The Boarding House

by Sharon Sala

  The men were taken unawares by the strength of her alter’s reaction. Wyatt doubled up his fist as he pulled away, punched one nurse in the face, the other in the groin and took off running down the hall.

  Aaron Tyler was just getting off the elevator and was on his way up to his office when he heard a woman screaming for Sophie. That had to be Ellie. He took off running in the direction of the screams.

  Wyatt had gained some distance from his pursuers, and when he turned a corner that put him momentarily out of their sight, he darted into a janitor closet, then into the far corner and hid behind some mops and brooms.

  Cinnamon arrived just as Wyatt was trying to catch his breath. “Well, that was smart. Now they’re going to shoot Ellie full of drugs to keep her quiet.”

  Wyatt dropped his head. “Shit. I didn’t think.”

  “You rarely do,” she reminded him. “Don’t worry. I’ll get us out of this, but next time, talk to me first before you decide to take someone out by the balls.”

  Wyatt nodded. “Sorry, but what are we going to do about Sophie? She’s gone.”

  “And we both know why,” Cin said, as she stood up. “The issue comes in convincing Ellie. I’m going out now. Keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking.”

  “Right.”

  They’d come a long way from Wyatt’s resentment of her arrival and Cinnamon was confident of her ability to keep everyone inside. She smoothed down the front of her shirt and pants, finger-combed her hair, and sauntered out of the janitor’s closet as calmly as if she was taking a walk. At that moment, Charlie came around the corner.

  Cinnamon waved. “Hey Charlie. No worries. I have everything under control. Help me find Dr. Tyler, okay?”

  “Is it really you?” Charlie said, as he grabbed her by the arm.

  She grinned and winked. “All five feet seven inches of me and my gorgeous red hair.”

  The two male nurses were right behind him, carrying restraints.

  “It’s cool,” Charlie said. “Cinnamon’s here. It’s over.”

  “Like hell,” one nurse muttered. “She hit me.”

  The other one was still holding his crotch.

  Charlie grinned. “You’re six foot two. Do you really want it to get around the hospital that a little female took you out?”

  “Whatever, I’m putting her in restraints.”

  Cinnamon waggled a finger. “Let’s don’t. I promise I’ve got them all under control. We need to find Dr. Tyler. All of this happened because Sophie is gone.”

  Charlie immediately understood what that meant. “Aw heck, no wonder she freaked. Look guys, the restraints aren’t necessary. I’ve got this,” Charlie said, and took off down the hall holding Cinnamon’s arm.

  Aaron was out of breath and down to a walk as he, too, finally caught up.

  “Hey Doc, we’ve been looking for you,” Cin said. “Ellie has a problem. Do you have time to talk?”

  Aaron was relieved to see Ellie had disappeared and the alter with the level head was now in charge.

  “Of course. Bring her to my office, Charlie.”

  Cinnamon went along quietly, saving her bombshell for when they were behind closed doors.

  Ellie’s scream had been Luther’s wake-up call. He sat up in bed, his heart hammering and the sound of her despair locked in his head. He got up and walked straight to the window. Sunrise had come and gone and the light of a new morning was softer than it would be later in the day. He pictured her face, and when he could feel her heartbeat, he closed his eyes.

  Aaron didn’t want to ruin the moment by setting up a video camera, so he turned on a tape recorder and settled in by throwing out his first question to Cinnamon. “What happened to Ellie this morning?”

  “Sophie’s gone.”

  Aaron blinked. “As in missing, or permanently gone?”

  “As in not coming back ever,” she said. “Sophie warned Ellie it would happen, but typical Ellie, she chose to ignore something she didn’t want to face.”

  “Why do you think Sophie left?”

  Cin crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair. “I know why she left. Ellie doesn’t need her anymore now that Garrett’s dead. The less Sophie was needed, the worse her hearing became. After your God guy painted that window, Ellie has pretty much abandoned all of us except when she’s in her room. Then she wants to talk because she’s so afraid of being alone.”

