by Jay Bell
* * * * *
Who knew that having a girlfriend could be such fun? That’s what David called Sabrina, even though he had to be careful. Another couple had fallen in love, and once the staff caught on, they were put on restriction. This meant that they couldn’t come within so many yards of each other without getting in trouble.
Not that David’s relationship with Sabrina was romantic. They were strictly friends. Calling her his girlfriend was only a term of endearment. Most of the time they were together, they talked about their boyfriends. Sabrina was one naughty girl, not hesitating to dish out details of her sex life with Shawn. After some prompting, David began sharing details about Connor too.
“I love the idea of two guys hooking up!” Sabrina told him. “Guys are always going on about lesbians, and it used to irritate the hell out of me until I saw my first gay porn. I keep pressuring Shawn to let one of his guy friends go down on him while I watch.”
“Poor guy is sexually abused,” David said, shaking his head in pity.
Sabrina grinned. “Hell yeah, he is!”
When she wasn’t all hormones, she was going on about hip-hop, even rapping shamelessly. Seeing ladylike Sabrina busting rhymes was surreal, but eventually David joined her. Their impromptu performances got a lot of laughs and the occasional cheer. They were even working on some amateur lines about the hospital they were in:
Life ain’t easy in the old Gulfwood,
Living our lives in the head-shrinker hood.
Keep popping those pills like they say you should,
But take too many and you can’t get wood!
The days flew by with Sabrina around, even though Gulfwood did its best to trip them up.
“It’s that time of year again!” said Nick, the group therapy leader with the shaggy blond hair and hippy glasses. At first David thought they were doing some sort of Christmas in July thing, but he groaned along with the rest of the group when Nick continued. “It’s back-to-school time at Gulfwood.”
“School doesn’t start until the end of August,” Michelle said.
“Yes, and we want to help you prepare for it,” Nick responded. “We have three different classrooms, and in a moment, I’ll give each of you your schedules.”
Sabrina and David ended up in the same class, which helped lighten their spirits. The next day they were escorted in groups to each classroom. Bizarrely, in addition to three other people from their wing of the hospital, their class also included six kids who couldn’t be much older than Tommy.
School was a joke. The teacher mostly focused on the younger kids because they were harder to control. The students David’s age were given assignments. Each was told to pick a book from the limited library and do a report on it in a week. He chose Bram Stoker’s Dracula, but two days later, he still hadn’t cracked the cover. Instead he and Sabrina joked and talked each time one of the younger kids misbehaved and created a diversion.
“The whole jailbird thing is hot,” Sabrina said during one such moment.
David paused. “You think so?”
“A guy behind bars? It’s so James Dean.”
“Did he ever go to jail?”
“You know what I mean. Connor is a rebel without a cause. Well, besides you.”
David doodled hearts on his pad of paper. “I guess the fantasy is kind of hot, but it’s not like there are conjugal visits or anything.” He started covering the hearts with bars of ink. “The worst part is that he doesn’t know what happened to me. I haven’t visited. I’m sure he’s called, but obviously I can’t answer my phone. He probably thinks I dumped him.”
“Sorry,” Sabrina said. “I didn’t think of that.”
“It’s okay. I just wish I could send him a sign that I still love him.”
The exasperated teacher walked down their aisle, checking on their progress. Today they were supposed to be filling out a math worksheet. They acted busy until one of the younger kids rushed to the chalkboard and started banging erasers against it. The teacher sighed and headed toward the clouds of chalk.
Sabrina leaned toward him and whispered. “They have phones here, don’t they?”
“Barely. Even the nurses aren’t allowed to bring their cell phones in, but there’s an old-fashioned one at their station.”
“Well? Why don’t you call Connor?”
David scoffed. “I can’t just march up and ask to use it.”
“No,” Sabrina said, “but if there was a big enough distraction—”
They needed another two days to come up with a satisfactory plan and another week before David became desperate enough to enact it. He kept picturing Connor, alone in his cell, waiting endlessly for any sign of support. This made David’s relative freedom feel like a betrayal. He couldn’t leave Gulfwood, but he could lounge around on couches and watch TV or hang out with his new friends.
Of course placing a quick call to Connor in his cell wasn’t possible, which is why David needed so much time to figure out what to do. The answer was much less direct than calling Connor. Finally ready, he worried that Sabrina would no longer be willing to go through with it. When he asked her, putting on his best puppy dog eyes, she just grinned and said, “Tonight, I’m going to win an Emmy!”
* * * * *
David lay in bed, staring at the shadows on the ceiling. The sheets were down to his belly button because he wanted the nurse doing the rounds to see he was in bed. From the waist down he was fully dressed, but they would never notice that from the door. They checked in on him not once but twice, his eyes closing each time he heard the door opening. The second time they checked he even let his mouth fall open so he would look totally conked out. Then he started watching the clock.
When the time was finally right, he crept to the door, opened it a crack, and listened.
“I want to go hoooome!” a voice wailed.
“What’s wrong?”
“What are you doing out of your room?”
