Elly, Episode 4

Dave couldn’t bear it any more. “We must have a tree,” he said. Helen’s eyes lit up. It had seemed a thankless chore, until Dave showed up.

“I’ll arrange for one,” Betsy said with a smile.

Dave was adamantly opposed to that plan. He wanted to go get a tree that he, personally, had marked for cutting down. “I want to pick it out,” he said, in case someone hadn’t been listening.

They got into his new jeep, a second-hand Toyota, and headed out where Becky had directed them, to find a Christmas-tree farm, out north on the Turnpike. “Here’s the exit,” Dave said, while Elly still battled with the map.

“Wait, wait! Don’t turn off until you get to Exit 33!”

“This is Exit 33!” they yelled in chorus.

With some difficulty they did find a tree farm, and Dave triumphantly bore on his shoulder a modest seven-foot little tree that seemed to hate to leave his little spot. Dave cleverly cleaned up the lower limbs right at the farm, saying that they were less likely to put the debris in a landfill. “Landfills are the worst,” he revealed. “Just remember that.”

A short time later, the tree was up, well watered, and the tree lights Elly had found earlier were put to good use. Betsy turned out to be a genius at decorating trees. But sensing that Helen and Dave wanted to have their turn at it, she professed a fear of electrical things, and left the lights to the delighted pair. As Elly and Betsy watched from a safe distance, with much billing and cooing, Helen and Dave got the lights on.

“Not bad,” granted Betsy, with a critical eye.

“We just shouldn’t have watched,” said Elly, pretending to be sick.
“She’s very protective of them,” Betsy said softly. “Especially after the accident!”
“What accident?”
“Didn’t she tell you?”
“Well, I guess not!”
Betsy recounted what she knew of the incident, how Helen and Amy had gone out to check on little Ruth when the father and daughter had hit a big buck on their way home from the children's playground. “She came back, and was full of how terribly it was, and how she wanted to help clean up the place, and make sure Ruth was okay.”
Ruth, who was with them, looked up at them, wondering if indeed they were talking about her. She pointed at the tree and whispered that Mama was putting lights on the tree.
“Yeah, we know,” said Elly, not unkindly. “You’re gonna make one heck of a spy, you know that?
Betsy nearly exploded.
“Hey folks,” yelled Helen, “Lookie, the lights are up!”
Muttering something sarcastic, Elly brought up the rear, as Betsy and the baby hurried up to congratulate the electricians.

The next few days were taken up with helping Helen's cousin Marika finish off a Christmas Special of celebrations around the world. It was originally supposed to have been given free to PBS stations across the country, but since Helen's reputation had hit the skids, the Special was not wanted anymore. Only the faithful Galaxy studios were interested in publishing it as a DVD. Helen and crowd went into Helen's Philadelphia Office, run by Becky, the manager of Helen's various financial affairs, to send the special off to Seattle, the home of Galaxy Studios.

While they were talking, the Gigabyte or more of the special had been humming over the wires. After Becky and Helen had finished talking, they found Marika chatting with the bosses at Galaxy over the line.

“They want to know if you’ll give a Christmas message to the Galaxy fans!”
“Jesus, why don’t they simply call me?”
“Oh, oh, oh! Sorry, Aunt Helen, I guess I forgot to give you back the phone! Oops!”
“Elly, did you have it turned off, silly child?”
“Sorry! It was such a nuisance!”
Helen took the phone from her, and turned to Betsy. “Do you think Santa might be able to afford a phone for the wretched child?”
“Wretched child! Hey, at least I don’t go calling you names!” Elly did her best impression of indignation. Then she spoiled it by thanking Helen and giving her a little hug.
Helen looked up the calls she had missed, and dialed the Galaxy number.
“Hello, this is Helen!”
“Good heavens, we’ve been trying to reach you for the longest time!”
“Yes, well, my phone was kidnapped by a hostile power!”
“What about the message?”
“I’d love to! I was so sure no one wanted a message from me any more!”
“Oh, no; this is for the Galaxy fans. Just happy holidays, and a bright new year, should do it.”
Helen turned to Marika. “What do you think?”
“How about right here, with little Ruth? I can do it with my little camera…”
“We have your old camera here, Marika,” Becky said, with her permanently relaxed crooked smile.
“Oh, perfect! Come on, everybody, into the picture!”
They all protested, but Marika insisted. Dave tried to stand furthest from Helen, but got caught in the frame anyway.
“Hello,” Helen said, “this is Helen Nordstrom, with some of my friends and co-workers in our Philadelphia office, wishing all you Galaxy fans a happy holiday, and a wonderful new year!”

