Skin Cage

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Skin Cage Page 13

by Nico Laeser


  George reaches out, and I flinch inside, but he reaches past me and takes the book. “Stranger in a Strange Land?”

  “He has it listed as one of his favorites on his profile,” I say as I shuffle my toes inside my slippers.

  “His profile?” he says, turning the book over.

  “I looked him up online; I was just trying to help ... ”

  “You think he can hear us?” he says and there is a pleading look behind the wet glass of his eyes.

  “I know that I would rather waste my time reading to him, even if he can’t hear me, than leave him staring at a plain white wall and alone with the chance that he can,” I say, careful not to let my tone come across as chastising.

  “Do you know what happened to my son?” His harsh tone cracks a little, and I watch the hair on his thick forearms stand up from the flesh as it goose bumps.

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”

  He stares right through me, and I don’t know where to look.

  “All the jock kids at his school, they pushed him around, bullied him, and beat him. He hid it from his mother and me, or we ignored it, I don’t know. All the sports and bullshit I signed him up for, just put him right there, with all of those guys. I let them have him. Will said in his note that it had been going on for years, and he couldn’t take it anymore; he couldn’t get away from them, and he could never be like me.” Tears roll down his cheeks, and I can almost see the mechanical refocusing of his eyes back on mine.

  “He hung himself with his goddamn school tie,” he growls, and he begins to shake, trying to hold it in. His hands are trembling; his mouth is twitching and quivering.

  “He was my boy, my son, and those fucking kids ... ” he starts and wipes the tears from his eyes, “I was one of those kids when I was in school. I picked on the nerds, the losers, the geeks, and God is paying me back. It might as well have been me that bullied and beat him. He did nothing to anyone. He was my son, he was innocent, and I did it, I killed him.” He looks at William and drops to his knees. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I gave you to those animals; I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

  George is crying into the lap of his son’s statue for minutes before he remembers, or cares, that I’m still in the room. He wipes his face and tries to compose himself, and I don’t know what to say, or if there is anything I can say.

  “So this is his favorite?” he says, choking on his words and swallowing to force whatever tears are left, back inside, as he picks up the book from the floor.

  “Yes,” I say. Part of me wants to tell him that I was bullied, and that I know some of what William must have gone through, but this would do nothing, if not twist the knife that has already inflicted a fatal wound.

  “Where did you get up to?” he says and sits down in the chair.

  “Chapter nineteen,” I say.

  He flicks through the pages, stopping at the bookmarked page and begins to read. I leave the room quietly and listen as George’s voice starts like an old car during winter, before regaining its previous goliath stature.

  CHAPTER 53

  I am behind the curtain

  I exit through the cafeteria and hold the door open for myself as I leave David’s statue to wait as a patient doorman, while I move freely through the gardens and the facility.

  The gardens are beautiful pinks, purples, and oranges and stand out brightly against the blue-black sky above. I stroll slowly around the path and lie down on the bed of nails where the grass used to be, staring up into the black, looking for frozen yellow spies.

  I take my time on the way back and enter through the door held open graciously by my former self. I wander through the cafeteria and around the library for a while, looking at the raised lettering of old books and trying to read the names of any book that still has the fresh fingerprints of life on its spine.

  I pass my room and make my way to the lights in the open expanse of the dayroom. There are more lights than residents, and as I get closer, I realize that some of the lights are without the dark body outlines that contain the majority about the room. By the relation in shape and size, I determine that two of the lights in a large group are Cassie and Anna. When I am close enough to make out Cassie’s features, I see that all but a few of the group around them are without body. Of the bodiless entourage surrounding them both, there stands a small, lighted figure by Anna’s side that appears to be holding her hand.

  CHAPTER 54

  I am serendipitous

  I want nothing more than to talk to Cassie, but I have been waiting for the right time to strike up conversation, or perhaps, waiting for fate to step in, all the while, hoping that death’s tendency for procrastination is more prevalent than my own. I imagine future conversations with Cassie and yearn for her to hold my hand in hers, now that I am able to appreciate the gift of her touch. I know that the relationship, in whatever capacity, between Cassie and I must develop naturally, organically, or I will run the risk of becoming an unwanted nuisance or pest. I will bide my time, even though it is the very commodity that I am most limited in.

  ***

  I have kept myself occupied for the most part, either in the library or in William’s room. George had asked if I would continue to read to his son between visiting hours, and I told him that I would be happy to, and have honored his request daily, today being of no exception.

  ***

  I put the book down on the table after securing the bookmark between the pages, and I notice that William is no longer staring straight forward, but at the poster on his wall. Only his eyes have moved, and I second-guess myself, questioning if he has moved at all, then his eyes loll down to his right.

  I pull my chair to in front of his. “William, can you look at my left hand?” I hold both of my hands up in front of me.

  His eyes remain pointed down and to his right.

  “Can you look at my right hand?” I ask and flick my eyes from his, to the target hand.

  His eyes move slowly up, past my hand, to the corner of the room.

