1929 Book 2 - Elizabeth's Heart

by ML Gardner

  “What?”

  “Keep your head down,” I said. “They don’t realize we’re talking to each other that way. They think we’re talking to ourselves.”

  She dropped her eyes back down to carrots that had been boiled to mush.

  “You should eat,” I repeated.

  “I’m not hungry,” she whispered to her plate.

  “Doesn’t matter. You have to stay strong in a place like this. Besides, if you don’t eat, they’ll notice and force feed you.”

  I hated to lie to her like that, but it would draw attention if she started to lose weight. I watched one die of that. Just stopped eating. It took several months, but she died. And they didn’t do a damn thing to help her. I wouldn’t let that happen to Elizabeth. She took a bite of carrot mush and I smiled at mine.

  “Who are you?” she asked, stealing a quick peek up at me.

  “Simon. Who are you?”

  “Elizabeth,” she whispered just before an orderly walked by.

  “Just Elizabeth?” I asked. She shot me a lightning-fast angry look.

  “I meant, what’s your last name?” She knew what I originally meant and ignored me.

  “How long have you been here?” she asked after an awkward silence. Ronnie had started a commotion across the room, and I used the opportunity to look up at her fully.

  “Five months. Give or take a few weeks.”

  Beautiful, but dark and tired eyes looked up at me.

  “That long? My daddy said it would only be a few days, maybe a week at the most.” Her eyes brimmed with tears.

  “Maybe for you,” I said, trying to give her some hope. “Just be good and do what they say. And for God’s sake, don’t try to act too sane.”

  “I’m not crazy,” she said quietly through her teeth.

  “I didn’t say you were. But obviously someone thought there were enough…issues to bring you here. I’m just saying don’t try to get better too quickly.”

  “I didn’t ask for your advice,” she said, glaring hatefully at her fork.

  Ronnie screamed, flipped the table over in one fast movement, terrifying the other diners. He had three orderlies on him in seconds. She glanced over at the commotion and then looked back at me.

  “I’m sorry,” she said without dropping her eyes this time. Preoccupation with Ronnie gave us a few moments to look at each other.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. I wouldn’t have broken from her eyes even if it meant another shock treatment. Let them blast me into oblivion. I’d just sleep for two days with those eyes in my mind.

  “No. You’re the first person to be nice to me here. I shouldn’t have. That’s not like me.”

  It killed me to look away, but, with Ronnie removed, the orderlies were breaking up to patrol the room.

  “Yeah, well,” I stood with my tray and tossed her a smirk, “this place can make you nuts.”

  I carried her smile with me to my room and studied every detail of it behind my closed eyes, so I could have it always. It was the first time, ever, I had tried to will the visions. I needed to see more. I paid for that need the next day.

  They found me sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at nothing. I wasn’t aware, of course, the world blacked out as I watched the white portal of pictures that played out in front of me.

  I came out of it strapped to a stretcher. I lifted my head as they rolled me toward the familiar doorway that led to days of confusion and pain, and it took all my strength not to put up a futile fight.

  We passed by David, who refused to look at me; his jaw clenched tight, his fists balled up at his sides. I banged my head on the pad several times, growling in frustration and worried for the first time that I would lose something. I knew I wouldn’t lose the visions. They never left me for long. But I might lose something more important.

  The paintings of her in my mind; images and snapshots from both visions and reality that I had studied and committed to memory. I might not be able to remember so clearly the little indent above her lip or the exact shades highlighting her hair. I might forget her smile or the perfect shape of her eyes. There were flecks of black in her brown eyes. I had to remember that. Small flecks of black spiraling outward like a pinwheel, surrounded by a dark burnt brown. Black lashes that drooped in sadness. I willed myself to remember as they shoved the bite in my mouth. I didn’t fight it, but I breathed hard and fast in anticipation and fear. I closed my eyes tight as they strapped the prongs to my head. Her eyes were the last thing I saw before the blinding white light. Then nothing.

