She woke up to find herself in space. She did not know how she came about to be there.
Of course, she wouldn’t know! You see she had lost her memory.
pls answer as it is a story writting
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Answer:
Evelyn hadn’t wanted to visit Helene. The women were no longer related, and it had been years since there was a reason for the performance of friendship and mutuality that had once existed between them. In this way, Tom and Ruth’s divorce had come as a relief. But there was shame, too, for Evelyn, an inner collapse when she admitted to herself that she had lived 22 years of her life with that woman shadowing her every thought and decision. Twenty-two years! To think that this could count as one of her most enduring relationships; neither of her marriages had lasted close to that long. And then, with one phone call—Mom, Tom and I have decided to split—the years of clench-jawed diplomacy with Helene simply vanished, as if they had never happened.
Afterward, Evelyn took a small pleasure in ignoring Helene’s friends when she ran into them at the market or the nail salon, feeling absolutely no compunction to make nice, aware that these well-dressed busybodies would report back to Helene about Evelyn’s insistence on keeping her figure when the rest of them had settled into their battle-ready girths. But the truth was, Evelyn hadn’t been released from the woman at all. She avoided Weybridge Road on the off chance that Helene might be looking out her window at the exact moment Evelyn’s Buick passed and might think that, like a spurned lover, Evelyn was stalking her. When she dressed in the morning, she imagined Helene’s silent disapproval of a tight skirt or her bare legs. Evelyn had lately begun to spend her winters in Florida, which turned out to be a freedom, not only from the cold and heavy-lidded Ohio skies, but from the disapproving weather of that woman. But this business with Helene stashed away at Willowdale—well, it wasn’t right.
Ruth, with dispassionate pragmatism—the effect, Evelyn supposed, of having been robbed of a father, a husband, and a daughter in one lifetime—said there wasn’t any point to visiting. “She doesn’t even recognize Tom anymore,” she’d explained when she called from New York. It was February then, and Evelyn was midway through her stay on Sanibel Island. Though it had been unsettling to know that Helene had taken such a bad turn that she could no longer be cared for in her home, it wasn’t until Evelyn returned to Cleveland in early May that the information truly sank in. The familiarity of her apartment on Van Aken was disheartening. Every piece of furniture, every picture on the wall, seemed to have been frozen during her absence, the three small rooms poorer for their attentive waiting. Evelyn felt stranded, and then she thought about Helene in Willowdale.
You shouldn’t bother yourself, Mom” was what Ruth had said.
How many years had Evelyn been bothered on Helene’s account, arriving at her dinner parties an hour early to listen to her fuss over whether her housekeeper, Erna, would ruin the roast? How many times had she praised that overcooked and pretentious meat? Even in the ’70s, when people were lining up for gasoline and reacquainting themselves with liver and onions, Helene insisted on those charred hunks of beef encircled with puckered and feeble-looking potatoes that reminded Evelyn of the pearl chokers Helene wore so tightly, they pinched the loose skin at her neck. How many hours had she spent consoling Helene after the divorce—Helene, who behaved as if it were she who had been betrayed, even though it was Ruth who had suffered Tom’s many affairs? How often had she kept her mouth shut while she endured the insinuation that Francie’s troubles, first her irritableness, then the drugs, came from Evelyn’s side of the family, because Ruth’s father had drunk his way to a fatal car crash? It was awful to admit, but a few years earlier, when she’d first heard of Helene’s incipient dementia, she experienced—what was that German word? Even thinking of a German word she couldn’t remember gave her a little nip of glee, Helene having banned all things German from her life. The woman wouldn’t sit in a Volkswagen, for God’s sake. Of course, there was a time when Evelyn felt the same; most Jews she knew did. But you couldn’t hold it against the new generation. No one chooses whom they are born to.
She won’t know who you are, and one minute after you leave, she won’t remember you were there,” Ruth said, and at that precise moment, Evelyn knew what she would do.
Explanation:
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