Your Voice Is All I Hear

by Leah Scheier

  “What is it?”

  “I really want you to meet Danny.”

  I must have looked confused, because she answered my question before I spoke.

  “He’s the guy that I told you about a while back. We’ve been dating for a couple of months now, remember?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, of course. The ‘one.’ How could I forget?”

  She shrugged and shook her head. “Well, not yet. It hasn’t happened yet. I’ve decided to wait a little longer, just to be sure. Anyway, I thought maybe I could bring him over. I’ve told him about you and Jonah.”

  “Awesome,” I replied in a wry voice. “Maybe we could double-date.”

  “That’s what he said! That would be so much fun.”

  “Kris, I was joking—”

  “No, don’t take it back! Jonah will get better soon, and then we’ll hang out together.”

  “That sounds—fun,” I admitted hesitantly.

  “Also, I brought something for you. Danny and I have been doing some reading. He said that you should learn more about what Jonah has so you can help him. I brought you some articles about schizophrenia that we printed out from the Internet and this book we found in our library.”

  I glanced at the papers that she handed me. Each page was bordered by advertisements of pills with long names and showed women with patient, hopeful faces staring into the distance. There was a photo of a wise-looking bearded man standing beside a dirty alleyway with a caption that read, “This used to be my bedroom. I don’t want to sleep here again. Zyprexa.”

  The ad made my stomach turn. I didn’t want to think about Jonah turning into a smelly homeless man who shouted at nobody on a street corner. I shoved the stuff away and fell back against my pillow. “Thank you for this.”

  She nodded and stood up to go. “Whenever you need, just call, okay? And I’ll try to come by as often I can.”

  “Okay.”

  After she left, I gathered up the papers and threw them underneath my bed. The book, a heavy paperback called Living with Voices, looked less threatening than the schizophrenia ads, but I didn’t want to read stories about how some patients from Sweden got used to the voices in their heads. There was nothing in there that could help Jonah.

  There was a knock on my door; I called out, and my mom entered, holding a letter in her hand.

  “It came in the mail today,” she said.

  I took the sheet from her, glanced at it, then tossed it to the side. “The School for the Arts has accepted my application,” I told her. “I’ll be getting an audition date sometime in the next two weeks.”

  “Are you nervous about it?”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t had time to think about the art school. I don’t really care that much about it anymore.”

  “But you practiced so hard!” she protested. “What happened?”

  I didn’t know what to say to her. Wasn’t it obvious what had happened?

  “You hoped Jonah would be home by now, right?” she suggested when I didn’t speak. “You expected him to go with you to the audition, to hold your hand through it. But he’s not there anymore, is he? He’s not going to be there, and you’re finally beginning to see that now.”

  “Please stop it, Mom!”

  “Ignoring your own life isn’t going to help Jonah.”

  “I’m not ignoring my own life. I practice whenever I can. You’ve heard me. I’m still planning to go to the audition. I just don’t see the point anymore.”

  “You’re the point, April. Jonah wanted you to do this for you, not for him. Think about how proud he’ll be when you tell him you got in.”

  “If I get in, Mom. If.”

  But I wasn’t thinking about the audition. I wasn’t worried about whether I’d succeed or fail. I was wondering how I’d break the news to Jonah if I actually did get in. That dream had been the only thing pushing me to practice these last few months. The vision had once been such a happy scene, the letter in my hand, the two of us hugging, Jonah’s triumphant smile.

  But now, no matter how hard I tried, I could no longer picture it.

  Chapter 30

  “Please, April, I want to come with you.”

  It was not the first time I’d heard Kris say it. She’d been asking to visit Jonah every day for the last week. But I’d put her off with one excuse after another. I told her that he was too sedated, too confused, too everything. But she persisted anyway.

  “I’m your friend. And I want to understand what you’re going through. I want to see Jonah through your eyes.”

  So finally I said I’d call and ask. I didn’t really want to. Kris didn’t love Jonah like I did, so how could she ever see him through my eyes? Secretly I hoped that the nurse would say that he wasn’t ready to see new visitors. But Becky answered brightly that because of Jonah’s progress in groups, he’d earned a few extra privileges. An additional visitor was certainly acceptable.

  When I told Kris, she acted like I’d just scored tickets to the hottest concert in town. “I’ll be at your house as soon as I can! I just have to find a nice outfit and straighten my hair—”

  “Kris.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You don’t have to put on a show. It’s a hospital, remember?”

  “I know that. But I don’t want him to think that I didn’t bother. That because he’s in Shady Grove, I don’t believe he’s worth the effort.”

  Kris could be shockingly awesome sometimes. “You’re right,” I said. “Thank you.”

  I might have wished that she looked a little less perfect when she did finally arrive. That sheath of sleek hair and the miles of skinny jeans were a bit intimidating. But she’d inspired me to do the same while I waited for her. I dolled myself up for the first time in weeks. Makeup, hoop earrings, strappy heels—the works. I even put on panty hose. Jonah was worth the effort. I was embarrassed that someone else had to remind me.