  “Where is she?” I asked David groggily two days later as I entered the commons. I was woozy; the bright light hurt my eyes.

  “They took her up to the clinic,” he said, sizing me up, no doubt trying to decide if I could continue to stand under my own power. He took a step closer, just in case. I rubbed my aching eyes and cleared my throat.

  “Why? Is she sick?”

  “No. You know why, Simon,” he said quietly to the floor at my feet. My head cleared so fast it made me nauseous.

  “They didn’t.” David just nodded inconspicuously. “Why, David? She’s not crazy,” I said through my teeth, glaring at one of the nurses. “You said you saw two of her, but I didn’t see any of that. I know crazy. She’s not. And you know it,” I seethed.

  “No, Simon. I have seen it.”

  “I don’t believe you.” I glared up at his six and a half feet and got a blank expression in return. I felt my whole head vibrating with rage. I turned and beat the wall with my fist several times. It got the attention of everyone in the room before he could grab me and their eyes flashed from me to David and back.

  “You’d best get yourself under control. Don’t force me to do something I don’t want to do,” he whispered, his hand covered my entire fist, suspending it midair. He spun me back around and held it up over my head, pressing me against the wall. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths to calm myself.

  “I can’t do another treatment,” I growled through my teeth. It was the signal we used that I was under control and wouldn’t be a problem.

  “She’ll be back in a week or so,” he said, barely moving his lips as he let me away from the wall.

  He turned to the other orderlies and nurses. “He’s fine,” he assured them, and they slowly pulled their eyes off me.

  I pulled my aching fist out of his and shook it, glancing around at the others who watched me cautiously. Most of them had never seen me violent. The ones that had were gone. Either died or moved on. A lucky few had found their way home. I didn’t look at them; just found a chair by the barred window and stared through it the better part of the evening.

  I couldn’t stare in one spot for too long. I could feel them watching me. I moved my eyes and head often, letting them know I was still there. But I wasn’t looking at the courtyard outside, the tall fence in the distance that encased us or the dried orange leaves in small piles that nature would rearrange with wind gusts to her liking. I tried to see her across the open space in front of me. I sighed in relief when I began to recall the perfect shade of her hair, the exact shape of her lips and then the black pinwheels set in her brown eyes flashed before me. I was so grateful to still have it; my own eyes closed and misted. With everything important accounted for, I turned my thoughts to where she was. What they were doing to her. It wasn’t fair and I wanted to kill them for it. I had never thought of doing bodily harm to anyone before. But I could have, I think. Killed every one of them, and it still wouldn’t be enough to make it up to her. I should have warned her. I’d seen it done a dozen times. But what could she have done? I shrugged helplessly, then answered myself, Nothing. Just be afraid until they came to take her away. No, I decided. Not knowing what was coming was better. I should know.

  I had no appetite the week she was gone. I had two more visions that I didn’t understand and one more treatment. How sick was I becoming in my own head not to mind it this time, knowing it would make the days go faster? In f
act, I had spent the better part of the last three days she was gone recovering.

  I opened my eyes and squinted at the bright light. I had heard someone say her name, and it jerked me from my fitful sleep. David. David had said her name, right by my door. I swung my feet over and swayed on the edge of the bed for a moment, my head pounding. I wiped drool from the side of my face and felt my ear. Something dried and crusty covered it. I scratched it and saw flakes of blood floating down onto my leg.

  Great. I never hear right for weeks when it bleeds, I thought. The only reason it mattered now was because I might miss something she said. Maybe something in a whisper. Then I remembered Elizabeth.

  She’s back. She’d lived. One hadn’t.

  For everything they did to us here, there’s always one who wouldn’t make it. I held the wall for support until the room stopped spinning. When the nausea passed, I shuffled my way out of my room.

  David saw me and gave the tiniest nod toward the commons. I blinked my thank you and sped up my shuffle. My legs would start working properly in an hour or so. That much I knew from experience.

