by HMC
She had glared at Freddy as he watched them come down the corridor together and as they disappeared into Green’s office. Her face was old and haggard. Freddy wondered who she was; if she was, perhaps, the doctor’s new girlfriend. Dr. Green had a wife, but he had girlfriends, too. He didn’t like this new one, in any case. She’d looked at him in a way that made him feel bad inside.
He would keep an eye on her.
Freddy went to his dresser and pulled out his fluffy red socks. It was time to move into stealth mode and he would need them in order to be at his sneakiest. Mission: watch the mean woman with the dead cat handbag.
Freddy checked his Astro-Boy watch. It was an agonising 35 minutes and 17 seconds before the door to Green’s office opened and the woman finally came out. He stepped backwards clumsily and froze; terrified that he’d been too loud. It was getting so boring waiting for her that Freddy had starting reading his Watchmen comic book and after a while had forgotten what he was supposed to be doing. He punished himself briefly for losing spy-like focus and waited for the sound of footsteps to pass his room. Please. Don’t look down. Please. Don’t look down. If she so much as glanced down, she’d see him hiding in his doorway.
After a moment, Freddy heard a door being unlocked and opened. He poked his head around the corner. The woman had entered the kitchen at the end of the hall. Freddy knew they were in the high ‘secretary wings’, which meant no one could get into the kitchen without a key, except probably Sam ... or the secretaries.
He also knew that if someone didn’t turn the knob to shut the door behind him or her, it wouldn’t automatically lock. He knew because he’d been in there once before to steal food, and he also did dish duty on Wednesdays and Fridays. Now some clever person had put padlocks on the cupboards.
Deciding to be brave, as a man on a mission must, Freddy snuck up the hallway and stood at the kitchen door to listen. There were no sounds of voices, just movement. The woman was definitely doing something to the oven, as the metallic yowl it made when it opened was horrendous. Perhaps she was baking a cake. Yum!
Freddy almost laughed out loud and had to put a hand over his mouth to stifle it. He heard keys jingling, but not in a door, only in a hand. There were some more sounds of things being put down on the kitchen bench. He was good at guessing what sounds were. He never had the photographic memory; he had the ear memory. Damon was good at it, too, that’s why he had heard the robber. Now it was his turn to be like Damon.
All of a sudden there were two noises at once: the door to the dining room was being opened on the other side of the kitchen and the woman had dropped her keys down onto the tiles.
He heard a familiar voice.
‘Can I help you?’ It took Freddy a few seconds to figure out that it was Dr. Thatcher, his most favourite doctor of all. She’d catch the lady! There were a few more seconds of silence before the lady spoke soft and sweetly to Jade, in a voice that made Freddy want to vomit. He put his fingers up to his mouth to make a sickly gesture like he’d once seen Sam do when Dr. Green had said ‘have a nice day’ to them.
‘Oh thank you, I’ve just had a glass of water. But I’ll be going now. I hope I didn’t enter somewhere I wasn’t supposed to.’ Liar! Get her, Jade. Freddy had to stop himself from bursting through the door and telling Jade that the lady was up to something, and that she had special keys to the kitchen. If he did, he might get into trouble too.
He heard Jade again. ‘Of course not, but next time, one of the nurses can get it for you.’ Freddy waited until he heard the door close and the women’s voices disappear into the dining room.
Oh no! That would take them to the common room and the lady could get away! But what could he do? He’d have to let her go for now.
Freddy peeked around the kitchen doorway. The room was stinky and he wondered why Jade hadn’t smelt it, too. It smelled a bit like the petrol station.
His heart pounded hard in his chest. He got down low and crawled along the ground, commando style, and searched for the keys. Then, he saw them. They’d slid under the bench a little and he wondered why she didn’t just bend down and pick them up. She must’ve been scared of Jade. Freddy grabbed them and his mind started ticking over.
Mission two: find which keys fit which holes.
