Far from All Else

by Tom Lally

  I shrugged. I clenched my jawbones and held my lower lip outward so I had an under-bite.

  “Drew, please talk to me,” Riley pleaded.

  “What do you want me to say?” I asked.

  “Anything, just give me something,” she said.

  “Just felt bad, I guess,” I said.

  “What happened that night? Why didn’t you call?” she asked.

  I sat on my stool, my hands holding my chin with my elbows placed on the table. I tried not to look at my sister. Instead, I found a spot on the table, possibly a coffee stain, and studied it. Riley then placed her hand on top of it.

  “Drew, please. You’re scaring us,” she said.

  “Us?” I asked.

  “Yes, your family, Me, Pierce, Dad, Brock…” she tried to continue.

  “Don’t tell me Dad cares about me. I got his fucking letter,” I snapped at her.

  “What letter?” Riley asked.

  “He didn’t tell you?” I asked.

  “Tell me what?” she asked.

  “He told me never to come back. He said I’m supposed to live with you when I get out of here. If I get out of here that is,” I said.

  Riley leaned back. Her facial expression told me that she was bewildered by the news. I think that she was even more crushed than I was.

  “How?” she stuttered, “When, when did you find this out?” she asked.

  “Yesterday when I was getting moved into the psychiatric wing,” I said.

  I didn’t like my father, but there is something about the personal hatred of my own kin that bothered me. I thought about my brother when he was my age. Only a sophomore, he managed to start the final six games for Boston College’s football team. My dad used to take me and my sister to some of the home games that were played on early Saturday afternoons. My dad was the loudest parent there, reminding every spectator that number 19 was his son, the great Pierce Thomas. I looked at Riley and thought of her. My dad was so proud to produce a model that he overlooked the other characteristics that made her Riley Thomas. It was her picture on magazine covers and billboards that made her important to him.

  “Don’t worry about him, Drew. You know you can stay with me and Brock,” she said.

  “I know, but still, it hurts when…” I tried to say, but this time, I wasn’t able to contain myself. I leaned my head on the table and covered it my hands. I could feel the other patients and their visitors looking at me. Riley ran around the table to my side. She patted my hair and rubbed my shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Drew, it’s okay,” she said.

  Riley seemed lost for words. I felt worse knowing I once again managed to hurt my sister. Her relationship with my father would be destroyed over this. My dad had never been cruel to any of my siblings, but Riley wasn’t like Pierce. She thought like our mother. Her gift didn’t lie within her beauty, but within her emotional intelligence. I never wanted to be the one to cripple her relationship with my father through my issues with him or his issues with me.

  “Drew, please look at me,” she said. “Please, Drew. Please.”

  I let my hands sink back to the table. I sniffled and rubbed my face with my forearms before I finally looked at her.

  “Dad never understood you and you know what? He doesn’t deserve to. You do what you have to do in there and when you’re ready, you can live with me and Brock,” Riley said.

  “You want to ask Brock first?” I asked.

  “He’ll understand. I asked him if I could come alone today. He understands,” she said.

  I wanted to question her. The way I turned out forced me to question everything. The only pictures flashing through my head were Riley and Brock fighting about how they wanted to get married and start a family, not raise the family black sheep who they’d have to explain to their biological children.

  “I don’t want to be a burden,” I said.

  “Drew, you’re never a burden. You’re family,” Riley said.

  “I’m a time bomb,” I said.

  “Don’t think about everyone else,” Riley said, “Think about you. You need to help yourself. Brock, Pierce, me, Dad, whoever, it doesn’t matter. All that matters right now is how you’re feeling. Brock and I will be here every step of the way.”

  I smiled at her, silently wondering how she could be so kind. I was lucky to have her by my side, but I felt I didn’t deserve it.

  “Sorry about ruining your shoot,” I said.

  “Don’t be. It’s just a job,” Riley said.

  Anger in my stomach brewed as I realized my attempt at eluding my inner problems only exacerbated them. I was the reason Riley had to give up her upcoming job and lose payment as well.