  She sat in the same chair I had, staring out at the courtyard. I wondered when they would let us all outside again? How wonderful would it be to walk along that path with her, free to talk above a whisper? To have even the thinnest veil of privacy. I pulled up a chair with a long metal scraping sound that pierced my brain and sat a few feet away from her. I crossed my arms and followed her gaze out the window.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, eyes forward. She gave a small nod. “What did they do?” I asked, even though I already knew. I wanted to make sure she knew. Sometimes they didn’t tell them. I got no answer, she just cried. Silent tears that rolled one after another down to her chin told me she did know. Anger flared up, hurting my head and making my hands tremble. She knew and she cared. It mattered and it made her sad. Crazy people don’t have that depth of emotion. “I know you’re not crazy,” I blurted out. I heard a shuffle at the door and turned. David was relieving the other orderly for lunch. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was early for that. He looked at me briefly and winked. I was free for the next few minutes to talk to her like a normal person.

  Before I could decide what to say, he tapped the table twice with his knuckles, and I looked back. A nurse rushed in the door, dropped something on the table, and left again. I knew that would be the signal.

  “We can talk now,” I told her. “If someone’s coming, he’ll knock twice. Face forward in the chair and stop talking if he does.” I watched her and wasn’t sure if she heard me or not. She stared forward with dull eyes. I started getting impatient to hear her voice again. The clock’s hands moved swiftly, reminding me that we only had minutes. I relaxed a little as she spoke, finally.

  “How do you know I’m not crazy?” she asked.

  “I just know. I, ah–” I glanced around the room. “I’ve spent a decent amount of time with ‘em, and I can tell. You’re not.”

  “You’re the only one who believes that.”

  “For now. It will be seen, sooner or later, whether they like it or not. And they’ll let you go.” I hated myself for lying to her again.

  “They won’t,” she said with fresh tears. “Do you know what they did to me?” she asked, looking at me for the first time. Her eyes were swollen and red, but the brown was just as I remembered with the pinwheels.

  “Yes.” I wanted to look away, anywhere else to escape the pain in her eyes, but I couldn’t.

  “I can’t have kids now. Ever.” She put a hand on her stomach and looked down.

  “I know.” I clenched my jaw and nodded.

  “Why did they do that, Simon?” She looked at me as if I should have the answer. I opened my mouth with no idea what to say when David knocked on the table. I turned to face the window, still watching her out of the corner of my eye.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered with a hoarse voice. “I don’t know why they would do that to you.”

  Of course, I knew why they did it to the truly crazy ones. They didn’t want nuts breeding nuts. Or bearing the consequences of those who take advantage of them. But they shouldn’t have done it to her.

  We managed little pieces of conversation over the next week, mainly at mealtimes, but it was never enough. David went out of his way, without being obvious, to give us a precious few moments when he could. He would arrange patients in group meetings, so we could sit next to each other.

  At night, when we stood in line for our pills, he would control the excited rush of patients toward the narrow door, so that I would end up standing by her.

  I talked to him one evening as he walked me to my room, almost as freely as I talked to her.

  “Why?” I asked simply. He knew what I meant. He thought about it for a moment, and I watched the floor tiles as we walked.

  “She’s better when she’s with you.”

  “How is she better?”

  “The other one doesn’t come out when she’s with you. Not that I’ve ever seen anyway.” He looked at me with eyebrows raised, wanting confirmation.

  “No. Never.”

  “The only time she smiles is when you two are having your secret talks. It’s the only time she–” He paused and I grew anxious, as we got closer to my door.

  “What, David?”

  “It’s hard to explain, Simon. She’s just better with you. That’s the only way I can explain it.” He shrugged in apology. I stopped at my door with disappointment. If I couldn’t talk to her, I at least wanted to talk about her. “Weather should be nice tomorrow. Little Indian summer before it turns nasty,” he said as he swung the metal door open. I liked how his eyes could say everything that his tone and facial expressions couldn’t. I trusted him more every day. I smiled at the floor and then at him briefly before turning into my room.