  “What do you think that window means to her?”

  Cinnamon shrugged. “I don’t know and I don’t think Ellie does either. All she does when she sits down in front of it is talk to God, and I already told her she could talk to God anywhere. She didn’t need a Jesus window to make it happen.”

  “So what’s going to happen once Ellie comes back?”

  “She’s going to pitch a fit and then go into a state of depression for sure. You see, for Ellie, Sophie just died.”

  “Lord.”

  Cinnamon grinned. “Might be a good idea to clue Him in, too. Oh. Wait a sec . . . uh, wow . . . see you later, Doc.”

  Ellie sat up. “Sophie is gone.”

  Aaron blinked. What just happened? “Ellie?”

  “Yes, it’s me.” Then she leaned forward and whispered. “Sophie is gone.” Tears rolled down her face. “She left and never even said good-bye. Why would she do that?”

  Aaron was impressed. Ellie had never moved Cinnamon aside and taken the forefront before. It was either a sign of how distraught she was, or that she was finally learning to take control of her own anger. “Cinnamon said Sophie told you this would happen.”

  Ellie moaned and covered her face with her hands. “She’s gone and I don’t know how to get her back.”

  “But Ellie, do you really think you still need a nanny?”

  Ellie kept sobbing, her shoulders shaking so hard her whole body was trembling. “No.”

  “Then why are you so distraught? This just means you’re becoming an adult. One day you’ll be on your own and you have to learn how to do that before you can leave here.”

  “I don’t want to live alone. I’m afraid to be alone.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know how to be that way. I don’t want to be that way.”

  “So one day you’ll meet someone and get married.”

  Ellie shuddered then looked up. “That’s not going to happen. I will never get married.”

  Aaron stifled a sigh. He didn’t want to get into this, but they were here just the same. “With therapy you can—”

  She leaned forward, pounding her fist on his desk—her eyes burning with hate. “You listen to me. I would never trust a man. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust Charlie, and you’re both good to me. I will never have a child for someone else to destroy. I will die first. You don’t talk to me about this ever again. Do you understand?”

  Aaron felt chastised and ashamed in the way only his grandmother had ever made him feel. “Yes.”

  “Sophie is dead and I’m sad. And I’m mad. I don’t need therapy today. I need to cry. Tell Charlie to come get me or I’m going on my own.”

  Aaron picked up the phone and quickly paged Charlie’s number. “He’s on his way.”

  Ellie covered her face. “The least she could have done was say good-bye.”

  “Ellie.”

  “What?”

  “Lots of people die without getting to say good-bye to their loved ones.”

  She swiped the tears from her cheeks and looked up.

  He had her attention. Now he needed to drive the point home. “Think about it. When people die in accidents, they don’t know they’re going to die, so there’s no way for them to tell their loved ones good-bye. When people die on the operating table, they don’t get that chance. When people drop dead of heart attacks or strokes, they don’t get that chance. You’re not the only person who’s ever lost a loved one. You can grieve and get mad and blame God and whoever else you choose, but it doesn’t change the fact that bad things happen and lives end.”<
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  All of a sudden Ellie stood up.

  He thought she was about to run again, and then he realized she was listening to something. He assumed it was one of the alters. “Is Cinnamon talking to you?”

  Ellie’s eyes widened as she slowly shook her head.

  “Then who do you hear?”

  “I think it’s God.”

  Oh great. Sophie’s gone, so now she’s pulling out the God voice.

  “Why do you think it’s God?”

  “Because of what He said.”

  “So tell me, Ellie. What did you hear the voice say?”

  “Come to My window.”

  Aaron stifled the urge to roll his eyes.

  Ellie started toward the door. “I need to go to the common room now.”

  “It’s morning. Free time isn’t until this afternoon.”

  “I need to go now. He said, ‘Come to My window.’”

  “There’s a window. You can use that one.”

