Yvonne At The Toll Booth

***Content Warning. This story does contain violence and may not be suitable for all readers.***

An array of lights pierced my vision and paralyzed my movement. I just kept staring into the abyss of blue and white flashes. I heard voices around me, and faces would come into view. I could not move, but I did feel the moisture from the coins still in my hand. Ready as I was to make change for the next customer. Screams penetrated through my ears as someone was yelling, “She opened her eyes, let’s get her out of here.” Loud bangs, faces speaking in front of me as though I could answer. All I could do was see the glare that was blinding my eyes. Then as quickly as chatter and lights came into my view, there was nothing. I could only feel my breath and nothing else. Silence and darkness.

The day began as any other. I woke a little after ten in the morning. I showered, dressed, smoked a joint and fed my cat, Lucy. I was living with my mom, well, was living with my mom who had recently moved to Florida with her boyfriend. She told me I was going to need to find a place by the end of next month to rent. She kept telling me, “It's time!”

My only response would be, “Time for what?” which ultimately led to the same argument.

“Time for you to grow up Yvonne! Time for you to move out and be on your own!” Always her next line.

“Really like how? You know I barely get by with what I make working the tolls now.” I was so not well thought out in my answers.

The roll of her eyes and deep sigh would follow unless we got into a screaming match.

Truth of the matter was I knew she was right, but I had no plan to move forward. It was just easier to continue as though she really was not leaving. She told me I was depressed and after one of these shouting matches, she insisted I go to counseling which is where I went that morning. I bought a coffee on the way and sat in the waiting room of Daphne Michaelson’s office. She was Licensed Independent Clinical Social Worker as she proudly displayed her degrees and awards in picture frames around the room. My mother found her and said she came highly recommended. She was kind of a bitch to me, but probably the kind of therapist I needed. She didn’t seem to care what I thought of her and still kept prying about my life and why at age thirty-four I was still living at home with my mother. I told her off more than once and said I was not coming back and then I showed up the following week. She just kept my time open.

That morning I was earlier than my usual early. I sat in her waiting room for 20 minutes really taking in the scene. I was staring at a print of the painting over the fake fireplace which faced me. It was called Christina’s World, by Andrew Wyeth. I have seen the work in many mockery forms before, but the real painting did have some power to it. It showed a woman lying in field looking up to house in the distance. Her back is towards the audience. She is alone. I started to wonder what it was about when Daphne interrupted my thoughts.

“Do you think she is trying to leave or is she trying to go home?” She looked at me moving her glasses up and down her nose like a professor as she turned her gaze to the painting.

“I think she is content. She is in the sun. She is happy where she is,” I smirked. “What is your expert opinion?”

“The painting goes with the curtains and that is why it hangs there.” She smiled as she moved her arm to the side in a slight wave to usher me into her office.

The session went like the other nine times I had been in her office over the last several months. I gave her yeah and no answers hoping to get through. Then all of sudden fifteen minutes before we were supposed to end, she announces “Yvonne this will be our last session. I have done my best, but I don’t feel we are moving forward to any resolutions. It is my opinion that clinically you are not necessarily depressed but suffer from anxiety about moving forward with any kind of change in life. Time does not stand still. Change is going to happen in life whether we want it to or not. You don’t want to move forward. I would try to continue to work with you on managing your anxiety, but ultimately, I don’t think it is something you want to do.

“Is this because my job is ending and there won’t be insurance to cover the visits after next month.” I cleverly blurted out, taking a sip of my coffee.

“Well, there is that. Yeah, you got me!" she grinned. "However, if you were willing to start dealing with your anxiety about change, I would charge a reduced rate on a private pay basis. The truth of the matter Yvonne is that after next month your job at the toll booth will end and your mother has said she is not renewing the lease on the apartment. You have known about both for several months now and you don’t want to do anything to help yourself. Have you even applied for any employment?”

I rolled my eyes and coyly replied, “I could do your job! Listen to people bitch all day! Anyone could do that!” I really thought I was so witty.

“Yvonne, you have made that statement several times. You know what, you probably could do my job. You do, however, have to work for it. How about going back to school for about seven years towards your undergraduate and graduate degrees at college. Then a couple of years of internships, then licensure testing and then every year more school to keep your licensure. There is financial aid, but probably student loan debt like I have. You'll pay off easy enough after you've listened to a few people," she smiled, "bitch all day." She pulled a card out and handed it to me, "Here is the admissions coordinator at my alma mater. Give them a call when you are ready, okay!" I took the card and turned to leave without a wave.