  I lay restless on my bunk for a long time. The idea of getting out into the courtyard the next day kept me awake. I thought about the mossy cobblestone path and smiled. I had seen it two days earlier; the two of us walking in the sunshine on that path, breathing the fresh air. Talking freely like sane people. Maybe we could laugh, just a little. Laughter was seen as a side effect of insanity here. I missed laughing. Maybe if we could get just out of earshot. I had to stop thinking about tomorrow, or I would never get to sleep. I shoved my finger into the little hole in the corner of my mattress and dug out the piece of chalk I had stolen when the nuns came to do art projects with us. The wall was a dingy, tan color from years of neglect, and the white chalk showed up well enough, even in the shadows of evening. I rolled onto my side, facing the wall and then peeked over my shoulder to the door. I wondered briefly if drawing on the wall was a shock-able offense. As I drew the outline of her face, it mattered less and less. I was a good artist, but it was a crude drawing; I could never capture the perfect details of her with a small cracked piece of chalk. My mind filled them in, and it came to life before my eyes. I traced it with my finger when I finished, smudging the hard line of her jaw into softness.

  I tucked the chalk away into its hiding place, feeling it was my most prized possession. I laid my head on my arm, looking at her on the wall. I smiled, touching her forehead and nose. I felt cold concrete under my finger, but I imagined her skin much softer.

  When light had almost faded from the room, and I could only see the outline of her, David coughed loudly outside my door, signaling a room check. I sighed heavily.

  “Goodnight,” I whispered to her and then, with my open hand, rubbed her off the wall just before the nurse peered in. I stayed on my side, breathing slowly and evenly, my hand flat against the concrete where she had been.

  I woke at the first light of dawn and paced my room, waiting for breakfast. I had to suppress any hint of happiness when the orderly brought me the small mirror and stayed with me while I washed my face, shaved, and brushed my teeth. I brushed them especially well this morning. I hadn’t foreseen a kiss. But then again, I don’t see everything, I thought, smiling with
a mouth full of foamy toothpaste.

  I saw her sitting at breakfast and had a warm surge of energy race through me. I consciously willed my legs to pace themselves. I sat down and waited until the nurse set my tray in front of me. Elizabeth stole a peek and gave me a small smile when the nurse turned her back.

  “Morning,” I said to the biscuit as soon as it was safe.

  “Good morning,” she whispered back. I could see her struggling to kill a smile. “They say we get to go outside today,” she said, disguising the words with her chewing.

  “That’s what I heard.” I glanced at the window to the courtyard; overcast gray skies. That was good. They would wait until the fog burned off, and the sun came out. I had seen David in the distance as we walked, and he didn’t come on shift until after lunchtime, so I knew I had the whole morning to kill. “Will you walk with me? Out there?” I nodded toward the window.

  “I was hoping you’d ask.” She smiled up at me again, eyes shining. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the nurse watching and my blood ran cold.

  “Look down,” I growled. She did, a little too quickly.

  We were silent for several minutes while we ate. The nurse still glanced at us more times than I was comfortable with, and I knew what I had to do to take the attention away from us.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly to her as I gathered my tray. “I can’t risk losing this,” I said. “No matter what happens, keep a straight face,” I whispered before I walked away. Her eyes followed me and then, remembering herself, she looked back down at her food. I could see her straining to watch me as I sat down across from Ronnie. I took a deep breath and then blew it out in guilt.

  “I’m sorry to have to do this to you, Ron,” I said. “But you have no idea how important this is to me.” He looked up at me, oatmeal hanging from his chin, in confusion. He rarely spoke. He mostly yelled amid outbursts. He was so far gone, it made it a little easier to do what I was about to do. I leaned forward and lowered my voice.