  Ellie looked at Aaron as if he’d lost his mind. “He said, ‘My window.’ Not ‘A window.’ I have to go now. You have to take me or I’ll take myself.”

  Aaron could see another screaming fit coming and didn’t know whether to medicate her or let her have her way. Then Charlie knocked.

  “Charlie will take me,” she said, and bolted.

  Aaron followed. “We’ll both take you,” he said, well aware he couldn’t handle her by himself if she became hysterical again.

  “I need to go to the common room,” Ellie told Charlie.

  “I’ll come with you,” Aaron said.

  Charlie looked a little startled. “Yeah, sure, whatever you need,” but Ellie was already on the move. They had no option but to follow or get left behind.

  Aaron didn’t know what to expect, but when they got to the common room, it certainly wasn’t finding Luther Dunn standing beneath the window.

  “How did this happen?” Aaron muttered.

  Charlie frowned. “He’s not supposed to be here. Do you want me to take him back?”

  “No. We’re here because Ellie said God told her to come here. I just wasn’t expecting this,” Aaron said.

  Charlie paled. “He’s not God . . . is he?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then how come he’s here waiting for Ellie?”

  “We don’t know that’s why he’s here,” Aaron muttered.

  “Yes, we do.”

  Aaron glared. “And how do we know that?”

  “Because I just saw him say it to Ellie.”

  “You saw it?”

  Charlie nodded. “I read lips. He just said, ‘Welcome, Ellie. I’ve been waiting for you.’”

  Ellie walked straight up to Luther without hesitation. “I’m here.”

  “Welcome, Ellie. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Ellie shivered slightly, but stood her ground. “Are you God?”

  “Who I am is not important. I felt your pain.”

  Her chin quivered. “Sophie’s gone. I think she died.”

  Luther laid a hand on Ellie’s shoulder, and as he did, the hair on her arms suddenly stood on end. “Sophie isn’t dead. She’s in you.”

  Ellie’s eyes welled. “She can’t be in me. That would mean she wasn’t—”

  “Real? She was real to you, and at the time, that was all that mattered. But you know different now, don’t you, Ellie?”

  Ellie covered her face and shook her head, rejecting his words.

  “Look at me.”

  Ellie tried not to, but there was strength in more than his voice. She did as he asked and burned in the fire of his gaze.

  “Hear my words, Ellie Wayne. You will be well. You will be happy. You will be loved.”

  But Ellie needed it now. “Do you love me?”

  Luther smiled. “It doesn’t matter who loves you, Ellie. What matters is that you love yourself.”

  Ellie didn’t want to hear the hard stuff. She just wanted proof the easy way, like maybe a miracle before her eyes. “If you’re God, then tell me why the ghost baby cries all the time. Why won’t it leave me alone?”

  Luther laid a hand on the top of her head and briefly closed his eyes. “There is no ghost with you.”

  “But I hear it crying. It cries all the time in my head and won’t leave me alone.”

  “Have you cried, Ellie?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Why do you cry?”

  “When I’m sad. Sometimes when I’m mad. Sometimes when I’m afraid.”

  “But do you cry for yourself?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Do you? Do you weep for what you have endured?”

  “Not anymore.”

  Luther moved his hand from her head to the side of her face. “What you hear is not a ghost, but yourself . . . your inner child, crying for you when you do not cry for yourself.”

  Ellie shivered from the touch of his hand against her cheek. It filled her, and at the same time made her feel lacking in his presence. He said pretty words, but she wanted proof.

  “If you’re God, then make it go away.”

  Luther’s sigh was that of a parent whose child has just disappointed him. It enveloped her. “You are the only one who can make it go away.”

  “How?”

  “You give away your pain for others to feel, but the pain is yours. Claim it. When you can cry for yourself, you will be well with God.”

  “You don’t hate me?”

  Luther opened his arms.

  She walked into them. Peace enveloped her and with it came an unbearably beautiful light. She closed her eyes against the glow as it filled her—cherished her—cleansed her.

