by Dawn Brazil
“I could go for some TV,” I say. I hate TV. She smiles like she’s pleased with herself. Obviously, she wasn’t one of the people I beat before I went to VOLT, unless her method for getting even is killing me with kindness.
We arrive at the TV room and she drops my hand and pats my shoulder. “See you around, hun. Just not in the computer room, please.” She smiles and bounces away on her toes.
The room is almost vacant. Only two other people occupy the space. A girl and a guy sit close on a large leather sofa in front of the medium-sized TV mounted to the wall. I scoot in beside them but keep my distance on the other end.
The girl doesn’t blink in my direction but the guy turns and his mouth falls open as he stares at me.
Weird much?
“Hey—I remember you, dudette,” he says, smiling like we’re old friends. I stop looking at him with the hope that he’ll return the favor. He doesn’t, and his bizarre gawking is making my head pound more than it already has been.
“I don’t know you. I’m sure you’re a nice kid, but can you please let me watch TV?”
“I know you,” he says, as if that gives him the right to gape at me more. “I know you. Seriously, Robin.” He pulls on the girl's hair who sits beside him.
“Stop pulling my hair, you ignoramus!” the girl, whose name must be Robin, yells. “You don’t know her. You don’t know anyone.”
“I do. I do. I do.” I peel myself away from the sofa slowly. Just as I reach the hatch, the weirdo yells. “Remember me in VOLT?"
Chapter 57
I spin around so fast, I lose my footing and fall to the floor. I lunge from the linoleum to the sofa. “What—what did you say?”
“I do. I do. I do,” he says repeatedly.
He jumps to his feet and Robin yells at him to sit. He doesn’t. He dances around in front of the TV and yells, “I know her. I know her, I know her…”
“Do you see what you did? Why don’t you leave? Go comb your hair or something.” She jumps to her feet and runs from the room yelling for a tech.
I stand beside the sofa, upset I can’t think of anything witty to say in response to her insult. The whole time, the dude keeps dancing in front of the TV yelling how he knows me. I almost laugh.
“Hey simper down, Anthony,” a big burly guy says, walking into the room.
“I know her, I know her!” he wails.
“That’s nice, little dude. Let’s not scare her on her first day back.”
I want to say so much to Anthony, I feel like I might explode with questions. Anthony screams and runs around Burly guy with his hands in the air, still chanting how he knows me. He doesn’t mention VOLT again, but I’m sure I heard him say it.
The woman tech reaches for Anthony but trips, and Burly guy has to catch her before she hits the floor. During this commotion, Robin rolls her eyes and exits the room. I’m planted beside the couch still, hoping Anthony mentions VOLT again.
Anthony runs over and beams up at me. “Don’t let the reapers get ya.” I suck in a shocked breath. I push my hands out and grab Anthony ’s face between them. He stops dancing around.
“If you don’t stop causing a scene, a reaper might come here to get you,” I say.
“Nuh uh,” Anthony squeals. “They can’t get out. Only we can get in.” I keep my hands planted at both his cheeks.
“Stop acting crazy,” I whisper. “I need to know about VOLT." Burly guys snatches Anthony from my grasp.
“Am too crazy. But never going back there again,” Anthony yells. “Never. Never. Ever.”
Big Burly orderly steps in between us. He takes Anthony by the shoulders and turns him around.
“Wait, I need to talk to him,” I yell.
“Nope,” says burly guy.
“Please, really quick,” I say following them to the threshold of the room.
“Go watch TV. Anthony here needs to calm down.” He and the other tech cart him away while he sings about never going back at the top of his lungs.
Another wasted lead.
I head back to my room with slumped shoulders and a massive headache. When I enter, both my roommates are seated on their beds and their eyes are glued to Leslie, the loud girl with the red afro and freckles from earlier, as she talks. I clamber onto my bed and fall back on my pillow.
Leslie drones on and on about something. I smash a pillow over my head to drown out her voice. It doesn’t work. Bri shouts, “What about the giant robot you told us about?” I toss the pillow to the side and look up at Leslie.
