by ML Gardner
“They say it’s always the ones who act sane that are the most nuts.” He shook my hand briefly.
“Ask David,” I said with confidence and found my seat for breakfast.
She was late and that always made me nervous. I worried that the other one had come out, and they had sedated her. I replayed our evening together in my mind to pass the time. I sat with a crooked smile, lost in my daydream. I relived the kiss repeatedly in a continuous loop, could pull out every detail. Hands grabbed my shoulders and I looked up, stunned. Then I realized what they thought, and what they were doing. “No! I wasn’t having one!” I yelled up at the nurse and new orderly.
“The doctor says we’re to take him to treatment immediately when he has one of these delusional visions,” she told the orderly as she helped him drag me out of my chair. “The quicker we administer treatment, the better,” she said, grunting as I fought her.
“But I didn’t have one!” I screamed. “I was daydreaming, that’s all!”
She ignored me and blew the whistle for help.
Elizabeth stood looking scared in the doorway. I tried not to fight, for her sake, but I dreaded what I knew was coming. She covered her face with her hands while they pulled me past, still trying to convince them. I begged and pleaded until the white-hot pain shot through my head, and everything went dark.
It was late evening, and I woke with the usual headache and tingling legs. Something sat in the corner of the room. Even if my vision wasn’t blurry, it was too dark to make out what it was. It made no noise and stayed perfectly still, watching me.
“Simon.”
I sighed at the sound of her voice. “How did you get in here?” I asked, trying to get up on one elbow to see her.
“David,” she said as she let go of her legs and stood up. There was barely enough room for her to turn around to sit on the side of my bed. “My roommate,” she paused, looking at the door. “She hasn’t come back from the clinic yet, so Loretta propped pillows under my blankets, and David snuck me down here to wait for you to wake up.” She took my hand and held it tightly. “I just got here a few minutes ago.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said, meaning it. “But he’s going to get fired.” I meant that even more. “He’s taking too many chances.”
She ignored the warning and turned to lie down beside me, molding her body to the side of mine. “I wish I could take these treatments for you,” she said. “I’d take every single one of them.”
I could tell she was close to tears. I shook my head. “I’d never allow that.” I smiled and pulled her closer with what little strength my arms had. “Besides, after one you’d decide I wasn’t worth it. I’m not that great a kisser,” I teased.
“Yes, you are.” She put one hand on the side of my neck. Her head rested on my shoulder, and I could feel her smile. “We’re going to be free together one day. And the other night, we were free. Just for an hour, we weren’t here. You took me to a world all our own, and I still see it clearly every time I close my eyes.
“I do, too,” I said. I didn’t tell her that remembering our evening had led to this last debilitating treatment. “How long has it been?” I asked. My mind began to clear. I put my hand on my forehead, willing away the last of the headache.
“Three days,” she said and moved her hand to replace mine, pushing it out of the way; massaged my temple, forehead, and scalp. I closed my eyes, enjoying it.
“I have to go soon,” she said after a few minutes. “David has to get me back before the other orderly finishes dinner.” I nodded, hating the fact. She kept massaging my head, sending the softest shivers down my neck and shoulders.
David knocked so lightly we almost didn’t hear it. I opened my eyes, and more reluctantly, my arms, releasing her. She kissed me quickly and walked to the door without looking back.
David told me later that the other one came out, right after I left. He said it wasn’t pretty. The others were afraid of her now.
I was a few minutes late for breakfast, having nicked myself while shaving. I walked in slowly, taking stock of patients and staff. Only one nurse with her back turned. She was in deep conversation with Sobbing Susan.
I took the golden opportunity to put a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head as I passed.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Good morning.” She smiled and I noticed how alive her eyes were.
“You look beautiful today.” Noticing the nurse turn out of the corner of my eye, I looked down resentfully.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I looked past her at the other not so lively patrons and noticed that a lot of the excitable ones were present. They must be re-staffing quicker than I thought.
Great. A bunch of new, nervous orderlies means less freedom for me. For us, I thought. It had taken months to prove myself and get a little leeway and extra privileges.
“What’s the frown for?” she asked.
“Just thinking,” I said, stabbing at my congealed oatmeal. “I’ll just be glad to get out of here.”
“Have you seen when?” she whispered.
“Not really,” I frowned. I didn’t have time to tell her that I had seen frostbitten trees, light snow along the lake and a fireplace. Ronnie stole the show. I watched him look up, staring past the nurse’s shoulder and start whimpering. His imagination was in full swing, and he started babbling to the king he desperately feared. He threw his tray, and it flew by the nurse’s head, narrowly missing it.
“Just another day in the happy factory.”
She glanced at Ronnie and back at me. “I feel sorry for him,” she said. “All of them. They won’t get out of here, will they, Simon? Not like us.”
I shook my head without looking up. I knew what would happen to Ronnie, and I tried not to look at him.
The next day I had a meeting with the doctor. I hadn’t seen a treatment, but I hadn’t seen myself walk out either.
“How are you feeling, Simon?” he asked. The scratch of the pen tip on paper nearly drove me crazy enough to belong here.
