The Units

by Jamie Mackay

  ***

  Disappointed with the lack of fulfillment from her experience with Grand Rounds, Tatum arrived at work Friday morning, definitely looking forward to finally seeing the inside of Unit Six.

  "Good morning Marja," she called to the desk clerk with a full face smile.

  Starting to feel very familiar with Tatum, Marja called back "Good morning beautiful," as she buzzed Tatum through to the locked side of the Admin building.

  Tatum went directly to her office, intent on making sure she knew exactly when and where she was supposed to be for the day. Boardroom 8:30, Dr. Glaser, she read, Unit Six tour 9:00. Tatum quickly re-locked her computer and headed down to the boardroom, skipping her usual trip to the Keurig machine. She didn't need more caffeine this morning; the prospect of getting a peek at Unit Six was stimulant enough.

  As per usual, Tatum was in the boardroom before Tim. When he entered, she was pleasantly surprised to see Anne following along behind.

  "Didn't have much on the schedule today so thought I'd come along for the ride," the friendly nurse said. "I hope you don't mind," she winked at Tatum knowing full well Tatum would like nothing more.

  "Where are we going to start?" Tatum asked, trying not to appear overly anxious.

  "We can start with getting your FOB updated so you can get in. You currently don't have access, right?" Tim asked.

  Tatum felt her heart speed up; she was getting access.

  "No sir, not yet. Where do we do that?"

  "I told you enough with the sir stuff," Tim demanded in a light tone. "Marja can take care of that for us."

  With that, Tim, Anne, and Tatum re-traced their morning steps back to Marja's desk where Tatum's FOB was finally made to include access to Unit Six.

  "See," Anne said quietly to Tatum."It just takes time."

  The entrance to Unit Six worked differently than the entrances to the other Units Tatum had visited. There was an inside entrance similar to the other units, but Tim explained "We don't use this entrance. All access to U6 goes through the main outside door."

  As they passed by the inner access point, Tatum noticed the lack of a FOB reader. All of the other units had the FOB reader easily available near the interior entry point. She assumed the lack of interior access was to maintain a sense of separation between the clinical units and the more publically available research unit.

  "We will have to head outside to get back in," instructed Tim.

  As the rest of the week had been, Friday was intensely hot and Tatum needed to catch her breath as she stepped outside. She watched her two companions closely and could see no evidence that they lost their breath in the heat. I guess it will come she thought, assuming eventually she would have to become acclimatized to the scorching sun.

  The outer entrance to the research unit was familiar to Tatum; she had run by it several times and it looked remarkably similar to the other outer entrances. The three workers ascended the marble staircase and entered through the grandly decorated main doors.

  Laid out exactly the same as the administration unit, there was a younger woman sitting where Marja would have sat in the other unit.

  "Morning Lisa," Anne called to the research unit desk clerk.

  "Morning Anne. Tim," said Lisa. It was obvious from her tone that, like Tatum, Lisa had a soft spot for the rosy happy Anne. "And, who's this?" the clerk continued.

  Anne began, "this is Dr. O'Neill, Tatum O'Neill, she's the new psych intern. Gonna be spending Fridays with you guys, so we're here to show her around."

  "Hi Tatum," Lisa responded. "Welcome."

  Tatum thought Lisa seemed friendly. They must pick the nice ones to welcome the public, she thought. Dr. Gagnon could never do that job. She smiled to herself and chose to keep her thoughts to herself.

  Tim and Anne followed Tatum through the first door leading to the secure side of the unit. Tatum was pleased to be given the opportunity to try out her new access. The secure side of the unit reminded Tatum of any other research unit she'd ever seen. Hallways led to meeting rooms and offices. Official looking people in lab coats made their way around carrying clip boards and looking as if they had somewhere important to be.

  As Tim led her through the maze of passageways, Tatum noted that observation suites were much more plentiful in the research center as compared to on the clinical units. Anne must have noticed her scrutinizing the suites.

  "They are used regularly here. Lots of the studies involve interventions, so the sessions are either observed directly or taped and then coded. On the clinical units, they are only needed for teaching purposes, as you by now well know."

  In one of the observation suites, Tatum saw a research assistant timing and making notes as a group session happened on the other side of the one-way mirror.

  "How about we start with the CBT study?" Tim asked Anne.

  "Good idea. Tatum obviously you're familiar with CBT?" she asked the intern.

  "For sure, it was one of the main approaches taught at U of I," Tatum responded.

  Anne led her through a door with a sign that read 'Therapy Lab'. Inside she met the primary researcher, Dr. Johnson, a faculty member from University of Redman, a university in a larger center a couple hours north of Wainwright. Tatum learned that he travelled down approximately every second week to check on the projects, but otherwise, the research was led by paid assistants under his direction.

  Dr. Johnson explained, "We currently have three main studies going on. One is looking at outcomes related to time-limited CBT therapy. The second is another outcome study for functional GAD and exposure. The third is a bit less outcome focused. We're looking at rapport-building as a process."

