The D.B. List

by Rebekah L. Purdy

  My fingernails dig into my palms, and for a moment, I welcome the pain. The reminder that I’m still here, fighting, even though there are days I want to give up. To be with Grandpa. Ever since that I day, my relationship had become even more strained with my mom. I’m never good enough in her eyes, and she’s never stopped blaming me for Grandpa’s death. Because of me, her dad’s gone.

  Grandma told me it wasn’t my fault; she said Mom just needed someone to be mad at. I think she tells me that to make me feel better, but I wonder if she really means it.

  I take out my sketchbook and begin to draw Grandpa. The need to see his face again overwhelms me.

  So for the rest of the night, I watch over PJ and fill sheets of paper with images of Grandpa.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Therapist Angel stands in front of our group. “So, today, I was able to arrange something kind of different for us to do.” She has her fuzzy wand-thing in hand. “How would you all like to get out of here for a while?”

  I nudge Rhett with my knee. “Is she serious?”

  He leans over and whispers, “God, I hope so. I’m fucking going crazy in this place.”

  “I’ve gotten permission for us to go outside for group today.”

  Outside. I want to hug her. I’ve missed feeling the sunshine on my skin. Excitement races through me.

  “Now, if you’ll follow me.” She gestures for us to leave the library.

  Rhett and I fall into step, and I notice an orderly following close behind. He’s obviously going to make sure we behave.

  When we get outside, the light breeze tickles my face. The scent of fresh cut grass reminds me of being at the soccer fields. My gaze flits over the pond in the distance and the large oak tree. Beneath it, there are several blankets laid out. This is where Therapist Angel leads us.

  “Okay everyone, why don’t you have a seat on one of the blankets, or you can share one if you want.”

  Rhett and I head for the big plaid one. I plop down, then lean back. The sun warms my face, and I close my eyes. Out here I feel almost human again—at peace. Birds chirp in the distance, while the leaves rustle overhead. My lids open so I can take it all in.

  “It’s nice out here,” Rhett says next to me. “It makes me thing of being up at my family’s lake house.”

  I glance at him, seeing the tattoo of a hawk on the side of his neck. “I’m not going to want to go back inside.”

  “We could run off, you know.” He grins. “How far do you think we’d get before someone caught us?”

  With a snort, I pick a blade of grass. “Probably about three feet. Unless we have a diversion. They watch us like panthers hunting prey. If we find a rock, maybe we can throw it and see if they chase it—I mean it works in movies.”

  “Unfortunately, it’ll probably take more than a rock to divert Godzilla’s attention.” He nods at the bulky orderly.

  Angel holds up her fuzzy wand and gestures for us to quiet down. “Today, I want everyone to think of one place, or idea, or thing that makes you happiest. It can be an activity or a favorite hangout. Something that resonates with you and makes you happy. So, take a minute and visualize it.”

  I close my eyes again. This part is easy. My favorite place to be is my Aunt Mamie’s. She has this Tiny House up in the hills overlooking Lake Michigan. She has a pole barn that she uses for her art studio. Her home has two small lofts, both with skylights so you can see the stars at night while you lay there. Sometimes she even opens the windows so we can listen to the sounds of crickets or waves crashing on shore.

  The one thing about her is she doesn’t expect everything to be perfectly clean or in its place. She wants people to know her home is lived in. Aunt Mamie’s always smells like the outdoors and of paint and art supplies and coffee. Things that comfort me.

  “Alright, now that you’ve had some time to think of it, why don’t we go around and share.” Angel steps over to me and hands me the fuzzy wand. “Ellie, you can start us off.”

  So, I go on to tell everyone about Aunt Mamie’s. How I feel like I can do anything and be anyone when I’m with her. How at peace I am when she’s around. I explain our mutual appreciation for the arts. What I don’t mention is how she’s more like a mom to me than what mine is. There is such a thing as too much sharing. I don’t want whole group to be in all my shit. So, I keep some of it back, pieces I want for myself.

