"ALTERNATIVE PERSPECTIVE" by Shawn O'Shea

Kat Carter sat behind the wheel of her parked care absently staring through the windshield, only her subconscious recognizing the beauty of the gradual color changes the rising sun painted across the early morning sky. It was a blinding ray of light gleaming off one of the hospital's windows at just the right angle striking the corner of her right eye that finally brought her out of her trance but did not stop the inner mantra which put her in that state: 'Should I call or shouldn't I? Should I call or shouldn't I? Should I call or shouldn't I'.... Pure exhaustion and utter confusion about the conversation she had with her son the previous night made the simple decision seem to need a think tank of experts to make the proper choice.

Before she realized what she was doing, the distraught woman was pushing the speed dial button on her cel phone assigned to her son's San Francisco apartment. Suddenly a new thought infiltrated her mind, 'Oh, god!, please don't let HIM answer.'

HIM was Terry, her son's roommate and "friend." According to her precious baby boy (Kat would never stop thinking of he youngest child that way, despite her "baby boy" was now thirty-four years old), Terry was a freelance web-site developer who worked out of their apartment. That meant it was HIM who usually answered the phone.

Kat wanted to hang up when the ringing was replaced by the sound of someone fumbling with the receiver while trying to coordinate placing it to their ear. The obviously annoyed person who answered the phone managed a hoarse and groggy, "Hello?"

'Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! HIM didn't answer!'

Unaware she was sounding coy, "Steven? It's mom."

"Mom? What's wrong?" He still sounded groggy, but his annoyance turned into concern.

"Nothing's wrong, honey. I just think we need to talk about it some more."

Mother's baby boy was annoyed again. "Now!? What time is it?"

Kat glanced at the digital numbers in the center of her dashboard. "Well, it's six-thirty here, so I suppose for you it's nine-thirty."

Failing at keeping his sigh from sounding like a groan, Steven corrected his mother----again, "No, mom. I'm three hours behind you. Behind you!"

"Oh. So that means it's only...."

"Right. It's only three-thirty here."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"You never do." Steven recognized his statement for fact sounded like a harsh admonishment. "Don't worry about it. I'll be able to get back to sleep."

Not taking her son's hint to let him go, Kat expressed the thought which had just occurred to her, "Why didn't he answer?" When she had always made the same time conversion error, HIM was the one to answer the calls.

Knowing his mother did not intend her emphasis on the word 'he' to be as insulting as it sounded, Steven responded, "Terry? He spent the night somewhere else. He'll be home later tomorr----today."

"Already he's stepping out on you? I really think you should reconsider this whole thing."

Sounding more awake and more frustrated, "I really don't think Terry's out cheating on me right now, mom."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Let's put it this way: If he is, he has bigger problems than I do."

"Why's that?"

"Because he went just down the hall to crash at his sister's."

"Oh. I see." Although she felt a tad bit foolish, Kat tried to salvage her original point, "Well, I still think you should step back from this thing. At least give yourself some time to think it over."

"Time? Terry and I have been together for seven years now! Living together for five of them! I think we've thought it over about as thoroughly as we can. How much more time do we need?"

Kat felt even more disheartened that she did before she made the call. Those experts in her head had made the wrong choice; Despite their misguided advice, she knew there was now no retreat from this battle. "But marriage!? Is that even legal?" She knew this was the point of the argument to offer a concession, "Couldn't you just live together and be happy?"

Steven was doing the best he could to control his rising anger. "You DID NOT call and wake me up in the middle of the night to start in on me! I am so over fighting about this with people! I just agreed to marry the man I love! I'm happy, damn it!, even if you're not!"

"People? What people have you been fighting with?"

"First you. Then Terry. Then Terry's sister because I fought with Terry. Now you again."

A feeling of guilty pleasure and satisfaction coursed through her. "You fought with Terry?" Now believing HE was in agreement with her, saying HIM's name came easily, "Doesn't Terry think you two should get married either?"

"That's not what we fought about, mom."

Deciding to push her luck, Kat asked hopefully, "Did he change his mind? Did he say marriage didn't make sense to him, so nevermind?"

"No, mom."

"What, then?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? It couldn't have been about nothing. Tell me! Tell me what you fought about."

Steven's final button had been pushed. "You! Okay!? We fought about you!"

