by Sharon Sala
“Are you scared?”
“I’m scared for Ellie,” Wyatt said.
“We just won’t leave until we’re sure she can handle life on her own.”
“Right.”
“In the meantime, what can we do to help her grieve for Sophie?”
“According to Luther, we need to quit helping her, right? She has to learn how to grieve and heal on her own.”
“Wyatt. That’s brilliant.”
“I have my moments.”
“That you do, my brother . . . that you do.”
“I’m not your brother.”
Cin laughed. “In a manner of speaking, yes you are. We’re all a part of Ellie, so that makes us kin.”
“Shit. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse.”
Had anyone been passing in the hall outside Ellie’s room, they might have thought it strange to hear laughter coming from a place that, only an hour earlier, had been a place of despair.
Chapter Twenty-Six
December—Christmas Week
There was an eight-foot Christmas tree in the common room and garlands of green plastic ivy and pine boughs that had been draped around doorways and up and down halls. Every six feet or so, a staff member had fastened a red bow into the garlands, giving the corridor leading to and from the room a very festive appearance.
A group of women from the local ladies auxiliary had made little red stockings for the patients so that every door had a stocking with the patient’s first name, painted in glitter, hanging on the doorknob.
The staff seemed to have taken on a bit of their patients’ mania in an effort to keep the holiday intact for the people within. A craft table had been set up, and during their free time every day there was an inordinate amount of coloring and gluing. If something needed cutting, a local crafter who’d volunteered to help with the project was there with a pair of scissors she carried in her pocket for such instances.
Ellie wasn’t much into glitter and glue, and she understood the need to curb sharp objects, but it was kindergarten all over again. Then, the teacher hadn’t trusted them with scissors, and here she was now, a brand-new high-school graduate, and back to the “no scissors” rule. If her situation had not been so frustrating, she might have laughed. She spent a good portion of her free time sitting in front of Luther’s window, talking to God. She had yet to offer up another prayer, but Ellie was evolving.
Now the common room was in an uproar. A squabble had just erupted between two women at the craft table over a bottle of gold glitter glue. One wanted it for her craft project. The other one wanted it to paint her fingernails.
Wanda Buford was a thirty-seven-year-old bottle-blonde divorcée with two teenage kids at home who drove her crazy. She looked a little like Meryl Streep with a Chelsea Handler personality. She’d volunteered to organize the crafts at Mind and Body, thinking she would be getting a break from the ongoing drama at home, but after fifty-five minutes with twenty patients, she was wishing she’d stayed home and baked sugar cookies.
Working with people who were short on reality and long on mania was harder than she’d expected. She had a piece of green felt taped to her butt where a pocket should be, and a red felt bow glued to her bleached blonde hair because one of the patients wanted it there, and she’d been too afraid to tell her no. She kept watching the clock, praying for her last hour to soon be over.
Across the room, Ellie was at the window chasing sunlight. She scooted her chair a little to the south to catch a better angle on the rays coming through the window, and when she was satisfied with where she was sitting, made herself ignore the crying baby and settled in to discuss her latest concern.
I hope you’re not busy, God, because I have something I want to talk to you about. Every time I look in the mirror, and I do this quite often to brush my hair or my teeth, all I see is Ellie Wayne, the victim.
Dr. Tyler says I’m progressing, but I’m not so sure. Back home, I wore my hair a certain way because Daddy liked it that way. I didn’t wear any makeup for the longest time because of the same reason. Sometimes I wear lipstick now, but it’s almost gone and I can’t go to the pharmacy to buy more, and my hair just keeps getting longer and longer. I feel like I’m stuck in a time warp. If I changed my appearance, would it change me inside as well?
She closed her eyes and waited.
Moments later, she heard a voice, but it wasn’t from God. It was Wanda, the craft volunteer. “Ellie? That’s your name, right? Wouldn’t you like to come to the craft table and make something?”
Ellie answered without opening her eyes. “No thank you, Wanda, I would not.”
“Why not, sugar? It’s lots of fun.”
“I don’t have any friends or family, therefore I have no need to make a gift. Now if you don’t mind, I need to be quiet. I’m waiting for a message from God.”
Wanda stared for a moment, wondering what had happened to such a pretty young girl to make her so dad-blamed nutty. But since she didn’t know how to rebut a statement like that, she took herself back to the glitter glue and pieces of felt.
Ellie sighed. “Sorry about that, God. It was Wanda, but she’s gone. About my appearance—?”
Change is growth.
Ellie smiled. “Thank you, God. That’s how I felt. I’ll let you know how it goes.” She got up and headed for the craft table.
An older man named Dewey, who had a tendency to walk around with his fly unzipped because he claimed it all needed airing it out, had discovered the red felt bows. He decided one of them would make a good zipper pull and was trying to glue it onto the zipper in the fly of his pants. Wanda had already called for an aide and was on the verge of tears.
Ellie could see she was in something of a state, so instead of bothering her by asking for the scissors, she just took them out of Wanda’s apron pocket and walked out of the room.
Wanda missed the scissors within a couple of minutes and let out a shriek that brought both nurses and aides running. “My scissors. They’re gone,” she screamed.