  “No! No!” I said and slammed my hands against the table. The vibrations hurt my wrists and I squealed in agony. I felt Riley grab my arms by their skinny biceps.

  “Drew, stop, stop, please,” she begged.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “Don’t apologize,” she said.

  “I ruined it. I know how bad you wanted that,” I said.

  “Drew, I will never put work over family,” she said. “You are more important than getting photographed.”

  “Did you tell them what happened?” I asked.

  “No, I called my agent and told them I had a family emergency, but I didn’t go into specifics. I didn’t know if you wanted anyone to know,” she said.

  I sulked with my head staring into my lap. I almost didn’t know how to react anymore. Feeling this way had become commonplace and I felt I had extinguished every expression of emotional turmoil.

  “Tell them,” I said.

  “But, Drew…” she said.

  “Please, tell them. Don’t hide this if it affects your career,” I said.

  “Drew, it won’t affect…” Riley tried to say, but I cut her off again.

  “It’s not an excuse. It’s the truth. Don’t keep my secrets if it affects you,” I said. “Please don’t do that.”

  Riley sat back in her chair. The sadness seemed to recede and the gaze on her face became something different, like she was looking at our mother.

  “You are a good soul, Drew,” she said as she leaned over me and kissed me on the top of my head. “You are truly unlike the rest of us.”

  “I know,” I said. “Most of us aren’t locked in psychiatric wards.”

  I perked my head towards her slightly, exhibiting a crooked grin with only my lips. Riley saw me and laughed. We embraced for a while, though there wasn’t a doubt in either of our minds that it might be too long. It simply was and that made it better.

  “Drew, please promise me you are going to try and get better,” she said.

  I thought for a few seconds before answering.

  “I don’t know if I can promise that,” I said.

  “You have to promise me,” Riley said seriously. “I know you might not see it, but I do. I cannot lose you. You’re unique, not broken.”

  “I feel broken,” I said.

  “So try to fix yourself,” she said.

  “How?” I asked quickly. “Someone please explain this remedy that is so goddamn easy.”

  “By promising me,” she said. “You’re worried about hurting others, well, the more you hurt yourself the more pain we, me and you, are going to experience. So promise me.”

  I turned my body so that I was looking directly into her light blue eyes. They let my mind wander, but never allowed me to escape the harshness of reality. I thought about what she said and hated her for it initially. She’d given me a reason to live.

  “I promise,” I said.

  Chapter 9

  Natalie took me back upstairs after an hour or so in the visiting room. Riley found it hard to say goodbye, but I reassured her that I would keep my promise. That silenced her worries though it percolated mine. While Natalie followed behind me as I walked up the stairs, passed the flickering lights and cracked cement, I could only think about two words I said to my sister.

  �
��I promise,” I said quietly to myself.

  I could see my sister’s face cropped in permanent resolution that this was the only way she felt I could get better. I grew angry and felt she was being selfish, using her relationship with me as an antidote to suicidal ideations and crippling anxiety, then I realized I was behaving like a child internally. We reached the door to the second floor and I heard chaos echoing through the hallways of the wing. Someone was crying and others were yelling at each other. My feet momentarily stopped and Natalie accidentally walked into me. I guessed she had been pre-occupied by making sure I didn’t try to nosedive to the ground below.

  “Are you alright?” she asked.

  I didn’t respond before she quickly perked her ears to the bedlam ensuing in the following room. She peered through the small window located at eye level on the door.

  “Jared is at it again, I think. I can’t really see too well,” she said.

  “Fighting?” I asked.

  “No. He’s just going on another one of his rants,” Natalie opened the door and said simultaneously. “It’s fine. He does this sometimes.”

  For some reason, I didn’t believe her. I thought her composure was something learned, not natural. Learned through years of experience and work at state hospitals before people started to find electrocuting a person’s temples for being a ‘nuisance’ morally wrong. I didn’t have a choice though. There wasn’t a second door or even an air vent to crawl through. Natalie’s presence forced her words to be a command, despite the lack of authority in her voice.

