by ML Gardner
I smiled self-consciously. “Me, too.”
“I wanted to ask you something.” She avoided my eyes now, and I moved my head to try to see hers.
“Anything,” I said, meaning it.
“Have you ever seen it? The other me?” she asked, her bottom lip quivering.
“No,” I said, leveling my eyes with hers. “Never.”
She nodded in relief and we started walking again. “Have you ever seen me see things?” I knew she hadn’t, I just wanted her to feel less strange.
“I wouldn’t know what that looks like.” She laughed and I loved hearing it. I took a moment to replay it in my mind, cementing it in.
“They say I stare off. I don’t answer when they call me and I drool.” I looked away, slightly embarrassed. “For a few minutes, I guess I look like I belong here.”
“I’ve never seen that.” She smiled.
“Good.”
We had made a full circle around the courtyard, and David winked at me discreetly when we passed.
“One more time around?” I asked. She nodded. I tried to remember jokes, any jokes to hear her laugh again. I came up blank.
“So what do you make of that?” she asked. “Neither one of us has ever seen what the other is here for.” Her eyes touched on a few patients who were cautiously picking and poking at a shrub, as if they had never seen one before. “We can certainly see why the rest of them are here.”
“I don’t know why that is,” I lied. I didn’t know exactly, but I had thoughts on the matter. It was far too early to suggest them to her, though.
“Have you ever seen me? In your visions?” She stared at me intently, and I had a feeling she was studying me for lies.
“I have.” Her smile dropped and I could see fear replace happiness. “Not bad,” I assured her and had to hold my own arm to keep from reaching out to her. “Remember what I said. It’s almost always bad. But with you, it’s good. I promise.”
Her smile returned. “What do you see?”
I looked away and scanned the courtyard.
“I don’t know that I should.” I was grateful it was cold. It lessened the reddening of my face.
“You don’t have to.” She looked away. “Did you know what they were going to do to me?”
I shuddered at the dark turn the conversation was taking.
“I knew, but I didn’t see it or anything. I just knew. They do that a lot here.” I looked away again. Anger flashed in her eyes as she glanced back toward the hospital.
“It’s not right,” I added. Not that it helped much. David coughed in the distance, and my head whipped around just as the door started to swing open.
“Go over to that bush,” I told her. “Act like you’re studying it.” I took several steps in the opposite direction, sat down quickly and began picking at the half-dead grass.
The doctor appeared and scanned the grounds. I watched his eyes roll over me and then after seeing the patient he came for, called him over. I watched from under my lashes until the door closed behind him.
“It’s okay now,” I called. I craned my neck to see her turning from the bush.
“You’re good at this,” she said. She sat across from me on the cold grass, tucking her legs behind her and her white hospital dress neatly around them.
“Good at what?”
“Avoiding getting caught by them. Playing their game.” She waved her hand at the staff, now huddled together and talking near the birdbath. I prayed they weren’t deciding to bring us in.
“Not David,” I said in defense. “He’s not like the others.” I picked at more grass and prayed again for just a few more minutes with her.
“You trust him?” she asked sounding rather shocked.
“Yes. I do now. Not always. When we first met, well–” I smiled. “We had to get some things straight. But since then–” I looked back up at him and threw up one more silent prayer he could avoid what I saw in the bathroom. “I think he likes me. He knows I’m not crazy, at least.”
“What do they call what you are, then?” she asked with a teasing tone.
I studied the detail of her teeth when she smiled. I would add that to my painting tonight. I shrugged.
“Depends on who you talk to. Old people say I’m touched. Superstitious people say I’m cursed. Our good doctor in there tends to believe that I am so brilliant that I notice finite details and fabricate the visions. He doesn’t think I do enough to consciously control them, so they try to shock it out of me. I don’t know if they’re trying to shock away the ability or the will.”
“They do what?” Her eyes were horror struck, and I hated myself for talking so casually about it. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“It’s a form of therapy. It’s nothing.” I tried flicking the grass away with the topic.
“I know what it is.” She glared at me, a horrified look still on her face. “I saw them do it to a woman on our wing.” She looked away and then back. “It’s horrible.”
“Yeah, but it’s okay.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because I’ve gotten through several of them and kept what’s important.” I smiled, tapping my temple.
“Like what, the ability to speak?” she said with a sarcastic tone.
“No. Pictures.”
“Pictures of what?” she asked.
“Important pictures,” I said, not sure if I wanted her to press for more or leave it alone.
“From your visions?” She instinctively lowered her voice with the word. I smiled, dropping my eyes and shaking my head.
“What then?” She held her hands up and then dropped them in her lap in a fluster. I glanced over her shoulder at the staff who had all of their backs turned. I took a deep breath.