Kat had never hung up on any of her three children, however, she was debating whether or not if now would be appropriate to do so for the first time. Fearing what his answer might be, she quietly asked, "Me? Why were you fighting about me?"

Without missing a beat, he responded, "When I told him all you seemed to really be concerned with was what would the rest of the family, your friends and your co-workers think about our plans, he called you an egotistical, selfish, cold-hearted bitch."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"And what did you say to that?" She closed her eyes in expectation of his stinging words.

"What do you think I said?"

She started to cringe.

"I told him not to call you that." He paused. "You're my mother!" Kat opened her eyes and let her defenses down. "Only I can call you an egotistical, selfish, cold-hearted bitch!"

Kat felt stung. As a tear slowly glided down her cheek, she asked, "Is that what you think of me? That I'm a bitch?"

"Yes. No. Well----not usually."

"And what does that mean?"

"Normally you're fine. At least with most things. But about this?----Yes, your are being a bitch."

"How can you say that!? All I really want, sweetie, is the very best for you."

"No, mom. You don't. All you really want is the very best for you."

"That's not true!"

"Oh, god!, why do you insist on doing this now?" The sound of Steven's loud sigh as he drew a breath for confidence into his lungs told Kat her son was now going to thoroughly explain his view on the matter. "All you've focused on since I called you with this news----this good news----is how people are going to look at you after they find out your gay son has made a lifetime commitment to someone he is in love with and who is in love with him."

The only rebuttal her brain could form was, "You have it all wrong. Honestly, Steven, I just don't want anyone to judge you negatively." Before thinking it would be adding fuel to the embers she added, "I never even told anyone that you're, you know, gay."

"Mom! I'm thirty-four years old! I'm single by your definition! And I live in San Francisco in an apartment I share with a man I have brought as 'my guest' to weddings and other major family functions! I think they have pretty much figured out I'm gay! I don't think it will be a big shock what Terry and I are planning!"

"But you know how they are, honey."

"I know how YOU are!"

"That's not fair."

"Look, mom, I really am too tired to argue with you right now! Can't we do this later tonight?"

"I'm not trying to argue. I just want you to explains to me, why marriage?"

"Would you be asking me this if I told you I was engaged to a woman?"

"Of course not."

"Then why the hell are you asking it now!?"

"Don't you dare yell at me, Steven Joseph Carter! I am still your mother!"

"I'm sorry. It's just that I'm tired and I'm frustrated and----" The tone in her son's voice suddenly switched from anger to one she could not quite define. "Mom, I have to go. I'll call you back in a little while." The connection died.

I can't believe he hung up on me! She became even more frustrated after trying to call him back and receiving only a busy signal. Why is he doing this to me!?

Kat snapped her phone shut, slit it into her purse and opened the car door which automatically released the confining safety belt. Instinct more than attention guided her feet toward the hospital entrance and then to the elevator which carried her to the eighteenth floor.

Though she arrived in time for the standard report given by the nurses from the previous shift, Kat was oblivious to all that was said. The only thought racing through her head were, how am I going to possibly explain all of this to the family?', 'What are they going to think of me?', and 'What did I do wrong to deserve this?'

"Kat? Kat? Kathy!" The sharpness of the shift supervisor's voice brought the distracted nurse back to her job.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

A look she read to be pity was on his face as the supervisor repeated, "I asked if you wanted to go home. Really, it's okay if you do. Everyone would understand."

"Why would I want to go home?" Kat was confused. "Understand what?"

"That you must be too upset to work."

"Why would you think that!?" Defensively she added, "What could I possibly be upset about!?"

"The news. We heard it over the radio just before you got here." He placed his hand on her arm just below her shoulder. "You must be devastated."

Kat felt as if the entire world had been shaken and it was now crumbling down all around her. 'The news!? How would it be on the news this fast!? Why would it even be on the news at all!!?'

"So do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Want to go home? Try to get a hold of your son or at least wait for him to call?"

"You don't understand. I tried to call the the line was busy."

"That makes sense. Everyone must be trying to get through."

'Everyone? Who is everyone and what do they know!? Why would Steven want to tell everyone!? Why is he DOING THIS TO ME!!?' "Yeah. I think I'll just stay at work. Here, at least, I can try to focus on something else." The last think she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts about Terry's and Steven's future plans. "I just don't want to think about it."