  Angel smiles at me. “That sounds nice, Ellie. Rhett, what about you?”

  Rhett clears his throat, and peers at me, then back to Angel. “My favorite place is my family’s beach house. You get to wake up every morning to the sound of waves crashing. There’s a lot to do there. I can go boating, hiking, swimming, or fishing. And we have this big dock that I sometimes bring my easel out onto so I can paint before everyone else gets up for the day. Kind of like Ellie’s place, it’s just peaceful. It’s like I’m a different person when I’m there. I can forget everything that pisses me off.”

  I reach across the way and squeeze his hand. We really are kindred. When the orderly looks at us, I quickly drop his fingers. Geez, it’s like we’re not allowed to do anything here.

  “Another wonderful sounding place, thanks for sharing Rhett.” Angel smiles, then shifts her attention to Cameron. “Cameron, you’re up.”

  Cameron’s eyes harden, and she twists a corner of the blanket in her hands. “The thing that’d make me happiest would be seeing my mom and her scummy boyfriend in a coffin. Worms eating their fucking faces. I’d love to examine the stab wounds after I cut them up …”

  My stomach churns. What the hell? She’s beyond disturbed. I don’t care for my mom, but I’d never wish her dead. Chills snake across my skin and I scoot closer to Rhett.

  He peers down at me. And mouths, ‘What the fuck?’

  “Cameron, why don’t we think of something a lot less dark?”

  “You mean like rainbows and ponies? Because that’s not my thing.”

  Obviously. For shit sake. Maybe Doc Angel should find her another group.

  If Angel is deterred by Cameron’s negativity, she doesn’t act like it. “While you come up with something different, let’s move onto someone else. How about you Derek?”

  I can barely listen as the others talk about their favorite things and such. Mostly because I don’t want to hear another “Cameron” type description.

  “Alright everyone, so that’s all the time we have out here today. I’m glad you guys were so open, it’s nice seeing the smiles and hearing the happiness in your voices. Maybe next week we can do another fun outing.”

  Next week. Which means none of us are going anywhere. Son of bitch.

  As we make our way back into the institute, I feel the warmth draining away. The thought of being stuck inside with a bunch of crazy dumb asses weighs on me.

  “Is it just me, or are some of these people fucking psycho?” Rhett says.

  “No shit, I’m glad Cameron isn’t my roommate, or I’d be scared to fall asleep.”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, remind me not to piss her off.”

  “So your family’s lake house sounds awesome. Did you go there a lot?”

  He shrugs. “We did before my brother died, but not so much after that. Sometimes I sneak up there when my parents are fighting, or I just want to get away. And I might’ve cut class once or twice to hide out up there.”

  I roll my eyes. “Once or twice?”

  “Or probably six or seven. Yeah, that sounds more accurate.”

  “Maybe I could see it sometime,” I say, with a laugh.

  “Well, tell you what, if we ever get out of this place, I’ll take you there.”

  “Pinky-promise?”

  He holds up his pinky and catches mine in his. “I promise. So we should probably start getting our shit together here …”

  “I’ll definitely try harder now.”

  When we get inside, I sigh. How do they expect people to get better in here? It’s so drab. So suffocating.

  As i
f reading my thoughts, Rhett says, “I’ve got to get out of this place, it’s making me go stir-crazy. Seriously, you’re the only good thing about the institute, Ellie.”

  I smile. “Thanks. And you’re not so bad yourself. Maybe when we get out this hell, we can hang out like normal people.”

  “Normal?”

  “Well, as normal as we can be.”

  “You’ve got a deal.”

  It feels good to talk to him. Next to PJ, Rhett’s becoming one of my best friends here. But are we too fucked up to ever really be normal? I still don’t even know everything about him.