“That’s it for story time today, ladies,” Leslie says, eyeing me.
“Wait!” I yell. Izzy sneers at me and Bri jumps like I startled her.
“What do you want, Ms. Porter?” Leslie asks. My mouth falls open for a second.
“You know my name?”
Izzy laughs loud. “You’re kidding, right? What the hell kinda drugs they give you in solitary?” She shakes her head. “You sneak any out?”
I roll my eyes at her and look at Leslie. “You and Leslie were inseparable when you first came. So, it’s a little weird you forgot her,” Bri offers.
“We’ve done a lot together. Oh, and the places we’ve gone,” Leslie says, walking out the room. I race after her.
“Hey, wait,” I call after her. She turns and places her hands on her hips as I make my way to her.
“What can I do you for, Ms. Porter?” she says as I approach.
It’s kind of weird she keeps calling me by my last name… but whatever. I come out and say it. “You’ve been to VOLT?”
She blinks a couple times but doesn’t say anything. Her eyes travel over me once before she opens her mouth. “I was in line behind you. It was your first day. You were annoyed with my crying. I'd lost my dad.” Her voice carries no accusation. She doesn’t even sound angry with me.
“I’m so sor—"
“Stop. It’s whatever. We all have a bitch inside us. Right?”
I nod. “I have to know…” I step closer. She does the same. “Is VOLT a real place?”
“I still have the medicine in my system, I think. I haven’t been back since, though. But if you don’t have the medicine… I don’t know.” She shrugs.
“Medicine,” I shake my head. “What medicine?”
“Yeah, I have a theory that it’s the medicine they give us here. But I don’t know how it works. I knew another guy that went to VOLT. I think his dad made the medicine or something and gave it to Dr. Cartwright.“ My heart is beating so hard I feel like I’m running, standing here talking with her.
“Was his name Ferris or Joe?”
“Leslie, you missed our one-on-one session. What have you been up to?” A woman with thick glasses and straight brown hair asks.
“Sorry, Doc. I forgot with all the excitement,” Leslie says. She doesn’t stop to answer my question. She walks off having an animated conversation with her doctor—who was the waitress in VOLT with a super-thick country accent. She doesn’t have an accent now, though. Does that have some significance?
I storm back into my room. San Diego. It’s like trying to play ball and comb my hair at the same time to get information around here. I’m going to corner Leslie tomorrow and make her tell me what I need to know. I might have to smack her around a little to get it. I’m willing to take that chance. Solitary won’t be so bad if I can get back to VOLT.
I can’t give up on Joe and Ferris.
* * *
The next morning, I hurry to breakfast. As I pace through the meal line, I scan the room for Leslie. I don’t see her anywhere. Maybe she has a meeting with her doctor or something this morning. I scoot in beside Bri. She glances over and smiles at me. Izzy, sitting across from me, kicks me under the table—giving Bri a hard look. I guess she meant the kick for her. I can’t help the laughter that spills from me.
“What exactly are you laughing about?” Izzy says.
“Don’t worry about it.” I turn to face Bri. “Have you seen Leslie?”
“
Oh, she didn’t tell you?” I shake my head.
“She left. She went home this morning.”
Chapter 58
Without warning, my eyes water and a lump the size of the table we sit at lodges in the back of my throat.
Maybe the problem isn’t that I can’t find out anything about VOLT. Maybe the problem is thinking of VOLT as a real place. Maybe it’s not. Joe could be a result of Dr. Jocelyn’s discussing him with me and Ferris… well, who knows. Maybe I stumbled into him one night here while he was doing his Asian cowboy act. And maybe Leslie and Anthony are crazy. Or I hallucinated it all. Leslie did say it was medicine in her system. And we are in a mental institution, so finding crazies here wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. Maybe getting back to VOLT, or the people we encounter there, is impractical.
I have to move past VOLT and past another set of people who will rescue me. I have to do that, be that, for myself. I made a promise to Chris.
