won’t be pleasant, so why are you in such a hurry?

A pretty, young blonde girl, wearing a white blouse with a navy blue skirt, looked to her left from behind the car rental counter. She glanced at the passengers approaching from the flight arrival area when the motion of her eyes suddenly stopped and glued itself on a particular woman who looked to be in her fifties. The woman’s azure blue linen pantsuit first caught the girl’s eye. It seemed to have been custom-made for the slim shapely figure though not her idea of comfortable traveling attire. She admired the figure as it moved closer to her, with shoulders held back and the head held high, despite the luggage it was bearing. As her gaze rose to the woman’s face, she saw a very attractive one, artistically made up, and surrounded by short brown hair arranged in a casual but elegant style. The pretty woman was coming closer.

Madeline forced herself to slow down as she approached the counter of the car rental booth where the blonde girl was standing. The girl smiled pleasantly, but before she could offer a greeting, Madeline was once more in fast-forward motion.

Good morning. I would like a car for approximately two weeks. I want a comfortable one but not too large. Oh yes, it must be new or almost new for I don’t want to have any mechanical problems with it.

Do you have any preferences of color? the pretty blonde asked.

Something dark—black or blue. Oh, it really doesn’t matter, just so it’s comfortable and mechanically sound. You see, I’m alone, which I don’t usually do. My husband is usually with me. I need it to attend a funeral.

Oh, I’m sorry.

No need to be! Madeline snapped. It’s just one of those obligatory things.

The girl suddenly thought the woman is really an old bitch! And quickly replied, Yes, ma’am. I’ll tell you what is available.

Madeline realized she was talking too much. She felt embarrassed. She told herself to calm down. I’m sorry, but I’m really in a hurry, Madeline apologized.

She left Newark International Airport and guided the 1992 black Chevy Lumina toward the New Jersey Turnpike. It would lead her to US 22 that she had decided to follow to Pennsylvania. She didn’t like driving on the California freeways and now wanted to avoid the interstate highways as well. Madeline made a point of avoiding crowds of people as well as crowded highways.

As she approached and turned onto US 22, she was finally able to slow her mind enough to wonder why she hadn’t gotten a cup of coffee at the air terminal. She had slept all night during her flight from L.A. without awakening for a snack or coffee. The coffee shop was probably very busy at this hour. Guess it’s best that I didn’t, she thought. She decided to stop at the first diner she could find.

Two miles down the highway, Madeline spied a modern-looking diner with lots of windows and gray rock veneer covering its exterior. She pulled into the parking lot. After locking the car door, she proceeded up the cement steps to the entrance. Upon entering, she quickly glanced around to find only one couple at a table and three men sitting at the counter, one dressed in a business suit and two in work clothes. She saw a booth in a far corner and hurried to it. Once again, she reminded herself to slow down. She was determined to force herself to relax and enjoy her coffee. She gave her order for a cup of strong, hot coffee to the waitress and then leaned her head back against the booth cushion and closed her eyes. When the waitress placed the mug of coffee on the table before her, Madeline jumped at the sound.

I’m sorry I startled you, ma’am, the middle-aged woman apologized.

Oh no, it’s just me, answered Madeline. I’ve been on a long flight from California and I need some rest. I couldn’t fall asleep on the plane, she lied for no apparent reason.

The waitress returned to the kitchen.

Madeline took a long drink of the coffee and once again leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She wanted to collect her thoughts and recall yesterday’s events in her mind.

Her thoughts took her back to California, to her Malibu home. She had just returned from visiting her very pregnant daughter, Stephanie. It was about three thirty in the afternoon. She was walking up the flagstone path toward the front door when James appeared in the open doorway looking very worried.

Well, my own personal doorman, she had affectionately remarked to her husband.

But no smile of welcome came to his lips.

What is it, James? Has something happened to Des on tour?

No, no. Desiree is fine, James finally answered. Come on in, Honey. We have to talk.

Upon passing through the doorway, James took Madeline’s arm and guided her to the beige suede sofa in the living room and urged her to be seated. He then walked to the liquor cabinet, opened the frosted glass doors, removed a bottle of sherry, and poured some into a glass. He was crossing the room toward Madeline when she jumped up and faced him.

What the devil is going on! You’re acting as if someone has died or something!

Someone has, he softly replied. He handed the glass to Madeline. Here, Sweetheart, sit down and drink this. I’ll try to explain.

