The Night Orchid

by M. G. Hernandez

  There’s a gut-wrenching interview of her parents and words of love from her classmates. The last paragraph is a comment from Mr. Cunningham on Alexa being a stellar student in his English class.

  Suddenly, there’s a knock, making me hide my vape and Sploofy in my drawer. What the hell? My parents are usually in bed by now. It’s 10:15. The impatient knocking persists, and I stand from my desk while putting drops on my eyes and spraying the room with a deodorizer.

  When I finally open my door, my mother and father are standing outside my room. I arch my brow. “Uh, hi. What are you guys doing here?”

  My father huffs. “We own this house—including your room, so you shouldn’t be asking what we’re doing in our property.”

  When they move past me, I roll my eyes. It’s always a power play with these two. I turn around and sit on my bed. They stay standing—grim reapers, ready to collect my soul. I rub my neck as I’m getting nervous.

  My mother narrows her eyes at me and then it returns to normal. “Our own investigation proved fruitful. The ward clerk at the Glen Park Residential Treatment Center sang like a canary this morning and traced it back to the Peters and Wall family who bribed him with thousands of dollars to release information about you.”

  My eyes widen. Bianca and George.

  “We were going to press charges, and file a lawsuit, but Judge Peters and Mayor Wall intervened. They both agreed to settle out of court. And trust me, they’re going to pay a hefty sum for this, and they’re willing to cooperate.”

  I arch my brow in suspicion. “That was way too easy. We’re talking about two of the most powerful families in Wakefield crumbling and admitting to guilt. What’s the catch?”

  My father smirks. “You forget who your father is. I was the one who performed the emergency bypass surgery on Judge Peters when he had that heart attack two years ago. I saved his life, and he has never forgotten it. Considering incriminating evidence, plus his gratitude, he took our side over his daughter’s.”

  “And Mayor Wall is running for re-election and would rather nip this in the bud than make this bigger. He wants no negative press on him that may affect his votes. It doesn’t hurt either that we have one of the best lawyers in Sacramento. Thanks to your grandfather.”

  I nod. Clearly, I’m impressed. Then, my mother leans back on the table and crosses her arms. “Which brings us to the next part of our agenda.”

  I take a deep breath. This is the part that’s making me nervous. I know my parents aren’t here to have a chitchat with me.

  “You’re too much of a liability. And the attention you’ve garnered is problematic and unnecessary. Though, we’ve done damage control, you brought light to a skeleton in the closet that we didn’t want discovered. Our pristine reputation is on the line now that they know we have someone in our bloodline with schizophrenia.”

  I look at her in shock. I’m obviously not the crazy one in this family. “Why are you blaming me? I told no one about this. I wasn’t the one who plastered my business on everyone’s lockers!”

  “Like I said, you’re a liability. I’ve spoken to your grandparents. You’re leaving for the Philippines this Saturday. Your absence can erase this glaring reminder of your dysfunction. Without you, our family may have a chance of reemerging unscathed and they will forget this scandal much faster.”

  I look at her gobsmacked. My heart is beating a million miles a minute and my jaw hangs to the floor.

  She leans forward towards me, arms still crossed. “Don’t even think about protesting, either. We found out the motives behind the judge’s daughter’s actions. Why am I not surprised that you got involved in a love triangle between that Taylor boy and her?”

  My eyes widen, and my heart sinks. Now, I’m afraid she’s going to make good on her threat that she’s going to incriminate Julian. “Please, leave him alone.”

  “So you’re admitting you’re having a relationship with him.” She sneers at me and my father laughs. “Hussy,” she hisses. “You’re definitely cut from the same cloth.”

  My head snaps in her direction. Suddenly, my fear turns to anger. “Cut from Aunty Helen’s cloth? Is that who you mean, Aunty Ella?” Both my parents look at me in shock, and I laugh. “You’re not my actual parents, are you? And I’d rather be a hussy than come from your womb and end up like you!”

  She slaps me, and I yelp at the sting of her hand. But the dam breaks, and I can’t stop myself. “Fuck you and your rules. I hate you both, and I’d rather die than have you send me to my grandparents.”

  Knowing the consequences of my sass, I push off the mattress and run for the door. But my father catches me around the waist, and I’m yanked backwards. I struggle to let myself loose and by now I’m kicking and screaming. But my father’s grip, despite his ailing health, is still strong. “Ella, get the IM!”

  I watch my mother run out the door. Meanwhile, I continue to fight. “Let me go!” I dig my fingers on my father’s to pry his hands off me. “This is fucking abuse! You can’t restrain me!”

  As I scream, I’m flailing my arms trying to disarm him and I continue to kick. But he remains rock solid, and he keeps me at bay. Meanwhile, my mother returns and hurriedly comes to my father’s aid.