It’s so Denver hard, though.
After breakfast, Mom comes to visit. Her long curly hair is gone and her scalp, eyebrows, and eyelashes are clean. She’s lost most of her curves and wears a plain black tee and blue jeans. She’s graceful and walks with an air of elegance I can’t begin to imitate. She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.
I force myself to be brave and not cry in front of her.
Her encouraging smile and huge hug as we greet are nearly my undoing. I want her for as long as I can have her, but if I took anything from VOLT, it’s that if we don’t give up, then we’ll never be truly lost.
Mom isn’t going to give up. She’ll fight as long as she feels she has to, then she’ll be with Chris and Dad and the grands. My heart is going to have to be okay with that, because I need her to be okay with the remaining time she has.
Still, as soon as she leaves, my chest starts to throb. I hurry back to my room before anyone can see me, talk to me, or look at me. I crash to my bed in a ball of tears until I fall asleep.
Pain, hurt, is inevitable. It has no prejudice or bias—it strikes us all. How we deal with that pain is what makes or breaks some of us.
I’m determined to make it this time. I’m determined to make them and me proud. But I know I can’t carry the idea of VOLT around with me while I try to get to my normal and watch Mom go. I’ve got to let the idea of VOLT go first.
And that’s breaking me in two. My life has been a series of letting things go. At this point, one would think I should be an expert at it. I’m not.
Chapter 59
Month 1
I have new daily goals—try not to smother Izzy in her sleep with my pillow, and smile more. My long-term goals—don’t think about imaginary places. Everyone thinks this goal is fun when I share it with the group. My other goal is to take responsibility for my own happiness.
Month 2
My insides feel like mush as I say goodbye to Bri. Not because we became best friends; she was definitely nice, though. It’s because she was a buffer between me and Izzy. Right now, Izzy stares at me with a smirk, working her lips like she’s already planning the devious things she’s going to do to me while I sleep. She found out about my daily goal. I run my hand over my pillow, back and forth, until she looks away.
Month 3
It’s been three months and I haven’t been able to find one iota of information about Joe, Ferris, or VOLT—even though I said I’d stop looking close to fifty times. I spoke once more with Dr. Sullivan about VOLT, and she was quick to conclude that it had to be a vivid dream. One thing she did take away from our discussions about VOLT is that my ideas of Joe and Ferris were positive. She wouldn’t share any personal information about Joe, but she told me to hold on to my idea of them if it helps me. Don’t use their existence or VOLT as a crutch to my survival, but when the universe gives us greatness, we should embrace it—for however long we can. And VOLT was beyond great for me—even with all the madness. I’ll never forget the place or my friends.
I want so badly to believe it is a real place, but all the evidence points to it only being a dream about two guys I probably met or saw in this place. The fact that more than one person in this facility has been there is a big knock to it being real, too. It’s the medicine. Must be. I push the intrusive memories of my time in that strange, beautiful city to the back of my mind where they can be swept into an abyss with other non-essential information. Even with that, Joe and Ferris will share a space in my heart forever.
Pacing in front of my bed, I wait for Dr. Sullivan to escort me out. It’s my final day. It’s been three long months since I woke up in solitary. Three long months of “letting go of the past” that haunted me and kept me in a state of perpetual sadness.
I’ve learned to live with the past, but also embrace the future—a future I actually want to have.
“Can you stop walking back and forth like that? It’s distracting. I’m trying to paint,” Izzy snaps.
I stop walking. “Stop looking at her if it bothers you,” Bri says.
I hate Bri had to come back, but selfish parts of me were excited to see her after two weeks.
I smile over at her. My roommates and I never got close. We never shared late-night secrets, or had tickle fights, or got chased by… I let my thoughts trail off. Not everyone’s going to be my best friend, and that’s okay.
I know better than most that friends can become family. I’m leaving here with the hope of finding my new family out there somewhere.
“You’re too nice, Bri,” Izzy says.
