The Healing Horse, Ch. 24, Scene 2: The Binders

After bracing themselves for another ordeal, Karen and Mama return for the evaluation.

Scene 2: The Binders

“Thank you for coming back, Mrs. Hearshstein and Karen. We are ready to begin the evaluation. I’m sure the afternoon will go better than the morning. Walk this way with me please.”

When she said that the afternoon would go better, Karen looked up at Mama. Their eyes met. They both had the same thought. Mrs. Pinzetti meant better for her, not for Karen.

Karen trailed along, as the therapist led Mama to a seat in the back of the room, behind the experts, as far from Karen as she could be. Then she followed her to a table in front of everyone. It had two chairs and a stack of thick binders in front of one of them. They held Karen’s school records, and the school policy was that no one but educators and therapists could see them—not even parents. Mrs. Pinzetti pulled out the chair without the binders.

“Please have a seat, Sugar. I have some questions to ask you.”

Karen knew what kind of questions they would be. Mrs. Pinzetti was not only a physical therapist. She was the closest thing the school had to an expert on special education.

Karen took a deep breath and sat down.

The Healing Horse, Ch. 24: The Evaluation, Scene 1: You’ll Never Walk Alone

image of movie poster for Rodgers & Hammerstein's Carousel This scene begins Chapter 24, which is all about the psychological evaluation that the school puts Karen through. She and her mother both know that the experts want to make her look retarded, but she refuses to go along with them.

Image courtesy of Heritage Auction via Pinterest

Scene 1: You’ll Never Walk Alone

As one o’clock approached, Karen and her Mama bussed their cafetorium trays and walked out into the deserted hallway. Karen’s butterflies returned, as memories of the horrors Mrs. Pinzetti and Mrs. DeLuca planned squeezed her heart.

Mama looked down at her and said, “Hum along with me, my Krana Layala. Have no fear. I am by your side.”

Mama hummed. Karen joined in, as they walked. The lyrics of the Rodgers and Hammerstein song swelled her heart with courage. She knew them by heart.

When you walk through a storm hold your head up high
And don’t be afraid of the dark.
At the end of a storm is a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark.*

They stopped in front of the door to the Physical Therapy room. As Mama lifted her hand to knock, the door opened, and the aroma of freshly baked lasagna flowed out. It smelled almost as good as Mama’s. One of the ladies from the school kitchen pushed an aluminum rack loaded with pastel cafeteria trays and dirty dishes by them. Karen held the door open for her.

“I’m glad you enjoyed your lunch,” the lady called back to the experts.“We wouldn’t want you to have to eat the same thing the students get or sit in the cafetorium with them. Someone will bring you fresh coffee and cookies later. We’ll bake the cookies, just before we bring them!”

Karen watched as the cook with her rack of trays disappeared down the hall. She looked up at Mama, whose slight frown said she was mildly annoyed. She would not reveal that she was furious. The experts got special treatment even from the kitchen, and the cooks knew the food they served the children was not good enough for adults.

Mrs. Pinzetti approached with her phony smile on her face.

*Lyrics quoted from https://www.songlyrics.com/rodgers-hammerstein/you-ll-never-walk-alone-from-carousel-lyrics/

The Healing Horse, Ch. 23, Scene 18: Yogurt and Courage

This scene concludes Chapter 23: The Promenade. Karen now knows what the evil experts are plotting for her. Even though she is frightened, she finds courage and knows she is fighting them not only for herself, but for everyone with disabilities. Stay tuned for the battle of wits…

(Image courtesy of Nickispeaki, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 18: Yogurt and Courage

Karen looked up at Mama and said, “I’m sorry, but I’ve lost my appetite,” as she pushed away the yogurt carton.

“Oy vey, my Krana Layala, you look more upset than you did after the clinic. What’s wrong? I thought you were going to take a few minutes to relax.”

“I did, Mama. I locked myself in a stall in the ladies’ room, but then something terrible happened. Mrs. Pinzetti and Mrs. DeLuca came in, and…”

Her heart felt as if it were on fire, as she told Mama what she had overheard. Mrs. DeLuca changed her test scores to give her a low IQ. Mrs. Pinzetti exaggerated her CP so she looked hopelessly paralyzed. Now, Mrs. Pinzetti wanted to push her into a nervous breakdown. Then the doctors could give her electroconvulsive shock therapy. It would turn her into a vegetable, and Mama into a nervous wreck, who would agree to anything, even to amputating an arm and a leg.