"Fine. But I'm giving you a light patient load. Our census is low, anyway."

"Okay. Who do I have?" Kat opened her little notepad to scribble the pertinent information about her charges.

"1802, 1811 A and B, and 1849."

"Four? That's all?"

"The rest of us just have five each. I told you, we only have thirty-four patients on the floor. Less than half the beds."

"What do I need to know about them?"

"It was all in report." Annoyed, "Weren't you paying attention? Are you sure you don't want to go home?"

"No. I don't want to go home. Just tell me again, please."

"0-2 was taken down for her surgery before we came on and is not expected back until tonight. 11A sleeps most of the time, except during meals, and only needs to be checked in on occasionally for I-V changes. B is actually being discharged today and 49 is Miss Nellie. You already know what's going on with her."

The eighty-seven year old Miss Nellie, as she insisted everyone call her, was the staff's favorite patient. She had been on the eighteenth floor for just over a month; originally admitted to set a broken arm sustained from a fall while on her way home from Sunday services, her stay had been extended after contracting a case of pneumonia which even the strongest I-V antibiotics were only slowly curing.

Kat began her duties for the day, only the fact that she had been working as a nurse for over thirty years keeping her from making any critical errors. However, the few instances when she wasdid manage to tuck away her feelings of embarrassment behind her concentration to her tasks, inevitably who would be interrupted by a coworker stopping to say, "Kat, honey, I just heard the news. It's awful!" or, "You must be terribly upset." Even the man from maintenance made a special effort to console, "I really hope your son's okay."

To each comment, Kat simply responded, "Thank you. But, I'll be fine."

It was not until she had finished discharging Mr. Jeffries and absently heading down the hall to Miss Nellie's room that she literally bumped into the hospital's chaplain. Twenty-four hours earlier, he was the personification of everything she believed in and knew to be true, but now he stood before her representing confusion and ambiguity.

With his hands on her shoulders, he inundated her with rote cliches such as, "God's will is mysterious.", "Have faith that everything will be okay.", and, "All we can do is pray."

"But, Father," she pleaded, " I have been praying. I've been praying for years!" She had to force herself not to let the tears flow from her eyes. "I feel like this is all my fault. That I have done something so horrible in my life to deserve this!"

"No one deserves this, my child. Not the people being affected and certainly not you." While Kat was trying to figure out why the chaplain had used the word 'people,' he added, "But natural disasters do happen."

Believing her baby boy's life had just been compared to a 'natural disaster,' Kat abruptly excused herself and started again for her destination at the end of the hall.

Without acknowledging the silver-haired lady's, "Good-morning, dearie." as she entered 1849, Kat allowed her knees to buckle which resulted in her landing in the tan, faux-leather chair usually used by patients' visitors. At last losing control of her emotions, she thrust her face into her hands and sobbed more uncontrollably than he ever had.

Many years of life had taught Miss Nellie the benefits of a good hard cry. So, the wise old woman patiently laid there propped up by her pillows. After a few minutes, when the upset woman's torrent of tears began to subside, she said in a tone, which had years ago become perpetually motherly, "Tell Miss Nellie what's the matter, dearie."

Kat tore her face from her hands, "Oh, Miss Nellie, it's awful! I'm awful!"

"Now, now. Things are never as bad as we believe them to be. Tell me exactly what it is that you think is so awful."

"I can't. You wouldn't understand."

"Honey, trust me. There aren't many things left about life I don't understand."

Kat sniffled. "This may be one of them."

"Try me."

Mustering the courage during the split second she used to inhale a deep breath, Kat decided to trust the old woman with her problem----part of her problem, "It's my son, Steven. He called me last night to tell me hi's getting married."

"That's the last thing to be upset about, dearie."

"That's not the problem." Kat sniffled again. "It's who he's marrying that's the problem!"

Very matter of factly, Miss Nellie asked, "Don't you like him?"

Stunned as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown on her, Kat desperately hoped she had misheard or misunderstood the question. Afraid of the response, but more afraid to leave it floating, "What do you mean? I love my son. What kind of question is that?"

Miss Nellie laughed. "Of course you love your son, dearie. I already knew that by how often and how affectionately you talk about him."

