The Inner Movement

by Brandt Legg

  “Yeah, but they’re not flying or anything,” Kyle joked. “Ever hear about the boy who cried wolf?”

  “I know. I’m a mess,” I said, looking at the ground feeling sorry for myself.

  “Don’t worry.” Linh hugged me. “I’m good at cleaning up messes.”

  Dinner was around the campfire, eating more great food from the Station.

  “I just don’t understand how the Old Man disappeared, how he wasn’t in the photo. None of it makes sense,” Linh said.

  “A taste of what I deal with daily,” I said, adding wood to the fire. It was getting cold and dark. Stars glittered.

  Kyle heated up some water and squeezed in a couple of lemons. “To best friends and the hope that our journey is good,” he said. We all touched metal cups. “And now, you meditate.” He pointed at me. Kyle and I went off to find spots. Linh stayed by the fire, writing in her journal. I found a friendly feeling fir and sat on its bed of needles, cleared my mind fairly easily, and was still for half an hour. The moment I came out of my meditation, Linh looked up from her journal and smiled at me.

  Any meaning held in the things from Dad’s desk still eluded us. Just before dark we laid out our sleeping bags in the tent, with Linh between Kyle and me. She always smelled of lavender, and I enjoyed being next to her. We talked briefly about our plan for the morning. The river’s mesmerizing churning took us quickly to sleep. My final thoughts were wishing Amber had been able to come with us.

  19

  Beams of light broke through the night. Snapping twigs and voices—someone was coming. I slid out of my bag and unzipped the tent flap. Figures were weaving among the trees, but it was hard to know how many. They were getting closer. I slipped on my shoes, leaving Linh and Kyle asleep. The fire was just a cluster of glowing coals, but there was a moon and I could be seen. A light crossed my face and one yelled, “There he is!” I took off, looking for cover in the foliage and hoping they would follow and leave my friends alone. The river was louder and more violent than before. I sprinted along the now high and steep bank. Bullets ricocheted off the trees ahead, my adrenaline surged. They were trying to kill me; they were going to kill me.

  Dogs barked. “How did they find me? Where can I go?” The river was raging, lights flashed all around, and heavy steps pounded through leaves. I dashed into the dense forest and left the thundering water behind. I was trying to dodge trees, but branches and undergrowth whipped and slashed my face and body. Backtracking toward the tent, I looked back more than ahead. Suddenly a tree limb smacked my shoulder hard and knocked me off my feet. I landed on an elbow but somehow didn’t yell out in pain; instead I laid on the ground, catching my breath and tried to figure out where I was and where they were. The dogs were louder.

  I ran again, wanting to reach Kyle and Linh and the car. A crushing blow slammed into my waist from what felt like a two-by-four. “You thought you could escape?” he spit.

  I was unable to move and could only see his silhouette. “Who are you?”

  He laughed. “You’re full of surprises. Too bad you’ve forgotten the name of the man who is going to kill you.” He raised a rifle, put it to my forehead, and pulled the trigger.

  I heard Kyle yelling, “Linh, over here.” A noise had woken them, and they discovered I wasn’t in the tent. It took ten minutes to find me. “Are you hurt?”

  “I thought I was dead. He shot me.” My head felt split in half.

  “You’ve been shot? Where? Should I get help?”

  It was morning. Kyle came into focus. I checked my body—quite a few scrapes and cuts, and my left shoulder and elbow were tender. No gunshot wound. “I was sure he shot me.”

  “Who? Nate, are you all right?”

  “I think so.” I was trying to put the pieces together.

  “Is he okay?” Linh was there now.

  “He thinks someone shot him but can’t find where.”

  “Did you check him?” she asked. “The noise that woke us sounded like a gunshot.”

  “I’m okay, I think it was an Outview on steroids. People were after me, like it was happening right now.” I rolled over, my voice strained. “It just didn’t seem like an Outview. I can’t believe I’m alive.”