As she spoke, Mama’s face went pale and sweat broke out on her forehead. She frowned and pursed her lips.

“My Krana Layala, know this: none of that is going to happen. Now that I’m onto them, I can stop them. There’s nothing they can do without my permission. How do you feel about standing up to Mrs. Pinzetti?”

“Mama, if I could stand up to Mrs. Schmidt, I can stand up to Mrs. Pinzetti. I have to stop these evil experts. If they want to do this to me, can you imagine what they will do to Tammy?”

Mama raised her eyebrows, as if she were stretching her face to relax it. Without speaking, she took a clean, white handkerchief out of her purse and patted her forehead. She opened her compact and powdered her face, then put on more lipstick.

Karen watched, and asked, “Mama, how come you’re so quiet?”

“Because I want to make sure everything goes right for you. Here, use my hairbrush to fix your hair. We are going into battle, so we need to look sharp. I can talk to Principal Stephie, later, but right now we have to face these monsters. Besides, she may not be able to do anything. These experts have a lot of power. She can’t just run them out of the building. This is going to be a battle of wits. We need to stay calm. No more Sarah Heartburn. Okay, my Krana Layala?”

“Okay, Mama, I’m ready for anything.”

“That’s my girl. Now, eat your yogurt. You’ll need your strength for this.”

The Healing Horse, Ch. 23, Scene 17: Mama in the Cafetorium

image ot school cafetorium While Karen tries to find some peace by being alone in the ladies’ room, Mama does the same over a coffee in the cafetorium. New word for you? Think school auditorium with folding down tables and attached seating for lunches.

(Image courtesy of FreshCorp619, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 17: Mama in the Cafetorium

Meanwhile, Mama walked down the hall to the cafetorium. It was the largest room in the school. Folding tables with attached seats came down from the walls, when meals were served. The stage at one end was for school plays and performances. So, it was both the cafeteria and the auditorium.

She said hello to Mrs. Pearl and bought a cup of vanilla yoghurt for Kitten but only black coffee for herself. She was too fat. Maybe the caffeine would burn off a few calories.

There was an empty place at the end of one of the long tables. She took it so she could think. She needed help figuring out what kind of education Karen needed for her future. Karen needed to become a literate, well-read young lady, so she could succeed in college and a career. They had spent many evenings together, working on her basic reading skills, after the classroom teachers gave up. Principal Stephie had promised to hire a specialist teacher, who would be able to help, but the Child Study Team was useless. Dr. Lambert and the others were driven by greed for surgical fees and lust for power. They had spent the morning tormenting Karen so they could make their annual recommendation of experimental surgery. They would torment her more with insultingly simple intelligence tests in the afternoon. Then they would recommend that she continue the course of education they had prescribed in the past, even though it was not working. They were not even thinking about how Karen would support herself when she grew up.

Mama finished the black coffee and put down the cup. She wished she had said no to the second DPT shot, when her Krana Layala was a baby. Now, it was too late to change that, but how could she get her girl the education she needed?

Karen entered the cafetorium. Her forehead was pale, and her face was puffy from crying, but her cheeks were red like fire, red like the note Mama had written with her red hot lipstick, red like the words she had scribbled to the teacher about Karen needing homework that she could do by herself. Without saying a word, Karen hugged her and sat down.

The Healing Horse, Ch. 23, Scene 16: An Evil Plot Revealed

Evil therapists revealing their plans while powdering their noses? A frightened teen hiding in a toilet stall? Read on, as the stakes grow higher in the game of disabled girl versus evil experts.

(Image courtesy of Satin Finish, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 16: An Evil Plot Revealed

The door from the hallway opened. Karen took a deep breath. She did not want to be discovered in the grown-up restroom. The hard click of high heels sounded on the floor. She peeked through the gap between the stall’s door and frame. Mrs. Pinzetti and Mrs. DeLuca stood in front of the mirror over the wash basins, deep frowns on their faces.

Both women took compacts out of their purses and powdered their noses, as they talked.

Mrs. Pinzetti hissed, “We can’t let Little Sugar and her fat mother take control. Lambert is going to blame me, even though he’s the one who let them get away with throwing that tantrum in clinic. Sugar is already slated for surgery. That’s what Lambert cares about. He just wants his fee, and he’s going to make life hell for me if he doesn’t get it. Besides, you and I need our cuts. I wish Karen really were retarded. Are you sure you changed the scores on her tests, so we have paperwork to back us up?”