IN the days that followed, Helen welcomed her family, now greatly reduced, to the Philadelphia house. Everyone was introduced to Maryssa, who kept asking Helen to restrict the number of new people she was introduced to to one a day. The process would have taken a week, at that rate.
As Christmas Eve drew near, the little Christmas tree had to work hard to accommodate all the presents that found their way under it. Every night, elves would come down the stairs to put things under the tree, and when one elf met another, there would be excited squeaking. “Jesus,” one elf would say, “you scared the shit out of me!” And the other elf would say, “the same to you, and a good thing the lights were out!” And they would giggle, fight over who got to put his or her present furthest to the back, and chase each other back up the stairs.
Finally it was Christmas Eve, and after a day of excitement and anticipation the littlest ones —and Lisa— were in bed, and the other were watching TV. Unexpectedly, Helen was the unfortunate witness of one of the most vicious personal attacks on her to date. A TV personality showed a clip from Helen’s movie Helga. Helen had just been passing, and stopped out of curiosity when the clip was being shown—a rather innocuous one, at that. To her horror, the man proceeded to say: “Look at her! The Whore of the Galaxy!”
Dave leapt to his feet, his face red. Helen shrank away, her face white. She simply couldn’t deal with the hatred she saw on the man’s face.
“Turn it off,” David said. “Change the channel!”
“I want to see what he says!” cried Elly. “He’s so funny!”
“Turn it off, please!” David was beside himself. “Oh yes, that’s the funniest thing I ever heard,” said David, and his voice shook. He saw Helen, with a stricken look in her eyes, and Elly began to realize how hurt he was to see Helen insulted so. “You could sue them for slander,” he said, “and I’d help you! We’ll break them!” His voice was cracking in shame.
“David, you’re angry! Never make promises in anger!” Helen was calm now, beyond anger. She was focused on how her shame hurt David.
“Angry! He called you a … Jesus, Helen, this is going way beyond free speech!”
“Jesus, sis, he’s right! We’ve got to put a stop to his foul mouth. He’s the one who’s been fueling all this filth. My god, to say such a thing on Christmas Eve! Has he no decency?”
John, Helen's step-brother, only echoed all their sentiments. Grandma Elly and Janet were speechless, while the others murmured their disgust in a confused, sympathetic murmur. Little Elly was only beginning to feel the full sense of what had happened, while Tommy --Helen's step sister, and Little Elly's longtime love, was quietly and silently crying.
“I don’t care,” Helen said quietly, “I don’t care!”
That finished the night for them. When midnight came, and all the rejoicing, they could barely stand to watch. Tommy found Helen staring out into the street, and silently put her arm around her. Jan came round the other side, and stood, trying to think of some way to comfort her.
“I had no idea how vicious it was,” Jan said. “It’s the first time I’ve seen the poison first hand!”
“Poison!” Helen laughed. “Yes. Of course you wouldn’t. We’re out of the habit of watching these kinds of shows.”
Helen watched John and David arguing animatedly in low voices, presumably planning some kind of counter-attack. Marika and Elly were waiting for her near the stairs, the two she felt most comfortable facing. Elly looked pale, but Helen saw a hardness under the surface, the hardness Helen had felt inside her off and on for days, but which had largely left her now. It took too much energy to sustain it. Marika only looked concerned. Unlike Elly, she was too pragmatic to be vengeful.
“Don’t let it eat at you. Only a few eccentric people think like that, Helen. You can’t let imbeciles get under your skin. You’re a hero to me, you always have been, and always will be!” Helen leaned into Marika’s embrace and allowed herself a sigh of gratitude.
Seeing Elly look concerned, she felt pity on the youngster. In three years she had a feel for the idealism that a sophomore could feel, the intense frustration with the perversity of adults. She reached out an arm to this blend of genius and goof-ball who was in some ways the first child of her heart, and Elly came close.
“The guys are planning some action,” she said, with controlled fierceness. “I think we have a good idea,” she added, implying that she had helped.
“Let it go, Elly,” Helen said, managing a smile.
“No freaking way,” Elly said.

