Suddenly Seb and I had been elevated from residents to confidants to the Assistant Manager and it was rather disconcerting. Seb and I both were smart people, Seb had not always lived in homes/institutions so he had an understanding of the outside world and though I had been shifted from foster family, to homes, to hospitals I had learned how to survive and live my life according to a set of morals I had created for myself over time.
In a way I was lucky, my early years were with mostly nice if somewhat indifferent foster families, reasonably decent care homes when I wasn’t in foster care or hospital and only the last place I had lived in before this one had been bad, but I hadn’t stayed there long enough for it to overly affect me.
I remember the first day of the rise of the Twice Dead as if it was yesterday. There was nothing remotely sinister or terrible about it in the beginning. At that moment there were no stumbling Twice Dead trying to snack on all our body parts.
We were all in the kitchen because it was bigger than Adag’s office. Jasmine, Eden, Stevie and Cassidy were watching a DVD in the lounge, Seb had put on the Wizard of Oz, as it was a good two hours long and a favourite with everyone.
I was leaning against the industrial sized fridge, my arms crossed over my chest, to the left of me was Seb in his wheelchair, he was fiddling with the joy stick that his right hand was perpetually on, staring at it as if it could answer all the questions going around inside his head.
Shannon was making tea for everyone, I watched her bustle about, whilst Mitch who had come in from the garage washed his hands in the sink. I liked Mitch. He was in his late fifties, solidly built, with a bit of a beer belly, but otherwise in good health. He was a very calm person, never losing his temper even with the most difficult of residents…like Seb.
Mitch had been a soldier for many years, rising through the ranks to Sergeant, doing 30 years from the age of 18 and retiring when he was 48. Since then he had worked as a driver, at first for a trucking company before coming to Thorncroft six years ago. He was a sensible man who unlike Adag, the Gorilla and Shannon had no family to worry about. He was divorced, childless and had lost contact with his siblings.
Adag was divorced, but she had a grown-up daughter who lived and worked in London. The Gorilla had family in Sheffield, but he didn’t appear overly worried about them at that moment, he was still of the opinion that everything would be sorted out once he got back from town. Shannon’s family and boyfriend lived locally and she was itching to make sure that everything was ok and it was nothing, but a stupid hoax.
I could tell that Adag wanted to believe that as much as Shannon did, Mitch was reserving judgment I could tell.
Shannon took the tea out to the residents and we drank ours in the kitchen. For once, I had sugar in mine, three teaspoons; I noticed Seb did the same. The sickly sweet taste gave me a feeling of calmness that I actually didn’t feel.
We talked for a bit more, about the flashing red message on every link on the computer and as to why our mobile phones were not working, but the landlines were. Finally, we had to make a decision about going into town.
The Gorilla had his own car, and it was agreed that he would drive into town and find out what was happening. Shannon asked if she could go with him, Adag refused at first, but Shannon insisted.
“I just need to make sure my family are ok,” she said, “And I will be with Gregory.”
Adag finally agreed and the Gorilla went to get his coat and car keys. Shannon rushed to get her coat and belongings and clad in her powder blue parka, her handbag swung over her shoulder, she smiled at me, trying to be upbeat and said lightly, “We will be back soon.”
I nodded my head, out of the corner of my eye I saw Seb looking at me. For once, he didn’t make any sarcastic remark; he muttered something about going to speak to Phoenix and Adag asked me if I would check on Paul.
I watched Shannon as she followed the Gorilla out of the door. I remember her long blonde hair falling down her back and resting on the pale blueness of her shiny new coat she just bought during one of our outings. She always wore boots to work, smart knee high brown leather boots that fitted snugly around her ankles. I envied her slim long legs in tight drainpipe jeans, her trim figure and healthy gait. It was a good memory and one I hold onto because that was the last time I was to see Shannon. The last time any of us saw her.
I checked on Paul who when I entered his room was being sick into a basin. Luckily, I am not squeamish, too many times in hospitals myself had made me immune to vomit and shit, though I wasn’t a big fan of needles.