  I think we both overdid it a little though. Shawn’s shocked face was the first warning sign that maybe I should have gone a little easier on the perfume.

  “April!” he exclaimed when we entered the ward. “You smell so—different.”

  I didn’t want to consider what he was implying about my earlier visits. “Thank you. Kris, this is Jonah’s friend. Shawn, is Jonah in the visitors’ lounge?”

  He nodded solemnly. “I better announce you,” he said and scurried off down the hall.

  “What a cute kid,” Kris remarked. “What’s he in here for?”

  “He’s…I don’t know, actually. Depression, I think. Something to do with his family. He’s been in here forever.”

  “Depression?” She wrinkled her brows and sniffed. “He seems just fine to me.”

  “Yeah, well, Dr. Hermann decides who comes and goes.”

  “Have you talked to her?”

  I shook my head. “About Shawn? Not really. It’s not exactly my business.”

  “I meant about Jonah. Have you spoken to Dr. Hermann about Jonah?”

  I motioned her to be quiet. We’d approached the visitors’ lounge as we were talking, and I hadn’t had time to explain Jonah’s rules. I never speak to Dr. Hermann, I should have said. I don’t betray my boyfriend.

  Jonah was standing in the far corner when we entered.

  “You were supposed to come alone today,” Shawn whispered. Jonah nodded curtly, his gleaming eyes focusing briefly on Kris and then shifting back to me. “Why did you bring her to see us?” Shawn demanded.

  Before I could answer, Kris barreled forward and extended an eager hand to him. “I wanted to visit you, Jonah,” she declared cheerily, flashing an overbright smile. “April tells me that you’ll be getting out of here soon.”

  Jonah’s face went white, and he quivered at her. “How do you know that?” he asked under his breath.

  I felt my skin grow c
old. I saw now what was coming, what Jonah was suspecting. Kris had said something completely sweet and innocent. But that’s not how Jonah heard it. He turned to me, his eyes narrowing. Don’t say what you’re thinking, I begged him silently. Please, not now, not in front of Kris. I won’t be able to handle it.

  “Jonah, she was talking about your therapy,” I explained. “I told her you were progressing in therapy. That’s what she meant. That’s all.”

  Now give me a nod, I prayed. Just give me a little smile or something and then sit down, like a normal person. Don’t hover there like you’re waiting for us to attack you. And for God’s sake, call off your tiny guard.

  But nothing came, no smile, no nod, not even a flicker of acknowledgment from his cold eyes.

  “It’s okay, Shawn,” I murmured after it was obvious that Jonah wasn’t going to answer me. “Kris is just a friend.”

  “I am,” Kris echoed beside me. Her cheery expression fell, and she began backing away. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You’re looking—really good, Jonah.”

  Her pause had been louder than the compliment.

  I couldn’t leave things like this. I needed to show Kris something redeeming. He’s still in there, I wanted to cry. You just can’t see it now.

  “Jonah,” I said in a calm voice. “I was hoping you could sit down and talk to us. I have a lot to tell you about school. I’m sure you have things to tell me?” I was approaching him slowly as I spoke, advancing in small steps as if he were a sleeping tiger. He frowned as I drew near him and began to inch away from me, backing up against the wall behind him. “Jonah, please sit,” I begged. “Don’t walk away.”

  He was glaring at me silently, his eyes still narrowed with suspicion. He didn’t say a word, but I could hear what he was thinking.

  Don’t trust April. She’s lying to you.

  He’d never looked at me that way before. I’d done nothing at all, and suddenly, for no apparent reason, he was terrified of me. It was bad enough that he had turned on me, but why did it have to happen today in front of Kris? She was the only person who believed in us, the only one who actually supported my love for Jonah.

  “Let’s go,” I said to her. “I don’t think he’s up for visitors today.”

  “I’m right behind you,” she replied, but her eyes were still fixed on Jonah’s face.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told him curtly and then turned and walked out of the ward without looking back.

  I was halfway down the stairs when I realized that Kris wasn’t behind me. I glanced around nervously and called her name, but my voice echoed through the stairwell. Had she really fallen behind? Had I walked so fast I’d lost her?

  I doubled back and hurried toward the ward, speeding up as I reached the corridor to 11 West.

  It took a few minutes until Becky buzzed me back in.

  “Forget someone?” she asked with a smile.

  “I didn’t realize she was still here—”

  I bounded toward the visitors’ lounge and then stopped; my breath caught as Kristin stepped out into the hallway. She paused for a second, glanced fearfully over her shoulder, and then reached out to take my hand. “It’s okay. We can go now.”

  “What happened?” I demanded, pulling back my hand. “What were you doing in there?”

  “I just had to say something to him,” she said. “I’m done now.” And she strode off down the hall before I could reply.