Despite feeling surprised at her apparent unconscious openess about Steven, Kat felt a sense of relief.

"I meant the young man his is going to marry. Don't you like him?"

"What!?" Kat wanted to run out of the room, out of the hospital, out of her life.

"Well?"

The words formed in Kat's mind were those of adamant denial; The words that formed by Kat's lips were, "But....how....how did you know that...."

"That your son Steven is gay? Dearie, I may be well past old and frail of health, but my mind is sharp enough to cut through steel." Miss Nellie saw her nurse still looked confused. "You may not have said the exact words, but you have mentioned your son and his 'friend' many times. On occasion you've put emphasis on the words 'his roommate.' Once even, I think you must have been tired, since it was the end of your shift, you said, 'my son and his partner.'"

Looking down in shame, "You must think I'm a horrible mother."

"And why would I think that, dearie?"

"Because my son is gay. Because he is marrying a man."

"Does the man treat Steven well?"

"Yes."

"Does the man love Steven?"

"Yes."

"And does Steven treat him the same and love him, too?"

"Yes, but...."

"So, dearie, what is the problem?"

"The problem is, what will people think!?"

"About what?"

"About their marriage? About Steven?" Kat paused. "about me?"

"People will think you raised your son to be the type of man who is capable of caring for and loving another human being. And, well, if hey don't care for who he loves, that's their problem, not yours."

Not willing to concede to common sense, Kat protested, "That's very easy for you to say, you don't have a son who's gay."

Miss Nellie sank back into her pillows. "That's true. I don't."

"See."

"My daughter is." Taking advantage of the shock she knew Kat was feeling, the elder mother added, "And she has been in a relationship, a marriage, with the same woman for thirty-three years now."

"And that doesn't upset you?"

"Why should it? Susan is very happy with her life. All my children are. What more can a mother ask for? Miss Nellie leaned her head forward. "Is Steven happy?"

"He says he is. I think so. Yes."

"Then stop worrying about what others think and start allowing yourself to be happy for him."

"How? How do I do that?"

"You just do it. Start by going to him right away and, as you hug him, tell him how much you love him and always will."

Feeling a bit lighter, Kat stood. "You're right. Thank you so much, Miss Nellie!" She hugged her elderly patient. "I'll call him tonight."

"You're welcome, dearie, but it would be better to see him in person. You can't hug him over the phone."

"I would love to able to do it that way. Unfortunately, there's no way I can."

"Yes, you can. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"It's not that." Kat started fluffing Miss Nellie's pillows. "It's just he lives all the way out in San Francisco."

"Oh, my! Really?"

Miss Nellie's sudden tenseness caused the nurse to stop what she was doing and apprehensively ask, "Yes. Why?"

"You haven't heard? Well, I'm sure it's okay. That he's okay." The old woman did not want to continue.

"Haven't heard what!? What's okay!? Who!? Tell me!"

"San Francisco had a major earthquake just a few hours ago." Miss Nellie increased the volume level of her television. "It's been all over the news."

The newscaster seemed to be speaking directly to Kat, who could do nothing but listen and stare at the tiny flickering screen. He informed her that around 3:42 a.m. West Coast Time, The City by the Bay suffered an 8.2 magnitude earthquake. He explained that reports were still coming in, but what they knew at that poing was in addition to three cables on the Golden Gate Bridge snapping, a large number of buildings had collapsed, including the Ferry Building at the Embarcaderro and the Conservatory of Flowers in Golden Gate Park. As yet, there was no death toll, and there were major fires in almost every part of the city.

The worst of the fires, he went on to report, was in the Mission District which was over fifty-percent engulfed. As the news caster spoke, the picture flashed to show an aerial view of the ongoing devastation.

Through the billows of black smoke and mountains of flames, Kat recognized the suffering area as the neighborhood in which her son and is roommate lived. Still in her trance, she forced herself to speak, "I'm sorry. I have to go now." And with her movements matching the monotone sound of her voice, she turned and walked out of the room.

Acting purely on automatic, the semi-catatonic woman moved toward the nurses' station where her supervisor happened to be. "Kat, how are you holding up?"

Reaching below the counter where she had stowed her handbag, she answered him only with, "I'm sorry. I have to go now." Without further explanation, Kat, through instinct more than attention, guided her feed toward the elevator which lowered her to the lobby and out the hospital doors.