“Like this.” I reached up to touch the small indent above her lip, and she sucked in a small breath of surprise. She watched me, but I couldn’t read her expression. “And this.” I ran my finger along her jaw line. “I’ve gotten good at drawing this.” I smiled and touched the ends of her hair before reluctantly pulling my hand away. “I have every single one of these shades of brown memorized. There’s no blond or red in it anywhere. But there are six shades of brown.” I dropped the lock onto her shoulder. “You can count them yourself if you don’t believe me,” I said with a smile. I added one last thing before she found her voice. “But mostly…” I couldn’t help but touch her one more time, and if they shocked me for it, I’d smile with the bite in my mouth. “Your eyes.” I touched her temple and committed to memory the warmth and texture. “The black explodes out from the center in tiny fragments and the brown matches–” I paused, searching for a strand of hair. “This one.” I held it up for her to see, and she took it from my fingers. She pulled it with a little yank, looked at it, and then held it out to me. I took it with a smile.
“Thank you.” I wrapped it several times around my finger and could easily see the color. I glanced up at David. He was looking over the courtyard. Not yet, I thought. Please, not yet. Just a few more minutes.
“Why are you frowning?” she asked. I shook my head. “No, what is it?”
I sighed. “You know at breakfast this morning, when I moved to the other table?” She nodded. “The nurse was watching us. I got nervous, and I didn’t want to ruin today, so I went to sit in front of Ronnie. But as soon as I saw him, I worried that he would ruin this, too.” I looked up at her, almost ashamed. “I pushed him. I said things that I knew would set him off, so they would throw him in his room for the day.”
“I don’t understand how he would ruin this.” She watched my fingers as I played with the brown grass.
“Every time we’ve gotten some time out here, he goes nuts. It upsets the others, and we end up having to come in early. I couldn’t let that happen,” I said.
“Why?”
“I’m waiting for something,” I said softly as I watched David begin to gather the others in. I mumbled and then closed my eyes. I opened them a second later wit
h a rough laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
I watched David’s every move. “I was just thinking it was odd, what a praying man I’ve become lately.” He looked over at us, and my heart sank as he waved us over. I was so distracted that it was almost a shock when she slipped her hand into mine.
“Will you pray for me?” she whispered. I looked down at our entwined hands. It was what I was waiting for. What I saw would happen, the day before.
“Yes,” I promised her, not able to take my eyes away from the sight. David called out, loud and direct. I stood without letting go of her hand and pulled her up carefully.
“Maybe they’ll let us out again soon.”
“Maybe.” I smiled. I could feel the distance growing, as she walked ahead of me with her head down. To hide a smile? I wondered, hoped.
Once inside the door, she went left to the women’s wing and I turned right. We acted as if we didn’t know each other. As soon as she was out of sight, I turned to my memories. I replayed her laugh several times and felt the single hair wrapped tightly around my finger. I laughed to myself, thinking that perhaps sane people would consider a single strand of hair a strange gift. But I didn’t. I loved it. David waited for me by my door. Only the gleam in his eyes gave him away.
“And how’s your day going, Simon?”
I smiled as I walked past him into my room.
“Wonderful, David. Just wonderful.” I saw his grin through the small glass window as he locked the door on the other side. I lay on my bed with my hands behind my head.
If it weren’t for being caged up like an animal with insane people, having to eat flavorless overcooked hospital food, alternately shivering or sweating at night, and having a suspicious doctor pick through my every thought…my life would be perfect.
I closed my eyes so I could find hers.
Later that evening, I didn’t draw her on my wall. I was too preoccupied with other things. It was so uncomfortable, the feeling of impending doom and being unable to do anything about it. I had to lie in my tiny room of metal and stone and wait. And hope. I heard voices growing louder outside, talking and laughing.
Shift change, I thought with a grimace. My stomach lurched, and I sat up, too anxious to lay still.
It had begun raining a few hours earlier and slight pecks of icy rain quickly turned into a downpour. I knocked loudly on my own door, letting them know I needed to use the bathroom. One of the nurses unlocked it and swung the heavy metal door wide. She stayed close, but didn’t hover. I looked down the long hallway and saw David walking toward the exit with the other staff. He stopped, let others go by, and then turned away.
“I’ve got to do something,” he called to them. “I’ll walk to the gate later.” He waved off their protests and looked up. He saw me and gave a small nod. I sighed in relief and went into the bathroom.
By the time I returned to my room, I heard it and then the sirens started. They grew louder as they grew closer. Flashing red and white lights broke up the darkness of my room. Outside, I heard panicked voices and disbelieving shrieks mingled with the chaotic madness. The light from the hallway disappeared, and I looked at the small window in my door. David’s face filled the small space. He stared at me, his face somewhere between nothing and serious.
“Thank you,” I whispered to the ceiling.
The staff took a bus to and from the guarded gate of the hospital grounds each day. No one had noticed the century old tree jarred loose in the wild windstorm from the previous week. The roots, rotten and soggy, chose that moment as the bus passed by to give way. It fell, crushing everyone in the back half of the bus.
I sat waiting anxiously for Elizabeth at breakfast the next morning. It was hard to keep the smile off my face. She would appear soon to brighten my world, and David had listened. He believed me and, somehow, that had changed fate. I had kept one bad thing from happening, and the feeling was exhilarating.
I didn’t have a lot of time to enjoy it.
In front of the entire morning staff, my eyes fixed and the heavy black clouds which took my sight loomed above the brick wall that shook violently and then crumbled in front of me. Pieces of it flew in every direction, and money burned in piles along the sidewalks. People ran along busy streets with desperate faces, dodging the bodies that rained from the sky. I stared at the back of a man’s head, his hair black as night as he knelt in defeat in the middle of an enormous and busy room.
