by Dilloway, PT
Sarah imagined Alicia driving home on unfamiliar roads in the dark, blinded by tears, and running into a tree or off a cliff. Meanwhile, she had nothing to look forward to except another night alone with only her old stuffed bear Flower and the vibrator she kept in her underwear drawer to keep her company. “How about spending the night here? We can have a slumber party, just like old times. I’ll make some popcorn and we can put on some movies.”
“I don’t have anything to wear. My nightgowns are still in a box at home.”
“Don’t worry, I can get one of Mom’s. You look about her size. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“What about work?”
“I can call in sick. I’m the director now.”
A smile spread across Alicia’s face. “Sure. Sounds like fun. Like old times.”
While Alicia watched the popcorn in the microwave, Sarah went upstairs to borrow one of Mom’s flannel nightgowns. Then she looked through her own drawers until she found a plaid nightgown. Because the oversized gown wiped out her figure, she wore it only when sleeping alone.
By the time she got downstairs, Alicia had dumped the popcorn into a bowl. While Alicia changed, Sarah looked through the refrigerator for something to drink. No wine, no beer, not even a lousy bottle of cooking sherry. She settled for Diet Coke and took the popcorn to the living room.
Mom’s nightgown fit Alicia well enough, though it hugged her gut. Sarah turned out the lights and they laid down on the floor while the opening credits of the movie ran. They ate mouthfuls of popcorn and giggled as they discussed whether Brad Pitt or Mel Gibson had the hotter ass. After finishing the popcorn, they went through a gallon of chocolate ice cream and reminisced about Miami. Their memories differed, but it didn’t matter.
Chapter 16
Sarah scooped the remaining mashed potatoes into a Ziploc bag and then opened the refrigerator door. The fridge was so crammed with the leftovers of other meals and the raw materials for future meals that she didn’t know if she could find a place for the potatoes. She managed to slide back a side of ribs enough to squeeze in the bag. After closing the door, she waited a moment to make sure it wouldn’t pop open.
Mom came in with an armload of dirty plates. “Do you want to wash or dry?” Mom asked.
“We have a dishwasher, you know.”
“I don’t trust that thing. If you want the job done right, you can’t leave it to some machine.”
Sarah checked her watch. “Actually, Alicia and I are going out to see a movie tonight.”
“Oh. When will you get back?”
“I’m not sure.”
“If you’re going to be out too late, call so your father and I won’t worry.”
“Mom, I’m not a kid anymore.” Saying this made her feel like a child again, but she couldn’t remember Mom ever being this nosy when Sarah went out for dates before.
“I know, honey. I can’t help it. I love you.”
Mom put the dishes in the sink and began to run the water. From the way her shoulders bobbed, Sarah guessed she was crying. Sarah put her arms around Mom, resting her chin on Mom’s shoulder. “It’s just a movie. I’m not going off to Iraq or anything. Don’t worry so much. I’ll be fine.”
When Sarah let go, Mom turned around and smiled. “You better go upstairs and get ready.”
Sarah gave Mom one final hug before dashing up the stairs to get dressed. She pulled out the pair of hip-hugging jeans she’d worn out of the hospital. Now she had to suck in her stomach before zipping them up. She let out the breath and frowned at her reflection. A roll of fat drooped over the button and love handles oozed from the waistband. Disgusted, she took off the jeans and found a pair of slacks with an elastic waistband. With an untucked striped blouse, the bulge could hardly be seen. But now she looked more like a PTA mom than a woman going out for a night on the town.
“Sarah, Alicia’s here!” Dad called up the stairs.
“I’ll be down in a minute.” Her hair felt greasy, so she reached for an elastic band on the dresser to put her hair back in a ponytail that only enhanced the soccer mom image.
When she got downstairs, she found Alicia looking almost identical to her. They could be mistaken for sisters. “You ready?” Sarah asked.
“Sure, let’s go.” They went out to the driveway and Sarah considered for a moment asking Alicia to drive. The battered Cavalier at least had some speed, agility, and styling. Next to it, the Explorer looked so bloated, bulky, and dull. But Alicia was already climbing into the SUV’s passenger seat.