“Yes,” Mrs. DeLuca whispered. “They were all way above average, but I moved them down to be in line with her paralysis. The only problem with her learning is transposing, and she compensates for that. I can’t believe Muñoz scored her as high as he did! We need to get Lambert to straighten him out. If he thinks he’s going to get his cut, then he’d better get more creative with his testing.”

They closed their compacts and put them away in their purses before taking out shiny, gold tubes of lipstick. Mrs. Pinzetti added, “And I exaggerated her physical problems in my report. She does pretty well for a kid with a weak left side, but I make her sound like that arm and leg are useless and might as well be removed.”

For a moment, the room was silent as they colored their mouths bright red. Then Mrs. Pinzetti said, “I’m going to take a hard line during the eval and break little Sugar right in front of her mother. I’m going to make her look like the idiot we need her to be. And, if the mother won’t approve surgery, now, then maybe she will after I give her daughter a nervous breakdown.”

“A breakdown!” Mrs. DeLuca laughed. “But how?”

“Watch and learn. The kid thinks I care about her, so I’ll just lay on the smiles while I make her therapy hell. Eventually, she’ll crack. Once she cracks, Lambert can order shock therapy to cook any remaining charm out of that little brain. The mother will agree to anything to help her child. They always do. After that, Karen’ll be a slobbering vegetable. Seeing the effect of the shock treatment on her daughter will destroy the mother. It always does. She won’t object to surgery after that. Right now, we need to get back into that room and drop some hints, so Lambert doesn’t object when I browbeat Karen this afternoon. I’m really going to enjoy making her squirm, and I can’t wait to start twisting that left arm and leg in our next therapy session. I heard about the Nazi the school used to have for PT. I’ll be more subtle, but I’ll destroy that child one way or the other.”

Both women finished coloring their lips the red of fresh blood. They put the lipsticks back into their bags, then puckered their mouths and leaned forward to inspect them, looking as if they were going to kiss themselves in the mirror, or suck blood from a victim. Their heels clicked across the room’s hard floor. The door opened and closed with a sigh. Karen’s eyes filled with tears of silent rage.

Shush, Kitten, steady! So that’s what Mrs. Pinzetti meant when she said they were running out of children who needed surgery from Dr. Lambert. She meant they were coming after me.

The Healing Horse, Ch. 23, Scene 15: Reflection on Clinic

Karen has a moment to reflect and gather her courage. Notice how positively she speaks to herself. Even though she has just been brutalized by the experts and reduced to tears, she never lets their criticism turn into self-criticism. She is her own friend, and she knows who her enemies are. Stay tuned for the next scene, when she discovers how bad things can get, if she does not fight back.

(Image courtesy of Sam Killermann, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 15: Reflection on Clinic

The ladies’ room was always quiet and stuffy. A faint odor of urine permeated it. Karen knew it was for adults, and she was not supposed to be in it, but she needed some quiet. The little girls’ toilet was always noisy. It would not help her now.

She locked herself behind the gray, steel door of the stall farthest from the door and sat on the toilet, where she could think and calm herself. She was dazed, her nervous system in shock. She tried to retreat into her imagination by visualizing herself outside, walking on the lawn, at peace and safe from the wrath of the experts. But, her imagination brought her back to the clinic room. The doctors stared at her like robots, their cold, icy, empty looks chilling heart. She did not want to endure those looks again, but she had no choice. She had to withstand them.

The adults in her life, except for Mama and Pegasus, thought they had all the answers. They were the experts, she was only the patient, and Mama was only the parent. They did not want to help her fulfill her potential. They wanted to make her fit their preconceived ideas. They cared more about proving their theories and enhancing their incomes than they did about her and the other students.

She was not going to allow the experts to put her more on the defensive. She was not going to play their psychological games. She was not going to get upset again. She had a destiny better than their clinical definitions could ever describe. Every meeting with them made her stronger.

She was not going to give them power over her. She was in command of her life and her destiny. This was a big problem for the white coats. They had not dealt with a handicapped person like her before. They had not dealt with a girl who knew their tricks, their schemes, and their ability to manipulate their patients.