Jade Thatcher moved from her office to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and contemplated her session with Freddy. Her point of view was transforming with each day spent with this group of people, and she was beginning to understand something new. She not only cared for them – she liked them.
They made her feel good. Even George did, in his own way. She decided she’d prefer to be around them than any of the people she’d known in Grisham City, people she’d once called friends. Not one of them had called her since she’d left.
She remembered the way they competed with each other in a race to be the richest, thinnest, most beautiful and most accomplished. Ambition was a good thing and from the outside, they were admirable people. But when inside their circle, Jade found a pack of restless and ravenous wolves that’d tear you to shreds the moment you let your guard down. Then there were the ones who pretended they liked you, only to gossip the moment you left the room.
At least her patients had the gall to tell her what they thought. Jade was starting to wonder who needed therapy more.
When she entered her office, Morty was there waiting for her. He looked beat. ‘Morty, you really need to go home and get some rest.’
‘I can’t. I’m on tonight. Might as well stay.’
‘Who did the roster this week?’ Jade knew that it was Martha’s usual job.
‘Me.’
‘Then change it. No offense, but you’re useless to everyone this tired.’
‘Yeah, I’ll think about it. Anne was really close to Martha and she needs a couple of days.’ He shifted his weight. ‘It’s absolute crap. Why has no one come to tell us a goddamned thing? Shouldn’t the police be doing some kind of forensic investigation or something?’
Jade nodded in sympathetic agreement.
‘Green’s just abandoned us, doing some more important project next door at Maine. He only ever comes back to do interviews for a new nurse. He hasn’t even checked the patients and misses half his sessions. Oh … you would know that because you’re picking up his slack! I swear that man has no interest in us. How did he get to be chief around this place?’
Jade let Morty go on for as long as he needed to and watched the burden lift off his shoulders, as he physically relaxed with each small outburst.
‘Do you think someone could come back and talk to us about the investigation?’
It was a good question. A debriefing would probably be good for everyone. Jade had returned to find police crime scene tape covering George’s and Sam’s rooms, but there was no evidence of forensic analysis or examination going on like she was used to on ‘NCIS.’ Where were all the detectives? She knew that television wasn’t that close to reality, but surely something should be going on around them, like dusting for fingerprints. Something. Jade was also wondering if she’d be questioned soon.
‘I had a session with Freddy yesterday. How has he been with you?’
‘Surprisingly calm. Like he’s up to something, I don’t know. We’ve been keeping as close a watch as we can on everybody, as understaffed as we are. We can’t keep it up for much longer without more help, though.’ He paused. ‘Sam thinks it’s Green.’
Jade looked at him, confused.
‘She thinks he’s after her and George. Freddy, too, and she thinks they caught the guy before he could finish all three of them. Hey, why not go for three birds with one stone? Two’s been done.’ Morty laughed loudly and his hand flew to his mouth. ‘Oh god, sorry. I’m delirious.’
‘It’s all right – you’re dead on your feet. Sam just needs something to hold on to. Perhaps she feels better convincing herself that som
eone is after all of her friends, also. That way she won’t have to deal with it on her own.’ Her patients were forming a group delusion.
Jade knew that Green had been busy and spent the last few days calming the families of the patients, and reassuring them that they were safest in the Home rather than anywhere else. Some families wanted to come and get them, including Karl Phillips, Samantha’s father, but Green had managed to talk them out of it. When Jade had tried to speak to him about it, he completely shut down.
Maybe they would be better off with their own families; a collective hysteria could be detrimental.
Her thoughts shifted and Jade caught herself mid-sentence, ‘And what about ...’ she hesitated, uncertain as to whether it was the right time to bring it up. She did love a good mystery but not so much when it was part of her own life.
‘What?’ Morty was instantly curious.
‘Nothing.’
‘Aw, come on, don’t do that to me.’
Jade laughed.