Sarah tried to listen as Alicia talked about the reviews for the movie they wanted to see and how the star had just divorced his wife to marry his co-star. “Isn’t it just terrible that such a hot guy would do something so sleazy to his own wife? Some people have it all, but it’s not enough.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Is something wrong? You want to see another movie?”
“No, I’m fine. Just a little tired.” Alicia nodded and then continued talking while Sarah focused on the road. She longed for the carefree days of college when they could spend all night partying and sleep through classes the next day. Now she had a job taking up sixteen hours of her day six days a week, a fancy house with her parents doting on her every spare minute, and a car that handled like a tank.
When they pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater, Sarah bought the tickets and found seats while Alicia stopped at the concession stand. As the previews rolled, Alicia came down the aisle with two Cokes, candy, nachos, and a cavernous tub of popcorn. “Are you going to eat all that?” Sarah asked.
“It’s for both of us.” Sarah’s stomach felt bloated from dinner, but she took a soda and a box of Goobers. She began to lose interest in the movie midway through the second extended car chase; she looked over to Alicia, but her friend stared at the screen with fascination.
Sarah tried to remember the last time she’d watched an entire movie. Most of the time her date had his arm around her by the end of the previews and by the opening credits they were kissing. Now she sat in the dark, squirming in her seat as the adulterous hero and his co-star dodged bullets and leapt from exploding buildings. “I’ll be back in a minute,” Sarah finally said and slunk out of the theater.
She went out to the lobby, but the only other people were three teenage girls, one behind the concession counter and the other two sweeping the floor. She needed a drink.
“Are you looking for someone, ma’am?” one of the girls asked, leaning her broom and dustpan against a wall.
Ma’am? She couldn’t look that old to them. The nerve of these pizza-faced brats! “I’m fine,” she said and marched back into the theater. She sat through the end of the movie, enduring more explosions and bad dialogue until the final passionate kiss between the hero and co-star. How long since she had last kissed any man? Three months at least. No wonder she looked like a ma’am to those punks in the lobby.
When the lights went up in the theater, Sarah noticed she and Alicia had gone through all the snacks. Many more days like this and people would start asking when she was due. She and Alicia could shop at the same plus-size store.
Once in the car, Sarah said, “Let’s get a drink.”
“Didn’t you like the movie?”
“Sure, I guess. I just thought we could maybe go to a club or something for a little nightcap.”
“All right, but I have to get up early tomorrow for work.” Come to think of it, so did Sarah. A state inspector was dropping by at the end of the week to make sure the aquarium was properly maintaining the animals. She needed to go through every tank with the proverbial fine-toothed comb to make sure they passed. Still, one drink wouldn’t hurt.
She stopped in front of a squat building with neon signs for Budweiser and Miller in the window. She hadn’t been in a bar since the accident; it felt like a homecoming when she climbed down from the Explorer and went inside. All around she heard shouted conversations over the jukebox music, darts thumping against the wa
ll, and pool balls clacking together.
“It looks a little crowded,” Alicia said.
Sarah only shrugged. She snaked her way through bikers, fishermen, and college boys. After dropping onto a barstool, she motioned for the bartender. Next to her, Alicia sat on the edge of her stool, looking ready to run away. “What can I get you ladies?” the bartender asked. He was a burly man who no doubt moonlighted as the bouncer when things got rough. She thought of the string of bartenders from her days of fake IDs until the accident who’d served as surrogate fathers by shielding her from sleazy guys who didn’t realize “no means no.”
“We’ll just have two beers,” Sarah said.
As they waited for the bartender to return, Sarah surveyed the local wildlife. She identified a group of unattached college boys and a couple of older men in a corner booth. None of their eyes were looking in her direction. They were all watching the girls on the dance floor who could still fit into hip-hugging jeans and could wear tank tops without worrying about cellulite jiggling from below their arms.