  “Now my left again?” I say.

  His eyes drop once more to his right and down.

  “Can you blink for me?” I ask, but he remains still.

  “That’s okay; can you look left, right, and back to let me know that you can hear me?” I say, my excitement causing my voice to shake.

  Slowly his eyes travel from bottom right to top left, and back and forth.

  “I’ll be right back, William,” I call, as I turn and run out of the room to find Cassie.

  I happen upon Anna first, “Where’s Cassie?”

  “She’s up on the second floor, what do need?” she says, flinching as she turns to face me.

  “Can you get her to come down here and meet me in William’s room?” I say, bouncing with nervous energy.

  She doesn’t have a chance to respond.

  “Please, Anna, it’s important, 157-C,” I say.

  “What ... ”

  “It’s urgent, she needs to see,” I say, cutting her off.

  “Okay, David, calm down, I will get her for you.” She motions her hands like a pianist and waves them up and down a fraction.

  I hurry back to William’s room and explain to him that I want him to do the same thing for Cassie when she gets here, and I continue to test him, afraid that if I stop, he will recoil once again to the back of his cage.

  I hear Cassie’s heels, clipping quickly in the hallway, followed by what I assume is Anna, a few seconds later.

  “What’s going on, what’s wrong?” Cassie says through panting breaths.

  “Watch,” I say, “Look left for me,” and William complies.

  “Look right,” I say, and he does. “Look left.”

  I turn to Cassie. “He can hear us.”

  She kneels in front of William and repeats the process through a beaming smile.

  I’m shaking, and there is a pain shooting down my leg. Not wanting to detract attention from William, I move through the door and out into th
e hallway to calm down. The wall and floor turn and narrow. I feel a dull thud against my head as the wall moves to catch my fall. The hallway spins, and I collapse facing the dimming lights. I can hear Anna’s voice, calling for Cassie.

  CHAPTER 55

  I am the tin man

  “David?”

  After opening my eyes, it takes a short while for me to focus and reorganize the blur of a large figure, standing in the doorway to my room.

  “George?”

  “I want to thank you for what you did for Will,” he says as he enters and comes to stand next to my bed.

  “What I did?” I ask, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

  “They’ve got him hooked up to a computer; he’s talking,” he says.

  I sit up, “Really?”

  “Take it easy; Anna told me not to get you excited, or she’ll see to it that I end up in worse shape than you,” he says, smiling.

  I chuckle at the thought of Aunt Anna chastising George and ask, “So what did William say?”

  “He likes the poster,” George says, “He asked me to thank you for reading to him, and for being his friend.”

  “Tell him he’s welcome, and I’ll come to see him as soon as I’m allowed to leave my room. I’ve been relegated to bed rest for the rest of the week,” I say and wait for George to respond, as he searches the floor of my room for words that are somehow lost, within the reflected light from my window.

  “They told me you were running around to get the nurse for Will, that’s why you collapsed,” he says in a more somber tone.

  “I’ve got a bad heart; I’m supposed to take it easy, or so they keep telling me,” I say, in a way that makes my condition sound more like a chore than a death sentence.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks.

  “No, I’m okay, they’re looking after me,” I say, “Anna’s been walking me around the gardens every day.”

  “You and Nurse Mathews gave me my son back; I don’t know how to repay you for that, but if there’s anything you need,” he says.

  “I have everything I need, George,” I say and offer thanks, by way of a smile.

  “Well, if you think of anything,” he says, and I know that I will have to think of something eventually, if only for the purpose of allowing a strong man the opportunity of repaying a debt to his pride.

  “George?” I call, as he’s about to leave.

  He turns and raises his eyebrows.

  “You should ask them to hook a printer up to Will’s computer and set it up so that he can print what he writes. It would be nice for him to be able to say whatever he wants, and not have to wait for an audience,” I say.

  He nods and smiles. “That’s a good idea. I’ll tell Nurse Mathews. Thanks, David, for everything.”

  After George leaves, I try to fall back asleep, but the room is bright, and I’m as well rested as a man can possibly be. I read for a while to pass the time until Anna comes to get me for my walk. She insists that I let her help me into the chair and covers me with a thick blue blanket that makes me feel more decrepit. She takes me the long way through the facility, and as we are just nearing the exit doors, I hear Cassie call, “Anna?”

  We stop and Cassie comes around to the side of the wheelchair to face us both.

  “What is it, Cass?” Anna says.

  “I was hoping to talk to David,” Cassie says, and my heart jumps.

  “I was just about to take him for a walk in the gardens; you can take over if you like, dear,” Anna says.

  Cassie glances at me, “Is that okay, David?”

  I try for an indifferent smile and stammer a response. “That’s fine with me.”

  “Great, thanks, Anna.” Cassie pushes the button to open the doors and moves behind me. I close my eyes and breathe her in before the breeze from outside steals the sweet and intoxicating smell of her skin away from me.

  “It’s a little cool outside; would you like another blanket or anything, David?” she asks as we exit the building.