Her panic sent the room into an uproar as the search for scissors began.
In the meantime, Ellie had gone back to her room, then into the bathroom. She left the scissors on the counter while she went to look for something to put up her ponytail. After she found a ponytail band, she brushed all her hair into a topknot at the crown of her head and fastened it off.
At that point, Cin came in. “Hey. New hairdo? You look kinda like the I-Dream-of-Jeannie girl on Nickelodeon.”
Ellie turned sideways, then faced front again.
“Kind of . . . at least the hair does . . . What are you going to do?” Cin asked.
Ellie picked up the scissors. “Make a change.”
Cin shrieked, but it was too late.
Ellie was already making a cut through her hair about three inches above the band. The scissors weren’t meant for hairstyling and Ellie’s hair was thick, but she didn’t give up. Eventually, long lengths of it began to fall at her heels and when she was done, there was more hair on the floor than she had left on her head.
Cin groaned. “You have ruined your hair. Now they’ll for sure think you’re crazy.”
Ellie undid the rubber band and then finger-combed her hair back into place. It fell around her face in a wispy, pixie look that made her smile.
Cin’s despair turned to glee. “Holy crap, Elizabeth Ann, that’s actually cute.”
Ellie smirked.
“How did you know to do that?” Cin asked.
“One of those makeover shows on TV.”
“Now you need some makeup.”
“All I have is lipstick.”
“I have some mascara and eye shadow.”
Ellie frowned. “Have you been holding out on me?”
“No. I didn’t know you wanted makeup.”
“I have to make a change,” Ellie said.
“Who said?”
“God said change is growth. I need to grow to get better to get out of her
e.”
Cin said nothing in return, which for her, was unusual.
“What?” Ellie asked.
“Nothing. Are you looking forward to leaving here?”
“Yes. Aren’t you?”
Cin laughed, but it was a very happy sound. “Honey, it’s not up to me. You’re the one with too many people living in your head. The sooner we’re gone, the sooner you’re out of here.”
Ellie froze. “But—”
“No buts. The bottom line is you have to let go of us to get out.”
Ellie’s eyes filled with tears. “Why do I have to give up the only things that were ever good in my life to be free?”
“Oh, sugar . . . do you hear what you just said? Do you know how sad that is to hear?”
“Yes, I heard myself, but I don’t know what you mean.”
“If Wyatt and I are the only things you consider good about your life, and we’re not real, then what does that say about you?”
Ellie suddenly shivered. “That there’s nothing good in my life?”
“Pretty much, but there can be good things you have yet to discover only you can’t find them in here.”
“I don’t want to lose you and Wyatt.”
“You can’t lose what’s inside you.”
Ellie sat down on the toilet seat and thought about what Cinnamon had said. It was frightening, but at the same time she wanted out. She didn’t belong in here with old crazy people. She needed to go to college and figure out what she wanted out of life for herself—not have doctors who knew nothing about her telling her what to do.
“I have to take the scissors back,” Ellie said.
Cin poked a toe in the hair. “Tell someone to send housekeeping back to clean up this floor, too.”
“I will.”
Ellie gave herself a last careful look, then picked up the scissors and went to find Wanda.
When Ellie got back to the common room, Wanda was bawling and the nurses were frisking every patient personally before they were allowed to leave.
She walked past the line of patients waiting at the door, then over to where Wanda sat and laid the scissors down at her elbow. Wanda registered the haircut before she saw the scissors, and broke out into an even louder wail.
Ellie frowned. “I only borrowed them, and I brought them back the minute I was through with them.”
Wanda’s mascara was running as she grabbed the scissors, stuffed them in her purse and headed for the door, pausing only long enough to deliver the news. “I have my scissors back. I hope all of you have a Merry Christmas, but I won’t be able to return to finish our little projects.”
The staff began talking at once. “Who . . . where did you—”
Wanda pointed at Ellie, then clutched her purse against her chest and headed for the nearest exit. She was actually looking forward to getting home to her kids. They were looking better to her by the minute and they no longer ate glue, which was more than she could say for some of the residents here.
However, Ellie’s troubles had just begun.
The head nurse, a twelve-year veteran of the hospital who went by Nurse Jolly, which Ellie privately thought was a misnomer, grabbed Ellie’s arm and yanked. “Did you take Miss Wanda’s scissors?”
“You’re hurting me,” Ellie said. “Daddy hurt me and Wyatt killed him.”
Nurse Jolly got the message and released her, but didn’t back down. “About the scissors you stole.”
“That’s not true. They were borrowed, not stolen,” Ellie said and pointed to her own head. “How do you like my new look?”
The nurse wasn’t having it. “You are in trouble, Ellie Wayne.”
Ellie’s delight quickly shifted to anger. “Why?”
“You stole something that didn’t belong to you.”
Ellie looked at Nurse Jolly as if she’d just lost her mind, then looked around at the others for a familiar face. It turned out to be Charlie. “Charlie, can you come here a minute? I need your help.”
