The Ring of Fire & Serpents

I sit anxiously in this cold, confined room across from an empty desk. It's quiet. The only sound that can be heard is the soft tune of Johnny Cash's The Ring of Fire playing in the background. I scan the room to see if I can locate the radio where the music is coming from so, I can turn up the volume but, from what I can tell, there isn’t one. It must be playing over the intercom system. I fell into a burnin' ring of fire I went down, down, down and the flames went higher. And it burns, burns, burns. The ring of fire, the ring of fire. I hum along to the melody as I direct my attention towards the glass block window on the wall in front of me, letting little sunlight in. My stomach is doing flips right now as I nervously tap the heel of my right foot on the tile floor. I glance down at my lap to find a loose thread from my sweater; as it hangs over, I reach down to pluck it. I’ve always been this way, very anxious with a touch of OCD. I get it from my mother, I suppose. Suddenly, there’s a gentle knock at the door that nearly has me jolted from my seat. I spin around to find the door opening. A very tall, well-groomed man with salt and pepper hair, black-rimmed glasses, wearing a long white lab coat enters the room. He glances down at the folder before his eyes met mine, “Good Morning, Mrs. Schumacher. I’m Dr. Rosenthal, pleased to meet you.” He says softly as he closes the door behind him. I nod my head shyly as he approaches me and plants his hand on my shoulder. My heart begins to pound out of my chest as I timidly pull away from him. He quickly removes his hand from my shoulder and walks around the desk, pulls out the chair, and has a seat in front of me. I keep my head down to avoid his gaze. I won't allow myself to trust another man again. In fact, I can barely stomach even looking at one at this time. Why would they assign me to a male instead of a female, knowing that I have trust issues with men after what I’ve been through? I guess I will have to try to endure it; after all, he’s a doctor. He has good intentions, right? He places the file on the desk in front of him and clears his throat before speaking, “Mrs. Schumacher, how are you doing today?” he asks. I nod my head without looking up, “Oh, it's Laura, please...I guess I’m okay. I'm enjoying a little Johnny Cash playing in the background while I wait.” He eyes me curiously as he plucks a pen from his jacket pocket and sets it down in front of him and pulls a recorder from his lower pocket, “Ahhh… I see... Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to record this session so that I can revert back, is that okay?” he asks. “Sure,” I respond, my voice is raspy. He reaches down and presses the record button on the player, “Please state your name and date of birth for me, please.” “My name is Laura Sue Schumacher. My date of birth is August 27th, 1978.” I reply. “Thank you, Laura. Now please, if you could, take me back to the beginning; what brought you to this day?” he asks. Reluctantly, I glance up at him, “Where should I start? When I got divorced and moved to Ellisville or after?” “Anywhere you wish,” He responds. I begin to chuckle, “Do you have enough time? That’s an awfully long story.” He glances down at his watch, “You have my full attention for the next two hours; please, take me back if you would.” “Well, okay. I’ll do my best.” He nods his head in agreement. I close my eyes and inhale audibly before I proceed to tell the story... OCTOBER 29, 1996 “Okay, Laura, I need one more push; the baby's head is crowing!” The doctor blurts out as he waits to catch the baby as the next contraction approaches. Steven is on my left, and momma is on my right. Momma reaches up and wipes the sweat from my brow with a cloth as I begin to bear down for the contraction, “She is almost here, baby. You got this.” Momma says as a tear ran down her cheek. I nod my head, and with all my might, I push as hard as I can. Suddenly, I hear a whooshing sound as the baby is delivered. The doctor glances up at us, “Congratulations, it’s a girl!” he states proudly as he places her on my belly. Tears stream down my cheeks as I gaze down at my precious little angel, “Who is going to cut the cord?” the doctor asks. Steven raises his finger, “I will.” I lay my head down as I began to feel lightheaded. I’m exhausted, and I’ve been at this for two hours now. This child was as stubborn as they come. As Steven cuts the cord, Momma brushes the damp hair from my eyes, “You two did good, sweetheart. She’s so beautiful. I’m such a proud Mamaw.” She says. I nod my head and close my eyes as the doctor works to deliver the placenta. I'm too shaken to speak now. The nurse quickly retrieves the baby from my abdomen and places her in the warmer to get her measurements and to clean her up. She vigorously wipes the afterbirth off her skin to get her stimulated