You Found Me

by Joel Cobbs

  We moved beyond that and were now at the point of realizing He allowed it to happen rather than causing it to happen. It was a fine line, one that took a lot out of me to understand. We were both as confused and angry about it as the other. It wasn't possible. It was just another excuse.

  Most of all, we were mad at Mom. She'd been there one day, gone the next. Not even that much. She'd been there one moment, and gone the next. Here we were, all alone, and begging there to be something. She was gone and left us with nothing but each other, which we'd thrown away because of our anger. Our anger at her, God, and each other.

  It took a lot of work for us to actually admit this. More work than we really wanted to do. I had only one more day, and was happy to know it would soon be over. What was going to happen outside, I didn't know. Where I was gonna go, who I was gonna become, I had no idea.

  “Okay,” she said. “Our time is up.” We both nodded and shared an awkward goodbye.

  My day was far from over, my time barely served. Group therapy was next. It was done in the usual fashion. The circle, the nurse, the broken souls, the million little pieces of pain swept up into a pile. All of us, there as one.

  “Rob-,” the nurse said. I jumped. I looked up at her. “Robert, why don't you go first?” I'd given up on trying to argue the “questions game” down with them and simply given in.

  But what can I say? I was hurting. I really didn't wanna do it in the first place, but I learned I had no choice, so I did what I could.

  “My name is Rob,” I started simply. “I'm honestly not sure why I'm here. There was an accident, some sort of confusion, and then...I was here.”

  “You don't feel you should be here?” the nurse asked. “No. No I don't. I honestly don't know why I'm here.”

  “Why were you brought here?” Nicolas asked. It took me a moment to answer. I really wasn't sure. I knew their reason, but I had yet to believe it myself.

  “They thought I tried to kill myself.” “Who're 'they'?” Lucy asked.

  “Dad and the doctors down in...at St. James Community Hospital. They said...I was found in the...bathroom floor of our hotel room.”

  “Why were you in a hotel?” the nurse asked.

  “Dad and I went on a trip together. He would go and...do whatever it was he did and I stayed at the...hotel.”

  “So what did they say happened next?” I was uncomfortable now. I didn't wanna answer. I was through with this. At least, I wanted to be, but I knew I wasn't.

  “They said I was found in the bathroom, the floor covered with blood. They said my right wrist was cut to pieces. It looked as if I'd literally clawed my way through my wrist, as if I was trying to get to the other side of it. Like I wanted to try and make a hole to see through. They said I'd dropped a blade somehow, and when I fell it cut me up, caused more bleeding...”

  “Do you think that's what happened?” Lanty asked.

  “I'm not really sure what to think,” I said. It was probably as honest as I'd ever been up to that point. Today really was a groundbreaking day for me. First me and Dad, now me and my fellow sufferers.

  “For the strangest reason,” I said. “I can't remember what happened. It's...It's as if that part of me is purposely being blocked. As if I don't need to know what happened. But a part of me desperately wants to know. I wanna know what happened. I wanna know why I...why I'm here.” The way I was sitting, the way I was talking, the way I shuffled from one foot to the next, I looked and felt like a man who'd been beaten down with a stick. The way a dog looks when you get onto him. I looked pathetic and weak, which is exactly how I felt.

  “Do you think this is what's best for you, Robert?” the nurse asked. I paused.

  “No,” I said. “Not really. They think locking me up in a place like this is the right thing to do, sure. But I don't think this is the right thing to do to me. I think I need something more. Putting me here to forget about me isn't it.”

  “No,” Lanty said. “You're in here cause you need help.” “Help? Help for what? Help with what? What is it I need help with?” Everyone was quiet. I admit, I probably pushed it a little and was more aggressive than I should've been. But I wanted to know. I needed to know.

  “Anyone care to answer Robert?”

  “You're angry,” Tony said in a calm, cool voice. He was staring into space. I wasn't sure if he was really looking at me, or just imagining something way off in the distance. It sent chills down my spine. “You're angry at what happened to you. You're angry is what it is. The real question is,” he said as he slowly turned towards me. His pupils were heavily dilated, making his eyes appear black. “What are you angry about?”

  I still have no idea how he was able to see so much and still be in so much pain. He'd seen right through me and into a part of me I'd never been able to find. I thought about what was said and tried to move passed it. But I couldn't. I was still in agony over what he'd said. Maybe it was true. Maybe not. But maybe so.

  “Yeah, I'm angry with myself.” I was shocked to hear the words coming out of my mouth. I'm not angry at myself, what am I thinking? But no. Some part of me really was angry at myself. “I'm angry because of...everything. I don't know if it really was my fault, or if it was something else. Something that caused it to be my fault. I don't...” I paused. I don't know what was happening, but I was speaking. “I don't know what it was that happened. What it was that I could've done to stop it or start it over. I just know it happened. Maybe it was all my fault. Maybe it wasn't. I...don't...know.”

  That was the point in which I knew my time there and served some purpose in the grand scheme of things. I'd had an honest moment, one in which I felt my life change more than I had in the twenty years I'd been living. Something had taken hold of me, and the truth and been set free. Why, I never knew, but the point was it had.