“Fine.”
“You always say ‘fine’, Simon.”
“Because I am.”
“I heard from the nurse that you had a treatment last week, and for the first time in a long time, you fought it. You tried to deny having a vision and fought the nurses. That’s not like you, Simon.” He stared at me intently.
I met his gaze head on. “Because I didn’t have one that time,” I said, trying to relax my jaw.
“Really? The nurse said you did. You were staring off into space and didn’t answer to your name for three calls.” He sat back and crossed his legs.
“I was daydreaming, Doc. Have you ever heard of daydreaming? Even the sanest people do it.”
“Well, you have to understand, it’s hard for us to tell.”
“Apparently.”
“I wonder what we can do about that?” he asked almost mockingly.
“How about listening to me when I say I didn’t have one? You said yourself that I never fight it when I’ve had one. When I say I didn’t, I’m being honest.”
“But that would give you leave to lie to us, Simon. To avoid treatment. How would we know you weren’t lying?” I sighed in frustration. There was no right answer and I gave up. “What do you daydream about, Simon?”
My eyes flashed up, angry and defensive before I could mask them. No. You fucking bastard, you can’t have that. I looked down, stuffing my memories deep inside my safe and looked up, composed. It was too late. He already saw it. “Lots of things,” I said, thinking fast. “Vacationing on the beach, sailing and painting. Normal, sane things, Doc.”
He nodded and I tried in vain to read him.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with your new friend, would it?”
I felt a cold shiver and had the urge to jump up and hit him over the head with his paperweight. It took everything I had not to panic.
“Which friend would that
be, Doc? I’m pretty well-liked around here.”
“Elizabeth,” he said with a tiny twitch of his lips.
“No,” I said too quickly. “I’ve talked to her a few times. No more or less than any other patient.” My mind raced at who might have seen us, read between the lines and told the doctor. I looked up at him with calm eyes. I will kill you before I let you take her away from me, I thought. I took a slow even breath.
“Do you remember what I said about her, Simon?”
“Yes.”
“It might serve you well to keep that a little closer to the front of your mind. She was doing better for a while, but she’s had a setback recently. Ronnie said it was because of you. She was upset over you needing a treatment, and that tells me, Simon, that you are indeed friends. Good friends.”
My hands shook so I folded my arms to hide them. I tried to shrug causally, but the movement came off choppy. “No more than anyone else.”
Please God, Please let him believe me. Let him leave it alone, I prayed.
“Let’s just keep our minds on you getting better, shall we, Simon? There really is no room in your life for friends. Concentrate on getting better so you can leave one day,” he said, looking down and scribbling with the last few words.
“Getting out,” I repeated. “Sounds good, Doc.” I stood, anxious to leave his office.
“Yes, you can leave now, Simon.”
I kept myself up all night with worry that bordered paranoia. I filled spurts of fitful sleep with nightmares. Some I didn’t understand. But the ones that terrified me always involved Elizabeth being taken away from me. The others involved someone who had become a regular in my dreams. A woman who cried and painted. I couldn’t see what she painted past her blond hair, but her grief was so deep and poignant, I couldn’t help but wonder what her grief was for. The next morning was miserable.
I walked into breakfast looking a mess; bleary bloodshot eyes, hair sticking in every direction and I hadn’t bothered to shave. I didn’t acknowledge her, but sat across from Ronnie, it being the only open seat other than in front of her. I slumped in my chair, crossed my arms and waited for my food. I could feel her eyes on me, and it was so hard not to look over at her. I closed my eyes and looked at her in my mind. The nurse set my food in front of me with a metal plunk. I hovered over it, barely eating. I had no appetite. Ronnie made disgusting snorting noises as he ate. He looked up at me every few minutes and then nervously over at Elizabeth. I wish he’d stop doing that, I thought. It’s not fair that he gets to look at her and I don’t. He stared at me while he chewed his oatmeal with loud smacking sounds. I grimaced and kept my eyes on my food. I heard her cough once, then twice. I knew she was trying to get my attention, and I leaned my elbow on the table, put my hand on the back of my head and gripped the hair, forcing my head to stay in place. I had to put distance between us, which was the very last thing I could ever want. But I had to take some attention off us. I argued with myself at just how long that would take. A few days, a few weeks.
Christ, I can’t make it a few weeks without touching her, I thought with despair. Ronnie started making weird noises, and I looked up to see if he was choking. I turned, unable to help it, and saw her staring at me, a question in her eyes. I looked away quickly and decided to try to get a message to her through David later when he came on shift. Ronnie reached across the table and started pushing my tray closer to me until it was nearly dumped in my lap.
“What are you doing, you crazy bastard?” I asked, pushing it back with an irritated shove.
“I don’t want you here,” he answered. I had forgotten what his normal voice sounded like.
“Well, guess what, Ronnie, I don’t want to be here,” I said with a huff and loomed over my flavorless food. I wasn’t even sure why I had come here this morning. I should have faked sickness. But then she would worry. She’d think I’d gotten shocked again and she would worry. Or worse. I was distracted from my thoughts when Ronnie’s skinny arm tried to sneak across the table. It was ridiculous how he tried so hard to be covert, but I could see every move he made. He started pushing my tray again.
