Page 23 of Follow My Voice
At the time I didn’t appreciate the peace and security she was able to transmit with a simple glance.
Thick tears run down my face. “Soup.”
Andy is surprised to hear my voice. It’s the first time I’ve spoken in days. “You want soup?”
I nod, my voice hoarse from tears, as I respond, “Vegetable soup.”
Andy pats my back. “Vegetable soup it is.” He leans over and gives me a kiss on the head.
When Andy comes back a little while later, I don’t move, but he seems to read my mind and picks up the spoon. “Okay, come on, open wide,” he says, playing along as he feeds me a spoonful of soup. It might be the most childish thing in the world, but it’s what I need right now. I don’t know why, but this sense of being taken care of makes me feel safe enough to reenter the world, to reactivate. Andy pats my cheek just like my mother used to. “You’re going to be fine, Klara, I promise.”
His total assuredness makes me feel better. I am so grateful to have Andy in my life. Not just anyone would be willing to put up with what he’s been through with my mom, my sister, and me. He has a wonderful, kind heart. Maybe life, when it rips people away from us, tries to make up for it by putting other people in their place.
“So, I’ve been listening to your radio show with that guy, Kang, right?” he says casually as he feeds me another spoonful. “He’s very good at what he does—he seems quite mature for such a young man.”
I can’t believe Andy has been listening to the show. Yet another thing he does for me.
“He’s mentioned you several times on the air.”
I almost choke on the soup. “He mentioned me?”
“Yes. On more than one occasion. He said he wondered where K could be, asked if you were listening, and said he was surprised that you hadn’t sent any messages. I assumed you were K, it’s too much of a coincidence.”
I continue eating in silence.
Kang mentioned me onFollow My Voice? I find that hard to believe. A tentative feeling of joy buoys to the surface, but the weight of my depression pushes it back down. When Andy finishes feeding me, I stand up and reach for a towel.
“I’m going to take a bath,” I say, but I immediately freeze as I remember the panic attack I had in the shower.
Kamila has stayed with me while I showered the past few times. Andy seems to understand my fear. “I’ll wait by the bathroom door. You won’t be alone. I’ll be right outside in the hall, okay?”
My lips are trembling. “Thank…” My voice breaks, so I try again. “Thank you, Andy.”
He smiles. “You’re welcome, K1, always.”
I feel a little better after showering, but I go back to bed and lay under the covers until I hear the front door open. Kamila must be home from her shift. I get up and start walking to the living room. When I reach the hallway, I come to a halt and watch as she stops in front of Andy, who’s waiting for her in the kitchen. They say nothing, just look at each other for a few long seconds. Kamila starts to cry, and it breaks my heart. Andy hugs her, stroking the back of her head and whispering words of encouragement.
This is the side of Kamila that she never shows me. I know she hasn’t had it easy, either. Just because she’s a psychiatrist doesn’tmean she’s made of stone. She was deeply affected by our mother’s death and her work is emotionally draining. A few months ago, a patient she’d been treating for years died by suicide, and that broke a part of her that I’m not sure can ever be put back together; she feels like she failed him.
I don’t want to be a burden to her, to make things harder. Heartbroken for Kamila, I return to my room, determined to stay afloat and overcome my deactivated state. I think back to Kang’s soothing words as he helped me through my panic attack. Kang…
“It’s going to pass, K. I’ll stay with you until it does.”
“I’m here with you, K. You’ll feel better soon, you’ll see.”
Hearing his voice on the phone was a thousand times better than listening to him on the radio. I’ll never forget that feeling of having him so close.
Well, that was the last time, unless you’re planning to make him talk to you again out of pity.
I run my hand along the window and feel the cold glass on my fingers. I try to tell myself that Kang doesn’t pity me, that he understands what it’s like to suffer a panic attack. He stayed with me until it was over.
I plug my phone in and leave it charging while I open the curtains so I can watch the leaves dance in the breeze. It looks so pretty and relaxing. Mom was the biggest fan of the fast-approaching season, and her enthusiasm made it grow on me. She used to say fall leaves were nature’s confetti, that it was Earth’s way to cheer us up. I guess that’s why one of my favorite paintings is of an autumn forest with a little cabin in the distance. Cliché, I know, and some would consider it basic. In my defense, I could picture myself in that cabin, smelling nature and watching the leaves fall during a crisp morning. I’d wear a sweater while holding a cup of hot cocoa. I wonder if I will ever be able to do that: travel and stay in a remote place like that. It seems impossible now. What other things and experiences am I missing while staying here?
More sadness flows through me at all the possibilities of things I could be doing out there.
I settle back into bed and pick up my phone, now charged enough to power on, and I feel it vibrate in my hand. There are tons of notifications about new episodes of Korean dramas, voicemails from Kamila on the day of the panic attack, and… eleven messages from Kang!
My heart leaps as I open the chat thread to read from the first message to the most recent.