  One way or another, my heart, broken for almost six months, spoke for the first time.

  Chapter Eight

  I awoke the next morning content. Yesterday had been a good day, and had made me smile. I couldn't remember the last time I smiled before I went to bed, as in an honest to goodness happy smile. I'd smiled when I'd fallen asleep many time, but it was because I'd managed to take away some of my pain. But this? This was different. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I was happy.

  Why? For what reasons? I'm not really sure. I wasn't really over what had happened, not in any sense of the word. But I felt like it was something I could overcome. Something that wasn't just standing in my way daring me to come and try to knock it down. It was almost...possible.

  Whether it would be or not wasn't really for me to decide. I just knew things had become easier. I felt, in a sense, that everything was gonna be okay after this. The feeling was small, smaller than any other feeling I'd ever had, including the anger and frustration I'd had over the last while.

  Maybe there was hope. Maybe not. But I knew I wasn't going to really be let down. Today was my last day here. Today, at 1:30pm, I was going to be free. There would be no fanfare, no parade, no balloons falling from the ceiling with a marching band leading the way. At the same time, all of that would be going on. And it would all be rained out. All of that was going to be going on deep inside me. People screaming and shouting “Hoo-ray!” and throwing confetti in the air, doing crazy dances. Then, right in the middle of it all, it would start raining. Pouring down rain that would send people running away.

  The storm would be the harsh fact that I was back in reality. This was no joke, no laughing matter. I was gonna be back where I'd been hurt in the first place. Back where it had all began and where it almost all ended. I wasn't sure I was ready for that, but at the same time I was. Oh how I was.

  Not much longer, I told myself. Not much longer.

  ------

  Though it was my last one, free time was still a hard thing to do. I'd moved on from the small, pathetic attempt at a poem, towards something else. I thought about cards, but I'd always lost every time I played. I'd never been good at card
s, so there wasn't really a point in trying.

  I thought about listening to music, but it was more of the elevator kind than anything good. When I heard people, all I heard was conversations of things that didn't interest me or seemed unimportant when you stand back and look at it. Just meaningless gossip.

  I found myself in front of the piano. I looked at it and looked at it. I wanted to play it, but I could only stare at it. I just stared at it. I wanted to get up and do anything else because there wasn't anything else to do. I was already bored with all the other things. Four guys hogged the TV all the time, so it sat on the Game Show Network every time I walked in.

  I played a scale. It was a C scale, nothing too fancy. At the same time, it was the hardest thing I'd ever done. It was then I realized what was wrong. When my wrist was cut, it took a lot of the strength with it, even so much it hurt to play the piano. The piano takes strong fingers, but this was downright painful.

  I played the C scale and stopped. That was enough for one day, I thought. But, then again, this was my last day here. Maybe I should try a little more than that. Maybe not so much as to play a song, but do the scale again. Try to build up some of that strength I'd gotten rid of.

  Up, down, and back again. Up, down, and back again. Over and over I played the scale. The keys were slightly out of tune, more flat than anything else, but it sounded decent enough for me to keep playing. I wasn't pushing myself too hard, but enough to where I could keeping playing and keep it in rhythm. The clock ticked away, on and on. Time was fading fast. What few things I had here were already packed and ready to go. I was merely playing to waste my time. I wanted to waste it constructively, in a way that would work out for the best.

  “Robert?” a nurse asked. I finished the scale and turned.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Your Dad is here.”

  “Okay.” It was a bittersweet thing for me. I wanted to leave and I didn't, just as I expected. The nurse had to lead me out, I suppose just to make sure I didn't go anywhere or do anything I wasn't supposed to. I half waved goodbye to the people there. I knew I wasn't going to see them again, but they also weren't really my friends.

  In one sense, we actually went beyond friends. We were soulmates, part of a group of people that only we understood, as well as only those who understood us. These weren't people I would be friends with on the outside. They weren't people I was going to write to everyday. These were people I suffered with, and helped me make it through my stay here. Sure, we were all rather selfish in the fact we didn't want others to bother us, but at the same time...at the same time it was different.

  I walked into the lobby and saw Dad. He was dressed casually, talking to my therapist and the doctor on duty. They were going over my medications and such. I would remain on what I'm on now, though at a slightly higher dosage. I would be monitored for any sudden changes in behavior and the medicine adjusted accordingly. I had no objections.

  “Hey, Dad,” I said as politely as I could.

  “Hey, Robert. Are we good to go, doctor?”

  “I think so. If you have any questions, feel free to get a hold of us.”

  “Will do,” Dad said. The doctor stuck out his hand.

  “Robert,” he said. “Good luck.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and shook his hand. Dad and I picked up my stuff and headed for the door.

  When I stepped outside, the feeling of the July heat against me was amazing. It felt good. I would be sweating before we made it to the vehicle, though that was fine with me. I never thought I would miss it this much. Miss sweat, stink, the smell of freshly cut grass, all of it. It meant more to me than I realized.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked.

  “Only a little. The food here really isn't that good to start with.”

  “I'm sure. You wanna grab something to eat on the way home.”

