DREAMS of 18
Page 37
After every meal, a tech stays with Renn for about an hour to see that she’s keeping her food down. She’s known to give them the slip and throw up every chance she gets. She’s super proud of her pokey bones and the fact that you can count all her ribs.
“Or you can shut up about it and not force us to listen to what is clearly one of the most inappropriate things ever,” Penny chimes in, glaring at her from across the table.
She’s got a book in her hands and up until this second, her eyes were glued to it and her lips were moving as she muttered the words to herself.
Penny, aka Penelope Clarke. She was the second person I talked to after I got here. Actually, all we did was say hi to each other after Renn introduced us, and Penny went back to doing what she always does: read.
From what I’ve gathered in my time here, Penny loves reading. I love reading too so I definitely get that. But her love and my love are vastly different.
For Penny, reading is oxygen. She can’t live without it. She needs to be reading something or I’ve seen her get shivery.
On the Outside, she read textbooks; she was a pre-med. On the Inside, she reads all the cookbooks that she can find in the small library. She says it’s to keep her mind sharp and active for when she gets out of here in fall. A few weeks after me.
Penny suffers from crippling anxiety with a touch of paranoia mixed in there. When she failed one of her classes, which she claims was a set-up against her, she broke down. Renn told me she tore pages out of her biochemistry textbook and ate them. Literally.
“Um, hello. How’s liking someone inappropriate?” Renn turns her focus on Penny.
“He’s a tech and you’re a patient.” Penny flicks the page angrily. “Not to mention, he’s married and older. You’re not supposed to like him.”
“Well, as Willow said, I like him because he’s married. It’s a sickness. My heart happens to beat for him, okay?”
“Oh please.” Penny rolls her eyes. “Last week your heart beat for that homophobe with homicidal ideation from The Batcave.”
“Roger isn’t a homophobe. He was assaulted by a man. Excuse him for not liking it up his ass and being angry about it!”
Penny’s ready with a retort and I’ve had it. I know if I don’t stop them, they’ll go on for hours. That’s what Renn and Penny do. They fight.
I don’t like fights. It’s bad for my inner equilibrium and everyone’s peace. And I’m the peacekeeper and the avoider of confrontation.
So I raise my arm in the air like a referee and blurt out the very first thing that comes into my head. “Simon Blackwood.”
“What?” Renn turns to me, frowning.
“If you guys stop fighting, I’ll tell you,” I say.
“You have gossip.” Renn’s eyes widen.
Shrugging, I say, “I might have some, yes.”
“Oh my God, tell us!”
Again, Penny rolls her eyes. “Really, Willow? I didn’t know you were interested in gossip. I thought only Renn was the blabbermouth.”
“Hey, don’t call me blabbermouth. Let her talk,” Renn admonishes.
“Don’t fight.” I stab my finger at both of them. When they both nod, I say, “So I heard the nurses saying that a new guy might be coming in. I mean, they didn’t sound very happy about it. Beth never told them and they’re like, nurses are always the last to find out and –”
“Oh God, who’s coming?” Renn stops my rambling.
“Right.” I clear my throat. “Someone named Simon Blackwood.”
Simon. Blackwood.
I roll that name around in my head.
If names were an indication of someone’s personality, then this Simon Blackwood would be strong, masculine, and regal. But then, names aren’t everything.
Take me, for example. Willow clearly, isn’t the name for me. Although, I can’t imagine what else could be my name.
“Is he like, The Blackwood?” Penny asks.
“What is The Blackwood? What does that mean?” I ask.
“How can you not know what The Blackwood means?” Renn’s face scrunches up in disgust. “He’s the guy who founded this place, Willow. Dr. Alistair Blackwood. Well, you know, along with Dr. Martin. I bet Simon Blackwood is related to him in some way.”
Dr. Martin is the psychiatrist in here who oversees things. I’ve only met with him once, when I first got in and thank God for that. I generally spend my time with a therapist or in group therapy.
Doctors are the worst kind of people. Pretentious, arrogant, obnoxious. Most of them have a God-complex. They think everyone needs saving and they are the only one who can do it.
They think that they can ruin your life whenever they want to. Turn your mom against you because they really think you’d benefit from in-patient treatment.
Fucking assholes.
I shift in my seat, feeling embarrassed. “Well, I just heard the nurses talking.”
Renn sits back with a smile. “Oooh. Do you think he’s a doctor too?”
“Could be.” This comes from Penny.
Damn it.
If someone new is coming, I don’t want them to be a doctor. This stupid hospital doesn’t need another evil overlord.
Renn widens her eyes before craning her neck toward the door, as if whoever Simon is, he’s gonna come striding in. “Oh my God, I’m so intrigued. Oh, please let him be handsome. And older. Like, at least ten years older. I’ve got a thing for older guys,” she informs us, like we don’t know.
“Or maybe he’s not a doctor. He’s a patient. Not everyone follows in their parents’ footsteps,” I say.
“Whatever. I just want him to be older.”
“Yes, let him be older,” I agree and Renn fist-pumps. And then, just to tease her, I add, “Oh, and wrinkled. Yup, a wrinkled old man who farts twice every hour.”
