by J. L. Sutton
My chest was covered in splotchy bruises in various stages of discoloration. Small scrapes and cuts crisscrossed my arms and knuckles that stung when the soap washed over them. Feeling like a new person after stepping out of the shower I dried myself gently before examining the rest of my injuries in the mirror. A small gash ran along my eyebrow that started to bleed again. The swelling had gone down enough that the scrape no longer interfered with my vision, but it would probably leave a jagged scar. I shook my head sadly—another to add to the collection. At least the majority of damage was superficial, most of the bruising and cuts would heal soon enough.
The only injury I couldn’t wrap my head around was the bizarre mark on my still tender shoulder. Scanning through last night’s events over and over again nothing seemed to explain the patch of ruined, itchy flesh, nor the blinding pain I felt when I received it. It looked almost like a scratch from a large cat, the long lines of irritated red skin thicker than a pencil. The wound had raised edges, but the skin looked unbroken and there was no blood. Almost like a burn.
Closer now to lunch than breakfast I tossed a handful of mini pizzas into the oven. I worked on washing the few dishes that had piled up, cowardly avoiding my call to Jennifer for as long as I could. I retrieved two painkillers from the bag of first aid supplies just as Hansel scurried out from behind the fridge, his beady eyes following me around the room.
“Wish me luck,” I said as I tossed him a crumb, and grimacing internally I called Jen.
When the line disconnected I calculated that I had roughly thirty minutes before the yelling started, and I cherished the short lived silence on the couch while the painkillers kicked in.
“What the hell happened?” Jennifer growled the second I closed the door behind her, and grabbing my face in her hand before I could reply she began a thorough examination. Her horrified expression would have me laughing uncontrollably if I didn’t know it would only make her angrier.
“It’s nice to see you too,” I mumbled, the words sounding baby-like between my squashed lips. Scowling, she released my face so I could speak. “Relax Jen. It looks much worse than it is.”
“What happened,” she repeated, ignoring my attempt to downplay my injuries.
Grinning sheepishly I recounted last night’s events to Jennifer while I made us each a cup of coffee, leaving out as much detail as I could get away with.
“How do you get yourself into these messes?” she complained, her eyes lingering over the cut on my face.
“Hey, it’s not like I planned any of this.”
“I know Ben. I just hate seeing you like this.” She shuddered. I couldn’t blame her for overreacting, it wasn’t the first time she had seen me battered and bruised.
“Sorry for taking up your afternoon, hope I didn’t ruin any of your plans?” I asked as casually as I could, desperately trying to change the subject.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jennifer said, smiling for the first time since she walked in. “I’ll just add it to the list of favors you owe me.”
“Sounds fair,” I nodded readily, more than glad to have the inquisition over.
“You still plan on visiting Lisa?”
“Honestly, it slipped my mind.” Realizing what I must look like I exhaled sharply, wincing from the sudden movement. “I’m afraid that seeing me like this will give her nightmares.”
“You want me to go with you?” Jennifer asked innocently, though I suspected it had more to do with her thoughts on my ability to drive than as moral support.
Still, I wouldn’t mind the company. “She’d like that.”
“Well then we better get a move on before we miss visiting hours, we’ll have to pick up your car on the way back.” She grabbed her handbag from the kitchen counter and was halfway out the door before I managed to get up.
“Let me just grab my jacket,” I grumbled quietly. Keeping up with her energetic stride was going to be a problem.
The Patrick Fords Psychiatric Institute lay eleven miles outside the city borders, tucked away inside a small valley just off the main road towards Boston. The drive only took about half an hour, but to me even this short a distance away from home felt like another world altogether. Lisa was just seventeen when the first symptoms of her condition started to show. That was almost four years ago now. She would miss weeks of school at a time while my father kept her at home, and eventually as things progressed she was forced to drop out altogether. With my father working during the day and my crappy hours at the precinct we made the decision to move her here to get the best treatment she could.
It was a small facility, housing less than fifty non-violent patients at a time, yet it still left me feeling uneasy every time I looked up at the tiny barred windows of the un-plastered brick building. I visited my sister at least twice a month to make sure she was well treated and comfortable, company was good for her. My father would’ve never been able to afford this place on his retirement fund, but I wasn’t going to let my sister go to a state facility, so a large portion of my income went towards paying her medical bills every month.
Jennifer came to visit with me a few times a year, and she knew the way around the paved walkway to the entrance as well as I did. The old varnished oak doors led into a small waiting room, occupied by a few dark couches and a middle aged nurse behind the smooth counter top who smiled as we approached.
“Afternoon,” she said, looking up curiously at the tape and bruising around my eye. “I’ll have Carl take you through to her.”
Jennifer and I took a seat while we waited for the orderly to arrive. She shuffled her feet around anxiously, never having gotten truly comfortable with coming here. Lisa and Jen were good friends once, and it hurt her to see my sister so . . . changed. I patted her shoulder encouragingly, and her cheeks glowed briefly as she tried putting on a brave expression.