I went and got a bowl, warm water and some flannels from the store room. I also got a bottle of cold water from the fridge.
“Where’s Shannon?” Paul rasped when I entered the room. His hollow cheeks and sunken eyes showed the toll the treatment he was having was taking on him. When he had arrived at Thorncroft apparently, he had been a stocky teenager, with a mop of curly red hair and he had meat on his bones. He wasn’t fat, but he had, had a healthy glow about him. Now he was stick thin, had lost all his hair and his skin was bruised and paper thin from so many bloods tests and cannula’s being inserted into his veins. He had a hearing impairment and he used to wear hearing aids but his sore ears forced him to often discard them. He was adept at Adapted Makaton and he was one of the best of us for lip reading.
I didn’t really interact with him, he had Asperger’s like Phoenix, but unlike Phoenix he had a modicum of social skills and when he was well enough, he had interacted reasonably well with most of the other residents. He had also formed a friendship with Stevie who when Paul was feeling well enough would let him push him around in his manual wheelchair in the garden.
I found it odd that such a high functioning Asperger’s person like Paul would look twice at someone like Stevie who spoke monosyllabically, and simply. Stevie had no academic leanings in any direction other than looking at pictures of weight lifters and reading comic books. He was good at Adapted Makaton though.
When I had arrived at Thorncroft, I had been taught the rudiments of Adapted Makaton, it was one of the house rules; everyone had to learn Adapted Makaton as this helped those with speech difficulties integrate with those that didn’t. I hadn’t been overly keen, but a rule is a rule and I dutifully attended my induction workshop.
To my utter surprise, I found that I enjoyed learning Adapted Makaton, which incorporated signs, symbols, and speaking if the person using it could verbilise.
Adapted Makaton comes in between Makaton and British Sign Language (BSL). It has more nuance than Makaton itself but is not as richly complex as BSL.
It did, however level the playing field for many people in the home though Seb said it was a load of shit and he would rather scratch his arse and sniff his fingers then learn the language of morons. He had, unfortunately, I was told by Shannon said this in front of a Social Worker and the fall out for his behaviour almost resulted in him being reported for a Hate Crime.
I am no goody two shoes angel; I don’t see me as having much in common with anyone in the home, but I don’t believe in being rude about someone just for the sake of it.
I think my early dislike of Seb stemmed from that particular story though watching him I did find him a bit of a contradiction. He was rude to his fellow residents, yes, and he often used words I didn’t like at times, but if Stevie asked him to fix his earphones, he would do it, he set the SKY up to record everyone’s favourite programs, and he often helped fix small problems with other resident’s wheelchairs if needed. Like I said, Seb was a real contradiction, along with being unpredictable.
Paul loved to read, and watch the documentary channels on SKY. His passion was anything to do with the universe, from quantum physics to space travel.
“She had to go into town with Gregory,” I said, making sure he could see my lips moving. My hands moved to form the words as I spoke. I handed him a wet flannel, then took his bowl of sick off him to empty it down the toilet. I rinsed it out with the shower head. Thorncrof
t is nice that each room for its residents has its small on-suite bathroom, toilet, sink and shower. It gives you a sense of having your own space though you have to eat your food in a communal area.
I gave Paul his sick bowl back along with a fresh clean flannel and the bottle of cold water. His face was grey and pasty. The treatment he had been having had taken a lot out of him. He should have been in a hospice really, but his family had persuaded Thorncroft to keep him for another month before the inevitable happened, and he became too ill to stay where he was. They wanted him to have continuity for as long as possible. Like Phoenix, Paul didn’t handle change well. He had been in Thorncroft since he was 18 and he was settled. He was also dying.
“Can you put my TV on?” he asked me. Like Phoenix, Paul watched a lot of TV.
“The satellite dish is on the blink,” I said automatically.