  "Interesting," said Tatum, although none of the studies sounded particularly ground-breaking.

  The second unit they visited was titled the 'Psychopharmacology Lab' and was directed by another faculty member, only this time it was a psychiatrist from one of the universities out east. She directed the facility primarily through videoconferencing and email.

  "She rarely comes here in person. You'll likely never meet her," explained one of the many research assistants busily preparing protocols and entering data.

  The lab was focused exclusively on medication effectiveness research. Randomized controlled trials, something rare during Tatum's training in human service research, were typical here.

  The third and final unit the three employees would visit that day was the 'Assessment Lab'.

  "This will be your lab," explained Tim. "Stan and I both spend time in here. He's of course, the director." Tatum wondered if she caught just a hint of contempt in that last statement. "We primarily do work on norming, protocols, and test development."

  "What are some of the specific studies?" Tatum inquired.

  She glanced at Anne who was silently encouraging her to continue pushing for the information she knew Tatum wanted.

  "Well, for one of the studies - this one here," Tim talked as he walked, "we're working on developing Canadian norms for some of the tests without Canadian equivalents."

  "Oh, yeah. Important stuff." Being American, Tatum had given little thought to how much work went into translating the often American produced tests into equivalents for different contexts.

  At the next set of offices Tim continued, "this one is focused on trying to create better methods for assessing typically diagnosed childhood disorders during adulthood."

  "You mean like ADHD, mental handicap, stuff like that?" Tatum asked.

  "Yeah, we're also trying to get something going for looking at autism in adults. Since you seem to know something about that area, we thought maybe that's where you would fit best. We definitely need some more expertise on these areas."

  Tatum was thrilled at the prospect. "That sounds perfect," she indicated to her brainy mentor.

  Anne smiled and Tatum suddenly realized that her friend had known the whole time that she was to become the resident expert on adult diagnosis of childhood disorders, and she'd tagged along j
ust to see the reaction.

  Knowing that she would be stationed in the Assessment Lab completely altered the detail with which Tatum wanted to view her surroundings. She now wanted to know the ins and outs of every corner of the lab.

  "So is there only existing projects, or are new ones being developed as well?" she asked.

  "Always room for considering anything," Tim answered.

  "How many are currently ongoing? Who are the PIs? When can I start?" Tatum had a million questions.

  Tim tried to answer them all. Anne just smiled.

  .

  After their long and detailed tour through the assessment lab, Tim, Anne and Tatum decided they would have lunch together and talk about possibilities for Tatum's role in the lab. Actually, Tim and Tatum would discuss her role; Anne was just simply enjoying watching her most recent apprentice excitedly anticipate her newest undertaking. For the first time, Tatum ate a sit-down lunch in the cafeteria. Eating in the courtyard was out of the question in the sweltering midday heat that was the most extreme since Tatum's arrival.

  Nearly finished her lunch Tatum's thoughts suddenly shifted to James. In the excitement of her new possibilities at the lab, she had completely forgotten about today's visit. This would be the first day she missed their lunch without any explanation.

  .

  After lunch, Tim and Tatum returned to the lab. They spent the majority of their time in the Assessment Lab, where Tatum asked a thousand more questions and developed just as many new ideas. During her previous research experiences, the projects were primarily driven by the research supervisor. Never before had anyone asked her what types of projects a lab should be focusing on. This excited her. She also met the primary Research Associate, Garry, who was responsible for making sure the lab ran smoothly in the absence of any of the Primary Investigators. He seemed happy to have a new recruit on board.

  "Well, did you get what you came for?" Tim asked Tatum as they left Unit Six and started the short hike outside that led back to the main building.

  "You bet," answered Tatum, "getting to work in the Assessment Lab is really exciting. It's actually even better than I'd hoped."

  "That's great, glad to hear it. Should we call it a day?"

  "Sounds good. See you Monday."

  "Yup, see you Monday."

  .

  Tatum left Tim at the connector between Units Two and Three. Her office was in Unit Three and she actually had no idea where his office was; they had always met in the boardroom. She went to her own office and collected up her things, then headed back into the large room in the center of the Unit.

  "Aren't you docs off the clock at this time of day?" Larry the unit head asked.

  "Yeah, I just have something I need to do before I leave," Tatum responded.

  Larry watched as Tatum made her way over to the window. He followed her. Instead of the usual seating arrangement, James was facing the wall.

  "What's up with him?" asked Tatum.

  "I'm not sure," answered Larry. "After lunch he just sort of slowly slid sideways until he faced himself toward the wall."

  .

  Tatum tossed and turned through the night. She knew well the importance of routine and predictability for individuals with Autism, and she had broken the seminal rule. If the routine changes, lots of warning. She'd learned it well with Michael. She resolved to spend extra time with James on Monday, but it wasn't enough to erase her guilt for her oversight on her last day of work for the week. Just gotta remember to always let him know, she reminded herself.