When the bartender came back, Sarah accepted her beer and drank it in two pulls. Alicia had not touched hers, so Sarah drained it too before leaving money on the bar. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t come in here looking like Betty Crocker and expect anyone to pay attention to her. She was just an uptight housewife who’d landed on the wrong side of town to them. “Let’s go home,” she said to Alicia. She stumbled on the way out and felt her head spinning. A couple beers never used to affect her. She used to be able to drink a twelve-pack in one night and wake up without a hangover.
“I better drive,” Alicia said.
“Fine.” Sarah tossed her friend the keys and climbed into the passenger’s seat. She was such an idiot to come here.
“What’s wrong?” Alicia finally asked as the bar faded into the rearview mirror.
“What’s wrong is I’ve turned into Susie fucking Homemaker. I’m old, I’m fat, and I haven’t gotten laid in three months. How’s that?”
“Come on, Sarah, you’re still beautiful. You’ll find someone.” Of course Alicia didn’t understand. She had spent her whole life sitting in corners, hoping someone would give her a glance. Sarah used to be one of those girls on the dance floor with every man looking at her, wanting to take her home. Now she felt like an outsider, unattractive and undesirable. She might find someone, but she never had to wait very long before.
“You’re probably right.”
“You know, one of the other nurses was telling me about this great new diet. Maybe we could give it a try.”
“It wouldn’t work, not with my parents around.”
“Come on, let’s try. What have we got to lose?” Sarah looked over at her friend and wondered if Alicia ever got down about anything. She supposed anyone who worked with children all day had to be perky. “We could meet after work to walk.”
“My schedule is pretty full right now.”
“How about before breakfast? We’ll get up at the crack of dawn to do a few laps.”
Sarah was already getting up at five-thirty in the morning to go to work. She didn’t want to lose any more sleep. Then she saw her bloated reflection in the rearview mirror. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter 17
After Max sat down, Lindsey asked, “What’s wrong?” He’d hoped not to be so transparent.
“It’s Sarah.”
“What about her?”
He thought back to the conversation in the Explorer after leaving the bar. She didn’t feel pretty and she wanted to have sex. He could handle the former, but even after a night spent thinking about the latter, he didn’t have a solution. “She wants to get…closer.”
“Ah, I see. Are you talking about intimacy?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Max, that’s really a job for a different kind of therapist. I could probably get you some Dr. Ruth books on tape to help you out some.”
“Who?” Before she could answer, he slapped his cane against her desktop. “Damn it, this isn’t a joke!”
Lindsey didn’t respond for almost a minute, but when she did, her voice was composed and emotionless. “Max, I didn’t mean it as a joke. I’m sorry. Now, can we discuss this rationally or should I call for security?”
“I’m sorry. This is all—” He searched for the right word to describe this latest development. Frustrating seemed the best choice. Not just that she wanted sex, but everything he did for her went wrong. He created a whole new life for her, but none of it made her happy.
He’d seen the signs during his prior visits. The way she snuck alcohol from her drawer at work. How she gained weight a little at a time. The outbursts with her mother. Naively, he’d thought everything would blow over in time, as she adjusted to the new life. Instead, her unhappiness only increased. Then he thought adding Alicia Perry would help, but last night proved she needed more than a friend.
“I understand,” Lindsey said. “I don’t imagine you have a lot of experience with intimacy after living in Gull Island Psychiatric for fifteen years.”
“Just once.”
“Really? Was this a fellow patient, an orderly, a doctor? Someone from the outside?”
“No, it was my roommate. The one who died.”
“Alberto Conte.”
“Yes.” On his first day at Gull Island Psych, he met Alberto Conte in the rec room. While an orderly was giving Max a tour, Max tripped and fell over a table where two people were playing checkers. As he lay on the linoleum with checkers pressed against his forehead, he heard Conte laugh. It started as a chuckle, but grew in volume until it was hysterical.
He heard the same laugh after they got to Max’s room. “I think you’ve already met Alberto,” the orderly said.