He sat beside her and took her left hand in his while she sipped the sherry, then placed the wineglass on the hand-carved oak tea table before her.

Honey, the last time you saw your mother was when you were five or maybe six years old and— he started.

Madeline interrupted, I don’t remember, but Grandmama said I was six and had spent three months in first grade when Mama died. Why, James? What do old memories have to do with anything?

Madeline, your mother did not die when you were six. She was found dead in her home in Pennsylvania this morning by her postman.

Madeline’s face became very pale. A pang of pain hit her right temple above her ear. James, what are you talking about? This is preposterous! I am fifty-eight years old—about to become a grandmother! Surely, I’d have heard somehow if Mama were alive till now. Grandmama and Grandpapa told me she died in a hospital. I lived with them until we married. Surely, they’d have told me!

Honey, your grandmother and grandfather kept the truth from you and took it to their graves with them because they loved you and felt it was in your best interest not to know.

A child—and then a woman, not to know her mother is alive? And in best interest for me? James, my grandmother and grandfather were very sane and sensible people. Why would they lie to me? Where did you hear this fantastic story?

Madeline, your mother was committed into a state mental hospital when you were six. She did not die. She was only twenty-three years old. That’s when you went to live with your paternal grandparents. After your grandfather passed away, your grandmother confided in me and made me promise to never tell you. Try to understand, Honey. They loved you so much and didn’t want you hurt. They felt it best to tell you your mother died in a hospital. Back in those days when someone went into a state hospital, they were considered crazy and dangerous! They did it for your protection.

Your grandmother told me your mother was released from the hospital two years later and they went to visit her. ‘She acted so strange, James, and she didn’t want little Madeline. So we never told her.’ These were your grandmother’s words. Honey, that’s all I know.

And you . . . you, James, never told me either? Why?

Well, Sweetheart, at first I felt bound to keep my promise to your grandmother. And then, later, I thought I would fake a medical convention or something back East and go visit your mother to see what my opinion of her would be. But then, after Desiree and Stephanie were born, you were so obsessed with their welfare. When the girls grew up and moved out, you became so depressed and withdrawn that you started seeing Bob for therapy. I hesitated to introduce anything traumatic into your life. I thought I’d leave well enough alone. I never looked forward to a day when your mother would die and you would be notified. I’m sorry, Honey. I’m truly sorry.

Suddenly she looked quizzically into his eyes. Oh, James, do you know what I should be feeling right now? Because I’m not feeling anything! Should I be feeling something? Should I be crying? After all, she cared for me for six whole years, and yet I remember nothing! I am told my mother died this morning but I don’t even remember having a mother. Where are those years?

Madeline, Bob is on his way over. I called him when I saw you pull into the driveway. I felt you might need him. Damn! I don’t know where he is—must be tied up in traffic!

Just then, the doorbell rang.

That must be him now. James arose quickly and dashed to the old oak door with its stained glass inserts. He opened it and a white-haired older man with a slight potbelly entered. He was wearing sweatpants and a matching blue sweatshirt with a sailboat ornamenting the chest. He glanced at Madeline sitting on the sofa and then turned to James. Madeline remembered his asking concernedly if she were alright and she nodding her head.

She’s remained perfectly calm since I told her, Bob. It surprised me. I was afraid memories would come to her and drive her into hysterics—but nothing! She just appears puzzled and a bit confused. Boy! I’m glad you’re here! She’s asking me questions that I feel she’s really asking herself, as to why she feels nothing; and she doesn’t know what she should be feeling.

Okay, James. You just go into the kitchen and bring us some coffee. He patted James’ shoulder and then added, Better yet, stay in the kitchen and ‘make’ some coffee and whatever else. I’ll call you.

James smiled in Madeline’s direction. Gonna make some coffee, Honey, and he disappeared through swinging barroom-like doors into the kitchen.

Doctor Bob sat beside Madeline. He took both her hands into his. Well, Pretty Lady, James phoned the news to me as soon as the law office in Pennsylvania called him.

Pretty Lady was the name he had given her many years ago when she was only twenty-three and on her honeymoon with James. They had decided on California for their wedding trip and settled there because of Doctor Bob and Dorothy, his wife. They had met at the Playa Del Rey Marina where the young couple was sightseeing and where Doctor Bob kept his sailboat. He had invited the newlyweds for a sail. He had explained the advantages of a medical practice in Southern California, said his clinic had an opening for an aspiring young surgeon, and that’s why they had remained in California and made it their home. James and Doctor Bob became sailing buddies.