  And he doesn’t know everything about me. He doesn’t know my darkest secrets yet. I tug on my shirtsleeves. I’m not ready to visit Haydon Barber’s memory yet. Maybe soon.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Happy Rainbow Farting Unicorn List Number 3: Aunt Mamie

  The group session today has me thinking about Aunt Mamie a lot. She’s like cotton candy in a circle of black licorice. Sweet. Pretty. Kind of fluffy—as in she’s a little scatter-brained. But like Grandpa and Alex, she’s always been one of my biggest fans. She’s kind of the black sheep of the family. At least according to my mom. But what does Mom know? Mom, her brother Don, brother Lan, and sister Laura were all successful, well-off, and pretty much stuck up. I’m not sure how they all ended up like that, considering Grandma and Grandpa were the nicest people I knew. Grandpa thought it’s because they didn’t have a lot of money growing up. They lived off the land and worked for everything they got. So now they’re making up for it by showing how successful they are.

  But Aunt Mamie is more like Grandpa, she loves the simple things. She finds beauty all around her. She’s fine not making hundreds of thousands of dollars. What she does make, she donates to keep art programs in low-income school districts going. She was even a part of a group who went over to Africa to help get a girls’ school started.

  So this is for Aunt Mamie. Who inspires me. Makes me want to be better. And loves me unconditionally.

  Aunt Mamie turns her jeep onto the highway and smiles at me.

  “So where are we going?” I fidget with my seatbelt.

  “It’s a surprise.” She peers at me. “Don’t worry; you’ll love it.”

  I stare out the window as we head into the city. Buildings sprawl in front of us, along with traffic and parked cars. It’s busy down here. Like everyone has some place they have to be, and they’re late.

  Soon we pull in front of a large brick building Aunt Mamie doesn’t park. Instead, she guides the car down a side alley. Here she finds a small lot and comes to a stop.

  I have no idea where we’re at. But my aunt’s excitement is catchy. She hurries from the vehicle and then waits for me to climb out. She takes out a ring of keys and unlocks a thick, green metal door. She reaches inside and flips on a switch. A long hall wraps along brick walls covered with paintings, pictures, and portraits.

  “Mamie?” I say.

  She grabs my hand and drags me in. “This is my friend Pierre’s Art Gallery. He’s putting on a show with my artwork in it. And I wanted you to be the first to see it.”

  I inhale deeply as we walk along the way. My gaze moves over familiar paintings of the lake, and of the trees. Paintings of me surrounded by flowers. But it’s the small piece at the end that makes me gasp.

  “Th-that’s mine. The one I did when I visited you a couple of months ago.” My throat constricts.

  “I know. Pierre saw it and said he had to have it. You’re great at capturing people and their emotions …”

  “My parents said I’d never be good enough at art to do anything. They threw away my charcoals and paints.” My vision blurs as tears sneak out the corners of my eyes.

  “Well, your parents are jack asses.” She chuckles, clutching me tight to her chest. “You’re very talented, Ellie. Even more-so than me.” We begin to walk once more, until we’re in the main area of the gallery. Here there are paintings bigger than me. Some are of people; others are of sunsets and rolling waves. “And because I believe in you,” she says. “I bought you a new art kit. We’ll keep it at my house for now. You can come over and do art anytime you’d like kiddo.”

  I don’t know what to say. So, I hug her again. Aunt Mamie understands. She always has. I want to stay with her all day, but I know my parents want me home by seven for some dinner thing they have going on.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re so welcome. Grandpa said you can keep a few things at his house too, if you’d like.”

  I laugh. Of course, he’s in on this too. “You know Mom and Dad will be mad if they find out about this.”

  She snorts. “Let them be ticked. They already don’t like me, so no love lost there. Just promise me you won’t let them talk you out of your dream. You’re brilliant, Ellie. I don’t want to see you bullied into something that doesn’t make you happy. You deserve the world, and I plan on doing everything I can to make sure you get it.”

  I set my notebook down. God, I miss Mamie. I’m not sure my parents put her on the “allowed to visit” list here. I’ve sent her a couple of letters, just to say hi and let her know I’m doing okay. But I haven’t heard back yet.

  Unless my incoming mail is monitored. Who’s to say? I wonder if my life would’ve been different if I’d been born to her instead of to my parents.

