Something touched my hand and I looked down to see Noah’s fingers curl. He stroked my fingers. I stared because I wanted to make sure it wasn’t on accident. He kept doing it. When I put my hand in his, he squeezed.
I looked at him and his lips moved. Not the way they did when he swallowed but the way they did when he talked. I leaned in close trying to hear what he said.
“Bob.” It wasn’t much more than a breath.
I laughed then I cried. “Bob. You’re right.” His lips moved again. I moved so close his they brushed my ear.
This time Noah said two words. “Bob Tail.”
Chapter Ten
At my next session there was a new addition to Dr. Chance’s office. A full length mirror.
I stopped by the door. “What’s that for?”
He motioned to the comfy chair. “Please, sit. And we’ll talk about the mirror.” I hesitated and he inclined his head. “It won’t hurt you. I promise.”
I wasn’t afraid of the mirror. It just hadn’t been here before and I didn’t quite trust the possible reasons why it was now. I walked over and sat down. “What’s the mirror for?” I tried not to sound too bossy.
“I’d like to try something new today.”
“What?”
“I’d like to move the mirror closer to you. Would you mind?”
I shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Dr. Chance went to get the mirror. The wheels on the base squeaked against the tile. When he got it close enough he turned it in my direction. It was a pretty mirror with a wood frame and base decorated with intricate carvings around the top and bottom. It looked old. He tipped it forward and my reflection stared back at me.
Dr. Chance sat back down in his chair. “Now, how are you doing today?”
As much as I tried to look at him my gaze was drawn back to the mirror. It wasn’t like I didn’t see myself every morning in the one next to the toilet. But there I only saw my face. Here I saw everything.
My hair had grown out enough now to cover my ears and I needed to tighten my bindings. My knees were boney and so were my elbows.
“Jacqueline?”
“Yes?”
“Would you like to talk about the mirror?”
“What about it?”
“How does it make you feel?”
Feel? “I don’t feel anything.”
“You don’t feel anything?”
“No.”
“Nothing at all?”
“No.”
His pen clicked and there were scratching sounds. “Jacqueline, can you tell me what you see in the mirror?”
“A girl.”
“Just a girl?”
“Yes.”
“What does she look like?”
“Brown hair.”
“What else?”
“Gray eyes.”
“Does she have breasts?”
“You can’t see them.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re covered up.”
“What about a vagina?”
“You can’t see that either.”
“Because it’s covered up?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s pretend the girl in the mirror has no clothes on. Would she have the body parts of a woman or would she have a penis and testicles like a man?”
I wondered if this was a trick. I decided to answer anyhow. “The girl in the mirror looks like a girl.”
Dr. Chance seemed pleased by this answer. He wrote for quite some time before giving me his attention again.
I watched the girl in the mirror. She looked bored.
“Now. I want you to tell me if you see yourself in the mirror.”
I thought for a moment. “No.”
Dr. Chance’s eyebrows twitched. “Who do you see, then?”
“Just a girl.”
“Does she have a name?”
I shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know.”
“Could it be Jacqueline?”
“I don’t know.”
“She has brown hair and gray eyes just like you. She is your height, your build, freckles on her cheeks and a small scar on her chin, just like you.
“So?”
“Lift your right hand.”
I thought it was a weird request but I did it.
“Now wiggle your fingers.”
I did that too.
“Touch your nose.”
The girl in the mirror looked silly touching her nose. She put her hand down.
“She moves like you, when you do, just like you. You do understand that this is your reflection, right?”
“Yes.”
“So are you sure this girl is not you?”
If there was one thing I was sure of it was that the girl in the mirror wasn’t me. “Yes.”
He wrote something else down. “Why is that?”
“What?”
“Why can’t the girl in the mirror be you?”
Maybe a couple of months ago his question would have given me pause, but now more than ever I was sure of who I was. I was not that girl. I might have looked like her but I was not her. “She’s a shell.”
He tapped his pen against his chin and then wrote something else down. “A shell?”
“Yeah. Just like what you find on the beach.”
“Why is she just a shell?”
“Because she’s only a reflection, she isn’t real.”
“Jacqueline, do you miss your mother?”
“Of course.”
“Do you think perhaps the reason why you want to be a boy is because the girl, the girl who looks like you, moves when you do, and is a reflection, your reflection, is the one who lost her?”
“No.” I quit staring at my reflection for a moment. Dr. Chance looked surprised.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you can’t quit being someone you never were to begin with.”
*** *** ***
Noah and me sat on his bed, the checker board between us. I moved a piece. He took two pieces and added them to the pile near his knee. He still moved slowly but at least he moved.
“I think you cheat.”
He smiled.
“You have to. How can you beat me every time?”
He shrugged.
“I think you have this rigged somehow.” I pretended to look under the bed by dropping my head over the side. When I came back up, Noah gave me a silent laugh.