  We entered the corridor and looked down the long hallway where I could see Jared standing on the couch in the common room. Someone was crying, maybe even two people were, but the sounds cluttered together like freight yard racket only told me that I shouldn’t have walked through that door. I stopped dead in my tracks again.

  “Drew, you’ll be okay,” she said from behind me.

  I took one deep breath and nearly toppled over during my first step. I’d forgotten how to walk amidst the commotion. The toes of my moccasins kept hitting the floor first, sending my body weight forward before I could catch myself with the toe of my other shoe. I decided simply to take short steps, barely lifting my feet from the ground.

  “Newbie,” I heard Jared say.

  I looked up from the floor and saw his evil eyes looking into mine.

  “Yeah, you,” Jared said. “Motherfucka’ told me he don’t want to play no cards.”

  The louder he got, the worse his speech became. I saw Dr. Phillips standing in the common room behind the couch Jared was using as a podium.

  “Where’s Harlan at?” he yelled as he scanned the crowd and found Harlan poking his head out from his room.

  “Ain’t gonna play cards today, huh? How ’bout tomorrow? You gonna come to your senses, cause the rest of these jokers ain’t playing now neither,” Jared said.

  Harlan looked at him bleakly before closing his door. Jared grew more agitated. He jumped off the couch and started to walk to Harlan’s door.

  “What’re you gonna do, Jared?” Dr. Phillips asked.

  “Whatever I want,” he said as he tried to walk past her.

  “You gonna yell at him some more?” she asked.

  “Get outta my way,” Jared said.

  He lifted his hand to intimidate the smaller Dr. Phillips, but she didn’t move. I didn’t even see her blink. Her hands remained firmly gripping her hips.

  “You touch me and there’ll be consequences,” she said.

  “Whatchu gonna do?” he asked.

  “Have it your way,” she said. “Alright then, to the yellow room.”

  Dougie and Lucky both appeared next to Jared. They’d been standing in the common room, but my view was blocked by the walls of the ward and the other patients who cowered similarly to myself. Dr. Phillips stepped away from Jared while a nurse I’d never seen before wheeled a gurney with unbelted restraints clinking against the rails. All three of them wore small masks over their mouths and noses, blue scrubs over their bodies, and rubber gloves.

  “Don’t touch me,” Jared said.

  He lifted his fists as the two men approached. Dougie and Lucky surrounded him near the wall. Dougie lunged first, grabbing Jared by the arm. Lucky quickly grabbed the other. Jared tried to fling them off, swinging his body violently. Both men held their grip tightly as the veins in Jared’s neck grew more noticeable with every grunt he made. The unknown nurse guided the gurney closer to them while a trio of other nurses whom I’d also never seen before, all dressed in their protection outfits, appeared. They all grabbed a separate part of Jared while Dougie and Lucky took either halves of his body. They managed to lift him onto the gurney and wrap the restraints around his arms and legs. His squirming rattled the metal rails viciously.

  “I have the needle,” one of the nurses said as she walked around her coworkers who continued to hold Jared’s extremities.

  “Got him?” the nurse asked once she stood next to his shoulder.

  “Yeah, we’re good,” Dougie said for everyone.

  The nurse swiped a small patch across Jared’s arm, coloring the small area of skin red.

  “Don’t put that in my fuckin’ arm,” Jared yelled as the nurse bent down.

  She guided the syringe into his arm before announcing, “Shot’s in.”

  His movements ceased after a few seconds and the nurses each released him. Some of them pulled their mask straps from behind their ears as they stepped away from the gurney while Lucky and Dougie started to wheel it down the hall. Harlan had re-opened his door and was leaning against the frame. I walked over to him while Natalie went to Dougie and Lucky’s side.

  “That ever happen before?” I asked him.

  “Yeah, occasionally. He loses it sometimes when he feels he isn’t being worshipped,” Harlan said.