  Not wanting to think about them, I sigh and decide to find PJ.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Therapist Angel sits across from me. She takes a sip of tea from a mug shaped like a cat; its tail wrapped upward like a handle. She sets my notebooks down and smiles at me.

  “You’re making such great progress, Ellie. I’m glad you’re sharing everything.”

  I shrug because I don’t really have a choice. Some of the memories make me happy, while others downright destroy me all over again. Unless that’s the point. To relive the darkness.

  “I’m trying,” I say.

  “Have you had any recent thoughts about death, or wanting to hurt yourself?” She watches me.

  The truth is, I’m trying to hold them at bay. To not think about how good it feels to release my pain. To cut my arms. My legs. Anything to help me cope. My focus for the last couple of weeks has been on finding other things, ways to make the voices and negative thoughts and feelings just go away.

  “Ellie?” She sets her cup down and leans forward.

  “I’m doing better.” Which isn’t exactly the answer she wants, I can tell by the softening of her eyes. The worry lines in her brow.

  “That’s not what I asked, Ellie. For this to work, we need to be honest with one another.”

  With a sigh, I close my eyes. “The thoughts are lessening. They’re more at the back of my mind than at the front. If that makes sense.” My lids open, and I stare at her.

  She nods, then jots something down in my file. “Well, that’s a much better answer than you had when you first got here. Now, the one thing I’ve noticed in these journals is that there seems to be a common factor in a lot of your thoughts.”

  I stiffen. Will whatever it is she’s seeing keep me here forever? Shit. Maybe I should lie. Paste on a big fucking smile and pretend the powers of Lovely Soul Institution have healed me. But Therapist Angel can read me too well, so she’ll see through the bullshit. Damn it.

  “I’m seeing that there’s a lot of negative impact from your parents. The pressure they put on you. I wonder if maybe we had a joint session with them that we could alleviate some of those pressures for you?”

  My stomach knots. I’m not sure how it will go. My parents are very set in how they think children should be raised. They never took any advice from my grandparents, so I don’t see them allowing Angel to dictate any changes in the way we live. Somehow, they’ll find a way to blame me.

  “I-if you think it’ll help,” I say, trying to seem like I’m willing to work at it.

  “They don’t have to be a permanent fixture in our meetings. But I’d like to get a better i
dea of a few things. So why don’t I call them today and see if they can make the next visitation day later this week.”

  God, I want to say no. That I’m not ready to see them again. However, I nod. If sitting in a room with my mom and dad will get me out of here quicker, then I’ll do it.

  “Okay.”

  “Now, the other thing I noticed in your pages here is you seem to gravitate toward your Aunt Mamie. Why do you think that is?”

  I smile. “Because she lets me be me. With her, I don’t have to pretend. She doesn’t yell, or push, or belittle me. She encourages me.” I tuck my knees beneath my chin. “Mamie hears me when I speak; she urges me to express myself through my art.”

  Angel writes down a few more things. “I think we’re done for today, Ellie. Thank you so much for being you, and for opening up. You’re doing amazing.”

  But not amazing enough to be let out.

  I slide from the chair and take my notebooks back from her. She follows me to the door and swings it open for me. “We’ll talk again soon. Keep up the good work.”

  When I leave her office, I head down to the commons and into the TV area. PJ is sitting on a bean bag, while Rhett is sprawled out on one of the couches. Michael sits across from them, staring. Then he notices me.

  My skin breaks into goosebumps, but I ignore him and head straight for Rhett and PJ.

  When Rhett sees me, he shifts to sit up and make room for me next to him. “Hey, so how did Counseling 101 go?”

  I roll my eyes, grabbing one of the throw pillows and hug it to my chest. “Well, she set up a meeting with my parents so she can watch us attempt to get along. Should be interesting.”

  “Sounds fun.” Rhett grins.

  PJ waves at me. “Ellie, Ellie guess what I did today? I learned to make macramé.”

  “That’s cool. Definitely more fun than sharing your feelings.”

  Rhett peers at me. “I thought they might be letting you out of here.”