They are cold, callous, and calculating. Don’t they know I’m a human being? They don’t ask me what I want or what I need. They are so wrapped up in their own power, they don’t even know I have wants and needs. If only they could use their intelligence and education to help me as an individual, instead of using their power to label and pigeonhole me. And, after lunch will come all the stupid questions as they try to label me retarded. Please, someone save me from their ignorance!

The Healing Horse, Ch. 23, Scene 14: Outside the PT Room

After the blow up during clinic, Mama and Karen take a moment to fend of the evil Mrs. Pinzetti and regroup.

drawing of sad face with a drop of sweat

(Image courtesy of Vincent Le Moign, CC BY 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 14: Outside the PT Room

As Karen followed Mama down the hallway, she heard Mrs. Pinzetti cough and call out, “Mrs. Hershstein, please come back with me!”

Mrs. Pinzetti reached over her, again, and held onto Mama’s arm. Her face was pale and covered with a light sweat. Mrs. DeLuca stood behind her.

“I need your cooperation. I need you and Karen to come back. I know things have not gone well, but we need to work on this together.”

Mama calmly replied, “We are well aware of that, and we will be back, but now we all need a break for lunch. Care to join us?”

“I’m not allowed,” Mrs. Pinzetti mumbled. “I’m supposed to eat with the others in the PT room.”

“Suit yourself,” Mama said. “We are going to the cafetorium, where we can eat with the children.”

Karen watched as Mrs. DeLuca followed Mrs. Pinzetti back into the PT room and closed the door behind them.

“See, Kitten,” Mama said, as she frowned at the closed door. “Mama’s on your side. She intercedes for you. You watch how I handle things, and you’ll learn to advocate for yourself. Then you can teach others to advocate for themselves. When you deal with these experts, you have to remember that sometimes people let their education and authority get in the way of doing what’s right. They’re human beings with feelings, just like you and me, but the educational system has taught them to detach themselves from their feelings and to impose their will on the people they are supposed to serve. And it’s teaching the same thing to the young ones coming into the field.”

Karen knew Mama was right. Mrs. Pinzetti was teaching Mrs. DeLuca to hurt handicapped people, just like Mama was teaching her to be an advocate for them.

“Mama?” Karen said. “I think I need to go to the ladies’ room, so I can have a quiet place to center myself. Could you please get me something to eat? I’ll catch up with you in the cafetorium. This whole morning is having a bad effect on my nervous system.”

The Healing Horse, Ch. 23, Scene 13: Mama Intervenes

Mama arrives in the nick of time. She tells off evil Dr. Lambert and shames him in front of his colleagues. photograph of graffiti reading shame

(Image courtesy of Anthony Easton/flickr: PinkMoose, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 13: Mama Intervenes

As Karen stepped through the curtain to face the experts,

Mama pushed open the door of the physical therapy room.

“Mama! Mama! Thank God you’re here,” Karen cried, as she darted past the doctors and into her Mama’s protective arms.

“It’s all right, Kitten. I had a feeling I should be here after all.” Mama replied. Her eyes were warm as Karen looked up into them, but her jaw was set and her mouth hard.

“Mrs. Hearshstein, how nice of you to come. We are almost done with the subject,” Dr. Lambert said.

“What do you mean? Subject? Of an experiment? My daughter is not the subject of anything! She is not the subject of your experiment. She is a human being! This is my daughter you are talking about. Look at her! You don’t have the right to frighten her like this, and unless I say so, you don’t have the right to touch her. I signed an authorization for you to perform a clinical review and evaluation without my being present. This did not include terrorizing her. My daughter is not for you to play Henry Higgins with! Every year, you recommend experimental surgery to even her hips, even though she walks better and better on her own, and even though you can’t offer any guarantee that the surgery will help her and not leave her completely crippled. Look what you did to that little boy you left with the dangling wrist! The one who died after the surgery!”

Mrs. Pinzetti turned pale. She coughed and cleared her throat, as she approached, smiling sweetly, putting her arms around Karen and her hands onto Mama’s shoulders.

“Mrs. Hearshstein, please calm down. We’re here to help your daughter, and I know you are too. But please calm down.”

Karen twisted her neck so she could see Mrs. Pinzetti. After watching her throw her coffee cup onto the hallway floor while talking about Tammy, Kitten had trouble believing how sweet Mrs. Pinzetti’s smile was. She looked up and caught Mama’s eye with a frown that told Mama not to believe any of this.