  .

  Although she'd slept poorly and had thoughts of both James and Michael in the back of her mind, Tatum woke easily and bounded out of bed. Today was her date with Jake. She needed to be up and ready in enough time to get ready and still have coffee with Milligan. Yoga was going to have to wait until next week.

  Her choice of outfit for the morning had been picked out since earlier that week. Tatum knew it was going to be hot, and she wanted to make sure she was going to be comfortable. Her first thought was to layer so that she could remove layers as the heat increased throughout the day. Then Tatum realized that she had the perfect opportunity to wear a sundress she'd had for several years, but nearly never worn. When Sarah married Peter, they had a casual summer wedding and, of course, Tatum had been the maid of honor. Sarah had great taste and for Tatum she had chosen a soft yellow sundress that fell just off the shoulder and just above the knee. Despite the dress being tasteful and pretty, Tatum found that she didn't wear it in Chicago because it felt too untailored for daily wear. But, the dress would be a perfect fit for today, pretty and dressy without being overdone.

  Clean from the shower, Tatum pulled the dress up and zipped the back, but left her tanned legs bare. Remembering that they'd been comfortable for the full day at work, she slipped on the same heeled wedges she'd worn her second day at WMI. She also had her hair style planned out ahead of time. At Sarah's wedding, she'd worn her hair down, with soft tendrils in the front and large curls in the back; it seemed perfect for today. Her makeup was also soft, minimal eye makeup with light pink blush and clear lip gloss.

  Tatum looked in the mirror. It was just right. She looked feminine. Normally, during her working hours, she preferred to look professional. Not masculine, but ultra-feminine was definitely off the table. Today, she was perfectly happy to be all girl and she looked every bit the part.

  "Holy Smokes!" whistled Milligan. "The parade should have you as a float!"

  Tatum blushed. "Thanks Milligan."

  "Maybe you should skip coffee this morning, don't wanna get anything on that pretty dress," he teased.

  "Give me my coffee!" Tatum laughed.

  Milligan's tone turned serious. "How's Michael?"

  "No news yet. I guess no news is good news though, hey?" she answered.

  "Yes, they do say that, don't they? And how about the Research Unit yesterday? How'd that go?"

  Tatum was always amazed at how Milligan paid attention. He never forgot one detail of their conversation, nor did he neglect to follow up on any detail that he heard.

  "It was great," said Tatum, "I saw everything. There were three primary labs from what I could tell. One is a therapy lab run by a researcher from University of Saskatchewan, the second is a psychopharmacology lab run by some faculty member who is never actually here, and the third is the assessment lab, that's where I'll be."

  "Psychopharmawhatagy?"asked Milligan.

  "Psychopharmacology. It's basically pharmaceuticals intended specifically for mental illness."

  "Oh," said Milligan, "you learn something new every day. And so what about the lab you'll be in? What goes on there?"

  "Assessment studies. Basically trying to figure out newer and better ways to do diagnosis of all kinds of things. I may even get to do some Autism stuff, we'll see."

  "That sounds great Tatum. I sure do envy you in all your youth, looking so forward to all of these new experiences. Enjoy it. It doesn't last forever."

  "I will Milligan; I promise."

  "Okay, enough about work. What's going on with you today? You're pretty dressed up for our local parade."

  "Am I overdressed?" Tatum asked self-consciously.

  "No, you look perfect. Absolutely perfect. You go out there and knock the socks off that boy."

  Tatum was still sitting outside drinking coffee with Milligan when Jake pulled up in his black pick-up, the same one he'd used to rescue Tatum from the rain the week before. He stepped out and came directly over to the small coffee locale

  "Well good morning son," Milligan said to Jake.

  "Hello Mr. Milligan," came Jake's polite reply.

  "How's your granddad?"

  "He's well sir."

  "And what about your mom and dad? Still working the farm" Milligan could literally make anyone feel like there was no one in the world he'd rather be talking with - like no one else's life could possibly be of more interest or importance.

  "Of course. Dad will work
the field or he'll drop dead trying," Jake said.

  "Well, I guess that's enough outta me," Milligan said smiling, "She's of much more interest I guess."

  He glanced over at Tatum and with his most fatherly tone said, "you two have a good time today; but not too good."

  Tatum grinned and promised Milligan they'd behave, and then climbed up into Jake's truck.

  .

  Jake's truck was plush and new. Although Tatum had ridden in the same truck the night of the storm, she'd been too distracted to appreciate its value as a mechanism to tell her more about the man she was with. Tatum didn't have much experience with trucks, she'd mostly ridden on subways, but she knew this one had been pricey. It had leather seats and all the bells and whistles, but no 'bling' as they called it back home. No extra chrome bars, no big tires, the truck was strong and understated, just like Jake, Tatum thought. The inside was neat, but not so neat that Tatum would have been concerned. She was pretty certain that she could see some French fries on the floor in the back seat. Probably Brady, she thought and then wished she hadn't thought about his son. She didn't want to think about that right now.