  Kyle helped me up. I saw him and Linh exchange concerned glances. They packed up camp. We didn’t talk for the first twenty minutes of the drive. I was torn between times, hunted, haunted, and bewildered.

  20

  Saturday, September 20

  It only took forty-five minutes to reach Mountain View Psychiatric Hospital. I shook off the Outview as best I could. It was nothing compared with what Dustin was going through. Nonfamily members had to be at least sixteen to visit, and Linh said she didn’t mind waiting in the car. Just before eight, we were done signing in and directed to a very nice outdoor courtyard, where flowers and wood benches were drenched in morning sun. A few minutes later, Dustin entered from a door opposite us, gaunt and aged. He’d always seemed so much taller than me and at six-one still was, but now he seemed small somehow. We hugged. “Nate, you’ve been growing. Not sure I can call you my little brother anymore.”

  He remembered Kyle.

  “You look good,” I lied. For the first time he was skinnier than me, sickly.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “No, really. And this place is nothing like I pictured. You know, it’s almost tranquil.”

  “Yeah, it’s a real goddamned vacation resort. Should I see if they have any vacancies? You all want to check in for a couple of years?”

  “Sorry, all I meant was I was expecting it to look like a prison.”

  “Don’t be too disappointed, it’s worse. At least in prison your mind is free. Here, they lock up my brain every day with meds that are stronger than iron bars.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing. You didn’t put me here.”

  “How much time do we have until they drug you up again?”

  “About forty minutes. So you better tell me why after two years you finally got brave enough to disobey Mom and show up.” His voice was weaker than his words.

  “I know you’re not crazy, and we need to figure this all out.”

  “I’m not crazy now because it’s happening to you too, right?”

  “Something like that.”

  “How do you know you’re not crazy, Nate?”

  Kyle scrunched his face but didn’t want to get in the middle of this.

  “I thought I was for a while, but now I think that you and I have some ability to connect with the other side, like maybe the voices we hear are from dead people or guides. And somehow we can see into our past lives, you know, reincarnation.” His lips were moving at the same time I spoke, mouthing the words a split second before I said them. “Do you know what I’m saying before I say it?” I demanded.

  “Only an instant before. How could you tell?”

  “Your lips are moving.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize.”

  “That’s cool. Kyle, watch his lips while I talk. Can you do it with other people, too?”

  “Yeah, as long as I’m not on Epidol, Sciliden, Kaperdane, Dardax or any of the other chemical-cocktails-from-hell they force feed me.”

  “So, what do you think about my theory?”

  “Nate, where were you two years ago? Of course I know this stuff. I get about seventy minutes of clarity every morning and that adds up to a lot of time to think over a period of two years. And I’ve had a little help, too. Aunt Rose comes to visit at least once a week.”

  “Does Mom know?”

  “Of course not. You know Mom was never a fan of Rose but then, with what happened at Dad’s funeral . . . Well, let’s just say Mom told her she wasn’t welcome in her boys’ lives anymore.”

  “I never did know what happened, just that they had some big fight or something.”

  “Mom sure has worked hard at protecting you. The way Rose tells it, she told Mom that Dad had been murdered. Not something you should spring on a w
idow with two kids at a funeral. Anyway, she didn’t stop there, she warned Mom that you and I were going to develop psychic powers, and it would be much easier on us if Rose taught and tutored us through it.”

  “How did she know all this?”

  “She’s psychic, too.”

  “Of course she is,” Kyle said.

  “Maybe not the best one,” Dustin said with a chuckle. “Not sure where she was coming from on Dad’s death, but she definitely has some abilities, and it must run in the family. She said Grandma and Dad did, too.”

  Kyle’s eyes met mine. Before I blurted out that she was right about Dad being murdered, I remembered where we were and didn’t think Dustin needed that information just yet.

  “You have to go see her,” he said. “She lives like an hour from here in Merlin.”