“Nice hairdo,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Nurse Jolly is hard of hearing like Sophie was. I’ve told her twice now that I didn’t steal Wanda’s scissors, but she can’t hear me. I borrowed them to make my new look. I’m supposed to be changing. Dr. Tyler said so, and God told me growth was change and change is good. So I was only doing what God and Dr. Tyler told me. Can you explain that to Nurse Jolly and tell her I’m sorry she can’t hear good anymore. Tell her she needs to get a hearing aid, or she’ll just disappear like Sophie did.”
Charlie grinned. “Yeah, sure kid, I’ll tell her.”
Ellie beamed. “Thank you.” She waved at Nurse Jolly and then yelled, “Charlie will explain. Have a nice day.”
Ellie could hear people laughing as she walked out. Momma always said the holidays were good for making even the cranky people glad. Momma was right about that.
She dawdled on the way back to her room, wanting to be somewhere and let people see that she was different. Maybe if they recognized the change, it would make her feel it stronger.
She thought about showing Dr. Tyler, but she wasn’t his only patient and he might be busy. She wasn’t allowed to go to his office alone anyway, so that idea was discarded.
Then Luther popped into her head. She stopped in the hall and closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure this would work without the window, but she thought she’d give it a try.
Want to see how I’m changing?
She stood there for a good three minutes without moving, and then opened her eyes to see Luther coming toward her. Without thinking, she stood a little straighter and smiled at him. Luther saw the smile and the haircut and rejoiced in the change he was seeing in her.
“You heard me, didn’t you?” Ellie asked.
Luther smiled.
Ellie was almost dancing from one foot to the other. “What do you think?
He knew she meant her hair, but it was the light in her eyes that gave him joy. “You are glowing.”
Ellie did a three-sixty turn so he could see it all. “I did it myself. Scared Cinnamon, too. She thought I’d ruined it.”
“You scared her? Now that truly is a change.”
Ellie laughed out loud. “You’re right about that.”
She kept talking, unaware she was turning into the lively chatterbox that Cinnamon had been, or that when the transformation was complete, Cinnamon would be gone.
“Ellie.”
“Yes?”
“Have you forgiven yourself yet?”
Her smile slid sideways as she looked away. “I don’t think about it.”
“That’s not change. That’s hiding. You can’t change if you don’t come out of hiding.”
All of a sudden, her lack of hair had taken a backseat to another truth and it seemed she hadn’t done all that much growing after all.
“Don’t be sad, Ellie. Don’t hide what hurt you. Take it out into the light and beat it into so many pieces that it will never be a whole pain again.”
“Into the light?”
“Yes, and until you do that, your father is still controlling you.”
Ellie frowned. “But Daddy’s dead.”
Luther laid a hand on her head. “Not in here, he’s not.” He pointed to her heart. “And not in there, he’s not. You’re holding onto everything that had to do with him.”
All of a sudden, Ellie got it. Her eyes welled and her chin began to quiver. “You’re not just talking about the memories of what Daddy did, are you? You’re talking about Wyatt and Cinnamon, because they are a huge part of that life. You’re telling me I have to let them go, too.”
“Do you see? Already you understand that without me saying the words. Do the work, Ellie. I can’t do it for you.”
He cupped her cheek lightly then ran his forefinger down the side of her hair. “The change is good. What’s next?”
Ellie watched him walk away. He was all the way down at the far end of the hall before it dawned on her that she hadn’t said good-bye. And no
sooner had she thought it, than she heard him.
No need for good-byes.
Her heart thumped. She watched him walk into his room and then he was gone.
Ellie’s steps were slower as she returned to her own room. There was a note on the door from Dr. Tyler, but she didn’t bother to read it. Dr. Tyler talked around her problems and wanted her to guess what he was getting at and figure them out for herself. Luther didn’t waste time with all that. He just laid them out and told her to fix them.
It was action versus reaction.
She liked action best.
Wyatt showed up right after lunch. When he saw Ellie, he freaked. “Cinnamon, what the hell did you do to Ellie’s hair?”
Ellie frowned. “Don’t yell at her. I did this.”
Wyatt couldn’t believe it. “Are you kidding?”
“No, I’m not. What’s so shocking about it? I got tired of looking in the mirror and seeing Daddy’s victim.”
Understanding quickly surfaced. “Oh.”
Cin gave Ellie a hug. “She’s growing, Wyatt . . . by leaps and bounds.”
“I see that.” He ruffled his fingers through the short length and grinned. “Good job.”
She sighed. She and Wyatt had been through so much together. It mattered that he approve. “I’m going to free time. You guys coming?”
They looked at each other then shrugged. “We might show up later.”
“Okay. See ya.’”
As soon as she was gone, Wyatt’s expression went from smiles to shock. “What the hell?”
“She’s getting well, Wyatt.” Cin had already experienced the revelation a day or so earlier. “It’s what we want for her, right?”
He shoved his hands through his hair then dropped onto the bed. “We don’t have much time left, do we?”
“No, and in the words of our inimitable Dr. Tyler, ‘how does that make you feel’?”
Wyatt shuddered. “Scared.”
“Me too.”
“I never really thought about this before.”
Cin sat down beside him. “I can only imagine. You’ve been with her for so long. I’m the new kid on the blockhead, and by the way, that was meant to be funny.”