  Country music was playing on the stereo. Tatum had no idea who it was singing, but she knew Shania Twain was a big Canadian star so she took a stab.

  "Is this Shania Twain?" she asked Jake.

  "Umm... no." Jake seemed to be laughing a little at Tatum's expense. "It's Carrie Underwood, you know she's married to Mike Fisher, the hockey player?"

  Of course, now he's a cowboy cliché and a Canadian cliché, hillbilly music and hockey, Tatum thought silently.

  Out loud she simply said, "I haven't really listened to a lot of country. Not really that big where I come from. You'll have to be patient."

  "I can see that," he teased.

  .

  Tatum and Jake were to meet Vinnie and his wife, Maria, at their usual spot. The usual spot turned out to be right in front of the bank on Main Street.

  Once they'd found their way around the other people crowding Main Street and found just the right viewing location for their chairs, Tatum saw Vinnie edging towards them, holding the hand of a pretty Italian woman. When Vinnie and Maria arrived at the spot Tatum and Jake had inhabited, as Tatum expected, Vinnie did most of the talking.

  "Maria, this is Tatum. She's a new doc up at the Units and the proud inhabitant of an apartment with the nicest floors in town." Vinnie grinned.

  "It's so nice to finally meet you. You're even more beautiful than Vinnie said." Maria grabbed Tatum's hands and pulled her in for a hug and kiss on both cheeks, and then backed away. "You're a bit of a celebrity in this town you know?" she said. "The girl who caught the eye of the elusive Jake Mackinley." Maria winked at Jake.

  Maria was a tiny woman with dark hair and dark eyes. She stood only about 5'2" tall, but her slim build and small frame made her appear perfectly proportionate. Typical of women from the Mediterranean, her skin was dark and made even more so by the regular tanning rays of the Wainwright sun. She was wearing white short-shorts and a pale pink tank top that made her dark skin appear even darker. Her hair was pulled completely off her face into a neat ponytail, with just a bit of wispy bangs that softened her thin face. Tatum had several Italian friends in Chicago and Maria struck her as proto-typically Italian. She had a way of being loud and dramatic that made Tatum feel both welcome and familiar.

  Maria continued ribbing Jake. Tatum could tell from their interactions that, like Vinnie and Jake, Maria and Jake were also very close.

  "Yup, when Vinnie told me we were going to meet Jake and a girl, I just about fell off my chair. I think I've introduced him to every woman I know. It's just always work."

  Vinnie continued where his pretty wife had left off. "She ran over him in the grocery store. See Marie, we were just going about it all wrong until now. We should've told those other women to beat him up a little. Apparently he likes it a little rough."

  All four laughed at the teasing of Jake's old friend.

  .

  It was nearing eleven thirty when the first float of the parade started passing by the foursome. The opening float was the city mayor, sitting atop of a combine making its way slowly down Main Street. The second float was the local Shriners, riding mini-bikes and wearing funny hats. Each of the floats had been put together by a local business or organization, all of which were well known to Tatum's company.

  Local dance clubs had created walking dance routines. Not quite Disneyland, but not bad, thought Tatum. She watched in amazement as one by one the floats went by throwing candy to the local children and waving and shouting out to the people lining the streets, most of whom were known to those manning the floats. Tatum had been to parades lots of times in Chicago, but not like this. The parades she had gone to were large and commercialized. The floats were overdone and populated by unknown professionals, trained to entertain.

  This parade was reminiscent of an episode from 'Leave It to Beaver'. The sun was shining as it seemed to always do. Main Street was as quaint and dated as any street Tatum had ever seen in a movie. Small children squealed with glee as they filled their bags to the top with the candy littering the streets.

  Tatum looked at the others. Jake, Vinnie, and Maria seemed to be taking it all in stride; their small town way of life so comfortable for them, and so of very foreign to the stranger in their midst.

  .

  The parade was much longer than Tatum had expected. It was nearing noon and it seemed to be just over half way complete. She was lost in the nostalgia of the moment, absorbed completely in the entertainment of the music and the floats passing in front of her. Suddenly she was pulled abruptly back into the moment.

  "Dad!" she heard someone holler, loud enough to ensure it could be heard over the distraction of the noises created by the people and parade.

  She saw Jake look up, his face turning from minimal expression to a full face smile.

  The voice called out one more time now that Jake was looking, "Hi Dad!"

  "Hi Brady!" Jake called back with the most volume and excitement she had ever heard from the man beside her.

  Tatum looked up to get a glance at the most important person in Jake's life. Brady was waving madly and grinning at his dad, Vinnie, and Maria. Tatum would have put money on the fact that to Brady, they were Uncle Vinnie and Auntie Maria.

  Brady was big for his age, probably got his size from his dad, she thought. His hair was lighter than Jake's but he had the same handsome face that would someday perhaps permit him to take his father's place as Wainwright's most eligible bachelor. He was riding on the Home Hardware float with his great-grandfather, in charge of distributing the candies to the children running about the street.

