Chapter 7: The revelation
Hailey's anxiety and stress rise just before her world changes forever
This is chapter 7 of The Other Side of the Ocean. You can also start at chapter 1, go back to chapter 6, continue to chapter 8, or access any chapter using the table of contents.
There’s a reason why the Future is Bright party is being held this Friday—it’s also the last day for students to accept offers from postsecondary institutions. Technically, students have until midnight to accept, but most students will have accepted by the time the party starts at seven pm, and so most students can spend the evening relaxing and having fun with their friends, instead of worrying about the future.
Most students—not me.
I realize that I am literally sweating as I walk down the street towards home, at a complete loss as I try, again and again, to confidently choose where I’m going to go next year, and what I’m going to do. It almost doesn’t surprise me at all when the sound of traffic two streets over is replaced by the rhythm of my heart, beating louder than background music in a movie designed to incite fear in the audience.
I stop, drop my bag, and put my hand against a tree, staring down at the struggling green and yellow grass as I close my eyes and take deep breaths, my confidence building as I realize I haven’t had a heart rate episode in days—not since I decided to look into Dad’s past on my own—and I’m overcoming this right now by myself.
You got this, I think to myself. I ball my hands into fists as I take a deep, unhindered breath, back to normal. Out loud: “I got this.”
And by “this”, I do not mean the whole pick-a-path for the future thing. As I walk up the empty driveway, noting Mom and Dad are out, I know what I’ve got to do.
I lock the front door behind me and head up the stairs. I don’t have answers for the future, but I have so many questions about the past. They’re all I’ve been able to think about since reading Mom’s journal entry and opening up to Almira. Neither one of us can figure it out.
Why did Mom tell Dad she couldn’t go with him even if they did fall in love, which they clearly did? And why did she write that she felt “joy in my heart” when she said that to him?
When I enter their room, I stop. These questions have been running marathons in my mind for days, but my feelings have been swirling around right alongside them, too. I don’t feel right not telling Mom and Dad I read the letter, or that I went through their stuff, but telling them doesn’t feel possible right now. And the truth, as sucky as it is, is that I can’t helping wanting to know more.
But I stop, hesitating before I head for Mom’s side of the room. I started all this to protect my health.
So that’s what I’m going to do.
I head to Dad’s side of the bed, accepting that I’m not going to get answers to the questions left with me from that journal, and already my chest feels lighter. It doesn’t feel as good as not having secrets—the one I’m keeping from my parents by searching, and the ones they’re keeping that I now want to learn more about—but sticking to the health aspect gives me a major sense of peace. I take an easy breath as I open one of the drawers in Dad’s nightstand, and start searching.
I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for, but I know it will be some piece of identification—something that has Dad’s last name on it. Not any of his current cards—those are in his wallet, so they wouldn’t be here, and they wouldn’t have Dad’s last name, the name he had before he married Mom.
The name that can tell me about his side of our family, and therefore give me a clue as to where to go to research our health history—that’s what the doctor sent me on this unwanted mission for, anyway. And it’s the only reason I agreed to do this without telling Mom and Dad—to protect my health, and their emotional well-being.
It’s seconds before I conclude there’s nothing here when my hand rubs against a smooth surface with grooves, and I stretch my fingers at the back of the messy bottom drawer.
I pull out Dad’s passport—his old passport—and my heart pumps a beat louder than usual, I swear. This could be the passport Dad had before his current one, when I was a baby, after he got married and changed his last name.
Or not.
It could be the passport he had when he came to Canada, when he didn’t know he was going to find Mom, his soul mate, and have me, his only child. Before he was going to choose to stay here in Canada, and not talk to his family again or even acknowledge they exist. Before he was going to leave his last name behind.
I open the passport, and I see Dad’s last name in front of me, but that’s not why I suddenly feel like everything is moving in slow motion in my peripheral vision.
The passport contains dates.
And something dawns on me. A tiny detail. A detail that didn’t seem very important at all when I read Mom’s journal entry.
I don’t remember putting the passport back, but I did. I don’t remember closing the drawer or leaving the room, or hearing Mom and Dad come home when they greet me in my room with smiles, asking if they can take pictures of me when I’m dressed up for the Future is Bright party.
I stare at my parents, but all I see is a messy swirl of colour as my vision swims in and out of the past and the present.
According to Mom’s journal entry, she met Dad in 2006. In September 2006.
When she was already pregnant with me.
Dear readers, thank you SO much for reading this section of The Other Side of the Ocean!
There are so many themes coming together for Hailey here—mental health, physical health, the choices we make and the choices we postpone making, family, friendship.
We all need to support our mental health
It’s important to ask ourselves and the people around us: how are you? How are you feeling? Do you want to talk?
We created this story to help encourage lifelong learning, but also to help raise awareness of the importance of mental health and addressing anxiety. High school students have so many decisions to make, and there is so much going on in the world outside of the classroom.
We all need to take care of our mental health, and there is support for you.
We encourage you to share with someone you feel comfortable sharing with, such as a loved one or a professional. We’ve included some resources below that we hope are helpful.
Check out mental health resources in your community. You could start with your school, workplace or local public health unit.
Look online for “mental health resources” in your country. For example, there are online resources for people in Canada, Australia and the United States.
Look for mental health resources online, such as this video: Mental Health Toolkit: Tools to Bolster Your Mood & Mental Health.
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We wish you well!
This is chapter 7 of The Other Side of the Ocean. You can also start at chapter 1, go back to chapter 6, continue to chapter 8, or access any chapter using the table of contents.