As Doctor Bob had put it, All the doctors seem to be avid golf enthusiasts. I hate the game! Sailing is exhilarating and very healthy. I’ll train you right, right from the start! We’re going to be ‘old salt’ associates!

This led to a blooming friendship.

At the beginning, before the birth of her daughters, Madeline joined Dorothy in the many charities she was sponsoring. Doctor Bob and Dorothy were so very energetic, but now, since they were retired and in their seventy-fifth year of life, they had slowed down considerably, but Doctor Bob still had a very energetic attitude.

Madeline’s thoughts returned to the present. She opened her eyes and blinked her lids a few times. The two men in work clothes who had been seated at the counter had left. The waitress was sitting next to the man in the business suit. They were engaged in conversation. Madeline took another big swallow of her coffee and her thoughts returned to Doctor Bob’s advice of yesterday.

He was saying, James tells me you’re pretty mixed-up with your emotions right now.

I’m glad you’ve come, Doctor Bob. Right now, James is pretty mixed-up himself! You know, with guilt for having held the truth about my mother all these years.

I’m afraid I had something to do with that, Madeline. You see, James had confided in me when we started your therapy sessions. I advised him that I’d handle your discovery of your mother’s life in Pennsylvania when the time comes. I was hoping you’d have been ready to confront her in person. Now, fate has changed things a bit, but you still can confront her and perhaps learn what has been hanging there in your mind, preventing you from living your life to its full potential. Madeline, you must fly to Pennsylvania tonight and take care of your mother’s funeral arrangements and maybe you’ll find a bunch of loose strings to tie together to make some sense for you.

But Doctor Bob, you know how busy James has been at the clinic and the hospital. He can’t possibly leave right now. Besides, I feel nothing for my mother that makes me want to go back to take care of things. I’m sure the funeral director can make all the necessary arrangements, and lawyers can solve any problems arising over Mama’s possessions. I need not become involved.

"But you do, Pretty Lady! You do understand we’ve traced your whole life back to the age of six. After the girls were born, the excuses you made of being too busy with them, kept you home all the time. Your obsession with their safety became a bit far-fetched! It’s one thing for a mother to worry about her kids, but you actually became paranoid in your feelings that something horrible would happen to them if you weren’t with them all the time. That’s when James became worried and took me into his confidence. You were depriving Desiree and Stephanie from learning to live their lives by constantly being with them; driving them to and from school, not allowing them to spend time with their friends unless it was in your house, accompanying them to all sports’ events and social activities. They wanted to be with their youthful friends and not having Mother around all the time.

We’ve covered all this in therapy. You did extremely well and finally let go. Desiree now has a fine career in dance, and Stephanie is an accomplished budding artist as well as a well-adjusted young housewife. By the way, when is this grandchild of yours due anyway?

Another three weeks, if it’s not too impatient and arrives early. Looks like it’ll be a big baby. Poor Steph is so uncomfortable. I just came from her house.

That’s another thing, Madeline. When you finally let go of the girls and trusted them to care for themselves, you began fearing harm to yourself that would pull you and James apart. That’s the real reason you find excuses to stay home all the time. It isn’t fair for James to have to give up all his social life to stay in the house with you.

We’ve already discussed this many times, Doctor Bob! You know James is a very understanding and loving man. You know he is willing to help me through my problems as he is with his own patients’ illnesses!

Madeline became quite defensive as she snapped at Doctor Bob. He knows I’m ill! Didn’t he insist upon my seeing you for treatment?

Calm down, Pretty Lady. I’m not trying to push your guilt buttons. Of course, James loves you and he’s happy caring for you, but the two of you could have so much more than that together. I remember the young couple I met thirtysomething years ago, so enthusiastic to challenge life. Oh, Madeline, you and James could be that way again if we could get to the bottom of your problems!

Still on the defensive, Madeline interrupted, James always bragged about what a good psychiatrist you are, Doctor Bob, but even hypnosis brought nothing to the surface! I had a perfectly normal life with Grandmama and Grandpapa! They gave me everything; a loving atmosphere in their beautiful modern apartment, a good education in social work, nice clothes, an appropriate social life, and meaningful relationships with friends. What else are you trying to pry out of my mind?