  "He's his Great-Grandad's most reliable float decoration," Brady's dad said proudly. "He looks forward to it every year."

  Tatum sat quietly for a moment. Seeing Brady made him real. For just a second she wanted to run.

  The parade lasted for about ten more minutes, most of which Tatum didn't remember. Seeing Brady had caught her off-guard and it was taking some time to process.

  Finally, Maria interrupted her thoughts. "He's a good kid Tatum. Jake's pride and joy." Then she whispered quietly to her new friend so Jake couldn't hear, "He's worth it girl. I promise."

  .

  "Well, that's all she wrote," said Vinnie, "Anybody hungry?"

  The foursome agreed that eating sounded like a good idea and started meandering slowly down Main Street, trying to decide on something that suited them all.

  "How does a hot dog sound?" asked Vinnie.

  "Perfect," agreed Tatum. Jake just nodded and smiled.

  Vinnie went first. He purchased a hot dog and Coke each for him and Maria from one of the street vendors still set up from after the parade. Jake went next. He had confirmed with Tatum that a hot dog and Coke would work for her, and then he ordered for them both. Tatum offered to pay, but was refused. Unless it was a special occasion, she and Niko always had paid their sep
arate ways. Happily munching their recently purchased fare, the foursome continued to wonder down Main Street, simply enjoying the sunshine, good food and good company.

  Around one, Vinnie and Maria departed, saying something about needing to get home to the kids.

  "So we'll see you at the fair around sevenish?" Vinnie had asked before they left.

  "Sure," Jake answered, "Sounds good. If you're still up for it Tatum?" he looked expectantly at his date.

  "You bet," she answered, "A small town fair. It's on my bucket list; wouldn't miss it for the world."

  .

  Once Vinnie and Maria had gone, Tatum and Jake once again had to adjust to sharing space alone. This time Jake broke the initial silence.

  "Do you have plans for the rest of the day? I could take you home and pick you up later. Unless," he seemed nervous, "you'd like to spend the day with me?"

  "I have nothing planned for this afternoon. I was actually hoping you might take me out to see some of what you do."

  "Like what?" Jake asked.

  "Well, at some point you mentioned your office on Main Street and also the oil operation where your great-grandfather homesteaded. Could we go for a bit of a tour?"

  "Are you sure that's what you want to spend your afternoon doing? Doesn't seem very exciting to me," said Jake.

  "I'm just interested in getting a feel for who you are and what you do," explained Tatum. "But we don't have to; if it's not something you want to do."

  "I'm happy to do anything you want. As long as I get to spend some time with you," said Jake timidly.

  Tatum blushed and said, "Ditto."

  .

  Just as Tatum had requested, Jake took her first to his office on Main Street. He was right, it wasn't much. The outside of the building, the old fire Hall, was the most impressive part of the now run-down store and office building. Jake's office was above the pharmacy and doctor's office Tatum had been able to see from the street during her tour on her first day in Wainwright. It seemed as if little had changed since the days when the building housed the town's fire department so that, even though much of the structure obviously needed some renovation, history surrounded the couple.

  Jake took Tatum up to his office; it took up nearly half of the upper floor. In the center of the reception area, there was an odd fenced-off zone that looked out of place in the otherwise business-type environment.

  "What's with the fencing in the middle of the office," asked Tatum.

  "The old fire pole. I've never had the heart to remove it, so now it just stays there and provides a conversation piece," Jake smiled. "We can slide down it on our way out if you like?"

  "You bet I'd like!" answered Tatum, making a mental note not to let Jake forget his promise on their way out.

  The rest of the office was relatively unremarkable. The front reception area held a standard receptionist's desk complete with phone, fax machine and computer. The decorating in the front office had obviously been completed more recently than in the rest of the building, but remained extremely simple with gray commercial carpeting and off-white walls. Jake's office was behind the reception desk. It was a small space, also very simple with basic industrial carpet and paint. The only items that provided an air of hominess to the office were Jake's well endowed bookcase, boasting shelves full of complicated business and legal texts, and his pictures that livened up his desk and office walls.

  On his desk Jake had two pictures, a recent one of Brady, and an obviously dated picture of Julia, holding Brady as a baby. On his walls, Jake had placed pictures of immediate and extended family. The only face Tatum recognized for sure was that of Pete, Home Hardware Pete. Possibly overstepping her bounds, Tatum stepped closer to get a better look at the picture of Julia.

  "Oh Jake, she was stunning," said Tatum, and she meant it.

  In the picture in front of her she saw a woman of perhaps twenty-five at the time. She had shoulder length sandy blonde hair and eyes that were the truest green Tatum had ever seen. The picture Jake had on his desk showed her holding Brady as a baby, looking down at him with an expression only a mother can make.

  "Yes, she was," was all he said in response. "Seen enough? Ready to go?" he asked.