‘I can’t handle not knowing something – it drives me insane.’ Morty pouted.
‘Is that so? Well, all the more fun for me watching you squirm!’ She beamed at him before realising they were flirting and she reprimanded herself. ‘But seriously, I wanted to ask you why Dr. Hanson left.’
Morty raised his eyebrows. ‘He didn’t leave. He went missing.’
‘Missing?’
‘He started going funny. Really strange. We used to hang out a bit but that stopped a few weeks before he went.’ Morty yawned. ‘Right up until the day he didn’t show up for work. No one has seen him in person since. He calls every now and then, so we don’t file a missing person’s report, but even then he’s pretty distant. He said he’s with a relative for a while. Stress-related.’
Jade didn’t know what to say. It sounded reasonable. She watched Morty rub his eyes in a bid to keep them open. This man had been through way too much for her to go on prying. She stood up as a signal to send him home to bed.
‘Well, I think that’s enough thinking for today, for the both of us.’
The young man rose. ‘I feel like I’m being sent home by the principal.’ Jade thought of telling him she could give him the strap if he liked, but bit her tongue. She watched him leave and he gave her a quick wave before taking off. Moments later, one of the volunteers walked in and slapped a day-old newspaper down on Jade’s desk.
‘You might want to look at this.’ She left as quickly as she’d come.
Jade stared down at the massive page. It was so big it was painful to find a comfortable way of perusing it. There were about six or seven articles – a couple of ads – none of which seemed to interest or relate to her in any way, until her eyes hit the bottom of the page. The headline of a tiny article, two paragraphs long and written by a Coleen Horn caught her eye.
Psych Ward Killing Quandary
Police are investigating the murder of a local nurse, who was shot dead at Rowan’s Home Psychiatric Facility at 4 AM, Saturday morning. The alleged murderer, Sebastian Clay, broke into the home and shot the on-call nurse while she was sleeping. He was then disarmed and killed by a patient.
Authorities learned that not all bullet fragments collected from the crime scene matched the gun found on the suspect. The patient has been taken in for questioning.
Jade was shocked. Either the reporter had false information or the police were covering something up. Either way, it wasn’t her business and she supposed she had better keep her nose right out of it. Her inquisitive nature got the better of her, though, and she picked up the paper to re-read the article.
Anne looked up at the sky. The light in the courtyard was dimmed by the heavy rain clouds. Fairholmes brought humid mornings and the hot air would build through the day to the point where you could no longer breathe and then the storm would come bursting through at almost 3 PM every day.
George sat, welded to his chair, keeping guard. He’d been there for days. Anne hadn’t even been able to move him for meal times, and so brought his food to him.
Her patience was wearing thin and on this particular occasion she had called him a royal pain in the butt and had put her foot down. ‘You are having lunch with us, or NO lunch at all, George!’ She turned and stormed toward the dining room.
‘You’d think they’d appreciate the extra help keeping watch,’ George muttered, shuffling behind.
It was Tuesday, the day of Martha’s funeral, and Anne and Jade were the only ones on shift in the entire hospital. Anne had offered to stay. Although she'd known Martha for an age, she hated funerals, and didn’t want to remember her friend laid in a casket – even if it was closed. She said goodbye in her own way, and staying behind would give her some much needed time with the patients.
Sam, George and Freddy wolfed down their lunches to get back to what they were scheming, but Anne caught them at it and gave them dish clearing duty. Hoovering in your meal was considered extremely poor manners and was always punished with an extra chore.
Freddy was acting particularly strange and Anne caught him with his head in the oven. ‘What in god’s name are you doing, Freddy?’
He whacked his head on the way out. ‘Ouch!’ Freddy rubbed the spot. ‘I’m just checking it.’ He frowned at her and dropped his bottom lip.
‘You’ll be the death of me. What’s gotten into you?’ Anne’s face was so red that Sam and George choked back their laughter, and quickly readdressed themselves to scraping the plates, unable to look at each other for fear of giggling and them becoming the new beneficiaries of Anne’s wrath.
