The Monarch Graveyard

by James R Nelson

  “I know…I know.” It wasn’t like this had been their first time.

  She stepped out of the closet. As she was closing the door, he heard Kitty ask, “Where you headed, Baker?”

  Oh, no. Not that flunky, Baker.

  “I gotta do the floors. I was just gonna grab a mop from the closet.”

  “Wait. Before you do, I want to show you some scuff marks on the wall down the hall. You need to make sure you clean them up. The captain saw them this morning, and he wasn’t happy.”

  “Scuff marks? I didn’t see no marks. Where are they?” The voices got fainter as Kitty led him away from the closet.

  Paulie grabbed a mop and stepped out into the corridor. He was sweating. That was a close one.

  ###

  From her fourth floor office in the psychiatric hospital, Doctor Nancy Franklin looked down as a Lake Superior squall shook the bushes in front of her building. Probably no outside privileges for her patients this afternoon.

  Doctor Franklin turned to the big plate glass window in front of her desk. Nurse Fischer was conducting a group therapy session in the day room just outside her office. Four patients were sitting in a circle. Another group was to the left of them.

  Nurse Angela Stefano and a young man emerged from the hallway and stood in the back of the room. They observed the sessions for a few minutes and then headed toward Doctor Franklin’s office. When they got closer, she pushed a button. The door unlocked with a soft buzz.

  They entered her office. “Doctor Franklin, I’d like to introduce you to Ralph Comstock. He’s our new intern. He’ll be assisting us for the next six weeks.”

  Ralph stepped toward her desk and extended his hand. “Thank you so much for approving my internship. I’m very excited to be working here.”

  Doctor Franklin shook his hand. “We’re happy to have you. I understand you’ll be getting college credit for this assignment?”

  Ralph nodded. “Yes. This is the last thing I have to do before exams.”

  Doctor Franklin motioned toward two chairs in front of her desk. “Please take a seat.” When they were both seated, she continued, “You understand that you will be working on this floor for most, if not all of your six week internship.”

  “Yes. That’s what Nurse Stefano told me.”

  “And you realize this ward is strictly for women.”

  Ralph nodded.

  “All right. I ask that you are to never be on the floor without the accompaniment of Nurse Stefano. Do you understand?”

  Ralph swallowed and nodded.

  She handed him one of her cards. “If, for some reason, Nurse Stefano is not available, then you call me, and I’ll escort you onto the floor. Call from downstairs first. Then I’ll let you in.” She leaned over the desk and stared at him. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Doctor Franklin pointed to the group closer to her window. “Nurse Stefano and I are running an experiment with this group. It’s called ‘The Praise and Reward System.’ To be eligible, the patients must have been with us for at least five years and have had no disciplinary actions for the last three. We try to praise them and give them small rewards as much as possible.”

  Nurse Stefano turned to Ralph. “They’ve reached the point where we allow them to carry out limited activities on the grounds. They enjoy being outside. Even if it’s to pick up trash or trim bushes.” She turned toward the window. Loud voices were coming from the other group.

  Doctor Franklin continued, “But don’t let the small privileges fool you. These women have done some terrible things. You need to be alert at all times. We’ve had several interns here, and I know how excited they are to make a difference. To change the world. You get a lot of great book learning in your classes, but in my estimation, what you don’t get is how dangerous a ward like this can be. According to the courts, these patients are all criminally insane. Why? Because they’ve killed people. You always need to be on guard. In the past, we’ve seen interns who want to make friends with these ladies.” She stopped. “That’s a very bad idea. They don’t need your friendship, they need your help.” Again she leaned over the desk. “Do you understand?”

  Ralph nodded.

  “We had an intern here a year ago who didn’t believe me. He ended up with eighteen stitches in his head.” She stood up. “So, welcome to the Newberry State Regional Psychiatric Hospital. Listen to Nurse Stefano, do as she tells you, and be careful.” Doctor Franklin turned to Angela. “Would you like to give a short rundown on the women out there in our experimental group? This is the group I want you to assist with.”

