Rogers all but threw me against the back of my chair. He walked over to Noah. “Last chance.”
Noah didn’t answer.
It was almost like a magic trick. The detective jerked his arm out, yanking up his sleeve, while at the same time flipping over the match book. He held it away from his body. Displaying it to Noah, letting him get a good look at how he carefully folded the page over capturing the match head between the bed of matches and the front. The strike was quick, but it seemed to echo in the silence of the room and the hiss of phosphorus match head sputtered to life. An orange flame danced at the end, eating its way up the stick.
Noah’s arms fell some, revealing one wide eye over his wrist. The shaking in his body stilled while his pulse roared, beating in his throat so hard I could see it pulse against his skin. The detective barely moved the flame an inch and Noah erupted.
I don’t know if he hit the man with his fists or his head but the detective fell back, his nose a bloody crushed mess in the middle of his face. Noah grabbed the chair he was sitting on and flung it across the room. I ducked just in time. The leg caught Jones and the end punched through his eye. He yelled in pain and the other two cops descended.
Arms, legs, teeth, Noah clawed his way through the two men, kicking, screaming. Without his voice back it was a graveling hissing sound. The rumble of a beast. His hands dug into one man’s scalp, ripping free wads of hair. His mouth latched onto the other one’s face and he bit clean through the man’s cheek.
They tried to take him down, but the fury infecting Noah wouldn’t be stopped. He shoved one of them back and punched the other one in the throat. Noah’s face was a macabre mask of blood stained teeth and feral eyes. His mouth gaped open but there wasn’t any sound to his screams. Just a constant hiss, like a percolating coffee pot.
They got too close again and somehow Noah grabbed a gun from one of their belts.
“Noah!” I reached out to him but he didn’t see me. Eyes glazed with madness, he only saw the fire that was no longer there.
On the ground Rogers pulled his gun and fired, but with his face a mess, his aim was off. The bullet hit the wall next to Noah’s head.
The following gunshots were a deafening boom-boom-boom. Louder than the thunder of any storm I’d ever heard making my ears ring. The cops ducked, the door opened and everyone made a mad dash for the hall. Except for Rogers, he wasn’t moving. The click, click of a trigger being pulled punctuated the sudden silence. I could hear yelling outside the door. I pushed it shut and locked it. I knew the orderly would have a key to the lock so I shoved a chair under the door handle.
Noah remained where he was, eyes wild, teeth bared, finger pulling the trigger over and over. He seemed oblivious to the fact the gun was empty and the man he was aiming at was already dead.
“Noah.” I eased closer. Rage and fear shook him head to toe. He blinked back sweat and blood. He kept pulling the trigger. “Noah.”
I didn’t know if he was wearing out or if he heard me, but the click, click of the trigger slowed, and then stopped.
“Noah, look at me.” He stared at the dead cop. His face fell and his knees folded. I could only hope he wouldn’t bash me in the head with the gun. I decided the chance was worth comforting him. I went to him and got on my knees. He looked at me, so scared, so apologetic.
I knew then he had bashed that boy’s head in. But I also knew what made him do it.
I shushed Noah and put my arms around him. His body continued to shake, but it was tears instead of anger. “It’s okay.”
He shook his head.
“It’s okay, Noah. It’s not your fault.” It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the dead cop. I held Noah and stared at the man. His eyes were open, his chest pitted with crimson blotches. He smelled like rich earth and copper pennies.
“Jacqueline?” Dr. Chance was just on the other side of the door.
“I’m okay.”
“What about Noah?”
“He’s here with me.”
“And the detective?”
I didn’t answer. I figured the silence would be good enough.
“We need you to unlock the door and come out.”
Noah shook his head and clung tighter.
“Noah’s scared.”
“No one will hurt him.”
I didn’t believe Dr. Chance. I wanted to, but I didn’t.
“They scared him, Dr. Chance. Detective Rogers lit a match.”
Angry murmurs and muffled shouts came from the outside. I stroked Noah’s head. “We have to go out there.” He squeezed tighter. “We have to Noah, please. If we don’t they’ll break down the door and maybe worse.”
The tears made clean streaks through the blood on his face. He didn’t have to speak to tell me what he was afraid of.
“I’ll make him promise. He won’t do that to you.”
“Jacqueline?” There was less noise when Dr. Chance’s spoke again. “Please open the door.”
“What are you going to do?”
“First, make sure you’re all right.”
“We’re fine. Then what?”
“We’ll have to discuss that.”
“We need to discuss it now.”