  “Get her to the bed, Richard!”

  “Don’t you come near me! Let me go!”

  “Hurry, Richard!”

  Suddenly, my father picks me up and drops me onto the bed. With the help of my mother, he turns me around, so my face is planted onto the mattress. He plasters himself over me, trapping me under him. Then, he takes my arms over my head and grabs hold of my wrists. I scream, but he covers my mouth to muffle my voice. “Stop moving,” he hisses. “This is for your own good.”

  “No, it’s not! Get away from me!” I try to say, but it’s muffled by my father’s palm. Suddenly, my mother’s hands land on the garter of my pajama bottoms. My eyes widen. No, no, no, no!

  She tugs it down as I cry. I know that she’s holding a two inch, 21-gauge needle and in a matter of seconds, she’s going to inject my buttocks with Haldol to calm me. Suddenly, I’m eight again and back in a white-walled building, held captive by men in blue scrubs while a pale, wiry doctor injects me with the same medication my mother is administering now.

  “You’re sick, Josephine,” she said, calmly. “You think your actual mother can handle your psychosis and your aggression? You need health professionals, my dear girl. You need a nurse and a doctor as parents. You need us.”

  I scream, but my voice remains muffled. Then a pinch on my skin makes my world close in, sending darkness to fall.

  Chapter 57

  Josephine

  Something is wrong. My heart hurts, and my lungs refuse to draw air. I close my eyes, trying to remember how it was when I was eight, but I don’t recall feeling this much pain. Right now, I can’t speak and breathe. I’m clutching my chest as this incredible agony sears me to the brink of tears. My mother’s panicked face and my father’s worried one, hovers above mine. He’s saying incomprehensible words. My sight blurs and it’s not long after when my vision tunnels. The last I hear is my mom’s stricken voice.

  “Richard, call 911 now!”

  ***

  I’m jolted awake as if someone punched me in the gut, and I gasp for air. My eyes flutter and the first thing I notice is that I can breathe. Relief has me sitting up and getting up off the floor. I detect a peculiar buoyancy to my step as I half walk and half float. My head turns, and I furrow my brows. I see myself lying on the ground with my mother pumping my chest. Then she stops and places her mouth on mine. My chest rises twice and when it rests, she continues to pump it with her hands. Meanwhile, my father is on my side and on the phone. I shrug. My indifference makes me stride to the doorway and leave this curious scene.

  When I step outside, I notice the empty street and the deserted homes. The neighborhood is still except for the swirling dead leaves riding the breeze. I am alone, but I close the door behind me without hesitation. I place
my hands in my pockets as a gust of wind engulfs me, but I continue to stroll unbothered. Interestingly enough, I don’t know where I’m headed, and yet I walk.

  A flash distracts me, and I see a spectacular luminescence. It’s the most awe-inspiring tunnel of light I’ve ever seen—golden, sparkly, and mesmerizing. As I draw nearer, the glow reaches me and bathes me with its warmth. The ray of sunshine makes me smile, and I run towards it. That’s where I need to be. Then someone behind me calls my name. She is lovely, petite and young with long black hair. “Alexa?”

  She nods and walks over to me. I watch her in awe. No longer bloodied and beaten, she’s fresh and as real as the midday sun. But her face looks troubled. When she stops in front of me, I ask, “Why am I still seeing you?”

  “Josephine,” she said, her voice taking me aback. Her sound is deeper than I imagined. I expected her to echo Bianca’s tone. “That light is not for you.”

  “Are you sure? It appeared when I got here.”

  She ignores my question. “Listen, I have little time. I want to thank you and Ian for finding me. Tell him, also, that he and I are fine. He was a good friend to me, no matter what he thinks. And let Bianca know that I forgive her. And lastly, tell Brandon that I love him and to trust the process.”

  My head swivels to the tunnel. “Another medium will have to deliver your messages because I’m not returning.”

  But she continues. “You’re not done with your life, Josephine. You can’t stay and that’s a good thing.”

  I turn, but her hand catches my wrist, forcing me to face her again. “Listen, I have to tell you something else. I need to give you a warning.”

  “What?”

  “Be careful. He is not what he seems.”

  “Who?”

  “Brian. He’s coming for you, and he will not let you go.”

  “Who is he?”

  But she ignores me, her body language becoming urgent as she grips my wrist. “He has been following you for a while now, but you haven’t noticed. Never leave yourself alone with him.”

  I shake my head. I don’t understand, but I glance at the shell of a house that used to be my home. “Thanks for the warning, but you won’t have to worry about me. I’m leaving that life behind.”

