by Rena Mason
Ella walks around a few of the potted trees to a bench in the corner. I see Cally sitting to one side, staring down at the ground. I’m so used to her expecting my visits and watching her face light up when she sees me. They must have her on something, she appears to move in slow motion as Ella approaches her. Cally’s eyes are pallid and glossed over. She’s definitely medicated. It’s hard to believe a few weeks or so ago we met for lunch, and she was pure radiant sunshine.
Ella leans down and whispers something in her ear. Cally’s eyes move over and look into mine. They immediately begin to well up. Cally nods her head then Ella turns around, walks up to me, and gently puts her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be on the other side of these trees if you need anything.”
“Thanks. I’ll be fine.” She moves her hand away then walks on. I step up to Cally and sit down next to her on the bench.
“Oh, Stacy, it’s so good to see you.” She raises her arms to give me a hug and it appears to take all the energy she can muster. So, I scoot in closer and put mine around her.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper into the side of her head. The stale odor of cigarettes and hospital disinfectant lingers in her hair.
“Just to see you makes me feel so good, but getting to smell your sweetness now, too has really made my day.” She slurs her words as if she’s had one too many Cosmos. “That’s why I’ve always called you Sweetie, you know…because you smell like gumballs.”
I release her from my arms then sit back and look her over. “Cally, I’m going home today.”
“You are? That’s wonderful. For a while, I thought you would die.”
Yeah, she’s definitely, very medicated. “They didn’t find anything wrong.”
“I’m happy for you, then.” A shadow of sadness veils her face, followed by silence. I’m not sure how or if I should even respond. All I can think of is her answering the door wearing that silly genie costume for book club. And now…
“Cally, I’m just so sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything. Not being a better friend.”
“But you’re the best.”
“Not really. We should have talked more. Spoke about things that really mattered.”
“That’s no fun.”
“But maybe we could’ve helped each other.”
“We did.”
“How?”
“To forget.”
I tilt my head in confusion.
“When we were together, Sweetie, it was just you and me. I forgot about all my doubts. You made them seem less important. That was what I needed more than anything—to forget.”
A sudden swell of tears blurs my image of her. I blink and they stream down from the corners of my eyes.
“Oh, don’t cry,” she says. “Everything’s going to work out. You’ll see.” She puts her arms around me and holds me tight. “I’ll be fine and so will you. They’re going to let me out soon, and then we can go back to doing things the way we used to.”
She releases me then rests her hands in her lap. Purple bruises encircle both her wrists. They must have had to tie her down like old Jerry sitting in the hall. I’m not sure she’s getting out of here any time soon.
Like clockwork, Ella comes around the corner. “I’m sorry to interrupt ladies, but Cally, you’ve got a meeting to attend.”
“That’s right,” Cally says. “I better get going.” She stands up and I do the same.
“Sasha will be here for you shortly,” Ella says to Cally.
“Aren’t you coming, too?” Cally asks Ella.
“I’ll be there as soon as I walk Stacy back.”
“Okay. Bye Stacy,” Cally says.
“Goodbye.” I say, holding my breath. I’m weak in the knees, keeping back tears and gasps. I don’t want her to see me break.
Ella puts her hand on my shoulder and gently guides me over to the camouflaged door. As soon as it buzzes open I stumble in, put my face down into my hands and cry. Ella supports me with her arm and walks me to the door by the nurses’ station. Poor Jerry is still seated next to it, but he has a small blanket over his legs now.
“I understand how you’re feeling Stacy, but she’s showing signs of improvement, and that’s all I can tell you.” She pulls a tissue from her pocket and hands it to me. I blow my nose and wipe my tears. From the end of the hall I can already see Jon’s face peering into the small square window through the door. He smiles and I’m somewhat at ease again.
“Thanks again for all your help today, Ella. It was very nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too. I’ve got to go in and buzz the door open. When you hear it, go ahead and pull the handle.”
“Okay.”
Ella keys herself into the enclosed nurses’ station through the solid door. As soon as she’s inside, Jerry lunges at me from the chair. He reaches for me and I see remnants of white straps hanging from his wrists. Jerry broke free! The weight of his body throws me down against the hard tile floor. Jon is yelling and kicking the bigger door from the other side. I raise my head and look up at the little window. I get a distorted glimpse of Jon with a horrified expression on his face. Then Jerry grabs the back of my head. I turn to look for Ella, and he pushes my face into the floor. Ella is trying to get back out, but she’s in a panic. I can hear her fumbling the keys around the door handle. The code doesn’t seem to be working. A siren goes off, like a fire alarm. Suddenly, blue-white lights come on. They’re positioned along the ceiling every five feet. They blink in time with the blaring electronic beeps.
Within seconds, I hear and feel thunderous footsteps behind and underneath me. Jerry’s dead weight is lifted from my body, but he has hold of my hair and he’s pulling it up. Then there are more buzzes. Jon bolts through the door, Ella steps out into the hall. They are prying Jerry’s fingers from my hair.