Seeing him happy, the life back in his eyes, did something to the inside of me. More than anything I wanted to keep him like this forever.
He curled a finger at me. I sat up and leaned in until I could hear his whisper. “Outside.”
“You want to go into the garden?”
He nodded and I went to find a wheelchair. He rapped on the checkerboard to get my attention.
“What?”
He curled his finger at me again. “Walk.”
“It’s a long way.”
Noah shrugged.
“You sure?”
He nodded.
I hooked my arm around his ribs and he put his over my shoulder. He had no problems making it to the bathroom now, but his balance was still bad. The nurse assured me when the last of the medicine were cut off he’d be right as rain.
Or in Noah’s case, right as sunshine.
It was a record low day for late July. Combined with a breeze the blazing sun was more than bearable. I took Noah to a tree and we sat down. I could tell the walk had been more than he was ready for by the way he breathed, but Noah didn’t complain. He never complained.
We sat shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. The grass carpet rolled out in front of us, all the way to the brick wall. The grass had been cut recently and the heat had turned it brown.
Noah took my hand and our fingers wove together. I didn’t have to look at him to know he was thinking. I could feel it. A live wire through the air between us. He wanted to tell me something, needed to te
ll me something, only he couldn’t find the words yet. I wasn’t sure if he ever would.
I said, “Dr. Chance made me look in a mirror the other day.”
Noah squeezed my hand.
“He wanted to know what I saw. I told him it was a girl, but the girl wasn’t me. He tried to convince me it was.”
Noah squeezed my hand twice.
“She wasn’t me. I don’t care if the mirror shows me a girl. That’s not who I am and I don’t understand why that bothers everyone. Why can’t I be a boy? Even if I don’t look like a boy. Why can’t I be a boy? There are people out there who aren’t what they look like. Nice people who look bad and bad people who look nice.”
Noah gave my hand one long squeeze this time.
“I know who I am. I know. I feel it. But Dr. Chance is right. When I look in the mirror my reflection is a girl.”
Noah put a hand on my cheek and made me look at him.
“What am I, Noah?”
His forehead touched mine and his fingers pushed through my hair over and over.
“I’m not a girl but I’m not a boy. What am I? Who am I?” I saw nothing but kindness in Noah’s eyes. Nothing but understanding. Nothing but acceptance.
And I wondered why couldn’t the rest of the world look at me that way?
*** *** ***
Noah and I was peering over the back of the couch staring at Grom with Jonas. It was like a rerun on TV where you already know the ending but can’t seem to quit watching. When Grom left, Noah climbed down. He walked better now and didn’t need me to hold him up. They’d taken him off the last of the bad medicine and resumed his regular ones. They made him tired, but at least he was normal again.
Whispering and drawing, and of course kicking my ass at checkers.
“Jack?” Jonas headed across the room in our direction.
I stopped and Noah tugged on my hand.
“How are you?” He smiled.
Noah squeezed my hand.
“I’m fine.”
“Good.” He glanced at the door leading out to the garden.
“I was wondering if you’d like to take a walk?”
I looked at Noah. He stared at the floor. “Do you want to take a walk with Jonas?”
Noah shook his head.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
To Jonas, I said, “No, thank you.”
Jonas’s mouth made a thin line and he waved a hand in the direction of the garden. “Please, walk with me.”
I wanted to too. I wanted to walk with Jonas and talk to him. I think Noah knew this because he let my hand go and took a step away.
“Noah?”
He hurried to the dayroom without looking back. I started after him but Jonas caught my arm.
“Please take a walk with me.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“Please. I want you to tell me about Grandpa. He doesn’t tell me how he is and I worry.”
I stared through the doors but Noah had already gone down the hall to his room. Jonas looked so hopeful when I turned around. I sighed. “Just for a few minutes.”
“Thank you.”
I didn’t think keeping it only a few minutes was going to be much of a problem. Summer had returned with a thick torrid heat and the kind of humidity that took the air right out of your lungs.
Jonas took a handkerchief out of the inside of his jacket and mopped his brow. I was only wearing cotton scrubs and was burning up. I could only imagine how bad he suffered.
Jonas loosened his tie and took off his jacket. He laid it over the back of the bench before sitting down. The shade hadn’t cooled the iron much from where it had been in the sun all morning and the heat went right through my scrubs threatening to cook the meat off my butt.
“Tell me about Grandpa.”
I dug my bare toes into the prickly grass. “What do you want to know?”
“Is he happy?”
“I guess.”
“Does he smile and laugh and tell you crazy stories?”
I grinned even though I didn’t mean to. “Yeah, lots of stories.”
Jonas relaxed. “Good. I’m glad. When I see him all he wants to talk about is Sarah. I miss him so much. The old him. The one who laughed and teased me and threatened to turn me into a toad. Not the man who’s angry all the time.”