  “Certainly.” Nurse Stephano moved her chair to face the window. “The lady to the left with the gray hair is Brenda Berg. She’s a manic depressive. Seven years ago she stabbed her husband over twenty times. Sitting next to her on the right is Freda Miles. She’s a nymphomaniac who worked as a prostitute. She killed three men who were her clients.”

  At the mention of the word nymphomaniac, a tiny smile appeared on Ralph’s face. A stern look from Doctor Franklin quickly made it disappear.

  Nurse Stefano continued, “Next to her with the dark hair is Louise Applegate. She has serious attachment issues. She only seems to be a danger to people who are close to her. She killed her boss in Detroit, went home and killed her mother, then fled to California in her mother’s car. They caught up to her in San Diego. Oh, she also has a thing for knives. They found one in her room last year. She can be very charming for long periods of time, but then lapse into some truly bizarre behavior.”

  Ralph stared at the women through the window.

  Nurse Stefano continued, “The woman on the far left is Janice Anderson. She was a night nurse in Kalamazoo. She killed at least eight of her elderly patients. At times she thinks she’s God.” She turned to him. “Any questions?”

  Ralph looked back at her. He looked slightly pale. “Um, no.”

  Nurse Stephano asked, “Shall we step out and see how the session is going?” As they were preparing to leave the office, one of the women in the other therapy session stood up, grabbed her chair, and flung it against the glass of Doctor Franklin’s window. The chair hit the window with a bang and clattered to the floor.

  Nurse Stefano said, “You stay here. I better go see what’s going on.”

  Doctor Franklin looked at Ralph and then turned to the window. “Reinforced glass.”

  Eight

  It was two o’clock in the morning when Sergeant Kitty Sovey unlocked Paulie’s cell. He was standing in the shadows waiting for her. He had stuffed a blanket under his covers to make it look like he was still sleeping in the bed.

  She handed him a large paper sack that contained one of her husband’s uniforms. “Here. Put this on.” Kitty looked up. Paulie’s cell-mate was sleeping. Or was he pretending? She didn’t care. It would all be over soon. One way or the other.

  Paulie rushed to get the uniform on. He nodded to her when he was ready.

  She pushed the cell door open and grabbed his arm. “Keep your head down. I’ll do all the talking.” Three minutes later, she whispered, “We’re almost at the gate. When I elbow you, pretend you’re going to throw up.”

  They slowly approached the guard. “What’s the problem, Sergeant Sovey? Is Chuck okay?”

  “It’s the flu. He puked all over the dayroom. Can you send someone down to clean it up? I gotta get him home.” She pushed her elbow into Paulie.

  He bent over, coughed, and dry heaved several times.

  “Oh, shit. Yeah. I’ll send someone down there right now. Here, let me get you guys outta here.” He pulled a large key ring from his side belt and undid the lock.

  Kitty slid the reinforced door open. “Thanks, Bill. I’m not feeling too good myself. Hope this doesn’t go around the staff. Come on, Chuck. Let’s get you home to bed.”

  When they got to her car in the parking lot, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, now how do we get to that cabin you told me about?”

  “T
ake Highway 41 to 28. It’s about two hours from here. Let me know when you get to Grand Marais. I hope I can find it again. It’s a dump, but it’s in the middle of nowhere. We should be good there for a couple of days. I’ll call my friend, Al, in New York. He’s got a lot of connections. He’ll figure out a way to get us the hell out of here.”

  She opened the car’s back door. “Lie down on the seat and cover up with that quilt. When I need more directions, I’ll let you know.” She tiptoed up to kiss him. “I sure hope this works.”

  Paulie climbed into the back seat. “Me too. Let’s go.” Kitty pulled a cheap black wig out from under her seat and adjusted it on her head. She pulled out of the parking lot and headed south on U.S. Highway 41.

  Two and a half hours later, Paulie was sitting next to her in the front seat. “Slow down. It’s got to be around here someplace.”