I woke up slowly and tried to lift my head, but my neck was stiff and pain shot down my spine. I must have really arched this time, I thought. I moved my legs, and there was something hard and unmoving next to them. I squinted in the dim light of the late afternoon and saw David sitting on the foot of my bed.
He leaned forward, elbows on knees with the fingers of his massive, dark hands laced. His fingernails gleamed clean, and, for the first time, I noticed a thin gold band on the left hand. He didn’t speak for several moments. I closed my eyes, comforted by his presence and took the time to account for all of my memories of her.
“Still there,” I whispered in relief and opened my eyes.
He didn’t turn but took a deep breath before he spoke.
“You saved my life, Simon,” he said quietly. I stared at the side of his head, unsure of what to say. “You saw something. And you trusted me enough to tell me. I know how much you hate the treatments.”
I nodded. Hating them was an understatement. They terrified me, they hurt and they made me angry. They were punishing me for something that wasn’t my fault. Something I couldn’t control, something that never hurt anyone. I glanced at David. In his case, they might have helped.
“You listened. That’s what saved your life.” I tried to keep my thoughts from those who hadn’t.
He shook his head tightly. “I would have gotten on that bus, same as I do every night.” He stopped with a short laugh. “Did you know I always sit three seats up from the back? Always. Same exact spot, every night. Two nights ago wouldn’t have been any different.” He sat back now, flexing his fingers. He pulled a wet cloth from his side and put it to my ear, wiping away some dried blood.
“I’m glad you listened,” I said as he cleaned me.
He nodded in full agreement, put his hand on my arm, and squeezed lightly. He still wouldn’t look at me, but stared at my ear with a frown.
“If there’s ever anything you need, anything that’s within my power, as God is my witness.” He paused and swallowed hard. “If it’s in my power,” he whispered.
There was only one thing I could ask for.
“I want to see Elizabeth,” I said. He smiled and moved his hand down my arm, gripping my hand and pulled me up to a sitting position.
“I am curious. More curious than ever,” he said with a smile. “What did you see two days ago at breakfast? Before this.” He waved his hand over my tired and bruised body. I stiffened and unconsciously pursed my lips shut. “Simon, I’m not going to tell anyone. You can trust me completely.”
“At least, now, you know I’m not crazy.”
“I never thought you were.”
“Really?”
He held up his right hand. “I swear on my child,” he said. “I never thought you were crazy, and I will never tell anyone what you tell me.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” I said, smirking. “Think you can convince the good doctor I’m not nuts?”
“What did you see?” He bent at the knees in front of me, his eyes level with mine. I sighed in resignation and then explained my vision to him in all the detail I could. His eyes grew wider, and he sat back suddenly, looking very disturbed.
“Dear God in heaven,” he whispered and wiped his face hard with his hand.
“What?”
“What you saw, Simon…it happened today.” His voice was shaky, and it distracted me to see him shaken by anything.
“The stock market crashed. They’re still adding up how much was lost. It’ll take days. Millions, gone. It’s on the radio. Man
y folks lost everything they had. People jumped off buildings, killing themselves because of all they lost. It all happened, Simon, just like you saw.”
“What is today, David?”
“October twenty-ninth.”
I sat across from Elizabeth at dinner. It made me nervous how she didn’t attempt to hide her eyes, and she spoke to me directly, instead of to her food.
“They did it to you again, didn’t they?” she asked.
“I’m fine.” I assured her with my eyes. “Really, I am.”
“You’ve been gone three days.”
“That’s the usual amount of time.” I glanced at the supervising nurse. “You’d better look down,” I told her quietly.
“I won’t,” she said through her teeth. “It’s not a crime to talk to you, and I won’t look down, and I won’t whisper! We’re grown adults and should be able to have a conversation!”
The nurse stared at us now.
“If you aren’t quiet, they’ll take you away from me,” I pleaded, my head safely down.
“Well, I won’t let them take you from me,” she said.
“Elizabeth, please,” I begged. The nurse was walking toward us. “Please, just look down.”
“It’s not a crime to talk to you,” she repeated, glaring right at me. “It’s not a crime to walk along the path together! Or laugh! Or hold hands! It’s not a crime how I feel!” she hissed loudly.
“It is here!” I shot back. I turned my head away, and she must have caught a glimpse of dried blood in the crevices of my ear, because as soon as the nurse approached her, she came up out of her seat with her tray, swinging it.
“What did you do to him!” she screamed, flinging the tray at her head. One nurse blew a whistle, and another ran in a moment later with a needle.
“Elizabeth!” I stood up and tried to get her attention. “Please, calm down!” Even through all the chaos, I looked for the other one. She said it came out when she got angry or sad. I watched helplessly as she got the best of both nurses in her rage. If it were going to come out, it would come out now. Nothing. Just Elizabeth raging in my defense until the shot took effect, and she went limp on the floor. Her eyes rolled and found me. They stayed locked onto mine until she slipped into a deep sleep.