I shake my head. “Ready to go?” Dr. Sullivan says, popping into the room.
“Yes.” I wave to both Bri and Izzy, but don’t wait for them to wave back or say anything before walking out.
Dr. Sullivan pulls me into a giant hug. I wrap my arms around her. “You’re going to be okay. You’re never coming back here, because you are phenomenally healed. You are a warrior and can do anything you allow yourself to believe you can.”
I smile at her petite frame. “Thank you for the encouragement. I feel good. In spite of today, I feel I can take on the world.”
“You can take on the world. You will. But please don’t miss our visits. They’re important to make sure you’re staying on track. And for me to be nosy and ask you all kinds of personal, intrusive questions.”
I laugh at her as we walk to the parking lot. She rubs her hands down my hair. I had it straightened yesterday. A fresh start also needed a new appearance. Her eyes water, and I wonder if all doctors are this close to their patients. The truth is, I have no qualms about her behavior. She nurtured me in a way I had been longing for. I have no plans of ever returning to this place, but if I must, knowing she will be here to guide me will make it that much easier. “I’ll be okay.”
“Oh honey, I know. But please, call me anyway. Tonight. Okay, right after.”
I nod. She places the car keys in my hands. Our fingers linger, linked together like the past and the future. She’s handing me the first item to make my future what I want. I haven’t driven anywhere in months. The keys feel foreign. Turning them over several times, until the cool metal warms against my skin, I hit the lock-release button and climb inside my mother’s silver Volvo.
I don’t have a panic attack.
As I pull away from the asylum, Dr. Sullivan stands on the sidewalk watching, smiling, waving as I start a new life.
I’m terrified. And a bit excited.
Chapter 60
I shuffle from one foot to the other outside the room. The building is quiet and it’s a bit disturbing. The asylum was loud most of the time; I could barely think. I peek around the corner into the dimly lit space. Several people sit in black folded chairs. Some dab tissues to their eyes, others stare straight ahead at the intricately detailed urn.
I push myself back against the wall I’m leaning on. A woman dressed in canary yellow from head to toe walks my way. She smiles at me. “Hello, dear. So sorry for your loss.” She doesn’t wait for me to respond before walking off. San
Diego, I’ve got to do this.
The walls around me feel like they might crumble. It’s possible I’ll disintegrate into a heap of dust on the floor. That won’t be so bad. They can scoop me up and toss me out with the trash, or throw me into the urn with her. I swat these thoughts away.
It’s not a race. It’s a marathon. I knew this would be difficult.
Technically, it feels impossible.
My heart can’t possibly take another blow. I smile, knowing my heart won’t explode because everyone I love is gone. There’s no one else to cause it to detonate. I hear Dr. Sullivan saying, “This is a counter-productive thought.” So, I smash it into bits and hide it somewhere for safekeeping.
I’m strong. I can do anything. I’m strong. I can do anything…
I push off the wall and march into the wake area. Everyone gawks as I search for a seat. Did they think I would not show? I cross the room to sit in the row before the last one. The seat is hard and uncomfortable. I like that. The pain of sitting in this uncomfortable chair will be a reminder during the ceremony that I haven’t died. Pain has always been that reminder for me, even when it wasn’t needed—or real.
My Aunt Sheryl waves her hands back and forth from the front row. I pretend I don’t see her and put my head down, pulling invisible lint from my dress. Doc Sullivan took me out a week ago and we chose an outfit for today together. I was surprised when I tried the black dress on and it was too small. Doc said that was progress. I’m not back to my normal size eight, but I’m getting there. Not that I wouldn’t mind staying at a seven.
“Samantha.” My name is called and I jerk to attention, kicking the chair beside me. Aunt Sheryl stands over me with her slender brown hand out. “Come on, child. Sit up here with me and your Uncle Charlie.” I squirm in my torture seat. I don’t want to sit with them. I don’t want to sit near the front at all. I definitely don’t want reminders of what I did when I stayed with them. I shake my head and plaster on a polite smile.