  “This is the third time you’ve said that. It’s getting to be daylight. We’ve got to find the place soon.” She pulled off the wig and scratched her head. “God, that thing itches. I don’t think anybody’s going to spot us on this desolate road. I haven’t seen a car in over an hour.”

  “Turn here.”

  She slammed on the brakes. “We’ve turned down there before. I can see our tire tracks in the sand. Are you sure you can find that cabin?”

  Paulie stared out the windshield. “All these trees look the same. But I know it’s gotta be around here someplace. Okay. Go on a little farther.”

  A quarter mile down the sand road, Paulie yelled, “There. Back in the woods. That’s the place.”

  Kitty turned. “That’s it? Looks more like a shack than a cabin. Are you sure nobody comes here?”

  “Hell no, I’m not sure. I’ve been locked up for the last four years. What the hell do I know about who comes here? Look. There’s weeds three feet high in that dirt road. Doesn’t look like many cars have been driving in there. Turn. Let’s see what it looks like.”

  She backed the car as far into the woods behind the cabin as she could. “I’ve got some food in the trunk. It should last us a few days. By that time, I hope your friend’s figured out a way to get us out of here.”

  “Did you change the license tag like I asked you?”

  “I sure did. The old lady that lives next to us will never know it’s been switched.”

  Paulie stepped out of the car, walked to the cabin, and peeked into the living room window. “Looks pretty much the same as I remember. A different couch maybe. I don’t know. It should be okay for a few days.” He went over to the back door and body slammed it a few times. The flimsy lock splintered the doorjamb. He stepped inside. Kitty grabbed an armful of supplies and entered the small kitchen. She flipped on a light switch. Nothing happened. “Paulie, is there electricity? Don’t tell me there isn’t.”

  He pulled open the refrigerator. No light accompanied the opening of the door. “I don’t think so. That’s funny. I thought there was the last time I was here.” He spotted a circuit box and threw a lever. The kitchen lit up. “We got power now.”

  Mouse droppings were scattered around the floor. A cup with thick coffee residue sat in a rusted sink. Clumps of brown animal hair clung to the couch cushions. The place smelled musty with a hint of dead animal odor. Directly below a damp spot on the ceiling, several mushrooms sprouted on the pinewood floor.

  Kitty stood in the middle of the small room afraid to touch anything.

  He looked around. “What’s the matter?”

  “Um, I…I don’t think this is going to work.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean, it’s not going to work? We don’t got a lot of choices here. It’s not like we can march right into some motel or anything.”

  “You said this was a cabin. I was expecting a cabin. This—,”

  He glanced around. “I know. It’s a shit hole. It’s a lot worse than it was four years ago. But we’re stuck here for now. How about this? I’ll go bring in the rest of the food and stuff. Then you can go call Al. We went by an IGA store a few miles down the road. I used to call from the pay phone outside. Put that wig back on. Nobody’ll recognize you. Tell Al what happened. Let him know we need some help getting outta here. He’ll fix everything, and we’ll be on our way before you know it.”

  Walter Mattson sat on the screen porch with his sister. “How are you this morning?” She asked.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Really. You seem quiet.”

  “I had a bad dream about Diane. I think I had it because Kim had a hard time falling asleep last night. When I went in her room, she was crying. She said she missed her mother.”

  “It’s sad. It’s going to take a long time to get used to the new normal.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I took so much for granted. Who ever thought that a healthy thirty-eight year old wife and mother would be taken from our family so soon? I wish I would have come home from my classes earlier and spent more time with the family.”

  Irene smoothed a wrinkle from her skirt. “But think of how lucky you were for to have the summers off. You guys went on some spectacular trips.”

  “We did. I just hope Kimberly was old enough to remember the good times we had.”

  Irene stood up and pointed. “Look. A deer’s down by the creek. Go get Kimmie. She’s doing a puzzle in the living room.”

  ###

  Phillip balanced on his crutches and knocked on Barbara’s door. She let him in and watched as he maneuvered his way into the cottage. “You’re doing pretty well on those things.”