We followed Carl the orderly through a heavy iron gate into the left wing of the building, working our way down a long corridor filled with small rooms on either side. The off-yellow walls were bare down the entire length, broken only by the wooden frames of the numbered doorways. My nostrils always burned from the smell of fresh bleach and ammonia. Carl slowed to a stop near the end of the hallway at number eleven, nodding to us as we reached the door.
“Yell if you need anything,” he said sternly before walking back along the way we came.
The room itself was little more than a cell. Lisa’s padded bed was secured against the wall, covered with a thick gray blanket. A small metal desk with rounded corners sat across from the bed, along with an empty plastic folding chair and a waist high cabinet that housed all her clothing. The room was devoid of all color, like the very paint on the walls were stripped of its joy—its soul. Yet Lisa never once complained. She was the strongest person I had ever known, even after she was doomed to this half-life.
My sister sat curled up in the other plastic chair, looking out of the barred window. Her hair was cut recently to just above her hunched shoulders, a lighter shade of blond than mine. She hummed a slow, lovely tune I didn’t recognize, bobbing her head along to the wordless rhythm.
“Lisa,” I said soothingly, not stepping closer in case I frightened her. The humming stopped when I spoke, but her head continued to sway gently.
“Rabbit,” my sister replied softly. She started calling me rabbit after I read The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter to her as a child before bed. I couldn’t remember the last time she called me by any other name.
She always recognized my voice, even on her worst days. I walked around the bed to her side as she uncurled her hands from around her knees and slowly stood, barely an inch shorter than my height. Her baby blue eyes stared at me for a long moment before holding out both her hands, palms up. I took her hands in mine and squeezed gently. She seemed fairly lucid today. Her heart-shaped face was filled with warmth and wonder, sweet and innocent like a child’s, which made her sad smile that much more painful to witness.
“How are y
ou, lil’ sis?” I asked warily.
“Kay.” Tugging on my hands she gestured to my chest. “Missed you.”
“I missed you too kiddo. Look—Jen’s here with me.” I kept my hand in hers as I turned to Jennifer still standing in the doorway.
“Hello Lisa.” Jennifer waved, and I felt Lisa’s hand grip mine tighter as her eyes dropped to the floor. Lisa was easily frightened, never looking into anyone’s eyes but mine, and even that was difficult for her at times.
“Hi,” Lisa squeaked meekly. I shot Jennifer an apologetic shrug, mouthing ‘she’s shy today’ as I led Lisa back to her chair. I took a seat on the bed next to her while Jennifer quietly crept up to the second chair. Lisa was staring out the window again, always watching something I could never seem to see.
Her expression was vacant as she spoke, frowning up at the clouds. “I dreamed you went away, away. I was so scared.”
“I’ll always be here,” I said reassuringly, “you know that.”
“Rabbit always keeps his promises,” she crooned to herself. It was heartbreaking seeing my beautiful sister reduced to this. Once so kind and full of life, what had she ever done to deserve this?
“Everyone treating you well?”
“I share my candies with José. They won’t let me visit you.” She scrunched her face, looking like she had just taken a bite out of a lemon.
“We’ve talked about this,” I said, running my tongue against my teeth as I tried to find the right words. “You can’t come and see me yet, that’s why I visit you. Remember?”
“I want to see the planes again,” Lisa said, stamping her foot lightly against the floor. Her favorite place in the world was an airport. Lisa wanted to become a pilot for as long as I could remember.
“I know you do. I’ll take you as soon as you’re a little better.” My voice cracked on the last word, a necessary little lie I hated telling her. The fact of the matter was she probably wasn’t ever going to get better, but I told her the lie anyway. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t give her hope? Man . . . no, around my sister I still felt like a boy. She was fragile, so for now the brief outings I took her on were almost always confined within the city limits.
“Kay.” She nodded. Her easy acceptance of my half answers always left a vile taste in my mouth.
An hour crept past as we sat together, not speaking for minutes at a time. I don’t think she truly grasped how long she was in this place for—time seemed to pass differently to her than the rest of us. Despite the heavy regimen of medication she was on, Lisa drifted in and out of reality sporadically, never truly present. When she wasn’t staring out the window her eyes danced about the room, watching the hollow phantoms her mind created.
She turned to me during another round of silence, her face lighting up as her expression became expectant. “Did you bring me splooshes?”
“Have I ever forgotten?” I asked, not the least bit surprised it took her this long to remember.
She seemed lost for a moment, deep in thought as she mulled over my words. Reaching into my pocket before she could reply I produced a folded square of bubble wrap and handed it to her with a grin. She squealed something unintelligible as she stroked the plastic, carefully popping a single bubble. Seeing her joy at something so simple was all the reason I needed to love her, all the reason I needed to protect her. She was my rock when I needed reassurance and I made sure she was never alone, but it still killed me that there was nothing more I could do for her as she wilted away behind these empty walls.
“It’s getting late,” Jennifer spoke softly.