He grimaced, then asked me to put a DVD on for him, which I did. I didn’t choose a Zombie film. I then helped him get comfortable, and went and got him some ice for his bottled water. His room was dark, how he liked it and on Adag’s instructions, I took some tablets into him and watched as he took them.
I closed his door softly behind me leaving him staring at the flickering captioned images on his screen opposite his bed, for the moment oblivious to what was going on beyond his own room.
Adag was busy in the kitchen, making snacks for the others. Mitch had gone back to his garage and I saw everyone was still engrossed in the Wizard of Oz.
I didn’t know what Seb and Phoenix were doing, but I didn’t really want their company right at that moment. I slipped out of the building and made my way to the bench under the tree. I sat down, pressed my palms on the grainy wood, and turned my face upward toward the innocent blue sky. How lovely it looked I thought, how ordinary, a late afternoon on a Sunday in the quiet grounds of a residential home.
My life was made up of endless routines in a world that was structured around my disabilities. My leg throbbed so as to make me aware of my physical limitations and I pushed at the leg brace so it was in a more comfortable position.
I could live independently in my secret opinion, but Social Services obviously thought otherwise, and because I felt safe under their care however disparate and indifferent it might have been at times, I had gone along with it and not fought them. I had played a part in my own gilded incarceration whereas Seb had been forced kicking and screaming into a world that inhibited and enraged him.
We were different ends of the spectrum I thought, both a product of an environment that didn’t truly value our individuality. We were inspirations when we did something that was perceived to be extraordinary, but if we didn’t inspire admiration, then we inspired tolerance of something that had to be endured.
It wasn’t so bad I supposed for those with learning disabilities where their world was set out in a certain way as to what they could or couldn’t do. I thought of Jasmine, Stevie and Cassidy, the common thread they shared was they had learning disabilities, but even they weren’t the same, even I could see that.
Thorncroft at least took a holistic approach bringing together different disabilities and it worked, primarily because it was not a big home and also because it was private and had money to make sure it worked reasonably well. I remembered my last placement, and shuddered, now that was a place that did not work and no one noticed because after all, the majority of the residents had issues that Social Services were simply not equipped to deal with due to lack of funding.
I heard a twig snap and turned my head.
It was Mitch. He smiled at me and pointed to the bench. I nodded my head and he sat down. He was holding a box of cigarettes and a lighter in one of his hands.
“Don’t tell Adag,” he said as he cupped a hand around the cigarette in order to light it. I wondered if he knew that the Assistant Manager was always sneaking out of her office for a quick puff on a cigarette behind the water butt just outside the kitchen door.
We sat quietly, side by side for a few minutes, and it was Mitch who broke the silence first.
“I don’t think it’s good,” he said.
I didn’t pretend not to understand him, “What do you think has happened?” I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders, “Could be anything, but its big whatever it is, I might be an old fart, but even I know whole communication systems don’t go down all at once,” he looked directly at me, “Someone obviously pulled a switch, a bloody big switch.”
I frowned, “You think it was done on purpose?” I said.
It was his turn to nod his head, “For whatever reason, I don’t think Gregory and Shannon should have gone into town.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” I said.
“Because they would have gone anyway,” Mitch replied and I couldn’t argue with that.
“Do you think we are safe here?” I don’t know why I asked that question, but I did.
Mitch shrugged his shoulders, “It as good a place as any, set back from town, in a dip, a road going one way and nature going the other, hills are good protection, especially ones that man hasn’t messed with,” his eyes moved to the land behind Thorncroft, rich and green and free of man’s taint, “We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” Mitch finished smoking his cigarette and then stood up, “I’m going to get the coach ready,” he said, “Just in case.”
I watched as he walked away, he didn’t look back and I found myself getting up and heading back to the dining room where Adag was giving out snacks along with glasses of fresh orange juice, which she insisted everyone drink.
“I’ve had orange juice already,” Jasmine objected, but Adag made her take the glass and drink the contents. The girl grumpily drank it and made a face.
“It tastes funny,” she said.