“Let go!” Jon says.
“They’re coming,” Jerry screams. “She’ll kill us all! Do you hear? We’re all gonna die!”
He flails wildly in the arms of two large men wearing white uniforms. Several other people are standing around in scrubs and white uniforms. They must have lifted him off me. Ella has a syringe in her hand. She quickly pulls the cap off with her teeth and stabs Jerry in the thigh. She pushes down until the clear liquid is gone. Within moments, Jerry gives up and passes out.
Jon gently turns my head in his hands and takes a look at my face. “Jesus Christ.”
A warm trickle moves down from my nose and over my lip. I take the tissue Ella had given me, put it up to my nostrils, and blot. “It’s nothing,” I tell him. “I’m fine.”
“I’m so sorry, Stacy—Dr. Troy. I’ve never seen Jerry lose it like this before,” Ella says. “You guys take him back to his room and sheet him, please.” She directs the orderlies. “I don’t know how the hell he got out of his bindings, but I’ve got to call Dr. Springer.”
“Let’s go, Jon. Please,” I beg.
“Is it all right if we leave?” Jon asks Ella.
“Go ahead, but keep your cell phone on just in case.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Are you sure Stacy’s all right?” she says. “Maybe you should bring her to the ER?”
“No. I’m taking her home. She’s fine. I’ll handle it.”
“I’m really, really sorry about that, Dr. Troy. I’m still not sure what happened.”
“Tell Dr. Springer to give me a call if he needs anything.”
“I will.” Ella slides her badge and steps into the nurses’ station. She pushes a button over by one of the telephones and the alarm stops blaring through the speakers. I hardly noticed them anymore after Jerry slammed the side of my face into the floor.
“The alarm lights are still twinkling.” I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“They will for about ten more minutes. Come on. Let’s get you home.”
After the massive door closes behind us, Jon examines my face again. The bleeding has stopped. It wasn’t a nosebleed like
the ones before. Then for a split second I hear a musical electronic tone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The bells chime—it’s them. “Do you hear that?” I say. Jon is still examining my face for injuries. Twisting my head from side to side, using my chin like a knob.
“That ringing? Yeah. It’ll go away in a minute. It’s from the alarm. I’ll talk to administration about it. It’s loud enough to wake the dead.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing…for this place, I mean.” I giggle.
“Not funny.” He releases my chin then moves in and kisses my forehead. “You’re fine. Let’s go.” He takes my hand and leads me back the way we came. As soon as we round the corner, the tones stop. I wonder if it had something to do with my head hitting the floor. And Jerry—what the hell was his problem? I know he was tied to that chair earlier. I saw it. I’ve never been happier to leave a place. Poor Cally…
“Honey, is Cally going to be okay?” I say.
“Eventually…at least she’s getting help.”
“How long will she have to be here?”
“As long as it takes.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“I’m not a shrink, babe. Speaking of which, I don’t want you going to anymore of those appointments. You weren’t planning on it, were you?”
“No. I stopped going a while ago.”
“Good. You don’t need it. That’s not what’s wrong with you.”
Yeah, right. More like, good, you don’t want word to get out I’ve wound up like Cally.
* * *
Jon helps me into the passenger’s side of my SUV then runs around and gets in. Brown paper bags with market handles line the back seat. Several small Mylar balloons stick up from some of the bags, the little round ones that come in flower arrangements. Jon backs out of a physician’s parking spot.
“Where did those come from?” I say.
“What?”
“The balloons.”
“Oh those—Geez, I thought you meant a car was headed straight for us or something—they came with some flowers. You got all kinds of Get Well stuff, but while you were quarantined they kept it all at the nurses’ station.”
“Oh.”
Jon looks around for moving cars then exits the parking garage.
“It’s gray out,” I say. Not that it has anything to do with anything, but my mind seems to be jumping around a little bit. Maybe I developed adult ADD while I was in the hospital…I wonder if that’s even possible.
“Well, it is winter,” Jon says. “Christmas is in a little more than a week.”
“That means the fundraiser is this weekend.”
“Don’t think about it. Jordan finished up all of the arrangements.”
“Yeah, remind me to thank her.”
“Why’d you say it like that?”
“No reason—I want to go.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m fine, Jon. It’s like nothing ever happened. My life should go on as planned.”
“We’ll see.”
“Humph.” I turn my head and stare out the window at the concrete sky above and desiccate earth below. In between is an area where the two meld together. That middle ground of gray and brown is where we live. A stark contrast to a place made up of gelled, liquid-color lights. When people lose their minds their distortions on reality always seem to go in the extreme opposite direction of their everyday environments. The more I look around, it makes perfect sense why.
* * *
Jon pulls up the driveway and for some reason I expect to see Patrick and my parents waiting in the garage. My side is empty though, except for some stacked trash boxes and Patrick’s long skateboard shoved up against the side wall.
I get out and open the door to the back seat.
“What are you doing?” Jon says. “Go inside. I’ll get this.”