“Would you stop that?” I yelled. “Shit! Just leave me alone!” Two orderlies looked up. One started walking over towards us.
“You go sit with her,” he said and crossed his eyes and lolled his tongue in the best imitation a crazy person can make of another crazy person.
“Piss off,” I growled and shoved my tray back, slamming it into his. I shrugged off the indecisive orderly who tried to take my arm and stormed out of the room. I turned and looked back, right at the last second. Her eyes watched me, and I saw hurt and confusion in them.
I stopped at the nurses’ station on my way to my room.
“Can I have a piece of paper?” I asked impatiently. I didn’t look to see which nurse it was. It wasn’t David so it didn’t matter.
“What for?” she asked.
I looked at her then, fully irritated. “To make a paper airplane,” I said sarcastically. “I want to write a letter,” I added quickly, remembering that these people had no way of discerning sarcasm from truth.
“Be sure to let us read it before you send it,” she said.
“Can I have a pencil?” I asked. I ground my teeth.
She unlocked the desk drawer and dug around in it. “You’ll have to sit here and write it. I can’t let you wander around with a pencil.”
The complete and utter lack of privacy or freedom had taken its toll on me, and I grew dangerously close to exploding. I threw the paper back at her.
“Forget it,” I growled and turned toward my room.
After lunch, which I skipped, choosing hunger over heartache, I pulled David aside and explained what happened at my appointment the day before. Then I detailed my miserable Elizabeth-less day.
“I don’t know who could have said anything, Simon. I haven’t heard anyone say or suspect anything. They all know that you two are the sanest of the bunch, and they assume that’s why you sit together. But they don’t know about you.”
I nodded, reassured. “Can I get a piece of paper? I need to tell her why I’m doing this. I don’t want her to think…” I closed my eyes. “I need her to know I still feel the same way.”
“Not a problem,” David said. “I’ll give it to Loretta, and she can give it to Elizabeth.”
“Don’t let her keep it,” I said in panic. “They’ll find it.”
“Don’t worry, Simon, I’ll take care of it. It’ll go home with me and I’ll burn it, I promise.”
“Okay. Okay. Thank you,” I panted, feeling some of the weight lifted.
He left and then returned with a piece of paper and a pen. He handed it to me secretively, and I tucked it under my shirt. I retreated into my room and tried to think of what I would say. I scribbled nervously, not for writing to her, but for someone finding it, reading it. I was risking everything and my hands shook.
Mid-letter, I slammed my fist on the table. I’m a goddamned grown man! I shouldn’t have to sit here and be afraid to write a letter to the woman I love! I seethed inside my mind. I wanted to write that, so badly. More than anything. I love you. I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t risk them finding out, and I wanted her to hear it from me. I wanted to see her eyes when I said it, not have her read emotionless scribble on cold paper.
And I didn’t know if she loved me. I thought so, I was almost sure, but not completely. I wondered how I would find out and whether I should take the chance of saying it too soon which might scare her or too late, and by then she might think I didn’t and would never say it first. That’s not how it worked. It all made my head spin, and I realized I had wasted ten minutes. I scribbled the rest of the note and stuffed it down my pants just as the lock on my door turned.
Seven long days. One hundred sixty eight hours. Ten thousand eighty minutes. I swear, at one point, the clock hands moved backwards, making me relive them again and again.
I sat across from her at breakfast, exhaling a
s if I’d been holding my breath. “I missed you.” I leaned forward and then looked around nervously.
“I missed you, too,” she said. “I got your note.”
“Good. David promised me he would get it to you.”
“Thank you for letting me know. I was worried.”
I nodded to my food as an orderly walked by.
“I thought you changed your mind about me,” she whispered.
I looked directly at her, to hell with the consequences. “No. Don’t ever think that.” She smiled, nodded and slid her foot across the floor, nesting it close against mine.
Dinner came and nearly went before Elizabeth walked in. She looked ragged and weak. She pushed her hair back and slumped, holding her own head up with her hand while she began to eat.
“What’s wrong?” I tried, and failed, to keep the concern out of my eyes.
“I’m tired,” she whispered and then blew on a spoon of cold soup out of habit.
“What happened?” She shook her head. She looked like she would nod off at any minute. She had been fine after lunch. I stared at her, waiting. She ate slowly and kept her head down.
I rubbed my knuckles over my mouth impatiently. “Damn it,” I grunted, not at her. “Elizabeth, please. If you don’t tell me, I’ll worry.” She knew that feeling well and wouldn’t want it for me.
“They pushed me,” she said quietly.
I lowered my head, kept my eyes on her, and waited for her to clarify. I bounced my knee under the table. “Elizabeth,” I hissed.
“The other one hasn’t come out in a while. They were pushing me to see if they could make it come out, or if I could stay in control and keep it away. They said there’s a chance it’s gone. But we won’t know unless they push me.”
I hated the thought and had to push the mental image of what that looked like out of my mind.