  "Sure," Tatum answered, wishing to change the tone back to before she had seen the picture. "How about that pole?" she requested.

  Jake smiled at her, pleased at her childish request, "You bet. Let's go."

  .

  At the top of the pole, Jake pulled a handle that made some doors in the floor fly open. Tatum supposed they must have been designed to move quickly so that the fire fighters would have no hesitation as they descended.

  "You first," she said wanting to have him demonstrate how it should be done.

  "Okay, see you down there," Jake replied as he grabbed the pole and swung himself around so that he landed only seconds later.

  "Now it's your turn," he hollered up to Tatum.

  She hesitantly attempted to follow Jake's athletic and fluid motion so that she could descend with some degree of gracefulness; but instead found herself simply holding on for dear life, hoping her dress didn't end up above her head.

  When she reached the bottom, Tatum lost her balance. From behind, Jake put out his arm and grabbed her so that she didn't fall. Flustered, Tatum stood up quickly while Jake asked, "Are you alright?"

  "Yeah, I'm okay," Tatum answered, but privately she was thinking about Jake's strong arms around her waist. Actually, now I'm definitely better than okay, she thought.

  .

  The next stop that Tatum had requested was the Mackinley Oil Trust at the family's homestead. To get there Jake and Tatum drove just under an hour toward what she thought was southeast of town. In between, there were wheat fields followed by more wheat fields, with an occasional oil well thrown in for decoration. Finally, they came to a small community and Jake slowed his truck nearly to a stop; he drove through the tiny town slowly, talking as he drove.

  "This is Collingwood. My grandparents homesteaded near here and my dad grew up and met my mom in this town. Not too much left now. That's the store and post office; probably the only remaining functional business here now. This used to be the main drag, but as you can see, most of it has either closed or been torn down. That over there is the church my parents were married in," he pointed to a small white chapel that would hold maybe a maximum of fifteen people. "Over there, in that house, I think I'm related to those people. God knows how. I think everybody here is kind of related in some way or another."

  Tatum was amazed at the sparseness of the place he'd brought her to. In her world, people were everywhere. This was something like she'd never seen.

  As Jake neared the end of town, he sped up his pace so that the truck started throwing up rocks from the gravel roads lining the fields. Tatum was lost, everything looked the same. Jake seemed to know every corner, every road. Finally, Tatum could see a larger industrial looking area in the distance.

  "There it is," said Jake, "Not much to see."

  As he drove closer, Tatum could see the size and scope of the development; oil wells, followed by buildings, followed by more oil wells.

  "That's what started it all," Jake explained. He stopped the truck and they got out to walk around.

  Jake was right there really wasn't much to see, and it was hot.

  "This is the first one. All the rest followed as they realized the oil was everywhere under the ground," he explained as he toured her through the maze of oil wells and buildings. Then Tatum heard a voice, "Hi Mr. Mackinley, what are you doing out here on a weekend?"

  "Hi John," said Jake. "This is Tatum; she wanted a tour."

  "Nice to meet you ma'am," said the worker, "It's nice to have a visitor. But, like Mr. Mackinley said, ‘Not much to see’."

  Tatum suddenly felt kind of important. I'm with 'Mr. Mackinley', oil executive, she thought as she admired the soft-spoken, handsome man walking beside her.

  The rest of the tour was, as promised, pretty bori
ng; more oil wells, more buildings. They went through pretty quickly because the late afternoon sun was the hottest of the day.

  "Getting hungry?" Jake asked Tatum.

  She hadn't really thought about eating, but now that he mentioned it, she was starting to feel like she could eat.

  "Yah, should we grab something before it's time to meet back up with Vinnie and Maria?"

  "That's what I was thinking. What do you feel like?"

  "Something cool," was Tatum's only request.

  .

  The air conditioned environment of Jake's pickup was a delightful treat as they drove back past the wheat fields and came close to the edge of town. They had talked through the afternoon and so they rode back to town in a comfortable silence. Silence was welcomed by, but foreign to Tatum. When she and Niko drove together, he always talked and she always listened. It was almost forever about work.

  "How do burgers and shakes sound?" Jake asked as they closed-in on the center of Wainwright.

  "Perfect."

  Jake led the way to a small bus beside the swimming pool.

  Tatum was confused. "We're eating at a bus?" she asked with bewilderment.

  "Sort of," Jake laughed. "Every summer Rob and Linda, the people that run the pool, put up this converted bus as a concession for the kids. They call it the 'Burger Bus' and sell only things that parents don't want kids to have."

  Tatum could see that Jake was right. The now pink-coloured mini bus boasted hamburgers, hotdogs, slurpees, ice cream and other delicious, but less than health-conscious, summer treats.

  "Well," said Jake. "Go ahead, pick something your mom wouldn't approve of."

  Tatum smiled. "I'll have a bacon burger, onion rings and a strawberry shake," said Tatum.

