GOOD ENOUGH
"Don't tell me why he's never been good to you
Don't tell me why he's never been there for you
Don't you know that why is simply not good enough?"
Sarah McLachlan, "Good Enough"
He felt like dirt. Why did he insist in the first place? Why was it so important to him that she knew who her birth parents were? When there was a very good reason for her not wanting to know?
She kept shrugging it off every time he asked if she ever had the curiosity. Saying she didn't need to find out who gave her up… who didn't want her. Then, after some time, he knew that wasn't really it. There was more. She told him one day. How she wasn't adopted until she was almost six. And she only spent a year being bounced around among foster families. Which meant she didn't lose her birth parents until she was about five. She had actually known them. And they hadn't given her up. They died in the war.
He had asked her why. Why she had said she was given up. Why she had lied to him. Like she was ashamed of her parents. Her voice had become harsh all of a sudden. How dared he judge her without even having a clue what he was talking about? Besides, he should talk! He who was living under a false name. Pretending to be Zechs Merquise.
That hurt more than a knife. So true. How could he? Yet, why? If she was really his friend… That's what made him cling to the issue of her birth parents. When obviously she wasn't comfortable talking about it. Not even with him. He couldn't let go. He couldn't get over the fact that there was still something that she would not share with him. Something so intimate and so essential like her own origins. It was her right, he thought. After all, what did he have to do with it?
He suddenly felt a pang in his stomach. God, she must have thought… That he was insisting because her adoptive parents weren't good enough. Because they were neither rich nor aristocratic. Just ordinary people. And that he hoped maybe her birth parents were important people. After all, ordinary people don't usually have to run when a war breaks out. Not like her parents did, from the sounds of it.
It all dawned on him when it was too late. To apologize, to tell her that was absolutely not the case. That it made no difference at all whether she was the daughter of a prince or an accountant. Or even a criminal, for all that mattered. She was Lucrezia Noin, his best friend. That was enough to him. He should have let it go.
Too late now. She did it. She went and told him. She couldn't remember her parents. That's what she was most ashamed of. Not knowing who they were, even though she had lived with them for the first five years of her life. Not their faces, not their names. Could not remember. As though her mind had totally removed any recollection of them. And of her life before losing them. Before the foster homes, before moving to Canada. Before being the adopted daughter of Jarod and Kaitlyn Noin from Riley's Cove, Nova Scotia.
She had said that almost emotionlessly. Like it didn't really matter. Like it was nothing. So he would stop asking questions about irrelevant stuff like that. There was nothing to tell. Period. But he knew she was in hell. He knew she hadn't quite figured out how to deal with that. With forgetting. And most of all, with what made her forget. But even then he didn't let go. If only, he became more convinced that she should try to find out.
All the fights they had because of that. All the times she got so exasperated with his stubbornness that she had no more options but to tell him to leave her office. All the times she almost got on the verge of crying out of frustration, but held it all in. And hurled a wireless mouse at him instead, ordering him to leave. And the keyboard would have followed if he hadn't been quick in getting out of there.
How could he not get it? That she knew she was better off having forgotten. Not because her parents were abusive in any sort of way. She knew they had loved her very much. But because something terrible must have happened to make her repress the memory of everything that happened before Jarod Noin found her.
He wasn't satisfied with her fumbling explanations. And, besides, it felt like he was he was violating her every time he coaxed her into talking about it. So he went straight to her adoptive father. Jarod Noin himself, the Federation soldier who had rescued her. And adopted her as soon as he got his honourable discharge from the army. As soon as he heard the question, he looked at him like dirt.
"My daughter knows who her real family is," he said, harshly, "We are. We raised her and loved her like she was our own. Set your heart at peace, young man. Lucrezia Noin is my daughter. And I'm afraid I'm no more than an ex-soldier… or Riley's Cove's only accountant, if you prefer. If her family connections aren't good enough for a Peacecraft, then I'm sorry that she sees so much in you. Because you really do not deserve her good opinion. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some work to do. Good day, sir."
She hadn't talked to him for two days straight upon learning of his visit to Riley's Cove. Rightly so. Then she had walked into his office. Only said, "I wanna know who I am. My father won't tell me. Maybe I should see someone…" And then left, like she came in. No other words. Not even a look at his face.
He knew right there that she wasn't doing it for herself. She was doing it for him. She was giving in to him. And she was resenting him for that. But she called the psychiatrist anyway. She set up an appointment without even saying a word to him. Until the day before, when she asked him if he wanted to come along… just so he would know, too. Just in case she woke up from the hypnosis session still unable to remember. He would be there to witness her as she dug the memories out. And it would be his call whether to tell her after. Whether she'd be better off knowing or not.
He would have wanted to tell her to cancel that damn appointment. That she didn't need to do that. That he didn't need to know. But instead he just said he'd be there if she wanted him to. And he picked her up the day after. And they walked in together. He squeezed her hand right before going through the door and asked her if she really wanted to do that. She didn't answer. She just tugged on his hand and said, "We're here."