“He’s not angry all the time. Only when you come.” Jonas frowned and so did I. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
He nodded. “It’s okay, I understand.”
“No, no, it’s not okay. It’s just that…” I wiped the sweat off my brow. Jonas offered me his handkerchief and I declined. “He wants to see Sarah so bad.”
“I know.”
“It’s the only thing he wants.”
“Yeah, I know that too.”
“Why do you think he doesn’t understand that she’s gone?”
“I’m not sure he doesn’t understand, rather he doesn’t want to believe what’s real. He’s never dealt with Grandma Sarah’s death. She died before he came home and he couldn’t even come to her funeral. He never said goodbye. In his mind it never happened. She’s still alive and out there somewhere waiting for him. I think it’s why he made up his magical world where he is a powerful wizard who can protect the innocent and right wrongs.”
“Maybe he is in a way.”
Jonas chuckled.
“No, I’m serious.”
“He’s not a wizard.”
“I know that. But maybe he is someone who saves people. Protects them.”
“Not since the war. Not in a very long time.”
“He saved Noah.”
Jonas leaned back in the bench and regarded me with a sheltered expression. “How?”
“There’s this patient, Markus. One day he tried to hurt Noah and Grom pulled out his wand—straw—and pointed it at him. Markus stopped. He was brave. He got between Noah and Markus and he made this giant man stop all by pointing a straw at his nose.”
“He got lucky.”
“And that makes him all the more brave. He didn’t stand a chance. Not with just a straw. Markus could have killed him.”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“And what about me?”
“What about you?”
My throat tightened and my hands felt clammy. I rubbed them on my knees. Sweat made the fabric cling to my skin. “He saved me.”
“How?”
I stared at the dead grass sticking up between my toes. “Frank, an orderly. He tried to hurt me.” I closed my eyes and I could still smell him. Sweat and lust. His touch forever burned into my skin. His voice, his aggression, now a thing of my nightmares.
“Jack?” Jonas touched my hand. “Are you okay?”
I nodded because I couldn’t talk. And I felt trapped because I’d lost control of my words. Was this how Noah felt, powerless against his emotions, and his fear?
“Do you need me to go get a nurse?”
I shook my head. I swallowed. I breathed. “Frank tried to hurt me. He tore my clothes. Grom walked in and saw him. Frank told him to leave and he did. Only he came back. He came back and he didn’t have to.”
“What happened?”
“Grom hit him with a bed pan. Over and over and over…” Till his face was a bloody pulp. Until he hadn’t looked like a man and more like a busted piece of fruit. “He saved me.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” His knuckles touched my cheek. It bothered me that I liked it.
“I’m fine. If it wasn’t for Grom I wouldn’t be.”
Jonas watched me for a long time, like maybe he was trying to see a lie or maybe trying to understand who Grom really was. I don’t know if he found what he was looking for or not.
“Can I ask you something?”
I nodded.
“Why are you here?” His gaze burned hotter than the sun and I went back to staring at the ground. When it was no longer enough I stood up. Jonas caught my hand. “Please don’t go.”
>
“I have to. I promised Noah.”
“Will you walk with me again the next time I come visit Grandpa Grom?”
Would I? “Sure, I’d like that.” If only it had been a lie.
*** *** ***
I found Noah in his room. Perched on the bed he had his drawing book in his lap. His hand made angry, brutal slashes across the paper.
“Noah?”
He didn’t look at me. He kept drawing.
I came in without asking. I tried to look over his shoulder and he jerked his note pad away. He threw everything on the bed. On his feet Noah paced. His hands dug into his scalp. His breathing was heavy. He sounded like a raging bull.
“What’s wrong?”
His livid gaze met mine. He opened his mouth and nothing but a hissing noise came out. Noah continued to pace. He hit the side of his head with a fist, the other clenched and unclenched the front of his shirt.
“Noah, stop, you’re hurting yourself.” I grabbed his arm.
In front of me, his face became the feral expression I’d seen in the dining hall, pain filled and full of fear. But his eyes were different. That’s how I knew this had nothing to do with the madness of seeing fire. I waited for him to pull away but he didn’t. He just stared.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” He didn’t need to say it. I could read his expressions. I’d understand him even when no one else could. And he did tell me. One action said it all. Noah kissed me.
It wasn’t tentative like the one he’d given me while we hid under the bed. It bruised my lips, and knocked our teeth together. As much as it hurt I didn’t pull away. His mouth opened and I could taste him. His tongue touched mine.
He pulled his mouth away, breathing hard, but we were still close enough that our cheeks touched and we shared breath after breath.
I felt dizzy and hot. Parts of me craved to be touched. Parts of me I’d denied. Pressed against me I could feel the parts of Noah that I envied. No longer an innocent presence between his legs.
“I don’t love him.”
Noah opened his eyes.
“I don’t love him, Noah, he’s just a friend. He asks me about Grom.”
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