The nurses’ voices grew quieter as they moved away. David risked sticking his head out the door. His room was nearest the nurses station in the boys’ wing. The girls’ wing was on the other side of this station. David couldn’t see down that hall, but he could hear Sabrina making a fuss.
“Leave me alone!” she sobbed. “I just want to go home to my own bed. I’m sick of sleeping he-ee-ee-errrrrrr.”
Okay, maybe she was overdoing it a little bit, but she had the staff’s full attention. David dashed to the nurses station, diving behind it like he was under fire. He listened to make sure Sabrina was still wailing before he raised his head over the counter and snatched the phone. The cord attached to the wall was long enough to take the phone with him under the desk. Then he lifted the receiver and held it to his ear.
Nothing.
No dial tone. Just a clicking noise. The university where his father worked was the same. Punching “nine” got an outside line. David mentally crossed his fingers and pushed nine. There it was! A droning dial tone. David tapped in a cell phone number and held his breath. After three rings, each lasting an eternity, someone picked up.
“Hello,” Gordon said, his voice sleepy.
“Hey! It’s me.”
“David?” Gordon sounded much more awake. “Are you out of the hospital?”
“No. I’m still there. Listen, I need a favor.”
“Wait! I need to apologize first. I keep thinking about what happened and how different it would have been if I hadn’t run.”
David didn’t have time for this, but Gordon’s voice was shaking. He risked a peek over the counter and saw he was still in the clear.
“I should have stayed by your side,” Gordon continued. “I should have fought like a brother in arms. Then Connor wouldn’t have had to go after that guy and neither of you would be in trouble.”
David grinned despite the situation. Good old Gordon. David missed him, but now wasn’t the time for sentiment. “You’re still my brother in arms,” he said. “In fact, I need a favor that only y
ou can grant.”
“Name it!” Gordon breathed, desperate for redemption.
“I need you to get in touch with Connor and tell him what happened to me. When my dad is at work, go into the house through my bedroom window and look for my cell phone. It might not be in my room, so you may need to search the house. That way you can see if Connor called or anything. Even if he hasn’t, maybe you can write him a note or go up there and visit him. Tell him—” David hesitated. Any kind of lovey-dovey message would be awkward to say to Gordon, but he thought of something appropriate enough and relayed it to him.
“I’ll tell Connor, don’t worry!” Gordon said. “I won’t fail you again.”
“I know you won’t.” A fat foot stuffed into a dainty shoe came into David’s field of vision. When he raised his head, he looked into the eyes of a very angry German woman. “Uh. Gotta go.”
David hung up the phone and smiled sheepishly. The nurse said something in her native tongue. David didn’t understand a word, but he could tell that he was in big trouble.
* * * * *
Dr. Wolf thumped his pencil rhythmically on the pad of paper in his lap. He gazed down his nose at David, sizing him up. “Who were you trying to call?”
“No one,” David said, relieved that he was being asked. He had worried they could check the phone records and find out. Then again, maybe they had and this was a test of his honesty. “Just a friend,” he added to be on the safe side.
“Was it Connor?”
David felt the blood leave his face. He had succeeded in steering the conversation away from Connor, his name not being mentioned at all in recent sessions. Until now. “How could I call him? He’s in jail, isn’t he?”
“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have tried. The nurse wasn’t sure if you reached anyone, but I think you did.”
Time for a little truthful misdirection. “I called my best friend Gordon and got his voicemail. I left him a message telling him that I’m doing all right.”
Dr. Wolf nodded, but then said, “I thought you might have called home. It’s not unusual for a patient to get homesick.”
No, it wasn’t. That’s why Sabrina had decided on that role, which had earned her a day on EP. No one suspected that what she had done was related to David’s call. They simply thought he had taken advantage of the situation.
“You didn’t call your father,” Dr. Wolf continued. “I know, because I spoke to him. Then I asked who he thought you might have tried calling. He suggested Connor. This surprised me since you don’t speak of him much.”
David shrugged and did his best to look bored.
Dr. Wolf pursed his lips. Then he leaned forward. “David, are you a homosexual?”
“Are you?” David’s reaction was defensive, and he regretted it instantly.
“No, I’m not,” Dr. Wolf replied easily, “but I wouldn’t have anything to hide if I were. I’m just concerned that you haven’t been completely honest with me. We’ve been dealing with your issues of anxiety and difficulties with integrating into society. I think your alternative sexuality has a lot of bearing on that.”
“Yeah, I’m gay,” David said. Obviously his father had already let it slip or Dr. Wolf wouldn’t be asking. No point in denying it now. He just hoped his father hadn’t said much else.
“And Connor is your boyfriend?”
“I didn’t call him,” David said.
Dr. Wolf smiled. “That’s not what I asked you.”
“Well, that’s what you wanted to know. I called Gordon. He’s my best friend. I missed him, but not in a gay way. Is that all right with you?”
“You seem upset.”
“Yes, I’m upset!” David said, his voice louder than he meant. “Do you ask other patients if they’re straight? Do they have to fill out some crappy questionnaire that asks if they like the opposite sex—right alongside a list of mental illnesses? No, of course not! I called my best friend last night, and you’re trying to make this about me being gay. Well, it isn’t!”
