by Lily Silver
Steve leaned forward and retrieved another one from the small cooler behind the driver. “I packed us up.” Steve informed them. “While you were at the funeral, Lex and I agreed I should pack our things so we could avoid more media blitz. We’re on the road to the crazy farm and then off to the airport in St. Paul.”
“I’d just as soon leave without seeing her.” Jack huffed. He started rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt. Once that was done, he undid his necktie and tossed the slender black fabric to the floor in disgust. “Really, Jess. Do we have to?”
Jessie felt the same. But, she would not give in to the temptation to flee without facing her mother one last time. Running wasn’t doing either of them any good. She leaned against Lex, comforted by his solid frame pressed tight against her and his arms holding her. “We owe it to ourselves, Jack. Face the dragon, together, as adults.”
Her throat clogged. It was hell thinking of her mother like this. As an enemy. Most people had warm, fuzzy feelings when they thought of their mom. Most people didn’t break out in hives at the thought of visiting their mother, or have panic attacks when their mother called them long distance on the phone to chat. Yeah, sure, everyone liked to diss their mother, but when it really mattered, when they just buried their father, they probably didn’t have the sick anxiety roiling in their gut at facing their mother.
“Lex will be with us.” She added pensively after several moments of silence as the green cornfields sped past the car window. “Won’t you?” Jessie couldn’t help but look at him as she asked the question.
“Yes.” Lex whispered, his eyes resting on her with tender assurance. “I’ll be right beside you.”
“They will have her, like, restrained or something, won’t they?” Jack asked the back seat at large as he gazed from one face to another with uncertainty. “I mean, she did kill a man.” All of a sudden, his composure crumpled. Jacks face contorted into undeniable pain. Tears filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks. “Oh, God! Jess?”
An hour later, they were ushered through the security doors of the Clark County Mental Health Facility. Jessie held Lex’s hand tight. Jack followed them. He downed a small bottle of Jack Daniels found in the limo bar for courage. Steve walked beside Jack, trying to steady his wandering gait as they passed through the glass and metal doors separating the patients from the outside world.
The buzzer stopped and the door clicked shut behind them. A nurse led them to the waiting area. Jessie stopped, pulling Lex beside her. She felt a little sick, and no wonder. She was about to face the woman who hated her, who resented her all her life, the woman who killed her father. True, it was an accident. Her mom had been trying to kill herself--or so the story went. Jessie wasn’t sure anymore if she believed Aunt Rachel.
What if Mom did kill her dad and Aunt Rachel was covering it up with the botched suicide? Something deep within Jessie was stirring; a queer feeling, an odd little jolt of memory. Something told her she was walking into nasty confrontation.
“What is it?” Lex asked as he drew her close. “You look frightened, honey. It’s okay. I’m right here.” He hugged her. Jessie closed her eyes briefly, savoring his solid embrace.
“It may be best if you take turns seeing her. Too much agitation isn’t good in her condition.” The nurse informed them. She looked from Jessie and Lex to Jack and Steve. “Who is first?”
“I’ll go first, Jess.” Jack stood up to the challenge. “Is she . . . is it safe? She did kill our father, after all.”
“Yes, there are two attendants with her. And she’s been sedated since she came in yesterday.” The nurse assured them. “Don’t worry. She’s not violent. Just keep the visit under fifteen minutes, please?”
Jack nodded, and strode with determination toward the patient lounge door. He paused with his hand on the door handle, peeking in to see where Marcie was before he opened the door. Odd instinct, that. Odd, and yet, very reliable, Jessie thought.
She watched her brother walk through the door and close it. The latch clicked. He stepped away from the window. She heard her mother’s voice, screeching. She hurried to the glass and pressed her nose against it. Her mother, dressed in bright red patient pajamas resembling surgery scrubs, had rushed at Jack. She was crying, pleading, and begging something of Jack. Jessie could only imagine what it was. Get me out of here.
Jack’s back was to the window. Jessie couldn’t see what his reaction was. He stood back. He didn’t allow her to approach him and embrace him. Oh, she was trying, but the attendants were holding her arms, preventing her from rushing up to Jack.