  “Your psychic aunt lives in a town called Merlin? Oh, that’s appropriate,” Kyle said.

  Dustin cackled loud and almost looked good for a moment. “He’s funny, Nate, better get him out of here, or they’ll want to keep him and straighten out his humor.”

  “How do I find her?”

  “She’s in the book. Merlin, you know it’s just north of Grants Pass. Anyway, drive down the main drag—it’s a tiny place—and you’ll see this little brick house with a neon sign out front saying ‘Psychic’ and ‘Palms Read.’ You can’t miss it.”

  “Seriously, she’s a roadside psychic?” Kyle asked.

  “Yeah, want to know who you’re going to take to the prom? She’ll tell you,” Dustin said.

  Then he went quiet and stared at the brick wall for a long time.

  “Dustin, are you all right?”

  “As lone as God, and white as a winter moon, Mount Shasta starts up sudden and solitary from the heart of the great black forests.”

  “That’s beautiful. Who said it?”

  “I did. Didn’t you just hear me?”

  “I mean, originally.”

  “I don’t know, some dead poet. We need to go to Shasta, Nate . . . soon. I have to show you something. Something you have to see to believe.”

  “What is it?”

  “There’d be no way to describe it. I wouldn’t even try. I have to take you there.”

  We walked laps around the courtyard for twenty minutes, chatting small talk, trying to avoid the awfulness of what his life had become.

  “Did you drive my truck?”

  “No.”

  He looked disappointed.

  “We’re going to figure out how to get you released.”

  “Just bring my truck up here, leave the keys under the mat. I’ll find a way out to it.” He was serious.

  “We need to do it so they don’t come looking for you, where they will leave you alone.”

  “Are you going to tell Mom you saw me?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “If you do, ask her what Dad would think of me being here!”

  “Dad wouldn’t have let her put you here.”

  “I know. That’s my point. Maybe she’ll listen to you. Or maybe she’s ready to lock you up here with me.”

  “What did you mean when you told me on the phone it might be a rough trip?”

  “Meet any strange people? Anyone come screaming out of a past life trying to get you? And the trip ain’t over yet, Nate.”

  “How do you know this stuff?”

  “I’m psychic, remember? Or wait, I’m crazy . . . psychic, crazy, psychic, oh, I keep forgetting which it is. I’m so confused.” He laughed heartily.

  “You said you wouldn’t be able to help.”

  “Meds.”

  “I know, but how could you help otherwise?”

  “Man, we got to get you some proper teachin’, little brother. It’s not just about peering into past lives and hearing random things. You can see into this life and hear things that actually mean something.”

  “How?”

  “Get me out of here and I’ll show you.”

  “If you can do all that, why can’t you get yourself out?” Kyle asked.

  “Who invited him?” Dustin asked, pointing to Kyle. “How’d he get in here?”

  “Fair question.”

  “Look at me. Just look at what the meds have done. If not for Rose, I wouldn’t even be able to have this conversation. Can you see me sweating? Do you know how hard this is for me? I’ll be in bed for a week after this visit.”

  “I’m sorry, but if you still hear the voices and see past lives—”

  “It’s less and less, the meds really fog it all out. I guess that’s what they’re supposed to do. But there are other things that I’ve been working to develop during my brief mornings of fragile clarity.”

  “Like?”

  “That’s gotta be a topic for another time. Our seven minutes remaining isn’t near enough to even begin.” He gave me a long pleading look. “Nate, you have to get me out of here. It’s a slow death, I swear.”

  “I know.”

  “No, Nate,” his voice hushed but firm. “You do not know.” He leaned close to me, still talking in a loud whisper. “These pills make me seem all calm for Mom so she thinks I’m getting better, but the only thing wrong with me is these pills. She just won’t believe the chemicals are destroying me from the inside. Destroying me.” The last words came out as a desperate hiss.