Except it was, since David was trying to contact his big gay boyfriend, but he was tired of playing cat and mouse with Dr. Wolf and he was sick of being here.
Dr. Wolf wasn’t perturbed by his angry outburst. Instead he wrote something on his notepad and set it aside. He smiled serenely at David and allowed him some time to calm down before he asked his next question.
“David, you’re seventeen years old. How old is Connor?”
“Fuck you.” David stood up. He wasn’t having any part of this. “Take me back to my room. I’m done talking to you.”
Dr. Wolf raised his eyebrows, then his hands. “Very well. We’ll have plenty of time to discuss your relationship with Connor during your father’s next visit.”
David glared at him. He would tear the hospital apart brick by brick before he let them file fake charges against Connor. But when he got to his room and shut the door, his anger turned to despair. He could do nothing to escape, no matter how much he wanted to. As the day wore on, he began to wonder if letting go of Connor was the only way of keeping him safe.
Chapter Twenty-two
Connor wasn’t happy. He should be, considering the circumstances. Leonard wasn’t just transferred to a different dorm, but to a completely different cell block. This meant not having to see him at all, even in the dayroom. His replacement was an old black man who soon made friends with Leonard’s former bunkmate. Together, the two old timers talked about television shows and politicians the rest of them had never heard of. They might as well have been from a different world.
For a while, Connor was content. His conviction that he and David could still be together hadn’t faded. But when he last called to hear that snippet of David’s voice, a generic message informed him that the voicemail was full. No doubt this was due to the countless times Connor had tried, the collect call request being recorded but never heard. This was practically good news. It meant that David wasn’t ignoring Connor. But it also meant that he couldn’t answer his phone.
Since then, Connor had done nothing but wonder why. What had happened to him? Maybe it was something small, like he was grounded from his phone. But what if Chuck had rallied and put David in the hospital? Or worse, maybe David had done something drastic.
No longer able to hear David’s voice, Connor hadn’t tried calling him for the last three days. Instead he called his sister. She had sent word through their mom that she wanted him to.
“Get your butt back down to Florida,” she said. “Kansas is too ass-backwards. And bring David with you.”
He had laughed and promised he would, but now he wondered if that dream was even possible. Would Connor feel it if David took his own life or been hurt? Would he shoot upright in the middle of the night, a pain in his heart, or hear the ghost of David’s voice? He needed to hear that voice now, more than anything.
Deciding it was worth another shot, Connor waited his turn for a payphone. Then he dialed the number so familiar to him that his fingers worked on their own.
Riiiing. Riiiing. Click.
“Uh, hello?”
The line went mute as the collect call service sought permission. That wasn’t the voicemail message! But was it David? It didn’t sound like him. Connor waited, the phone in his palm slick with sweat.
“Connor?”
“Yeah! Who is this?”
“It’s Gordon. I was just writing you a letter!”
“What?” Connor decided it didn’t matter. “Where’s David?”
“That’s a long story.”
And it was. Connor listened as Gordon filled him in on everything that had happened. At the end of the tale, Connor struggled with too many questions, all competing to come first. One eventually won out over the others.
“Is David okay? I mean, when he called you, did he sound all right?”
Gordon thought about it. “I guess so. He was kind of in a hurry. He just said I should tell you what happened to him. Oh, and one other thing.”
“What?”
“He said no matter how much time goes by, that he’ll always be your Sweet Sixteen.”
“Okay. Thanks.” It was all Connor could manage to say around the lump in his throat.
“Is it some kind of code?” Gordon asked.
“No.” Connor laughed, throat muscles loosening as he wiped at his eyes. “Not really.”
“Oh. Well, when do you get out?”
“A little under a week. Do you know when David will be out of the hospital?”
“His dad said he might be in there for a long time. Maybe even a couple of months.” There was a heavy sigh. “I miss him.”
“Yeah. So do I.”
They didn’t have much left to talk about, so after an awkward silence, they said their goodbyes.
“One more thing!” Gordon said as Connor was about to hang up.
“What?”
“Watch out for stool pigeons.”
Connor shook his head. “I’ll do that, Gordon. Thanks.”
He hung up the phone and took a minute to collect himself. Then he turned and, with a dopey smile, faced the dayroom full of inmates.
* * * * *
Dr. Harland strolled into David’s room, pushing buttons on his cell phone before tucking it in the inner pocket of his suit jacket. David, stretched out on his bed, eyed him suspiciously. Sometimes he thought Dr. Harland and Dr. Wolf were some sort of Jekyll and Hyde duo, one old and direct, the other friendly and accommodating. Both were deceptive.
“Hey, sport!” Dr. Harland gave David a swat on one of his shoes. It seemed friendly enough, but could have been a sign that David shouldn’t have his feet on the bed. “Heard you had a rough time the other day.”
“Yeah.” Which rough time? Getting caught using the phone or his argument with Dr. Wolf? The latter was what David really regretted. He’d kept his cool for weeks only to blow it now. He positively dreaded his father’s next visit.