There were a million women out there, doing things that were far more repugnant to conservative Christians than Helen had ever done. But her great sin appeared to be that she had dared to sing the praises of the Lord. And in a strange way, Helen understood their fury. Anyone could understand a devil: devils, after all, were a part of creation. It was devils who were former angels that people hated and feared most. And this was what Helen had become: a symbol of the depth of depravity to which one of the chosen could sink.
Helen softly cried that night, all alone. She had sent David away, saying that she regretted involving him in her sinful life. No matter how much he begged her to forget the incident, she refused to sleep with him, even if all they ever did was sleep.

The following morning, which was Christmas, she said she was sorry, but the incident left its mark on both of them. The children tried their best to keep up the Christmas spirit, but it was heavy going. Helen tried to be cheerful, but the best she could do was to sit in the back, trying not to interfere. The gifts were handed out, and after a while, things seemed to get more cheerful. Little Ruth had lots of presents from everyone—clearly a lot of shopping had been going on the last couple of days.

After lunch, Elly talked the others into making a sortie into the Brookses home, to deliver presents to Maryssa. “Call her and ask if she minds us coming, now that she’s met everyone!”
Diane replied for Maryssa, and happily invited them all to tea.
They saw Maryssa, standing at the top of the steps, flinch at the sight of all of them getting out of three cars. It had been a bright, clear day, and the sun was just about to set. Helen, dressed in dark green, went up the steps first, and tenderly hugged Maryssa, and gave her a small package, just as Diane and Matt came out to greet the visitors.
“Please come inside!” called Diane, in her low contralto. She stood by the door, asking each one who he or she was. Each said she was Helen’s sister, or aunt, or an old friend, as the case was, and shook the old lady’s hand and filed inside.
Faithful Peggy and Bridget were there, beaming at everybody, serving hot spiced cider, and Christmas cookies. Helen and Maryssa were seated blushing on the piano stool, and by the looks on the faces of the family, everyone thought they were a lovely couple. Matt and David seemed to have come to terms with their secondary roles, and were talking quietly by themselves. John, Elly and Tom were together, being interrogated by Diane. Grandma Elly and Janet stood with Marika, commenting on the house and the furniture, and Betsy stood alone, watching them all.

Helen had managed to forget the nasty business of the previous night, until she saw a thoughtful look in Elly’s eyes. Suddenly it all came flooding back. She happened to glance at Maryssa, and realized the implications of having been called a whore. She suddenly felt what it meant for Maryssa to be associated with her.
“What’s the matter? You look green!”
Helen looked at Maryssa, and began to sniff.
A few minutes later, Helen was pouring out her heart to Maryssa, while the little gathering gradually broke up. Elly senior explained what had happened to Diane, who was completely shocked.
“Let her talk to Maryssa,” she said finally, “it’s something she can do for Helen.” She shook her head in disbelief. “It’s the price one must pay for that kind of fame,” she mused.
“We’ll squeeze into two cars, and leave one for her,” old Elly said, taking charge. “She should have all the time she needs.”
“Oh, don’t even bother. We can drop her off!”
Elly shook her head. “She’ll hate to impose. It really is no trouble, since we came in three cars, Diane.”