  She panics as I continue to walk towards the light. She calls me, but I ignore her. As I near the brightness, I see another familiar figure, and I stop. A tall, slender Filipino man stands between me and my destination. His hair is black and shoulder length with long curls, giving him a nice wavy fringe. I remember him from a vision I had while drowning in that raging river at the Mission Forest.

  “It’s you again. Who are you?”

  He curves his lips in a smile. “You’ll know soon enough. Ask about me when you return.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not returning.”

  He smiles and walks towards me. Then he stops in front of me, forcing me to study him. He looks only twenty—a handsome one with smooth caramel skin. His kind brown eyes remind me of a nice mug of hot chocolate. Then he places his hands on my cheeks. “My little Joey. But you’re not so little anymore, are you? You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.” Then he kisses me on the forehead. “But as much as I want you near me, go home, baby.”

  I shake my head. “No, don’t tell me. I won’t listen.”

  He laughs. “You have no choice, Joey. It’s not yet your time.”

  And with that, gravity pulls and tugs me while an electric shock causes me to convulse. “No! I have to stay with you!”

  Everything around me blurs, and I’m catapulted off the ground. Traveling in lightning speed without scraping the cement, it’s a complete mind trip, but I guess I’m in for the ride. Finally, it stops and I land on something hard. I wince in pain.

  The beeping noises, unfamiliar voices and hands on my body, make me panic. I open my eyes, but they are so heavy. Then a booming, male voice shouts, “We have a heartbeat!” I hear excited chatter and sighs of relief.

  And that’s the last thing I remember before I return to deep slumberland.

  Chapter 58

  Julian

  I sprint towards the parking lot as soon as the bell rings. It’s 2:30 pm and school just ended. I weave through the throngs of students, ignoring my classmates who wanted to chat. My mom texted me five minutes ago, stating that Jo woke up from her sedation. I’m skipping swim practice today, and I’m sure they’ll understand.

  As I drive off, Jo’s face pops in my head. I haven’t slept since I saw her getting wheeled off on a gurney into the ambulance. She was lying still while an automated CPR machine, attached to her body, performs chest compressions. Her parents were right behind her in a state of grief.

  I’m triggered by the memory of her pale, lifeless body, and it paralyzed me. I almost lost her twice during our hike in the Mission Forest, but she was never unconscious. Biting my lip, I try to quell the emotions threatening to overcome me. I never want to witness her face ashen and her arms limp, hanging off the gurney.

  But after they closed the ambulance door, my adrenaline surged and energized me. I broke into a run to get my car. Following close behind, I realized they wouldn’t entertain me because I wasn’t immediate family, but it didn’t matter. I had to be near her.

  They admitted her at Wakefield Hospital, and I stayed there in the lobby, alternating between pacing and eating my fingernails to the nail bed. Her parents were there, but they were too shocked to acknowledge me. This worked well in my favor because they didn’t shoo me out.

  They didn’t speak to me, either, so after an hour, I was still oblivious to Jo’s situation. But I was nearby when the doctor finally told them they will admit her to the ICU. Her ordeal completely knocked her out, but she was stable. I could only get snippets from their hushed conversations. But based on what I had seen, her heart had stopped. But why?

  After they sent her to the ICU, I came home because they would never let me visit her. At least, I knew she was fine. But I never slept. I watched her favorite movie, Pride and Prejudice, for comfort, and I ate popcorn.

  When dawn came, I ran downstairs as soon as I heard mom in the kitchen. She saw the grief on my face, which alarmed her. I told her everything from Jo’s return to school to when we became a couple. Then, I told her how I ended in the hospital last night. I watched my mother’s expressions transition from confusion to shock to worry. It was overwhelming to take in one sitting, and she had lots of questions. I answered them until I started begging her to keep me in the loop.

  As luck would have it, they assigned my mother to Joy this morning. So here I am now, speeding along Washington street to make my way to Wakefield Hospital. I have so many unanswered questions, and my mind is going crazy.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m hurrying to the lobby and up the elevator to the sixth floor where the intensive care unit is located. I know this hospital by heart, so I’m able to find it easily. As soon as I exit the elevator, my mother comes into view and she’s talking to a female RN at the nurse’s station.

  “Mom.” I call out to her as I get nearer.

  She and her young nurse turn towards my direction. Her companion eyes me and primps herself by brushing her hair with her fingers. My mother notices and gives her a pointed look, which makes her blush and scurry away.

  “What are you doing here?” She scowls at me as she places her clipboard on the counter.

  “I came because you told me to.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t remember telling you that.”

  “Sure, you do.”

  “Julian.” She gives me a warning tone. “You know you’re not supposed to be here. Immediate family only.”