Mama took a deep breath. Her voice dropped an octave, and she replied, “Mrs. Pinzetti, I am here for the same reason you are, to help my daughter. I can sense that the room is close to exploding with tension, and I am here to defuse it before it destroys my Karen. I’m not going to let you constrain my daughter’s potential so she can fit into your preconceived ideas of what she can do with her life. Karen is not only going to throw away her leg brace, soon. She is going to accomplish more than you and all the other experts gathered here can imagine.”

Mama shrugged the fake friendly hands off her shoulders and looked straight at Dr. Lambert. Her voice grew higher and louder than before. Karen knew she meant business.

“My Karen is a beautiful little girl who happens to have cerebral palsy. We are dealing with a human life here, not a puppet! She has her whole life ahead of her. If you were in my shoes, would you trust your doctor who wants to cut up your child’s body for no apparent reason but to make money? She’s the one who has to live with whatever treatment she gets. Once the cuts and scars are there, they are there for life! What are the risks involved? If this doesn’t work, how much is Karen going to suffer? You know it is going to affect her emotionally, physically, and mentally. Are you going to be the one to prepare her for this? Are you going to sit her down, wipe away the tears, and tell her everything will be just fine? Are you going to be the one holding her at night, when the pain gets so bad she can’t stand it? Are you going to take responsibility if this doesn’t work? Or will Karen have to pay the price of your arrogance all her life? You make this process seem so easy and so routine like you’ve done it a million times. Tell me, how many times have you actually performed these procedures? Is my daughter going to be your guinea pig? You want to make decisions for Karen, but you’re not going to be walking around with scars on your body. You’re not risking a dangling wrist or permanently damaged hips and spine. She will have to suffer the consequences of your decisions, and I am not going to let you make bad ones for her.”

Looking at the wall clock, she added, “It’s past noon. We all need a break and some lunch, doctor. I’m taking Karen to the school cafetorium. Would anyone like to join us? We would be delighted to have your company.”

Neither Dr. Lambert nor any of the others replied.

“Never mind, then,” Mama concluded. “If you need us, you will know where to find us. We will return at one.”

The Healing Horse, Ch. 23, Scene 12: Meanwhile, at Mama’s Work

The story jumps from the evil experts in Karen’s school to Mama at work. She hears her daughter’s plea photo of clayton moore as the lone ranger atop his horse silver

photo of clayton moore as the lone ranger atop his horse silver

and races to the rescue like the Lone Ranger.

(Image courtesy of ABC Television, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 12: Meanwhile, at Mama’s Work

Meanwhile, Mama sat at her desk at work, typing a brief for her attorney boss. As her fingers pecked the typewriter keys, she repeated to herself, “Karen can handle the clinic and eval on her own. She’s a big girl now. Karen can handle it.”

But then she heard her daughter’s voice in the air, just as if she were in the room. “Oh, Mama, I need you here with me. I may be disabled, but I am not an animal on display. If they see me like an animal, then I will show them the Pegasus in me. I am not afraid, but I wish my Mama were here.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She gasped for air. “Sir,” she said to her boss, as she stood up. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked for time off, but I thought Karen could handle this by herself. She needs me now. Those experts don’t even recognize her as a human being. I have to go. I’m sorry.”

He looked up from his desk, and she realized he had no idea what she was talking about, except that her daughter needed her.

“Go,” he said with a nod.

“Okay. And I’ll get the brief typed this afternoon or tomorrow morning.”

The Healing Horse, Ch. 23., Scene 11: Regaining Herself

The examination ends, as little Karen retreats to the changing area, so she can pull herself together and put on her clothes. This symbolizes how she turns away from the evil experts, who see her as subhuman, and reclaims the identity she is creating for herself.

(Image courtesy of Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)

Scene 11: Regaining Herself

The room fell silent, as she walked behind the curtain. Once alone, in the changing area, her tears returned. Would one of the adults would come to comfort her? None did.

As she dressed, the experts murmured among themselves. There would be trouble, when she faced them.

She gasped and forced herself to stop crying, then wiped her face with the clean, white handkerchief that Mama said ladies always carry. There was no brush for her hair, so she ran her fingers through it, trying to smooth it down. The room did not have a mirror. The experts did not think a disabled child would care how she looked.