Jessie turned her back on the scene. It was disturbing. Jack didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to face their mom. She was pushing him. If they didn’t see her before they left, Jessie figured they would never see her again. She had no plans to come back here. She figured Jack felt the same. Their father died trying to protect the one thing he loved, their mother. He died trying to protect her from her worst enemy, herself.
Michelle . . . well, maybe there could be something there between them, later on. Even that seemed like a pipe dream to Jessie. Michelle didn’t seem to want them in her life any more than their parents had. It was just the two of them. Always had been. Always would be. Well, maybe now three. Lex was in her life, and she could tell he was fond of Jack, too. During the past week in Eau Claire she noticed how Lex looked after Jack as if he were a younger brother. She loved him for it. Jack was important to her. He was her other half, her twin.
Too soon, it was Jessie’s turn to go in. Jack emerged, tight lipped, his face white with pain. He didn’t say anything to her as he returned to the waiting area.
“What did she say to you?” Jessie prompted, wanting to be prepared.
“Nothing. Crazy stuff. They were out to get her. That stuff again. When will Dad come and get her out. She doesn’t know, Jess. She doesn’t even know he’s dead.”
Jessie didn’t believe that. Mom knew, deep down, she had to know.
“Your turn.” The nurse smiled at Jessie. “Just keep it light. Please. She’s been very distraught since she came in.”
Jessie just turned to look at the woman with consternation. Yeah, right. I’d be upset, too, if I shot my lover. She thought it, but didn’t say it aloud. The nurse had to know the woman was in here for criminal behavior, for accidently shooting her husband. The nurse was playing dumb, pasting on a smile. Well, what else could anyone do in the face of a horrible family tragedy.
She moved to the door. Lex was right behind her. She waited, watching her mother, as Jack had done before her. Sizing up Mom and her mood was more like it. Years and years of reading the mood, trying to anticipate which Marcie would show her face today, the nice one or the mean, scary one. She turned the knob. She heard the click. Her hand stayed on the doorknob, unwilling to release it. Unwilling to go in.
This was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea.
There was a deep, burning sensation in her chest. Jessie swallowed the rock in her throat and tried to move forward. She couldn’t. She was frozen in place.
Lex’s hand covered hers on the doorknob. “I’m right behind you.” He whispered, his warm, cinnamon breath caressing her cheek. “Let’s do this.”
Lex helped Jessie into the room. He placed his arm about her waist, guiding her. He understood her fear, how horrible this was for her. To face the woman who killed her father. A woman chained by mental illness. He focused his attention on Jessie, leading her slowly across the room as he watched her carefully for signs of emotional distress.
He remembered well the panic attack she had over a month ago, the one that sent her to the hospital and the subsequent diagnosis of a mild heart condition. Jessie’s pale white hand was splayed over her heart. He noted it, but figured it was due to the emotion of the moment. “Are you all right, sweetheart?” He asked, just to be sure.
“Yeah.” Her answer wasn’t convincing. Her voice was thin, high, almost child-like.
“You!”
> The vehemence in that one word from across the room was enough to make Lex turn his head to the owner of that malicious hiss. The dumpy blonde woman opposite them made the hackles rise on the back of his neck as he experienced a frightening sense of déjà vu. Lex knew this woman. He knew her from a past encounter. He couldn’t place her exactly, but every fiber of his being screamed danger. He froze, instinctively putting his arm in front of Jessie in a protective gesture to prevent her from advancing toward the dangerous wretch.
The attendants kept talking to Jessie’s mother as they closed in on her from either side. “Now, Marcie, don’t get upset. Your daughter is here to see you. She came all the way from California, just like your son. Isn’t that nice?”
Marcie started muttering to herself. She turned away from them, nervously twisting her fingers through her dirty blonde hair with neurotic agitation. She started tugging at her ear and then licked her palm and ran it over her hair as if to smooth it.
“So, Mom, I guess this is goodbye.” Jessie said in a shaky voice that wound tight, curling fingers around Lex’s heart.