  "That's my girl. No glass of water and dry salad for you," Jake teased.

  There was a reason Tatum wasn't quite as thin as her sister, but Jake thought it was great. He ordered the same thing as Tatum, except his shake was chocolate. The cool ice cream drink tasted perfect. The picnic table they sat at was in the shade, but the heat still packed a powerful punch.

  The afternoon had gone quickly and the relative cool of the early evening felt refreshing. Tatum and Jake finished up their dinner and then headed over to meet up with Vinnie and Maria. They parked and walked the couple of blocks necessary to get into the fair grounds. As they walked they talked.

  "So, how come you have time to take me to the fair? Isn't this something you should be doing with Brady?" Tatum asked.

  "Yah, every year up till this one. This is the first year that he's dumped me for his buddies, but I think it might be the first of many. He went with his friend Kevin; I think he's planning to sleep over."

  Tatum nodded. "Well, I for one am glad he's too cool for his dad," she added. Jake smiled.

  .

  Vinnie and Maria were waiting for the twosome right at the front gate. Tatum and Jake walked past the local arena and then caught up with the energetic couple at the entrance.

  "What should we do first? Do we wanna go on a ride? Maybe play a game? Should we get a slurpee?" Vinnie said.

  Tatum and Jake once again shared a private smile at Vinnie's expense.

  "Vinnie, hun, one thing at a time," Maria instructed her high-strung partner.

  "I'm happy to do anything," said Tatum. She was content just being there; she just wanted the experience of a small town fair.

  "Hey Vinnie," someone would call out, followed by an "Oh, hey Jake, hey Maria."

  Everywhere they went, someone yelled out salutations to her companions. She also thought she noticed the residents that called salutations were also inspecting the pretty blond with Jake. Just like at yoga, a circus animal in Wainwright's ring, Tatum thought laughing to herself.

  .

  The foursome started their evening by going on a few rides. Tatum suspected that none of them were really looking forward to being upside down, they weren't kids after all, but no-one wanted to be the only one to chicken out. Once they had the rides out of the way, they each chose an ice cream cone and the evening became more mellow. Jake won Tatum a toy she didn't really want and Vinnie bought one for Maria; he couldn't hit the target. The evening started to draw to a close and Maria ended the night with an instruction for Jake.

  "Now I know why you took so much time. Deep down, you must've been waiting for that someone special. You sure know how to pick 'em. Hold on to this one Jakester; she's a good one." Maria smiled at Tatum.

  .

  Jake and Tatum drove the few blocks to her apartment and then Jake parked and walked her to the entrance. As they walked, Tatum felt Jake reach for her hand. Walking slowly with their fingers entwined, Tatum decided it was about time. At the doorway, she felt like a teenager, anxious about her first kiss with the tall, handsome man standing over her.

  "I had a really nice time today," she said to Jake.

  "Me too," he replied.

  Jake leaned hesitantly in. Tatum lifted her face and closed her eyes expecting his lips to touch hers. To her surprise, Jake politely kissed her on her cheek and said "Good night Tatum" and then turned back toward his truck and drove away.

  .

  For the first night in many, she went to sleep thinking only positive thoughts. Reliving her day with Jake prevented thoughts of Michael from interrupting her deep slumber. She awoke from a long and restorative sleep. Tatum got up, dressed in her running clothes, pulled her hair into a ponytail and left her apartment for her first Sunday morning run since her arrival.

  Still riding on the high from the day before, her run felt good, fast and smooth. She ran the perimeter of town as she usually did, and then decided to add in an on-foot tour of the WMI grounds. The last time she had toured the grounds was her first time at the institution, and her desire to remain incognito had prevented her from touring the outer aspects of the facility in any detail.

  Today, like days past, Tatum was shocked by the estate-like grand beauty of the lands surrounding the institution. But today, as she walked through the outdoor common areas, Tatum saw for the first time how the grounds remained so perfectly groomed.

  She normally remained indoors during the day while she was at the institution and consequently, she had little experience with the typical daily activities of the patients, especially those that happened outdoors. This morning, Tatum saw patients roaming the grounds with an orderly assigned to each group of three or four residents. The patients were mowing, weeding and grooming; each patient effectively completing an assigned task that had obviously been completed many times before.

  Obviously the U3 crew, Tatum thought as she observed the individuals completing their duties. She saw Liz Crandall with a pair of shears, creating identical perfectly shaped cedars to line the edges of the driveway. Kory Atchenson was mowing the lawn, his anger and swearing drowned out by the sound of the machinery. She saw the woman who'd been rocking in the corner; she sat on her haunches weeding a flower garden. Finally, Tatum had a glimpse of James. He was sitting on the grass, staring at his fingers as they moved. She assumed he had been excused from grounds labor because both his hands and his eyes were perpetually busy, rendering gardening or other tasks virtually impossible.