  “We did a bunch of research online, and now that you’re eighteen, they have to review your case within nine months. If they think you’re ready to re-enter society, then Mom can’t stop them. I’m sure they’ll let you out then.”

  “In nine months it won’t be worth bothering with me anymore. I’ll be a puddle of a man. Nothing but mush, Nate.” His hand reached gently to the back of my neck and slowly pulled me to him until our foreheads were touching. His eyes did more talking than his mouth. “Find a way, Nate. Please find a way to save me.”

  “I will Dustin, I will,” I whispered. He squeezed the back of my neck and nodded slightly. His lips trembled and eyes filled. He nodded again. We sat there a minute until the orderly came to take him away. Just before the door closed behind him, he looked back and nodded again.

  “Are you okay?” Kyle asked, as we were walking back to the car.

  “How could I be? I might have been the one in there. Do you realize how close I came? They’re killing my brother, maybe not like my dad, but don’t kid yourself, they are killing him, too. They’re just doing it in some slow and terrible way.” I had to kneel on the ground. Linh saw from the car and ran to us.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “We have to get him right now,” I said.

  “Nate, we can’t,” Kyle said.

  “What happened?” Linh repeated.

  “There’s nothing wrong with him. My brother has spent two years being tortured for no reason.”

  “He hasn’t been tortured,” Kyle said.

  “What do you call it? Two years of chemicals and confinement. You heard him; he’d rather be in prison. They’ve kept him from his mind. They’ve methodically been stealing his sanity. You know all these pharmaceuticals have brutal side effects. Who knows what the meds are doing to him physically. It is torture.”

  “Okay, I’m not going to win that argument. I have no interest in defending what they’re doing here. I sure wouldn’t want it done to me or anyone. But we can’t just go and grab him,” Kyle said impatiently.

  “Let’s figure it out and make a plan.”

  “Let’s talk to Rose.”

  “Who?” Linh asked.

  “My Aunt Rose has been helping Dustin deal with his psychic gifts without my mother knowing. Dustin said that she and my dad and my grandmother were all psychic, and Rose knew Dustin and I would be, too.”

  “And she told his mother,” Kyle added.

  “Your mom knew?” Linh asked.

  “Well, knowing and believing are two different things. My mom must be afraid of all this for some reason.”

  “Do you blame her?

  “Yes, I th
ink I do,” I said.

  “Nate, let’s get out of here. We can’t save him today. Let’s go find Rose,” Kyle said, putting his arm around me, urging me to the car.

  “All right, but either way, I’m going to get him out. Not in weeks or months but in days.”

  “Here, I wrote this for you,” Linh said handing me a sheet of paper.

  brother to brother

  sun to sun

  side by side

  forever young

  I look into your eyes

  I see a thousand worlds

  of which I am familiar

  we share that secret

  that violence

  and unlike the weather

  we are consistent

  with what we have chosen

  brother, dearest friend

  enemy, confidant

  can you know

  this love that forever binds

  as blood connects

  embroiders the earth we walk on

  together this march

  this passive remembrance

  of shoelaces learned

  music played, cigarettes burned

  we are the image I hold —

  a longing to know

  why this separation

  this other-worldly beckoning

  an outcast to our souls

  Brother, hear my cry

  I am here, in front and beside

  like Tolstoy, or Gandalf

  like a tree,

  or a dog

  21

  Aunt Rose looked at the three of us a moment before screaming, “My God, Nate, that’s you, isn’t it, honey?”

  “Hi Aunt Rose, it’s been a long time.”

  “It’s been ages! Oh, aren’t you handsome like your father. What are you doing here? What am I talking about? What are you doing out there? Get in here.” She pulled me in the door. “And who are your friends?”

  “These are my best friends, Kyle and Linh.”

  “Come in, come in all of you.” Inside the foyer, she led us through open double doors to a room with a carved round wooden table and matching cushioned chairs. I was pretty sure Rose was about five or six years younger than my dad, which would make her around forty-one.