“Goodbye?” The wild eyes turned about to face them. “Goodbye?” She screeched like a Kyrie. “This is the thanks I get for taking you in? You bitch.”
Lex’s blood ran cold. He knew this scene. He’d been here once before.
“Marcie, is that any way to talk to your daughter?” The attendant chastened.
“Behave or we’ll take you back to your room.” The other one added.
“Jessie, we need to go.” Lex whispered, curling his arm tighter about her waist.
She put her hand up, signaling she wished for him to wait. “Yeah, Mom. I’m leaving. I doubt I’ll be back, unless there is a trial. You killed my dad.”
Marcie Kelly rolled her shoulder in an odd quirk. “He betrayed me.” She whispered, her distorted, wicked-scary brown eyes devoid of guilt or sorrow. “He was cheating on me with the serving girls. He was going to leave me. Just like you!”
“No, Dad didn’t betray you, Mom. Dad protected you. He cleaned up after you. He kept on loving you, even when you drove us away. Even when you beat him into the ground with your threats and your ultimatums. He stayed true to you. I guess you were his addiction.” Jessie’s voice was taut, laced with rancor and raw pain.
This wasn’t good. It wasn’t going to end well. He could feel it. Taste it. Lex felt a little dizzy, a little light in the head. He swore he could smell the coppery scent of blood. He didn’t like this. Déjà vu. We’ve been here before, together, the three of us.
Lex started to pull Jessie back, away from this mad woman. Time to go.
“Wait.” Jessie told him, resisting his insistent tugging. “Just let me have my say. Mom, I mean Marcie, I hope you get better. I hope one day, you emerge from the fog in your mind and realize you’ve destroyed your family, that you’ve driven away all the people in your life who could have loved you.”
Marcie rolled her shoulder again. It seemed to be a sign, Lex thought, a signal of some kind that her mind was working through a problem. She brushed her nose with the back of her hand and stared strangely at the wall beyond them as if seeing into another dimension on the blank wall. Her eyes wavered. Her nostrils flared. “So, you’re leaving me, after all I’ve done for you? You’re running away together?”
“We’re getting married.” Jessie corrected.
Marcie smacked her lips and put one hand into her pocket. With the other hand, she pointed at them and her glittering brown eyes fastened on Lex for several seconds. She cocked her head, as if suddenly remembering him, recognizing him. “You were mine.”
“Jessie, let’s go” He insisted, ready to toss her over his shoulder and head for the door.
“You were brought here for me, for my pleasure.” Marcie’s brown eyes took on a perverse cast. “To sing, but for other purposes. And she stole you away from me. She stole your heart--it was mine--it was supposed to belong only to me.”
“Yeah, that’s right, Mom. It’s all a big conspiracy. Well, I’ll leave you to them.”
“You’re leaving me, after everything I’ve done for you? You little whore.”
It was like a broken record, the needle of an old vinyl album in her mind stuck on that same inane phrase; You’re leaving me? It was like a trigger.
“Marcie, calm down. You won’t have any visitors if you keep insulting them. First your son, now your daughter.”
Lex kept staring at the woman before them. Her features, her voice, or was it her words? There was something familiar about her. Too familiar.
“Yes, Mother. I’m leaving you after all the wonderful things you’ve done for me. After all the nightmares, the suicide calls in the middle of the night . . . the false accusations and all the ruined holidays . . .”
The Castle. The Lady Marcella. Julianna.
“No, Jess, come away. Now.”
“Marcie!” The attendants screamed, moving to restrain her but she was too fast.
Marcie Kelly yanked something out of her pocket and lunged toward Jessie with her weapon held high and her eyes glazed with malicious insanity. “You took him away from me, you little whore. You’ll never make it to Paris.”
Everything seemed to move in slow motion, like a football game on instant replay. The attendants moved after the raving madwoman. She was too quick. Jessie stood frozen in horror, unable to believe her mother was trying to kill her. Marcie was no longer Jessie’s mother. She was someone else, someone intent on thrusting the sharp object into her competitor’s chest, just as she had several hundred years earlier.