  “I’m okay, thank you, Cassie.” The minor sufferance of cool air whistling past my sock-less ankles is a small price to pay for the chance to be alone with the woman I adore.

  We come to a stop next to a bench, and she takes a seat. “We haven’t really had the chance to sit and get to know one another yet.”

  “I know, my heart keeps getting in the way.” I smirk.

  She smiles, and it’s everything I can do to keep my heart from racing.

  “You have a big heart, David,” she says.

  “It’s just swollen,” I say breathing a laugh through my nose.

  “That’s not what I meant; that was a wonderful thing that you did for William,” she says and looks me in the eyes.

  I am lost for a second in her beautiful brown eyes, and I yearn to hold her.

  “George says you’ve got him hooked up to a computer, and he’s talking,” I say, blinking myself out of a trance.

  “He’s been asking about you, David, he wanted to know if you were okay. I told him that you’re doing fine, but you have to take it easy for a little while,” she says.

  Cassie looks back toward the building. “He’s been in the dayroom all morning watching back-to-back Star Trek episodes from the box set you brought for him.”

  “I’m glad he likes them.” I follow her gaze to the house, and my mouth forms into a wide smile on its own.

  “He told me to tell you that he forgives you for ‘creeping his profile’ too,” she says.

  I let out a brief chuckle. “I can’t wait to speak with him.”

  “He’s doing really well for an HAI patient,” she says.

  “HAI?”

  “Sorry, Hypoxic-anoxic injury. Depriving the brain of oxygen,” she says, and her mind seems to be elsewhere.

  “George told me what happened, why he’s here I mean,” I say.

  Cassie looks down into her lap. “It was terrible what happened to William, and what his parents must have gone through.”

  We sit in silence for a moment, both of us watching her hands move nervously around imaginary soap.

  “Before I came back here, to this facility, I looked after an unresponsive boy; well, he wasn’t a boy at the end, but he was about William’s age when I first began care,” she says.

  I watch her stop and start to speak a few times, searching for what she wants to say.

  “His name was Daniel Stockholm; I grew very attached to him. You can’t help but give a little of your heart to someone after nine years of caring for them like one of your own family,” she says, and I can see the emotion welling up in her.

  I search for a way for David to contribute to the conversation. “I read about Daniel Stockholm in the newspaper.”

  We trade glances, and after a second, she says, “We tried the eye tracking thing with Danny too, but it didn’t work. I wanted so much for him to be able to talk to me.”

  “I’m sorry that it didn’t work; that must have been hard on everyone,” I say, and I remember it like it was yesterday.

  “I don’t know if he could hear me, or if he even knew I was there,” she says.

  “He could hear you, Cassie,” I say without thinking, and Cassie looks up at me. I take a second. “You have to hope, right?”

  She nods. “Hope is all you’ve got sometimes.”

  “What’s going to happen to the other care worker, Salt?” I ask, feigning effort to remember his name.

  “Marcus? He’s been committed to ongoing psychiatric evaluation,” she says.

  “So he’s not going to jail?” I ask.

  “No, it doesn’t look like it, but he’s going to be in the mental facility for a few years, while he gets the help he needs,” she says.

  Hearing the news that Marcus is not going to be sentenced to a lifetime in jail helps relieve a small portion of the guilt. “Anna worked there too, right?”

  “Danny was her nephew,” she says, nodding slowly.

  “How is she holding up?” I
ask.

  “Anna’s strong. She says that she thinks Danny is in a better place.” Cassie smiles, but her eyes wince a little as she says it.

  “I think that she’s right,” I say and return her smile, “I figured that you would have to believe in some kind of afterlife, in your line of work.”

  “It helps to have faith, or at the very least, hope,” she says and glances down at her watch, “I had better get you back inside.”

  I nod in response, and as she stands, she says, “I just wanted to say thank you, David, for what you did for William.”

  “Thank you, Cassie, for keeping my heart beating,” I say.

  “Well, actually it’s the medication that is doing that, not me,” she says.

  My heart has beat only for her, for as long as I have loved her, and it feels like I have loved her for an eternity. I don’t tell her this. I just smile.

  CHAPTER 56

  I am in check

  You might as well give up, David is the message on the screen.

  “I’m just rusty,” I say, and I’m trying desperately to recall David’s memory of chess tactics.

  I move the queen in a desperate, last-ditch effort to save myself, and as soon as I take my fingers off of the piece and look up, I see that William has already written his next move on the screen, followed by checkmate.

  “Wow.” I shake my head. “That’s enough for me, I admit defeat.”

  Are you sure? You need the practice.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I guess I’m not as good at chess as I remember,” I say.

  Nurse Cassie says that they are coming today to modify the software so I can use the Internet and check my email.

  “That’s great. I’ll ask if we can download some e-books and audio books to your computer, if you want,” I say.

  I like it when you and my dad read to me.

  “I’ll still read to you, but if you wake up early and you’re bored, you’ll have something to help pass the time,” I say.

 

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