A quick glance at my watch told me it was far later than I realized. “True. Lisa, I need to go now.”
She looked away from the window with an anxious expression, the bubble wrap clutched tightly between her fingers. “Are you coming back?”
“Of course,” I said, hugging her tenderly. “Don’t you worry, lil’ sis.”
“It was nice to see you Lisa.” Jennifer smiled at her warmly. Lisa responded by looking down at the floor and nodding awkwardly.
“See you soon.” I said before kissing her forehead. My sister’s hands were outstretched, grasping the empty air as I closed the door behind me.
“She looked better today,” Jennifer said encouragingly as we drove down the narrow pathway to the main road.
“Yeah,” I acknowledged, not sharing her enthusiasm. While I should be glad my sister was happy for the moment, I knew the bad days still outnumbered the good.
“At least she didn’t seem to notice how messed up you looked.”
“Small victories.” I nodded. The last thing she needed was to have to worry about me. “Hey, thanks for coming.”
“Anytime,” she said cheerfully.
The edges of the city appeared over the horizon as we rounded a wide corner. “We’ll be home soon, want to stop for a bite? My treat.”
“I could go for some chowder,” Jennifer answered, beaming.
I chuckled. “Like you’re ever not in the mood for chowder.”
4. Odds
I frowned when another car horn blared loudly to my left, as if the annoying sound would somehow speed up the near standstill Tuesday morning traffic. What was it about people that the second they got behind the wheel of a car their time automatically became more important than everyone else’s? I yawned lazily, trying to shake off the fog sloshing around the edges of my mind due to last night’s restless sleep. It was far too early for this much noise. Inch by inch the column of wheels crept along the shadow of the towering buildings above. Most of my work happened later in the day, and at times like these I felt almost out of touch with the rest of the world.
Officer Parker called me yesterday asking if I could come into the station, though if I had known I’d get there faster walking I may have reconsidered. Turning up the dial on my radio I relaxed slightly as the impatient sounds outside drowned away. An upbeat nineties pop song rumbled through my car as I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. Not something I enjoyed listening to, but anything was better than the restrained idling of my car. I loved flying down the open road on a calm night, the throaty purr of the engine responding under my guidance. Dragging along like this felt wrong, like I was doing my car a monstrous disservice.
I was unapologetically on edge this morning, and a lack of sleep wasn’t the only reason why. Unwelcome thoughts always crept into my head after I visited my sister. Usually I had no problem shaking the grievances and doubts from my mind, but my body was still on the mend which meant my go-to stress relief method was out the window. Watching Lisa slip away over the years had become a large influence in my life. I liked to think caring for her made me a better person, but I had no doubt the experience also hardened me in ways I did not always like. When I was with Claire it was definitely easier to handle. She was my crutch.
The one thing I never told Claire was how truly terrified I was sometimes. When my sister began to show symptoms my father told me my mother had some psychological issues of her own. The money my father sent was barely a supplement, and Lisa needed human contact. If Lisa inherited her condition from our mother, what would happen to her if I became sick too? Who would look after my sister if I no longer could? I spoke to her doctor about it once and he told me the odds were slim. Then again, when had the odds ever been in my favor? The way Jennifer and the officers at the scene reacted to my story of the vanishing woman made me seriously question myself this morning.
The whole episode was over so quickly, but dazed and adrenaline filled as I was she seemed real enough to me. It was a good thing I never told them about her eyes. Doubt weighed heavy on my mind as I weaved through the traffic—one of Lisa’s first symptoms was seeing things that weren’t real.
I rubbed my temples in slow circles, trying to calm my weary nerves. You’re just being paranoid Hadley. After a few minutes the outline of the police station came into view and I sighed in relief, reminding myself that I’d feel a lot better when all this was over.
The station was one of the oldest buildings in the city. Despite many renovations over the years it still maintained some of its best features like the rich sandstone color of its outer walls, and the sleek stone columns looming over the entranceway. My boots seemed to glide over the polished stone steps that led into the giant, sparsely decorated main hall I used to work in. Men and woman in uniform bustled in and out of the door in constant motion, somehow making the large space feel cramped. Rows of desks stacked with different colored files ran down the length of the room right up to the steps of the second floor. I clumsily slipped through the stream of moving bodies and stopped at a long counter where a balding man sat behind an ancient looking computer, too engrossed in whatever he was doing to notice my approach.
I cleared my throat. “Good morning.”
“One moment. Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Parker.”
He gestured to a row of benches along the opposite wall without looking up. “I’ll let him know you’re here. Please take a seat.”
I sat down on an unoccupied double bench, shifting my weight back and forth as I watched the varied assortment of people walking by. It was one of my favorite ways to pass time. As each person brushed by I tried to pick out something unique or unusual about each of them. It was a simple exercise I learned years ago training for the job. The tall officer pacing back and forth near the closest desk had a tiny ink stain on his shirt. An old man entering through the door had a raising block under his right shoe. The pretty redhead’s makeup was smeared, most likely from crying.