Madeline, after the girls left home and you were alone with James, you do recognize that you become somewhat agoraphobic. You panicked at social gatherings, at the theater, and shortly thereafter, James even began doing the shopping because you feared the crowds in the stores! I don’t know if your symptoms present a true case of agoraphobia because you’re okay as long as James is at your side. We’ve discussed this. Why are you being so defensive? You are an intelligent woman and should see what this is doing to your family!

I resent your insistence of my defensiveness! I’m just speaking my mind as you always encouraged me to do! Okay, you win! I’ll talk to James about getting someone to cover for him while we’re gone unless you’ve already spoken to him, she added sarcastically.

Now, I really have a lot to do with packing and making flight arrangements and James has to call his office. We’d better end this session!

Wait a minute, Madeline. You’re purposely misunderstanding me. You must go to Pennsylvania alone to confront your mother.

Alone? And to confront my mother? What are you talking about? You know I can’t . . . don’t go anywhere without my husband. And my mother is dead! How do I confront a dead woman whom I didn’t even know, and with what do I confront her even if it were possible?

I’ve mentioned my assumptions to James, Madeline. It was hard for him, but he agrees with me. You will take care of your responsibility alone, and as far as your thinking I’m being crazy, I’m not and neither are you. Hypnosis couldn’t regress you beyond the age of six. You must have been a very bright little girl, so why can’t you remember, and why do you refuse to go back in your hypnotic suggestive states? There’s more here than we know, Honey. There’s some great fear lingering somewhere in those first six years. Going back to your origins may release you from them. After all, when we stare something straight in the eye and confront it, it seems to lessen the fear and gives us more confidence to overcome it. This may happen and it won’t be as bad as you think. Often what is a tremendous terror for a child can be such a little event for an adult. You are a strong and independent woman who has succumbed to the fears of a child. You must find the child, Madeline, your ‘inner child’ and learn about her. Then, and only then, will you know who you are. I think your mother holds those secrets and she will reveal them from your childhood environment. Only then will you be free.

Madeline wanted to believe him. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Only for you, Doctor Bob, will I do this. I love you as a favorite uncle and I want to please you. I’ll trust your advice. Sorry I acted like such an old twit.

She forced a smile that didn’t quite make it as she stood up. She turned to Doctor Bob. God, I’m scared, she muttered.

You’ll do okay. Trust your favorite old uncle. Then he called to the swinging kitchen doors, James, haven’t you made that coffee yet? We need some in here.

Madeline was brought back to the current time by the waitress’ asking, Would you like more coffee, ma’am? Then adding, Are you feeling okay?

Oh yes, I’m fine. And yes, I would like some more coffee. Could you empty the cup before you refill it? I’m sorry but it seems to have gotten cold, while I sat here daydreaming.

Noticing the woman’s curious look, Madeline also ordered some buttered toast to go with her coffee.

The waitress returned with the toast and coffee. Madeline smiled and thanked her. She took a bite of the toast as she watched the waitress return behind the counter. Her eyes wandered to the door of the kitchen, which was opening, and a young boy of fifteen or sixteen with red curly hair came through, carrying a scrub bucket and a mop. He proceeded to mop the tile floor. The boy had an expressionless countenance that reminded Madeline of the many young retarded children she had worked with as a social worker in her younger years.

Madeline’s glance became a stare as she felt a chill crawl up her spinal cord to the nape of her neck. A tiny voice within her seemed to utter, Gee whizzers, it’s Louie!

She questioned herself as to what was happening to her. She became quite perplexed for she was positive the boy’s name was Louie. Is this some kind of déjà vu? she asked herself. Does it happen with sound as well as sight?

As she was staring, the waitress called to the boy, Hey, Billy, you missed a spot over there. She was pointing her index finger toward a small area on the tile floor. He slowly looked up at her, turned, and mopped the spot.

Madeline took a deep breath to relax herself. Why was I so sure his name was Louie? I know no Louie. I don’t even remember working with a child by that name, she was thinking. Then actually talking to herself, Get a hold of yourself! I think you’re losing your marbles, Madeline.

Before finishing her toast and coffee, she rose from the booth to leave. She wanted to get to the car to be alone and figure out all of this. She stepped up to the counter to pay with a twenty-dollar bill. For some unknown reason, she walked over to the young boy and handed him a ten from her change. His blank face looked at her.

"Louie . . . uh, I mean, Billy,