“Yeah, sorry about that earlier. Little prank. Hazing the new guy, you know?”
“No.”
“No hard feelings.” As the orderly pulled back to the door, Alberto whispered, “You and I are going to have a lot of fun together, sweetheart.”
Before the orderly could close the door, Max lunged forward. “Don’t leave me here!” he screamed over and over again, fighting like a wild animal to keep the door from closing. Three orderlies finally restrained him and gave him a shot to put him under.
When he awoke, he felt Conte’s breath on his cheek. “You’re awake now. Good. You feel this?” Something cool and metallic touched Max’s neck. “If you make a sound, I’m going to cut you open. Now, I want you to roll over.”
Max did as he was told and followed all of Conte’s instructions. He rolled over in bed with his face pressed against the pillow. He didn’t move as Conte peeled off his pants and underwear. He sobbed into his pillow without a sound as Conte entered him from behind.
“He raped you?” Lindsey asked. Max nodded. “Jesus Christ. And you never told anyone at the hospital?” Max shook his head. “Then the next morning he had a nervous breakdown and three weeks later slashed his wrists?” Max nodded.
But that was only half the story. The half he could tell Lindsey. The rest she would never believe.
After Conte finished, Max curled into a ball and pressed himself into a corner. As he sat there, a rage built within him, growing each time he remembered what Conte had done to him. The tears dried and he waited, biding his time until he could make Conte pay.
Then came his opportunity. Max found himself within Conte’s mind as the rapist dreamed. He couldn’t remember Conte’s original dream. It didn’t matter.
Max created the shoreline of Gull Beach with the harbor water as still as a pond. He watched Conte approach the water, pausing to listen with each step as though expecting a trap. Max waited for Conte to reach the water and then heard the high-pitched scream of a woman.
When Conte bent down to see his reflection in the water, instead of his face, he saw that of a young woman. He saw Alicia Hauptmann with her long brown hair and green eyes hidden behind oversized plastic-rimmed glasses. Conte recoiled from the water and held up a slender
hand with nails painted a light pink. Then he looked down and saw the bare breasts Max imagined an adult Alicia would have grown.
As Conte screamed again, Max appeared behind him. He spun Conte around and no longer saw his rapist. Instead, he saw the young woman he’d loved in sixth grade, who’d indirectly led to the accidental deaths of his parents. He seized her arms, pulling her close until he touched those pursed, fish-like lips. Her lips tasted as sweet as he’d always imagined. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t let her go, not after six years of waiting for this moment. Instead, he eased her onto the beach to make love to her.
When he finished, he looked into her eyes and saw Conte in there, still defiant, and heard his maniacal laughter. This wasn’t Alicia; she had been taken from him. She had been taken first by his parents and then by Dr. Heathcoate, who’d befriended him and then betrayed him by recommending Max needed more treatment. This dream was the closest he would ever get to her. With a scream of rage, he fucked Alicia again and again, until she was a sobbing heap on the sand and he saw nothing of Conte left in her. Then he backed away and began to run until the beach and Conte’s mind were left behind.
He found Conte curled up against the wall, as Max had been earlier. Max collapsed onto his own bed and buried his face in his hands. What had he done?
When Conte began to scream, it was with Alicia’s voice. An orderly came in to see if anyone was hurt; Conte only made incoherent noises until they took him away. Max remained sitting on his bed for hours until he found his father’s record player under the bed. He put on Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” and tried to lose himself in the current of the music. He imagined a river sweeping him away from Gull Island, to a barren field where he couldn’t hurt anyone ever again. There, he fell asleep and dreamed of his parents; they refused to look at him, drifting away farther and farther until disappearing. He woke up with his pillow wet from tears.
The rest of Conte’s story he heard from other patients, orderlies, and Dr. Lee. After Max’s vicious nightmare, Conte believed he was Alicia and kept screaming about someone raping him. The doctors tried a variety of therapies over the next three weeks, but nothing would bring Conte back. Then one night, an orderly opened the door to Conte’s room and found his wrists slashed by his homemade knife.