Dr. Hawkins must have sensed the discomfort between them right away. She hesitated for a while and reminded Lucrezia that she might find out things that are really unpleasant. Traumatic. She knew.
And the session started. Dr. Hawkins made her lie down on the chaise. Lucrezia managed to relax enough to allow herself to be hypnotized. Then Dr. Hawkins began asking her questions. Asked her to go back to when she was five. To tell her what she saw.
Collapsed buildings. No one around. Mobile suits. The smell of destruction, as she called it in her naïve five-year-old language. Not that naïve. Gunpowder. Mixed with dust from the debris. She was alone. No, her parents were not there. They were up in space now. One day she'd go there, too. And she'd find them. And her little sister. Dr. Hawkins asked if she could tell her the names. She stared at the void and said nothing. Dr. Hawkins asked her to go back some more, to when she was four.
She suddenly smiled and said, "Today I became a big sister, you know?" There we go. Her little baby sister. She was stretching her arms out to the doctor, as if to show her. "Her name's Laura. Cool, eh? Mom and dad say I'm lucky to have a real baby sister. I know a lot of girls who have to make do with dolls. Not quite the same thing." The puzzle had only started to come together.
Dr. Hawkins asked her who the baby looked more like. "Well, let's see," she giggled, "She looks like me! No, but she has brown hair like dad's. Mine's darker, see?" and she held out a strand of her hair to show the difference. "I look more like mom. Got her eye colour, too. But Laura's more like dad. I wish I had green eyes, like him. They're pretty. Don't you think?"
Her mother's name was Chiara. Didn't know what else… just Chiara. Means bright in Italian. So that would be like… Clare, she added. And her dad Lorenzo. Means Lawrence. Of course she knew how to speak Italian, she had lived there. But she wasn't supposed to tell anyone, so it would have to be a secret between the two of them. Her dad would have gotten real mad. Said it was dangerous.
Dr. Hawkins agreed, then asked her what she remembered of Italy. Lots of things, she said. Like she used to be able to climb trees. And she even had her own pony. And it was really pretty, where she lived. Old house on a hill, lots of olive trees and sunflower fields around it. Too bad dad was away a lot. His university was far away, and he also had to travel a lot. Giving speeches because he was real good at what he did.
She wanted to be a teacher too, some day. And he'd come home and tell her a whole bunch of really neat stuff, all about the colonies. And about bad people who didn't want the colonies to be free. And good people who fought to keep them free. He was with the good people, of course. Even met Hiro Yui and shook his hand.
She asked Dr. Hawkins if she knew who Hiro Yui was. He was the head of the good guys, she then explained. Her mom knew him, too. Before they killed him, that is. Anyway, she was lucky because she always had tons of friends around the house. Lots of kids that came from all over the world to stay with them. Mom would take them in. A lot of them did not have a mom or dad any more, and her mom would help them find new families. They all came from the war and were really sad at the beginning. Then by the time they left, they were smiling again.
Mom was a doctor. Lucrezia's eyes frowned as she asked Dr. Hawkins if she thought she should be a teacher or a doctor when she grew up, because she couldn't decide. But she wanted to go to the colonies, she knew that. Besides, it would be kind of funny, if she became a doctor because her last name was DeMedici, which in Italian means 'of doctors'. "Lucrezia DeMedici, medico… Yikes! That would suck!" she giggled. She suddenly put a hand on her mouth and went, "Uh-oh… dad's gonna be real mad now. Just don't tell anyone I told you, ok?"
Zechs kept not making his presence known. Sitting at the other end of the room, listening. And putting the pieces together. Her dad was a university professor and a pro-colony activist. Her mom must have run some sort of charity for war orphans. Somewhere in Tuscany, from the sounds of it. Lorenzo and Chiara DeMedici. Lucrezia… DeMedici her real name.
Dr. Hawkins asked her where she was living now. A little bit everywhere, she answered. Moved a lot. Dad couldn't teach any more because now the bad guys were all over Italy. So they had to leave. First for Switzerland, then Germany, then she didn't even remember. But now they were going to stay in Japan for a while. Said the language was really tough at first, but learning German was even worse. She could only remember the swear words, but that had to be their secret, too.
Then she became serious, all of a sudden. She said, "gotta run now, the MS's are coming and I gotta find my mom and my sister again." She wasn't even scared any more, she must have seen so many. Dr. Hawkins placed a hand on her shoulder, as if to prevent her from getting up, and asked her to think of when she was five again. How her parents and sister left for space without her. She couldn't speak for a while. Stared at the ground. Biting her lips. "I'm telling you, the MS's are coming, you better get out of here and hide, too."