Maryssa’s eyes were filled with tears, and soon the two of them were crying together, bitter and angry.
“Don’t sue,” Maryssa said, fearfully. “Who knows how they’ll fight back? Can you imagine what they’ll say to someone who sues a religious organization?”
“But how can I be silent when they slander me? Today it’s me; whom will they turn on next? Every one who stays silent encourages them to intimidate someone else!”
“No, don’t do or say anything, please Helen! If you love me, just stay calm and be quiet!”
Helen stared at Maryssa, and made her shrink away at the intensity in Helen’s eyes. “You’re afraid they’ll learn about you, and say something mean about you, too!” she accused. The minute the words left her lips, she regretted them.
“Me?” Maryssa took a few seconds to absorb that thought, and Helen bit her tongue. She couldn’t have been more cruel if she had wanted to hurt Maryssa on purpose. “I don’t care, Helen. I’d gladly let them say anything about me, if they’ll leave you alone! It’s you I’m afraid for!”
Helen felt so small, she felt sick. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “What am I thinking? I deserve to be called anything, the way I just insulted you! I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She was sobbing now, and so was Maryssa.
“Oh, it’s all right, don’t cry!” said Maryssa, and they were weeping and sobbing, quietly, as if their hearts would break.
“Well,” said Helen, “I’d better go! “My goodness. What time is it? It’s almost four!” Her face was a disgusting sticky mess.
“You could stay,” Maryssa suggested, “Matt would drop you off tomorrow.”
Helen stood up and cleaned her face up as well as she could. It was impossible; her face was a disaster. “I better go talk to them!”
“Oh Helen! What a horrible thing to happen!” Diane saw Helen and hurried over on her cane to tell her that the family had left, leaving behind the Cherokee for Helen. “I sent them off, so you won’t be under pressure to leave quickly.”
“They’re gone?” Helen asked, stunned. Somehow she felt abandoned. If only one of them, just one of them, Tom, or Elly—David—anybody!— had waited, it would have been okay. But they’d gone, and left her behind. In the twisted mood she was in, it was one more thought-pattern that added to her rapidly growing insecurity.
“They’ve all gone, leaving a car for me,” Helen reported to Maryssa. “I’d better head out; it’s getting dark!”
“Stay here! Just stay tonight. Your room is ready, and everything!”
Helen shook her head. She was fixated on getting back. It was as though she feared they might go somewhere, and she’d never find them.

A long hour later, Helen was in hospital. The car had slid off the road into a gully, and hit a large rock. Helen had been thrown forward violently, crushing the baby she was carrying. There was just one big cut down her face, from her eyebrow to her chin; she lost two teeth, and had to have major reconstructive surgery. She was in hospital for ten days, and when she was smuggled past the Press out into the Brooks's car and driven out to their home, her face was marked with bruises. She had dental work to replace the lost teeth, but she would never be the same person again.

A week later, the dressings and bandages came off.
Amy came back from France as soon as she was informed. Helen had just been told that it would be inadvisable for her to get pregnant again.

One day in late January, Helen finally made her way to the office, at which she had announced she would give a Press Conference. She was restrained; she did not blame the Evangelical Network for her accident; there were errors in judgment on Helen’s part for which the Network could not be held accountable. After that event, Helen went home with her family, now all of them back from Paris, and spent the weekend catching up with Janet, Grandma Elly, Tommy and John.

The most precious moments were in Janet’s room, with Janet and Little Elly. Elly talked and talked, her brain going at a thousand miles an hour, and Janet patiently listened. Finally Elly demanded why she didn’t venture an opinion. Janet simply said that Elly needed to steer her own boat, and she would stand by Elly’s decisions.
“But Mom, I screwed up!”
“I know, darling, but so what?”
Elly took a long while to accept that there was no degree of screwing up she could do that would make Janet make her decisions for her.
“If you’re afraid of life, and you don’t want the responsibility of making decisions, well, that’s different. But that’s not you!”
“Okay, what must I decide first?”
“Where would you like to go to school?”
“I don’t care. I want to go here in Philly.”
“Why?”
“Because. I like this town. And I want to be near Helen.” Helen was so unreasonably happy she hugged Elly until they both hurt. Elly missed Tom, there was no doubt about it, and she didn’t care who knew, except Tommy herself, of course. And Helen was an acceptable substitute.
“I hadn’t really decided to move here,” Helen said quietly.
“Well, you should,” Elly said calmly. “Westfield isn’t going to work out for you.”

[The next installment: Episode 5]
[K]