  “What is the yellow room?” I asked.

  “It’s a room down the hall covered in yellow padding. The walls, the ceiling, the door, even the floor is covered in yellow cushions. They put people in there sometimes when they’re hurting themselves or going to hurt somebody else,” Harlan said.

  He looked at the other patients in the ward who were having difficulty returning to their prior activity and then darted his eyes to Jared being wheeled away. Someone turned on the television while Dr. Phillips sat with a patient who’d been crying.

  “Is he okay?” I asked Harlan and pointed at the man sitting with Dr. Phillips.

  “Sammy? Yeah, he’s okay. He’s a good guy, but he’s fragile. Jared freaks him out sometimes and he needs to be calmed down,” he said.

  “When is he gonna get back?” I asked.

  “Who? Jared? A few hours probably,” he said. “How was your visitor? If you don’t mind me asking?”

  “It was good,” I said.

  “Who was it?” he asked.

  “My sister,” I said.

  “How is she taking this?” he asked.

  “Like a tornado in Manhattan. She’s worried, but she’s keeping it together, at least she seems like she is,” I said.

  “People shouldn’t be un-phased by something like this,” Harlan said. “Those that don’t are people who deserve to be in here more than us.”

  “I think I know a few of those people,” I said.

  “I bet I know a few more,” Harlan said.

  “Okay, everyone, group time,” Dr. Phillips said to all of the patients.

  Harlan and I walked into the common room where Dr. Phillips stood in the center. She turned chairs around and placed them in a circle.

  “Everyone take a seat please. Sorry about that, but everything is okay now,” she said.

  Dr. Phillips smiled at each one of us as we walked to our chairs. Maybe two people returned their smiles to her, the rest of us kept our faces flat and emotionless or just stared at the floor to avoid eye contact with anyone else. I counted fifteen patients sitting in the circle. The gothic girls sat next to one another. Harlan and I sat next to one ano
ther while Sammy walked over to Harlan and sat next to him.

  “Sammy, this is Drew,” Harlan said.

  “Hello,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

  I extended my hand across Harlan’s lap space.

  “Th-the pl-pl-plea-pleasure is mi-mi-mi-ne. I’m-I’m-I’m Sammy. It’s gre-gre-great to me-me-meet you,” he said nervously.

  His hand grasped mine, but our handshake was agitated by a tremor running down Sammy’s arm.

  “You too,” I said.

  Dr. Phillips sat at the head of the circle. She faced everyone with her back to the hallway. I saw Dougie and Lucky wheeling back the empty gurney along with Natalie who walked with her arms folded by their side. They all walked past the common room and rolled the stretcher into a closet in the hallway.

  “Drew,” I heard someone say.

  “Yes,” I turned my head quickly.

  “Over here,” Dr. Phillips said with a chuckle.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “It’s fine. Now I would like you to introduce yourself to the others if you haven’t already done so,” she said.

  I looked around at the room. Heads were strangely incoherent in their mannerisms. A few people looked at me, but I tried to avoid eye contact with them for longer than a second. Some stared at the ground or rattled their heads like a lantern swaying in someone’s hand.

  “It’s okay, Drew, stand up,” Dr. Phillips said.

  And so I did. It wasn’t graceful. It was robotic.

  “Uh, hello. My name is Drew Thomas. Nice to meet everyone,” I said.

  A few people waved, the rest sat motionless and silent.

  “Everyone say hello to Drew. It’s his first day of group therapy,” Dr. Phillips said.

  They all complied though most didn’t make eye contact. The united ‘hello’ sounded like gibberish with a few patients entering once the rest had finished. I sat down again.

  “We are happy to have you,” Dr. Phillips said. “I’m going to read the groups for today.”

  Everyone sat around half listening except for me. I was nervous about what group therapy might entail. I’d seen movies and shows where there is a talent show or you have to spill your guts to people you’ve never met before. I didn’t think that I could take that, not then at least.