I shut the car door and head for the house. As soon as I step in, my mom walks up and throws her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re home, dear.” Her voice cracks and she takes in a rapid sequence of quick breaths. She’s crying now. My dad comes up and pries her from me. She wipes her tears while my dad leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek.
“Glad you’re home,” he says.
“We thought we might lose you,” my mom says. Then she breaks into tears again.
Jon comes through the garage door behind me. “Why is everybody in the hallway?”
“Here, let me help.” My dad steps up and takes two of the bags from Jon.
We all walk toward the family room.
“Where’s Pat?” I say.
“Upstairs,” my mom answers. “That boy plays video games all day and all night, nothing else. It’s not right, and now that you’re home you can talk to him about it.”
Jon whisks by us in a huff. Now I feel a hundred times sorry for what he’s had to endure. This is going to take some serious making up, and the mere thought of it has me exhausted.
“Mom, please, not now.” Three steps into the family room and I come to a stop, suddenly exasperated. The room feels like it’s caving in around me. I’m being crushed by Christmas.
“What’s the matter? I bet you’re tired. Come in and sit on the couch.” She gestures me toward the loveseat as if I were a guest in her house. It feels strange, surreal almost. I look around between the family room and kitchen. Nothing looks familiar, not even the decorations. Her things are set out on the counters and on top of the end tables. Right now, I actually do feel alien, and in my own home. It’s as though I’ve been away on another planet and have returned sometime in the future. Nothing feels right. The smell in the house isn’t even the same. It reeks of my mom’s perfume and cheap plastic Christmas decorations. Reality has become a nightmare, and my dreams are someplace I think I might like to get back to.
“What is it?” she says. “Have a seat.”
“Nothing. I’d like to shower first, that’s all.”
“Oh,” she says. “Well, don’t take too long. I’ve made some food. Maybe get Patrick on your way down. I don’t think he’s eaten anything all day.”
“Let me get rid of these, and I’ll walk you up,” Jon says.
“That’s all right,” I tell him. “I can do it.”
He gives me a stern look then pushes aside some ridiculous glittery Santa figurines.
“Don’t listen to her,” my mom says. “She might get weak and slip, and we can’t have her falling down the stairs now, she just got home.”
Jon tosses the bags on the counter then walks over to me and rolls his eyes when she can no longer see his face. I head for the stairs, and he follows me up with one hand gently placed across the small of my back. Sparkling red garland is wound around the handrail to imitate the look of a candy cane. At the landing I nearly trip over a small snowman set down on the carpet. It’s wearing a cowboy hat and a red paisley ‘kerchief around its neck. There’s a piece of rope between both hands.
“Watch this,” Jon says. He moves his foot over the base of the snowman then pushes down on a button. The snowman immediately goes into a country western song about “Lassoing Santa Claus.”
“How could you let her do this to my house?” I whisper.
“Like I had a choice.”
Then from the bottom of the stairs, we hear. “Isn’t that adorable? It was on sale and I just knew you’d love it.”
“Yeah, Mom, real cute. Thanks,” I yell down. Then I get right back to whispering exclamations at Jon. “Good God, why didn’t you call James? He’s arranged our holiday decorations for the last decade. Honestly, Jon. It looks like a bargain mart Christmas aisle exploded down there. And up here.” I stroke the garland around the staircase, and it makes a crackling sound. Then there’s a tiny snap, and the piece rolls down from its position. “You let her use tape on the cherry handrail?” I put the garland back into place, re-stick the tape to the banister and roll my eyes at Jon.
“I’m telling you, I had no choice. When
James called to schedule an appointment, your mother answered the phone. She told him we wouldn’t be requiring his services this year.” He whisper yells back.
I can’t help but laugh in snorts. He starts to crack up, too then quickly guides me up the rest of the stairs before my mother hears us. When we get into the master bedroom he closes the French doors behind us, grabs a hold of my hands and turns me around to face him. “You’re probably wondering why you left after a homecoming like this.”
“Never.” I kiss him on the lips. “You’re my hero. You getting in the shower with me?”
“No. This is my chance to finally get some work done. I’m behind. Your mother thinks that when I’m home I should keep your father entertained and run errands for her. She even asked me to string lights around the rooftops. I flat out refused. She was upset at first, but then it was your dad who finally convinced her it was a bad idea. One of us in the hospital was enough.”
“Like I said, you’re my hero.”
He smiles, kisses me, and then quietly opens the door and heads toward the office.
I walk into the bathroom and undress. A hot shower anywhere else will never feel as good. It’s the only place in the house that has stayed the same. I close my eyes and breathe in the rising whorls of steam. The scent they carry is lightly sweet, and then I wonder…maybe I’ve always smelled this way but never noticed until now.
The hot water pelting my back is nothing like the cool slimy gel I was covered in when I was away. I’m not so sure anymore which one has better soothing powers. Living essence from the others seemed to flow through the ooze, and all at once I would feel safe, comforted, an integral part of something—home.