As I reached the door. She continued, “Yvonne, your mom says your sister will take you in if you will baby sit her kids and as long as you have a plan to get a job. My advice is you should take her up on it.”

Another roll of my eyes as I thought about my sister, Monica and her bratty kids who needed constant attention. I walked out of the office and headed to work.

When I got to my booth that afternoon as I was working the second shift, I looked for Hayden, who usually worked in the lane next to me. He was still in his twenties, but we had a connection. He started working at the tolls a few years after me. Most nights as we sat next to each other we sent hand signals for how the night was going. He lived with his mom too. He had a kid and tried to keep up with child support. The tolls used to be a great job. I started out pretty happy to have this job. The benefits started dwindling away as the automatic sensors came out. Now we only get sporadic customers to the cash lane where I sit every night waiting for the next car to come through or a wave from Hayden. A few months ago, we all got notice that all the lanes would automatic, and the cash tolls would no longer exist.

I can’t say I was surprised. I knew it was coming, but I just didn’t have a plan. That was probably why I didn’t like Daphne she was always talking directly and would not listen to my excuses.

Hayden seemed at first to take the layoffs in stride. However, I did notice in the last week he started acting a bit off. He was very concerned about Mr Hoffman’s schedule and routine. Mr Hoffman was our manager. He apparently was not losing his job and in fact was receiving some sort of promotion with the transit office when the cash tolls were officially closed as word had it that it was his idea the tolls were no longer needed.

I looked for Hayden but did not see him, so I went to my booth and started making change. It was actually busy for a weekday night. Dollars passed to me as I put coins back into each customer hand who drove through. As the night went on, I looked over to Hayden’s booth. I caught a glimpse of him, and he looked back at me without even a smile. He was acting very odd.

I went back to my customers and counting coins. I had just finished making change for a guy who gave me a twenty for a .75 cent toll when Mr Hoffman came flying across the highway and banged on my booth to let him in. I opened the door. At this time the roads had cleared and there was not a car in sight. Mr Hoffman was red faced and sweating,

“Yvonne, you have to help me! Hayden is after me, he has a gun! He blames me for ruining his life! Please don’t let him know I am here. I have a wife and kids!” he pushed into the back. I then turned to see Hayden coming right towards my booth with a gun pointed.

“Yvonne is he in there? Yvonne, send him out here! He has messed with our lives!” I have no way to pay for my kid!” his eyes were bulging and staring right at me.

I opened my window and calmly told him I would be out, and we could talk.

He nodded as tears came down his face. I walked out of the booth and over to him. I heard sirens going off in the distance.

“Hayden, this isn’t the end. This is a toll booth job for God’s sake. We both can get other jobs. It is not worth your life or Mr Hoffman’s life even if he is a prick. “I looked at him as tears continued to flow down his cheeks.

“Hayden put the gun down. Don’t do this. You have so much to offer.” I watched him shiver and his head nod. I heard the police pull up behind us. I thought I caught their attention to say it was okay, but soon realized I was wrong as one officer held his gun out. Hayden turned towards them with the gun still in his hand. I screamed and ran in front of him. The officer fired and I went down!

I felt the piercing of the bullet enter my chest. Daphne’s words came back to me. “Time does not stand still." My cat, my mom, Monica, her kids all flashed before me. I also thought, Hayden was listening to me. Maybe I could help people. I felt people pushing on my chest, the yelling, the lights, then the darkness.

I woke in the hospital bed three days later. My mother flew back from Florida. Hayden was arrested, but alive. Mr Hoffman was not injured. I had to work to get my life back. Rehabilitation and more therapy. This time Daphne was more emphatic, and I started to acknowledge that I was going to work on my future. I also decided to participate in my counseling sessions to manage my anxiety about change. Turns out there was a path forward and the sessions weren't a waste of time.

I decided to move in with my sister and became a better aunt to my niece and nephew. I called the admission counselor that Daphne gave me and have started taking classes.

A few days after I was accepted to the social work program, I received a package from Daphne. It was copy of Christina’s World print with a note that stated, “for your office someday, I like to sit and stare at it as well, to cope with my anxiety, as she is content.”