They Walk Among Us Page 2

  Around 10 A.M., Dena saw her boss, Melissa Ashton, standing at her office door. She thought nothing of it at first; Melissa oftentimes looked out at the lines of customers and would, if the need arose, go behind the counter and relieve the backlog of customers. But, today was slow and there were only a couple of customers at the counter. She wasn’t observing the clerks; Melissa was looking directly at Dena.

  After a moment, Melissa walked over to Dena’s window. “Dena,” she asked, “can we talk in private?”

  Dena, nervous, said: “Sure.” She stood and walked around the counter and went into Melissa’s office. Melissa closed the door behind them and walked to her desk.

  “Have I done something wrong?” Dena asked.

  Melissa leaned back in her chair. “No,” she said, “You haven’t. I’m just concerned for you.”

  “Concerned?”

  Melissa nodded. “I’ve noticed a change in you the last few months,” she told her. “You’ve been calling in sick a lot lately, and I was wondering if we could talk about what’s troubling you, friend to friend?”

  “I don’t know what you mean?”

  Melissa let out a sigh. “I think you do.”

  There was a long moment of silence. “It’s all right to talk,” Melissa said finally. “Trust me, I know how difficult it can be…. but, once you open up, you’ll be amazed how relieved you feel.”

  Dena looked away. “It’s personal,” she said.

  Melissa stood and walked around her desk. She reached out and touched Dena’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said. “Everybody needs help once in a while.”

  Dena looked up into Melissa’s face. “Sam and I haven’t been getting along lately,” she said, almost in tears. “Things are….”

  She trailed off and began to cry.

  Dena patted her on the back. After a few moments, she said: “You might not believe this, but I’ve been in the exact same position you’re in.”

  That seemed to calm Dena a bit, so Melissa continued: “My husband and I haven’t always been financially well-off. We started out much like you and Sam did, struggling to make ends meet. Marriage isn’t the easiest thing to keep going, but money can really put stress on a relationship.”

  “What did you do?” Dena asked.

  Melissa walked back around the desk and sat. “Well,” she said. “Like you, I was afraid to tell anyone. I thought it was all my fault; that it was my problem. That it was single-handedly something I had done that had created the situation.”

  Dena nodded. “I know what you mean. If only I’d done this or that instead — Sam and I wouldn’t be having the problems we’re having.”

  Melissa drew a deep breath. “Is it becoming violent?” she asked.

  Dena vehemently denied that it was.

  “You can tell me if it is,” Melissa said. “I’m not here to judge. When David and I had our issues, I thought it was going that way. Thankfully, we got help before it got to that point. I don’t know if we’d be together today if it had.” She sighed again. “I doubt we would.”

  “How’d you get it to stop?” Melissa asked.

  “We got help. Counseling.” She smiled wide. “But we wouldn’t have if some kind-hearted soul hadn’t intervened. Her name was Margaret, but I call her ‘my angel’.”

  “I don’t understand? Someone intervened?”

  Melissa shook her head. “Yes, and just in a nick of time, I think.” She stood and walked to the window and looked out at the other tellers. “You see, I was very much in the same place that you are now — confused, constantly tired, depressed. I called in sick a lot. I didn’t want people to see me that way. I didn’t know which way to turn. Then, Margaret found me. She told me about this place where women can go. They can feel safe there; get the help they need — whether it is a place to stay or just someone to talk to. I think you should consider going there and talking to someone.” She reached out and removed a piece of paper from a pad on her desk and handed it to Dena. “I took the liberty of writing down the Women’s Center address and telephone number. I’ve been volunteering there for years — ever since my first encounter with them — and I’ve directed more than one person to the services they provide. Give them a call; I know it’ll change your life for the better.”

  Dena looked the piece of paper. “But, I’m embarrassed.”

  “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone needs help sometimes — you just have to be willing to ask for it.”

  They sat there a long time.

  “Thank you,” Dena said.

  Melissa shook her head. “Don’t thank me now,” she replied. “Go there, talk with someone. When your life gets better because of it, then you can thank me.”

  “Okay.”

  Dena stood. Melissa handed her a Kleenex. “Take the rest of the day off,” she said. “Think about it. Better yet, go see them.”

  “All right,” Dena said. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome...in advance,” replied Melissa. “And don’t worry — this conversation is just between us.”

  “Okay.”

  Then, Dena was out the door.

  That afternoon, she called the Women’s Center. The counselor invited her in and they talked. She opened up to her in much the same way she had opened up to Melissa, and the honesty made her feel better than she had in months. Melissa had been right about that part of it. Talking to someone who understood but who wasn’t judgmental did make you feel better.

  She got the help she needed and she got her life back.

 

  One year later:

  Matty felt scared and alone. David had gotten her pregnant, then left. She had no money, nowhere to stay, and no one to call for help. All her friends had left town, moved on with their lives. She had stayed behind with David, because she thought they were in love. Now, David was gone, she was pregnant and she felt like she had no one.

  – Until she saw the flier for the Women’s Center.

  She walked into the building and looked at the receptionist. Her nametag read: DENA –VOLUNTEER.

  “Hi,” Dena said with a genuine smile. It was something she had regained over the past year. And something that she wanted to share with other women. So, she had become a volunteer to help women like her. Or, rather, the old her. The one that had felt so helpless and alone. “Can I help you?”

  “I don’t know who to turn to,” Matty told her. “Will you help me?”

  Dena stood and walked around the desk. “Sure,” she said. “That’s what we’re here for.”

  As Matty started to cry, Dena reached out and held her. “It’s all right,” she told her. “It’s all right.”

  Dena held her close as she cried, and remembered when, not so long ago, her own angel had come in her time of need.

  THE END?