Dr. Hawkins said she would be safe there. Asked to tell her what she saw. Her mother with one-year-old Laura in her arms. Dad with them. Going in the other direction. The other hiding place. She knew lots of them. Federation soldiers going around showing pictures of someone to people. Must be looking for someone. No, not a bad guy, they were the bad guys. They must be looking for good guys. Federation soldiers suck. They are dangerous, and they kill people. Especially good guys. And that lady over there was Rennie, a friend of her mom's. She was the one that took her out to the zoo the day that her sister was born. So that when she came home, she would find the surprise. Cool, eh? Dr. Hawkins nodded.
Suddenly Lucrezia's eyes grew bigger. Her voice agitated. "Why is Rennie pointing at where mom and dad are? She's not with the bad guys… Doesn't she know who they are? Are they after my dad? Tell me, are they? He's a good guy, are they? Is he in danger? Tell me!" She was shaking, as she clasped Dr. Hawkins's arm. Kept looking up at her for an answer. Panic in her eyes. Instead, Dr. Hawkins continued, "What else do you see, Lucrezia?"
Zechs got up from his chair. Enraged. How could she want to go on? He walked towards them. Wanted to end the session right there. Before she saw them die all over again. Dr. Hawkins made a sign at him to step back. She had to remember. No, she didn't, Zechs replied, agitated. She just wanted to know who her parents were. No need to make her re-live the loss, too. Dr. Hawkins did not agree. It was the loss that made her forget. Repress the memory. She had to get over that, too.
Their brief discussion was interrupted by Lucrezia's scream. "Daddy, Mommy, no! Laura, run, over here! No, let go of her, let go! Laura!" Her arms outstretched. Too late. She had seen it now. Again, as if living it once hadn't been enough. Her eyes staring at the void, tears rolling down her cheeks. In shock. Like a five-year-old. Who just witnessed her family being taken from her.
Zechs sat down by her. Took her in his arms as she let it all out of her system. Shaking, her breath interrupted by spasmodic sighs. Tears wetting his shirt. Going straight through to him like a knife. He had done that. There was no justification for making her live through that again. He had made her.
Dr. Hawkins stood and watched them for a while. Wondering if she had done the right thing. If it was worth it… to live through that again just so she could remember again. The pain, along with her parents' faces. The loss of them, along with their love of her. She placed a hand on Zechs's shoulder and told him she was going to wake her up. He did not want to let go of her just yet. She needed him there.
She woke up. Her face still buried in his chest. Her eyes all red with tears. Still jittery. Confused, but somehow knowing everything that happened. As soon as she realized she was being held in her friend's arms, she snapped up and moved back. Blushing. Apologizing for being weak. Staring at the ground. Thanking Dr. Hawkins because now she knew who she was. But not really sure whether there was anything to be grateful for. Other than their faces and their names, the rest was all pain.
He placed a hand on hers and could say nothing but, "I'm sorry." Over and over again, as he slid his arm around her again. Taking her in. Her head leaning on his shoulder, her eyes still lost in the trauma. Sorry for asking her so many times about her family. Sorry for insisting that she find out. Sorry for thinking this was a good idea. Sorry for making her witness that again.
Sorry for being so selfish that he couldn't bear to not know everything about her. Sorry for not telling her how much he loved her. Sorry for never telling her before how special and how brave she was. And for letting her think she had to do this for him. When it was really only about herself. Sorry for still wanting her to be his friend, despite what he just did to her. Sorry for even hoping she could forgive him. Sorry for that "I love you". He wasn't good enough to love her.
"It's not the wind that cracked your shoulder
And threw you to the ground
Who's there that makes you so afraid?
You're shaking to the bone
But I don't understand, you deserve so much more than this."
Sarah McLachlan, "Good Enough"
Epilogue
I found my past. Then why is it that I feel more lost than before? Spent the past two days locked in my quarters. Painting. Sketching things as they surfaced in my head. Before I let myself forget again. But I know I won't be able to this time. Faces. Images. Places.
Mom, dad, Laura. Laura the way she would look now. Me the way I looked back then.
Just tore away at that sketchbook, went through it like a lightning. One image after the other. As though I wasn't even in control. Who am I fooling? Of course I'm not in control.
At least Zechs must be happy. That I have just a little bit of blue blood in me. A DeMedici of Florence. My dad's ancestors. Not that it would mean much of anything, but I guess in his head it beats being a Noin from Riley's Cove, Nova Scotia. At least one of us is happy, out of all this. Happy enough to love me.
But I took his love and I squashed it under my shoe. And I dumped it in the trash bin. Like I did with his dumb roses. Next time I won't even bother reading the note. It just makes it more difficult. Because I wanna believe him, but I don't know how any more. Or maybe I know I shouldn't any more. Been there, done that, got hurt over and over again. No more. Enough.
That I would be good even if I did nothing
That I would be fine even if I went bankrupt
That I would be loved even when I numb myself
That I would be good even if I lost sanity
That I would be good even
Whether with or without you.
Alanis Morissette, "That I Would Be Good"