Stepping before her, Lex shoved Jessie back, out of the way and put his forearm up in front of himself to block her assault. The stinging pain in his arm told him he’d disarmed his assailant. The attendants grabbed her about the shoulders and the waist and wrestled her to the floor.
“Jessie.” He turned about to see if his beloved was standing.
Jessie was on her knees, holding her chest. Her eyes were glazed and she seemed to be lost in another time. “Jessie, honey.” He crouched before her, concerned that she might be having another cardiac episode.
The room was swarming with people. Nurses brushed past them as they came to assist the pair in wrestling their patient into submission. Jack and Steve came in and hovered over Jessie to see what all the fuss was about.
“What the fuck?” Jack was red faced, ready to do battle for his sister’s soul. “That bitch tried to attack you, Jess, I saw it through the window. Good move Lex.”
“Dude, you have toothbrush sticking out of your arm.” Steve pointed out with a perplexed look. “That’s not a good look for you.”
Lex glanced briefly at his throbbing arm. Sure enough, that object sticking out of his forearm had bristles on the end of it. Marcie Kelly stabbed him with a broken toothbrush with a jagged plastic point sharp enough to inflict pain or kill someone who annoyed her. And that someone was Jessie. She meant to kill Jessie. Again. Lex lifted her in his arms and stood. He gazed about them at the staff as they all rushed to subdue the hissing, spitting, wild-eyed patient who was now about to be categorized as extremely violent and deranged.
They left the visitors lounge. A nurse came up to Lex, seeing he was carrying a stunned Jessie in his arms, she assumed Jessie was the victim. “Come, this way.” She directed, leading them to an exam room.
Lex set Jessie down on the table. She was sitting up, but she was in shock, he could see it in her eyes. He quickly plucked the toothbrush out of his arm and handed it to the nurse. “Here, you might need this as evidence.”
The nurse’s dark eyes widened as she took in the crimson stained weapon so easily accessible to all the patients in this place. “Oh, dear. Where was she stabbed?”
“Not her, me.” He insisted, showing the nurse his wound. “I’d like a doctor to examine both Ms. Kelly and me. We need to document this.”
“If you were the victim of the assault what’s wrong with Ms. Kelly?” The nurse’s gaze moved from the
gaping hole in his arm to the girl on the table.
“She has a mild heart condition.”
Jessie’s eyes grew wide and she gasped aloud, clutching her chest.
Oh, shit. Jessie was reliving her death from the past. What he wouldn’t give to have his guru, Ravi, here. Even Madame Aria would do. Past life regression could be a treacherous path for the mind to wander down, particularly if people re-lived the traumatic events of their death.
Marcie Kelly had been Lady Marcella in a past life, the woman who murdered his bride-to-be in the 13th century during the time of the troubadours of Eleanor of Aquitaine’s court. Lex’s mind quickly filled in the hazy details from dreams and nightmares. He never really saw the assailant’s face in his dreams. He only knew it was a woman, a very sumptuously dressed woman with a jeweled dagger and a hatred for his beloved. But he remembered that grating voice in his dream, and that hate-filled line; You’re leaving me, after all I’ve done for you?
Jessie was seeing it, he was sure of it as she kept gazing with horror into a space above his navel, staring haplessly at his white silk shirt. And then she simply moaned. Lex steadied her as she slumped forward into his arms. He held her against him as her head tipped back and her eyes rolled back with only the whites showing. He held her before him on the table with her arms draped over his shoulders and her knees parted so he could stand pressed tight against her and hug her against him.
Lex was not sure what was happening to her. She appeared to be having some sort of seizure. He started yelling, screaming, begging someone to help them, help him as his lady love was slipping into some sort of altered state of consciousness.
He was terrified that Jessie was leaving him, again.
The burning, searing pain was unlike anything she could have ever imagined.
Jessie clutched her chest, shocked by the sharp, stabbing sensation penetrating deep into her body. She lifted her hand to her face. Blood. She was bleeding. Something was stuck in her chest. She tried to pry it out. She clutched at it, jerked it.