  Not wanting to disrupt the tranquil scene uncharacteristic of the Unit Three patients, Tatum continued her run. She finished the perimeter of WMI and then sprinted at full speed on the return home. Seeing James had rekindled her frustration about Michael and the oversight about her lunchtime visit on Friday; running at full speed seemed to help.

  .

  Tired and sweaty, Tatum pulled up a chair. Milligan passed her the morning's first cup, hoping she'd have several more.

  "How was your run? You don't usually go on Sundays, do you?" He asked to get the conversation going.

  "Sometimes, depends on the Sunday," Tatum replied. "I felt like I needed it today."

  "Is that a good thing?" asked her caring friend.

  "Started out that way. But then I ran by the grounds, rem
inded me of Michael."

  "How is he anyway?"

  "I'm not really sure. I think my mom is trying to protect me by not telling me the truth; she just keeps telling me not to come."

  "And how about yesterday, how did that go?"

  Tatum had expected that question. "It was actually wonderful. Just like you said, he's a good guy. We went to the parade, then he took me for a bit of a tour of where he works, and then we finished with the fair."

  Talking about her date with Jake started to resurrect Tatum's positive mood. "Didn't kiss me good night though. What's up with that?" she said in a joking fashion.

  "He's an old-fashioned guy Tatum; you're going to have to be patient," Milligan explained knowingly.

  .

  After coffee, Tatum showered and had breakfast. As a consequence of preparing her morning meal, she realized that getting groceries was going to have to be her primary objective for the day, whether she liked it or not. She headed out to the Co-op, prepared to only get what she could carry home in bags this time. As she marched down the street toward her destination, Tatum caught a glance of Jake's pickup truck a few blocks ahead, turning into the grocery store where they had first met.

  She could see two heads in the front seat. Tatum concealed herself and watched as Jake and Brady lowered themselves out of their respective seats. Jake put his arm protectively around Brady and his son looked up at him, knowing that he was the center of his father's universe. The two walked together side by side into the grocery store.

  Tatum's heart sank. She thought about Brady's face on the float the day before, she thought about the picture of Julia looking only as a mother could, and then she thought about Jake, sweet Jake, who, along with his son, deserved more than she could give. I'll tell him when he calls, she thought.

  The rest of Sunday went by slowly, thoughts of Jake and her decision to break it off dominating her day. Tatum was fairly certain he would call at some point that evening, and she remained by the phone just in case.

  .

  After waiting for Jake and Brady to leave the grocery store, she had gone and gotten herself provisions to refill her cupboards. She prepared dinner for one and then sat down at her computer, once again to kill time while she waited. She returned to the articles about Julia's death. Many of the articles were simply news reports describing the horrific events, but eventually Tatum's search uncovered several of the conspiracy theory sites that she had happened upon during previous searches. All the crazy people are definitely not in institutions, she thought as she quickly scanned some of the discussion on the conspiracy forums. On the more reputable sites Tatum found stories of WMI's history.

  When WMI was built it was considered one of the largest and most important buildings in the British Commonwealth, the websites said. The websites also talked about the huge numbers of patients that resided in the institution and some of the horrifying interventions used as 'treatment'. There were stories of something called 'Work and Water'; a treatment approach that consisted of a combination of labour and water exposure. The work part was self-explanatory. As she read, Tatum thought about the patients working in the grounds earlier that day. Water exposure was described as a repetitive process of placing patients in scalding hot water, followed by freezing cold ice water. This was repeated several times a day in an effort to reduce symptoms of mental illness.

  She came across stories of experimental drugs being used on patients, lobotomies, experimental surgeries, and sexual abuse. Tatum was appalled at what she was reading, but relieved to know that those 'treatments' only existed in the institution's history books. Dreadful interventions like these were a thing of the past, something she'd learned about in her 'History of Psychology' Class.

  .

  Finally, sometime around eight, Tatum's searching and reading was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

  "Hello," she said quickly. She'd had the cordless phone right beside her, just in case.

  "Hi Tatum, it’s Jake," said the voice on the other end of the line.

  "Hi Jake," she said, not wanting to have the conversation that she knew was about to take place.

  "I had a really nice time yesterday," he said.

  "Me too," Tatum answered sadly.

  He continued, "I have to go to the States this week, but I wanted to talk to you before I left. I would like to invite you to dinner next weekend, doesn't matter which night. I thought you could come over to my place, meet Brady and my family? My mom said she'll cook, that way you won't have to eat my cooking," he said in a light, joking tone.

  Tatum felt queasy.

  "Jake, I'm so sorry for what I'm about to say."

  Silence on the other end of the line.

  "I have given this so much thought, and I'm not ready for this."

  More silence.

  "I am going to go back to Chicago at the end of my internship, and you deserve to be with someone who can offer you a future. I can't see you anymore."

  "I see," was the only response.

  "Goodbye Jake."

  "Goodbye Tatum."

  Tatum hung up the phone. Suddenly, work, Michael's illness and the loss of Jake overwhelmed her. She cried until she fell asleep.