‘I’m sorry, Anne, but I must scour the room for suspicious items left by the terrorists.’
That did it. George and Sam burst out laughing.
Anne’s jaw dropped, but she recovered in a flash. ‘That’s three, Freddy, that’s three. Time out for you, boyo!’
Freddy was mortified. ‘How is that three? That’s only two times, Anne. Two times I’ve been in trouble today. Not three times, Anne!’ Freddy was shouting now and Sam and George were enjoying their front-row seats, dishes forgotten. Anne moved further into the kitchen and folded her arms – willing her patience to return.
‘You wouldn’t take your socks off for Jade when you went to bed last night, Freddy.’ She waited for a response.
‘That was last night, not today.’ He dropped his head down to his chest, looking dejected.
‘Fair enough. But they come off tonight, understand? It’s too hot. You don’t want to get dehydrated, do you? Remember the last time that happened?’
‘I remember.’
She ignored his quivering bottom lip. ‘Sam, time to go.’ Sam nodded and followed Anne. Jade would be ready for her.
Sam sat without being able to look at Jade Thatcher. Her authority and, yes, her expectations made Sam doubt that her theories about what was going on made any sense at all. She’d been so strong, so sure before this moment. Now that she was sitting in this room with this woman – with her tight bun and grey pencil skirt – they had become mishmash in her head. It was just like when she had called her father and tried to tell him what was going on. She sounded ridiculous and he had, predictably, told her that she needed to stay at the home and do what she was told.
Great. Just great.
Jade had on a blue Oxford shirt and her wire-rimmed half-specs sat on her nose. Sam always felt like she was waiting for her to say something when she looked over her reading glasses – even though she knew they were designed to be worn that way. And there was so very much to say and Sam knew that one wrong word could make a mess of it all.
Her doctor spoke first, saving her from catastrophe.
‘I’m so glad you’re safe.’ Sam knew that Jade meant it and it put her slightly at ease. ‘How are you processing all this?’
‘Well, a few days ago I felt like I was putting a puzzle together, but now it’s a
ll confused, and not only am I not sure that the pieces fit anymore, but that maybe I shouldn’t even be trying, either.’ Jade nodded. Sam knew she’d understand. ‘I feel disjointed ... murky.’
‘Murky? That’s a good word. I see you’re working on your emotional vocabulary like I asked.’
‘I feel like I want to give up.’
‘Give up what?’ Jade frowned.
‘I want to give up thinking. It only makes me miserable. I want to stop thinking altogether.’
Her doctor nodded. ‘That makes sense. You know I’ve been trying to think this thing through, too, and it’s wearing me out.
‘Then I realised it’s not my job to do that. It’s my job to help you to get well. I’m good at that and that’s what I’ll stick to. So let’s both make a deal and focus on what we’re here to do and allow your good friend Travis to do what he does best.’
Sam smiled at the thought of him. It felt good to remember for a moment that her childhood friend was out there putting the real puzzle together and that all she was doing was frustrating herself. It was also good to hear that Jade had given her permission to stop.
But she couldn’t … she just couldn’t.
‘I have some theories. Do you want to hear them?’ Sam said.
‘Sure. I understand if you can’t let go of it quite yet.’
‘George and I have a theory about why we were specifically targeted.’
‘Go on.’
Sam really was spent. Her skin was clammy. Perhaps she was getting another migraine. Jade wanted to hear Sam’s theory in order to decide how bad things really were.
‘George, Freddy and I come from the system,’ her patient started. ‘None of us knew our real parents. We think maybe something might’ve happened to us – something that someone wants us to forget about. George and Freddy were in the same boys’ home and I went there years later, when it became a respite centre.’
‘Okay. So you all went to the same place in Fairholmes as children. That’s not a coincidence as there was only one place for you to go.’