Renn flips me the bird and my smile widens.
“Why don’t you guys want me to eat?” Penny pushes her tray away in disgust. “If he’s a doctor, then this kind of talk is inappropriate.”
“How about we bet on it? We can play for lime jello.” Renn grins.
On the Outside, I hated lime jello. It looks like puke, tastes like puke. It’s plain puke. But on the Inside, it’s all I ever wanna eat. I don’t know why.
Could be the meds. They started me on a new cocktail as soon as I got here and that’s always a disaster. My first week here wasn’t pretty what with all the withdrawal-like symptoms that I went through after being taken off my old meds. They say my drugs aren’t addictive but still, it felt like I was attacked by a stomach bug.
Meds have fucked with my life a lot. My body is thirty percent me, and the other seventy is what meds made me. I wouldn’t be surprised if they fucked my palate too. Renn calls it The Heartstone Effect; fuckery of drugs and psychotherapy.
Penny thinks about Renn’s offer. “Fine. My money’s on a new doctor, only five years older than Renn,” she says, before picking up her book and resuming reading.
Renn sticks her tongue out at her, before turning to the fourth occupant of our table. “What about you, Vi? You want in on this?”
Vi, aka Violet Moore. She doesn’t talk much. In fact, she’s the one I’ve got a lot of things in common with. She’s quiet. She’s more or less invisible. People pass her by without noticing.
But unlike me, I think she chooses to be invisible. It’s because she’s grieving. Her fiancé died a few months ago and she might as well have died with him. No one knows what caused his death, not even Renn, and I haven’t had the courage to ask Vi.
I wish I could.
I wish I could ask her what she thinks about when she stares out the window. She clearly isn’t watching the rain like me. I wish I could ask her why she always has an empty chair next to her. Is it for her fiancé? Is she waiting for him as if he were alive and might walk over any second to take his place?
When Renn calls her name, Vi turns away from the window, br
inging her flat brown eyes to us. “I’m with Renn. He’s a handsome new doctor with at least fifteen years on us.”
“Perfect. I’m so excited,” Renn squeals.
Just as Renn sets out the rules, Beth enters the hall. She’s Dr. Martin’s wife and the hospital administrator.
Usually, she has a smile on her weathered face but today she looks a tiny bit frazzled. “Happy Monday, everyone,” she begins, her greeting sounding less than enthusiastic. “Hope we’re all doing well and enjoying our breakfast.”
At this, she gets cut off as a couple of people boo her. It doesn’t deter her, though. “I tell you this with a very heavy heart, that…” She sighs. “Friday night, Dr. Martin suffered a sudden heart attack and had to be hospitalized over the weekend, and…”
She swallows, trying to gather herself, as a shock wave runs through the room. “And, well, he’s doing fine right now, and he’s expected to make a full recovery. But it means that he won’t be able to come back to work for a few weeks.”
The murmurs and boos that had died down before Beth started talking come back to life, louder, more agitated.
Even though I’m not the one contributing to the ruckus, I’m kind of shocked, too. He was fine the last time I saw him. He smiled at me in the hallway, his white mop of hair glinting in the afternoon sun that was filtering through the big window in the TV room. He was chatting with a few patients, who all looked at him like he hung the moon. For them, he probably did.
He is super popular with the patients and the staff.
I remember thinking, how can you love your doctor? I mean, he’s a doctor. A psychiatrist, no less. Someone who prescribes you meds and arranges your life in a series of therapy sessions. But even I wouldn’t wish any harm on him.
Beth manages to calm people down with the help of techs and continues, “I know you guys are upset and I understand. Of course I do. I’m upset, too. Some of you have been very close to him, and I promise you he’s fine. I’ll let him know how much you guys love him. He’ll appreciate that.”
Smiling sadly, she takes in a deep breath. “But for now, I’m here to tell you that we’ve been very fortunate to have found a replacement for him. He’s due to arrive today and he’s an excellent doctor. I’m sure you guys will love him, and everybody will get along in this difficult time, okay?” She shoots a couple of pointed stares around the room. “If you have any questions, come find me or any of the staff members. We’re all here to help you.”
She’s ready to leave when Renn calls out, “Hey, Beth! Who’s the new guy? The one we’re supposed to love and get along with.”
Beth turns around and raises her eyebrows. “Right. Thank you, Renn, for shouting out that question. The doctor you’re supposed to love and get along with is Dr. Blackwood. Dr. Simon Blackwood. He’s coming to us from Boston. Mass General, to be specific. They have one of the most reputable psych departments in the country.” She throws a pointed stare again. “As I said, you’re in more than excellent hands.”
With that, she leaves, and noises recommence.
Renn murmurs, “Well, we already guessed the doctor part. Ugh. Is he age-appropriate for me to fantasize about or not?”
Penny spits back, “He’s a doctor. All talk about his looks is off-limits.”
They begin fighting but I tune them out. I’m frozen, trapped by the sound of a name.
Simon Blackwood.
Dr. Simon Blackwood.
He’s a doctor.
Actually, no. He’s an excellent doctor.
And he’s coming here.
Damn it.
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