to cry. Almost instantly, the baby belts out a high-pitched cry, and the room erupts in cheers. My child has a set of lungs on her, I can tell you that. We ended up naming her Savannah Joy Carmichael. Six months after Savannah was born, Steven and I decided to get married; I took his last name, Carmichael. He was my high school sweetheart. We have been dating since we were sixteen. The pregnancy wasn’t planned, but we both felt it was time to take the next step; we were already parents anyway. Steven’s folks owned a couple of McDonald's in the area, one in Hattiesburg, MS and one in Petal, MS, so his father allowed him to manage the one in Hattiesburg to support his new family. The three of us moved into a tiny rental house outside of town. Life was great; I was a stay-at-home mom and loved every minute of it while Steven worked to take care of us. It wasn’t a year after we were married; I discovered I was pregnant a second time. Sure enough, we welcomed a second daughter a few months later. We named her Sophia Jade, and she was born on April 17th, 1998. We were so grateful that the girls were close in age. Savannah was the adventurous type and very outgoing. Sophia was the funny one, she had us in tears nearly every day with her witty comebacks and sense of humor. Steven and I were happy and decided to complete our little family with just the two girls and I was okay with that. Neither one of us was set on having a big family, so two was enough for us. After a couple of years, Steven worked out a deal and purchased McDonald’s in Hattiesburg from his father, and we were eventually in a good place financially to buy a home. We bought a beautiful four-bedroom, three-bath home in town, and the children had plenty of room to run and play with the neighborhood kids. He and I had a great marriage up until the girls entered high school; that’s when we began to have problems. One day, I discovered a pair of women's panties in the back seat of his BMW, which led to him confessing to having an affair. He told me that he had fallen out of love with me and fell in love with his mistress, Alana. I was absolutely devastated by the news. Alana is the woman he hired to run the McDonald’s once he purchased it from his father. My husband employed his mistress right under my nose, and I had no idea. I seemed to be fooled rather easily, as you can see. Like, I should have seen the signs, right? I wish that I could say that I had, but he hid that little affair extremely well. Not that I was looking for anything to begin with, since I was too busy being a wife and a momma. What baffles me is that we were sleeping together at the same time as he was sleeping with the skag. It makes me nauseous just thinking about it. Anyhow, I can't harp on that any longer because that was long ago, but at the time, I wondered how long the affair had been going on, so I asked him after I found out, but he refused to divulge that information. It was a hard blow for the girls and me. I grieved for months after I found out. Steven, of course, kept the house so he could move his mistress in, but paid me off with half of the equity in the house. The girls and I left in 2014 and moved into a small home my older brother, Allen, owned in Ellisville, MS. He was gracious enough to let us live there rent-free until I found work. We were living off the equity in the home that I was awarded per the divorce and the child support initially. The girls started school in Ellisville and seemed to be doing well. Savannah was a senior, and Sophia was a sophomore. It broke my heart that they were starting a new school this close to finishing school, but they wanted to stay with me; the three of us were very close. I knew the only way I could heal from the trauma of my divorce was to get out of Hattiesburg. I didn’t want Steven’s new relationship thrown in my face constantly or hearing people talk around town, it was just too painful for me. Just knowing the bed that we shared and another woman taking over the house we raised our children in made me overcome with grief. I can’t imagine how it affected the girls. I felt so sorry for them, but deep down inside, it gave me a sense of satisfaction knowing that they chose to be with me over their dad. I needed them as much as they needed me during this difficult time. I knew I needed to find a job to feel good about myself and to give myself a purpose and provide for my girls, which was the last step for our lives to fall into place since the move. I searched for six weeks for work while the girls were in school. It is difficult for a stay-at-home mother to find work. I had little skill set to enter the workforce, and this was a concern for many employers. I began to feel sorry for myself one day and stopped at a local coffee shop to have a cappuccino and to regroup. I had no idea what was in store for me when I did that.