During her drive home, Kat was so distraught she did not notice the several accidents she nearly caused. She could only focus on every horrible thing she had ever said to her son, how she have more often told him how much she loved him because now it may be too late; What a horrible mother she was!

Several hours later, still in a surreal mindset, Steven's mother sat on the edge of her couch, television remote in hand, flipping back and forth through several major news channels listening to the same repeated facts, unrealistically hoping to hear a report stating specifically her baby boy was alive and well.

Every fifteen minutes, she picked up the phone and dialed her son's number. Each time her call was answered by a series of beeps followed by by a calm, cold voice telling her all circuits were currently busy and suggesting she try her call again later.

This routine continued for three days broken only when she would fall asleep due to exhaustion, although these perios of rest never lasted more than forty-minutes each. By the end of the second day, Steven's older sister and brother had joined their mother. Worried for their brother, they were equally concerned about their mother, whom they had to force to keep drinking fluids and eating.

With the exception of on of her children occasionally saying, "Here, Mom, eat this." or "Drink this." The family members sat in silence.

Mid-afternoon on the third day of being bombarded with information which seemed to grow worse as the hors passed (the only good news being the Mission District fire was now contained to only one block) Kat was finally awakened from her trance when the phone, which everyone now realized had amazingly remained silent the whole time, began to ring.

Attacking the receiver, Kat shouted, "Hello? Steven? Is that you? Are you okay?"

"Mrs. Carter?" The voice coming through sounded as if the person had been crying and just now stopped. "This is Terry. Steven's friend."

"Terry!? Where's Steven!? What's wrong with Steven!?"

"He----he's----" Terry began to sob.

"Oh, my god! Is----is he----well, is he!?"

Inhaling, Terry answered, "I'm sorry. I just had to recompose myself." He sniffled. "Steven's okay. He's alive. It's just----"

"Just what!?"

"It's just that as everyone was leaving after the initial quake, an aftershock hit and collapsed the building trapping several people inside----including Steven." Terry paused long enough to take a deep self-assuring breath but continued before Kat could ask any questions, "He was buried under the debris for almost thirty-six hours before the rescue team reached him. When they did, we saw he had suffered a concussion, several broken ribs and a shattered femur."

Using all she had to remain calm, "Where is he now?"

"They flew him to the USS Mercy, a Navy hospital ship right outside the bay."

"Was he conscious?"

Holding back his tears, "Yes, but barely. He was really weak from dehydration and his injuries." There was a seemingly eternal pause while both Kat And Terry searched for the right thing to say. Finally, unable to repress his need to cry any longer, Terry egan to bawl uncontrollably. "I----I----I'm sor----sor----sorry, Mrs. Carter."

Mother's instinct had told Kat her Steven was in good hands and would be okay. It also allowed her to now turn her attention to the upset young man she was talking to. "For what? Not calling sooner? I understand. All the lines were busy. Believe me, I know. I've been trying for----"

"No! Not that!"

"What then?"

"For----for----for not being with him when it happened! No," He loudly exhaled, "For it not being me instead of him!"

"Terry! Why would you say such a thing!?"

"Because I know how much you love him!"

Suddenly Kat understood everything Steven had ever told her. "You love him , too, don't you?"

"With all my heart. There's nothing I would do for him. It hurts so much knowing how much help he needs now and not being able to do anything for him That's another reason I wish it was me!"

"Don't be silly. I know Steven pretty well, and from how much he's told me he loves you, he's more worried about you're feeling right now."

"He told you that? He actually told you he loved me?" Terry cringed at putting the emphasis on 'you.'

"Of course he did. And why shouldn't he?" The pride in her next statement surprised even her. "After all, you two are getting married."

"Yeah, but,----he told me you didn't like the idea. That you tried to talk him out of it."

"What's not to like? You love each other and make each other happy. What more could a mother ask for?"

"He made it sound as if you hated the idea. Hated me."

"I admit I said some pretty insensitive things and I'm sorry for that."

"That's okay."

"But if you're going to marry my son, Terry, there are two things I am going to ask you do to. First, try to accept that when I get flustered, I don't always say what I mean or mean what I say."

She actually made Terry giggle. "Okay. And the other?"

"Call me Mom!"