  I was standing near the open doorway of the lounge, and as she walked away, I peeked into the room. Shawn had already gone, but Jonah was still inside, in the corner where he’d been standing. He’d sunk down onto the floor, and his head was down, his shoulders trembling. I could hear him crying.

  I wanted to run to him and hold him close to me, whisper comforting words to him and lay his head against my chest. I wanted to pull a kiss from his lips, to stop his tears. But I couldn’t do it. I knew that he was hurting, and yet my instinct told me to turn around and leave.

  So I walked away from him.

  Kris was waiting for me outside the ward door. She looked a little scared; there was a sheen of sweat over her brow. “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said.

  “What did you say to him?”

  “I told him that you love him. And that he isn’t being fair to you. I said that you’d suffered enough.”

  “You did what?” I shouted. “God, Kris, I trusted you! And you waited until my back was turned and then what? You laid a guilt trip on him?”

  “It wasn’t a guilt trip. I know it isn’t his fault. I know he’s sick—”

  “Exactly!”

  “But that doesn’t mean that he’s completely gone. That doesn’t mean that he can’t hear me.”

  “Of course he can still hear you! I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “Well, that’s been your point all along, hasn’t it? That Jonah’s still there? That’s why you keep on loving him. Because underneath the illness, he’s still Jonah.”

  I leaned back against the door and put my face into my hands. “Of course he is. I know that.”

  She walked over to me and cautiously wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “April, I realize I’m not a psychiatrist or anything. But I couldn’t help thinking maybe it’s time everyone stopped speaking to Jonah like he’s a mental patient. Stop trying to protect him from the truth. And start talking to him like he’s a person.”

  I laughed bitterly. “That’s a very pretty thought. But mental patient Jonah hates me now. And I don’t know what the real Jonah thinks about anything anymore.”

  Chapter 31

  There was only one way to find out what Jonah was really thinking. I had an obvious clue that I was ignoring.

  His secret notebook.

  It had been sitting in my room untouched, wrapped in nasty wads of chewing gum and hidden beneath a stack of books. He hadn’t told me that I could read it. I was only supposed to guard it. But I’d been faithful and true to Jonah. I’d obeyed his every instruction to the letter—and he’d still turned on me. I couldn’t see any reason not to open his journal now.

  After Kristin left, I settled down on my bed and took it off my desk. The bits of gum had hardened into grime-coated strips that cracked and fell apart as I pulled back the wrinkled cover. I hesitated for a moment, took a couple of deep breaths, and turned the first page.

  The American Revolution, I read. During the last half of the eighteenth century, thirteen colonies in North America…

  What the hell was this?

  I was holding his notes from history class! That was his big secret? I couldn’t believe it. My heart was actually drumming in my ears, my hands were cold and clammy, and all he’d given me was some closely written chapter summaries of our history textbook. I flipped forward impatiently, skimming the pages with growing irritation. Had he been bluffing? Or did he really believe that there was something magical in here?

  I was a third of the way through already, and there was nothing here—nothing at all.

  And then I saw them.

  Lists.

  Dozens of lists.

  Somewhere in the middle of the history lesson, the writing broke off completely and became something else. A complete record of everyone in our class. Their phone numbers, addresses, random facts I’d never known, all scribbled down in jagged columns. Some of the names were circled with black marker, some were underlined or highlighted, and some were crossed out with vicious pen strokes. Then came a record of teachers, the principal, and secretarial staff, even Steve, the janitor.

  Ms. Lowry (I read): Metoprolol 25 mg take twice daily. Verapamil…

  What did this mean? Had Jonah found out our teacher’s medications?

  A blank page followed the final list. And then a giant X. Ten pages of Xs and nothing else.

&nb
sp; And then a transition, as his life at Shady Grove began. He’d drawn complex maps of the hospital grounds and marked them up with swirling lines and arrows. He’d recorded every nurse’s name along with explanations for how each had been turned by the U.S. government. He’d put together a summary of cafeteria food with the word “contaminated” next to some of the entries. He’d made a list of Shawn’s mother’s boyfriends and then scratched them all out.

  And then more Xs.

  I remembered what Ms. Lowry had said about one of Jonah’s class assignments. I’m worried because Jonah stopped making sense.

  I kept flipping the pages. Where was I in all of this?

  Finally there was a chart with my name in it, but otherwise you could never guess that the author of this journal even had a girlfriend.

  Spy

  Ally

  Dr. Aaron Golden

  April

  Mrs. Rachel Golden

  Shawn

  Dr. Hermann

  Katie (but they never let me see her)

  Carla, the security guard

  Nurse Tina (probably will be a spy by next week—will watch for signs)

  All the nurses (especially Nurse Becky) except maybe Nurse Tina

  Tracie (same as Tina—more likely to go spy because in medical profession longer)

  All medical students except Tracie

  Five more sheets of Xs then.

  And on the last page of his notebook, written over and over, in cramped and spastic strokes were the words:

  April Wesley will not betray you.

  April Wesley will not betray you.

  April Wesley will not betray you.

  April Wesley will not betray you.