“It smells funny too,” Eden began as she sniffed her drink
“It’s concentrated that’s why,” Adag said briskly, “Cassidy would you like a big glass of juice?”
Cassidy’s eyes lit up and he eagerly accepted the large pint glass of thick yellow liquid along with two chocolate biscuits. He gulped down the liquid and munched on the biscuits. This was a treat indeed and he was delighted.
“Why don’t you go and have a lie down?” Adag said to the big teenager, “You can put a DVD on in your room if you want.”
Cassidy couldn’t believe his luck, he wasn’t normally allowed into his room until bedtime, being kept active and busy all day so that he didn’t just lie around and eat. He happily trotted off and Adag turned to Jasmine and Eden, she smiled at them and said, “Just this once you can have a sleepover with each other!”
The two girls squealed in delight. They were always begging Adag to let them have sleep overs in each other’s room, but Adag very rarely allowed it as they had a tendency to be noisy and end up scrapping best friends or not. The girls rushed off before Adag could change her mind.
Stevie refused the biscuits and orange juice. No amount of persuasion could make him touch the glass of thick pulpy juice. He glowered at Adag, still upset with her over what he saw as her keeping him from his family.
Adag was not normally so persistent about people eating and drinking unless it was a main meal. I noticed there were no beakers of orange juice set out for Seb, Phoenix or me.
“Stevie,” I said, “Shall we put one of your weight lifting DVD on the TV?”
Stevie’s almond shaped eyes swiveled to my face, I gave him a friendly smile, and added, “You can watch it on the big screen in here.”
His eyes instinctively moved to the large communal TV screen that had not long ago been showing the Wizard of Oz.
He licked his lips and I added truthfully, “I think it’s amazing you are training for the Paralympics.”
He puffed up with pride at my words, his angst with Adag momentarily forgotten, “I’m going to Tokyo,” he boasted which wasn’t a lie per se, he was in the running to represent GB in 2020 Paralympic Games.
Adag shot me a grateful look as he hurr
ied off to get a DVD and as soon as he was out of earshot I asked her, “What’s in the orange juice?”
She didn’t lie to me, “Something to help them sleep,” she said simply, “Until we know what is going on, they will sleep until the morning, it won’t harm them.”
I actually understood her reasoning and Stevie soon returned, carrying one of his DVD’s and two of his rubber-coated exercise dumbbells that he liked to show off with. He had impressive muscles; he worked out every day in the patio area weather permitting. He was I suspected as strong as Cassidy was when the teenager was on the rampage, but Stevie was a lot more mellow than Cassidy, he very rarely lost his temper even when he was upset. Today was an unusual occurrence.
I put on the DVD and I offered him the juice and chocolate biscuits, which he willingly took off me. He sat on the sofa, taking a large mouthful of the liquid, his eyes glued to the TV. I was glad that he had big pillows behind him because when he fell asleep I could just cover him up with a duvet and leave him where he was.
Adag gave Paul a milder tranquilizer than the others, mixed in with his milky coffee that he liked in the late afternoon. She then went back to her office, telling me she was going to finish off her paperwork. There is nothing like routine to keep you calm and focused.
I made myself a cup of tea in the kitchen, drank it and then headed in the direction of my room. The door to Adag’s office was partly open and I saw her at her desk, her back to me. She had the office landline phone pressed to her ear and I heard her muttering, “Please pick up Pia, please…” it was obvious Pia didn't pick up because Adag slammed the phone down into its cradle with the words, “Bloody answerphone!”
Not wanting her to realise I was listening, I quickly moved away. As I limped by Phoenix’s door it swung open and Seb slid partly out of it in his wheelchair.
“Lucy,” he said and I turned. He jerked his head for me to enter Phoenix’s room. Instinctively I wanted to ignore him, to take refuge in my room, to my surprise he used Adapted Makaton, saying, “You have to see this.”
The Abandoned Trilogy (Book 1): Twice Dead (Contagion) Page 4