  “I think I’ve finally got the hang of them, but my armpits are killing me. Who knew these crutches could be such a pain?” He leaned them against the wall and settled into an overstuffed chair.

  “Coffee?” Barbara asked. “Cora just brought over a fresh pot.”

  “That sounds good.”

  Barbara poured a cup and handed it to him.

  “Thanks. I was thinking about how you mentioned you’d like to spend a day in Chicago. I know being cooped up in this place is getting to you. I thought maybe I’d put a trip together. Stephen’s going to be away. Maybe you, Jeanette, and I could take a train from Marquette into the City. You could do some shopping on Michigan Avenue. I could visit a few museums, and Jeanette can do whatever she wants. What do you think?”

  Barbara smiled. “That sounds perfect. What timing. Last night I was talking to a girlfriend about how much I wanted to do some shopping in Chicago.”

  Phillip frowned. “I hope you didn’t tell her where you were staying.”

  She hesitated. “I may have mentioned that I was here with you. But you don’t have to worry about Sibyl. She’d never say a thing.”

  “Barbara! We’ve discussed this over and over. If things are as bad as you think they are with that boyfriend of yours, you can’t tell anyone about where you’re staying. That will defeat the whole purpose. What if your friend happens to tell someone else? Then that person tells someone. Pretty soon we’ll be reading about you being here in the Hollywood Insider. I can’t believe—”

  A knock outside made Barbara turn. She put her cup down and opened the door. “Oh, you. What do you want? Phillip and I are in the middle of a conversation.”

  Jeanette peered around her. “I’m looking for Phillip. We’re about ready to go to the airport, and Phillip said—”

  “Like I told you, he’s here talking with me. Come back later.”

  Jeanette stuck her foot in the doorway as Barbara attempted to shut the door. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have time to come back later.”

  Phillip grabbed his crutches. “Is it time? Are you leaving for the airport?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll have to continue this conversation at a later time, Barbara. There’s a few things I have to go over with Stephen. But, please remember, no more talking about where you are. Understand?”

  Barbara nodded.

  As they turned away from the cottage, Phillip said, “I’m sorry Barbara snapped at you like that. She’s u
nder a lot of stress.”

  Jeanette looked at him. “I keep hearing that. What kind of stress? What’s bothering her?”

  Phillip shook his head. “I don’t think I should talk about it. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  ###

  Jeanette sat next to Stephen as he drove toward the airport. “You know I’m not thrilled with you doing this.” She turned to him. “The authorities should be handling this, not you. No, I don’t like this. Not one bit. This is totally ridiculous. We’re talking about a possible kidnapping for goodness sake.” She bit her lip. “Maybe I should call the police myself.”

  Stephen looked at her. “You’d be betraying a confidence Phillip made with Mrs. Bonaventure. What if her husband did get killed because you called the cops? How would you feel?”

  “If she seriously thinks this is a kidnapping, then that’s reason enough to let the authorities know. The FBI knows how to handle these things. This isn’t Mexico fifty years ago.”

  Stephen stared at the road. “You know what I think? I think Cyrus passed out on the beach from drinking, and he’s sitting in a hospital or treatment center drying out. That’s the first thing I’m going to do when I get there. Call all the hospitals. Oh, Phillip wanted me to remind you not to say anything about this to Barbara.”

  “Barbara! She’ll probably be the next one sitting in a hospital drying out.” She shook her head. “That Phillip. I swear they’re having an affair. Maybe he’s going through a mid-life crisis or something.” She let out a little laugh. “But that’s what they said when Britt came into the picture.”

  “I think he does better when he’s got a project to work on.”

  “No kidding. The man’s driving me crazy. That reminds me, did you know Allen Moul sent Phillip a script he just finished?”

  Stephen pointed to his briefcase on the back seat. “I’ve got it with me. It’s a spec script. Phillip didn’t know anything about it. He wants us to read it first.”