  Luther touched the top of her head once more. “You are heard. You are loved.” Then he walked away, passing by the two men at the door without making eye contact.

  Aaron was still struggling with the shock of watching Ellie accept Luther’s touch and walk into his open arms.

  “Make sure he gets back where he belongs,” Aaron said. “I’ll take Ellie to her room.”

  “Yes sir,” Charlie said, and followed Luther.

  Aaron waited for Ellie, but when she didn’t move, he went after her. “Ellie, it’s time to go.”

  When she turned, her expression was one of shock and disbelief. “God loves me, Doctor Tyler.”

  Aaron frowned. “Is that what Luther said, that he loved you?”

  “I have to claim my pain. I have to face my fears. I have to cry. That will be the hardest.”

  “He said that?”

  She sighed. “I’m hungry. Can I go back to my room?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “If I’m not there, will they still leave breakfast?”

  “I’m sure they will, but if they don’t, I’ll bring you some myself.”

  “Thank you,” Ellie said, as she followed Aaron out of the room.

  They had walked in silence for only a short distance when he heard a sob and realized she was crying.

  “See, you’re already crying and you said that would be the hardest.”

  Ellie frowned as she shook her head at him and again, he realized he had failed her in some way. “I’m crying because Sophie is dead. I still hear the crying baby, and we need to hurry or Cinnamon will eat all my bacon.”

  “I don’t understand. What other kind of crying is there?”

  “I never cry for me. He said I had to quit giving everyone else my pain and cry for myself. When I do that, the baby will go away.”

  Aaron felt like Alice who’d fallen down the rabbit hole. Up was down and down was up and he was forever late in trying to keep up with Ellie Wayne’s brain. “Why will that make the baby disappear?”

  Ellie sighed. “Because the baby is me. He said it was my inner child, and that it cries for me because I won’t cry for myself.”

  The logic was so brilliant that it stopped Aaron cold. “Luther said that?”

  “Yes. Tell everyone I’m very sorry for causing such a scene. I saw
Momma when she was dead and I didn’t cry. But I need to go cry for Sophie, even if I can’t see her again.”

  She walked in her room, checked the table for her food and pointed. There were still tears on her cheeks. “My breakfast tray is here and so is the bacon.”

  “Okay. So I’ll see you later this afternoon in the common room.”

  Ellie didn’t answer.

  He quietly closed the door and walked away, refusing to dwell on what he’d seen or that the advice Luther just gave Ellie was as good, even better than what he might have said.

  It was somewhat daunting to know there was a delusional patient dispensing very good advice. He didn’t know whether to worry that he kept missing the connection with Ellie, or be grateful that someone had finally gotten through to her.

  At the other end of the long corridor, Charlie saw Luther to his room.

  “So Luther, is there anything you need before I go?”

  Luther paused then turned around. “Your tire is going flat.”

  “What? My tire is—?” Charlie took a deep breath, then turned around and left the room.

  Luther sat down at the table, removed the cover from his plate of food and began to eat.

  Out in the parking lot, Charlie had already taken the spare from the trunk of his car. He didn’t want to think about how Luther had known this. He was just glad he knew it now instead of at quitting time.

  Ellie ate the bacon, but couldn’t down anything more. Her heart was broken and her world was out of control. She knew what she was supposed to do, but knowing and doing were two entirely different projects.

  She tried one last time to call Sophie to her, but it was to no avail, and that baby’s wails, while faint, were constant. She crawled back into bed, pulled the covers up over her head and cried herself to sleep.

  Cinnamon sat on one side of the bed and Wyatt on the other, keeping watch over Ellie. They knew, like Sophie, that their time was growing shorter. And unlike other alters who had no desire to leave, they both loved Ellie too much to demand their existence continue beyond her need.

  “I wonder what it will feel like?” Cinnamon asked.

  Wyatt frowned. “It? It what?”

  “Dying.”

  He shrugged.