  “Sure,” I said, my voice unchanging. “Why not? Anything specific?”

  “I was thinking about Chili's.”

  “In Huntsville?” I asked. I was kinda shocked he wanted to go all the way out there. It was farther from here than it was from our house.

  “No. They just opened one here in Dawson City.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, apparently they've been building it and just opened yesterday.”

  “Okay, sounds good to me.” Though I hadn't been gone that long, it suddenly felt like I'd been gone my whole life, as if the world had completely changed with me.

  Dad went over what all would happen now that I was out. There would be no razors in the house, only electric razors that were deemed “safe” by my doctors. There would be no hot water going into my room, only lukewarm preset at the recommended temperatures given by the doctors. Those things bothered me, but not terribly so. My medication would be twice a day, with Dad keeping the bottle hidden away so I wouldn't try anything. That wasn't the worst of it, though. I was going to continue with my meetings with Dr. O'Nassis. Back to two days a week.

  I felt sort of okay with this. I'd hated the man when I first met him and the whole time before being hospitalized. I hadn't really thought of him that much since then. I was too...preoccupied with what was going on. I'm sure this time it would be different. I'd been through a lot and, for better or for worse, and maybe he could help with that. I wasn't ready to open up about everything though, maybe a little more than originally, but definitely not everything. The man was just trying to do his job, maybe even help. Could he really want to help me? Could he be trying to help me move beyond where I was?

  “What're you thinking?” he asked.

  “Nothing really.”

  “How do you feel about all this?”

  “I think I'm okay with it.” Had I really just said that? Was I okay with it? There's a part of me, one that I know has never died and gone away. That part of me told me that the bad was going to be okay. It was weird. I'd never heard that voice before. Never really listened to it.

  “I'm glad to hear that,” he said. My insides were tossing and turning. Not really because I was anxious or scared, but because of something deep inside me. I didn't know what it was or how it got there, but there was something. The turn signal was on as we merged left.

  The restaurant really had just opened. The place was covered with cars. I wasn't sure we were gonna get a parking space, but one or two were open. Usually when something first opens, especially here in Lewis County, people run to it as if they'd never experienced anything like it before and felt like it was as close to heaven as they were gonna get. Then, as with all things, the novelty wears off and it becomes:

  “Hey, where you wanna eat?”

  “I dunno. You?”

  “I dunno. How 'bout Matthew's?”

  “Naw, we ate there last time.”

  “Chili's?”

  “Yeah, I guess that'll work.”

  Nothing more than a fall back idea rather than a first choice. Even with that in mind, I was excited.

  Once inside the parking lot, we waited on a car to pull out. This parking space was closer to the front door, which Dad thought would be better for me. He wasn't sure I was back up to 100% as I'd once been, which was true. It was gonna take me a while to get back there.

  “We gonna be able to get a table?” I asked as he pulled into the parking space.

  “Sure,” he said. “We can wait if we need to. Unless you wanna go somewhere else.”

  “Naw,” I said. “We're already here so we might as well.” He shrugged in agreement and turned the car off. I was outside again, and it felt so good. It was great, just feeling the outside around me instead of through a window or in my mind. Just knowing it was here, and I was with it, made the feeling ten times better.

  I walked towards the restaurant with Dad. I gotta admit it was kinda hard to do at first. I didn't really think I could do it. I know that sounds strange, and maybe it is, but it wasn't because I didn't have the energy or the strength or anything like that. I think...I think I was scared. Not because
of anything going on there at that moment, but because it was dawning on me that I was officially back out. I was back in a world where I had to fight to be me. We live in a world where nothing is fair, but everyone gets a chance. Sure, it sounds strange, but at the same time it isn't. I knew I was facing a different world now that I was out here. And I was afraid.

  I was afraid I wouldn't be able to handle it all again. I didn't have the pain to take away the pain. I didn't have the showers to take away from whatever it was that had been killing me for so long. I had to do this the old fashioned way, if you will. And I wasn't really sure I could do that.

  We entered the restaurant and I was immediately shocked to see all the people. There was a decent group of people going in before us, much more than I'd expected. I mean, the parking lot looked full, but this was unbelievable. I stood next to the door to hold a spot for me and Dad to wait. He went to the host and said something about “Thompson.” The man smiled and said, “of course,” then motioned a server over.

  I could already feel the tension around me. The people were getting edgy because we were getting in first. I don't know if Dad slipped the guy a couple hundred or what, but I didn't think it was worth it. He motioned for me to follow him. I felt like I was doing something deathly wrong with how the people were reacting to this. It was as if they were all glaring at me, waiting for me to let my guard down before they attacked. I quickly caught up with Dad. I was feeling a little light headed, but was otherwise okay. The room wasn't spinning yet, which is always a good sign. Before I could ask how we got in, I saw the answer.

  Four table had been meshed together, and gathered around them were some of my bestest and dearest friends, people I'd taken for granted and knew it. Here they were, welcoming me back. I just laughed, then felt myself start to cry. I don't know why, I don't know how, and I seriously don't care, but they'd gotten together for me. And it made me feel special (as corny as that may sound).