“Jacqueline, if you do not open this door, they will open it for you. I don’t want to see you or Noah shot.”
“It wasn’t his fault.”
“I’ll address that issue later. Now please.” Real desperation flavored his words.
“Noah.” He looked at the door. “We have to.” He let me go and I stood up. Noah stayed in the corner like a crumpled doll. On the way to the door I stepped in a puddle of blood, the sticky warm wet squished up between my toes. I swallowed back the burning in my throat.
“Jacqueline?”
“I’m here.”
I heard him sigh. “Thank God. Now open the door.”
“Promise me you won’t hurt him.”
“Jacqueline—”
“Promise me!”
“No one will hurt Noah.”
“Just you.”
“I can’t handle him alone.”
“Then just you and Dan.”
I heard him move. Maybe his shoulder brushed against the door. “I don’t have time for games.”
“Just you and Dan. Noah won’t fight you. He promises not to fight you.” I could only hope he wouldn’t. I glanced back. Noah stared at his hands, not moving.
“I promise, now open the door.”
I moved the chair, undid the lock. When I opened the door the two cops dressed in uniforms had their guns in their hands. They looked scared, like two little boys waiting for the monster to crawl out from the closet to get them. Jones was on the floor. There were nurses tending his wound.
“Where is he?” Dr. Chance’s gaze was weary.
I pushed the door back further until he could see Noah in the corner. The doctor’s eyes fell on the gun near his leg. “It’s empty.”
“Are you sure?”
I glanced at the dead detective. “Yes, sir.”
Dr. Chance stepped in, hands up. “Noah?” He didn’t respond. “Noah, Dan and I are going to help you. I need you to remain calm.” Dr. Chance slipped his hand into his pocket.
Dan caught my attention when he stepped into the room. He had a bundle of white fabric in one of his large fists. When I looked back at Noah, Dr. Chance was injecting Noah with something.
“What are you doing?”
He glared at me from over his shoulder. “You need to leave.”
“No, I let you in here.”
“Jacqueline, please, this will be better for all of us.”
I moved closer to the door but I didn’t go out. I watched as they slipped the fabric around Noah. It looked like a shirt only the sleeves were too long and there were strips of leather dangling from the ends. Buckles clinked and their hands worked, slipping the pieces of leather then tightening them down. When they were done, Noah’s arms were bound around him. He stood when Dan pulled him up.
Not even Noah.
*** *** ***
I didn’t sleep. I didn’t think. I simply stood in the doorway of my room staring out into the hall, waiting. Waiting for them to bring Noah back.
They didn’t.
I didn’t know what to do, so I paced. Head down, eyes wide, my hands ringing close to my stomach. I thought of his kisses, his touch, how he’d felt in my hand when I’d touched his cock under his trousers. I wished we’d done more. It was then I realized, deep down, I was burying him.
I went into Noah’s room and tucked his sketch book under my cheek. I found his stump of pencil under his pillow and I held it too, as if keeping those items close would bring him back to me. Shuffling feet filled the hallway as patients headed to breakfast. I couldn’t move. Even when I felt the hunger I couldn’t move. When lunch came and went a nurse stopped by the room.
“Jacqueline.”
I didn’t bother correcting her.
“Jacqueline, Dr. Chance wants to see you.”
Was it time for a session already? I thought for a moment, and then decided no. He had rearranged his schedule because he wanted to talk to me, which meant he thought it was important. I didn’t care.
The nurse left and Dan showed up. He didn’t ask for cooperation. He pried the book of drawings from my arms. I kept the pencil.
“C’mon now, Jack. You know the rules.”
I didn’t care about the rules.
I refused to walk, so Dan picked me up and carried me to Dr. Chance’s office. He frowned when Dan put me in the chair. It was still warm from someone else sitting in it. I curled on my side, pulled my knees to my chest, and gave Dr. Chance my back. The position should have been uncomfortable, but I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel anything. I squeezed the pencil until the blunt end stabbed into my palm. For some reason the hope of pain brought me comfort.
“Jacqueline?”
Wherever Noah was I hoped he wasn’t scared. I hoped he wasn’t hurt or alone.
“Jacqueline, I understand what you went through yesterday was traumatic, and I feel the best thing we can do is talk about it.”
So far, talking to him had done nothing.
“Jacqueline, please, I need you to tell me what happened in there.” It was the same voice he’d used to get me to open the door, and as much as I hated him, there was no mistaking the worry in his tone.
“Rogers knew Noah was afraid of fire, so he lit a match to make him talk.”
There, simple, straightforward and I didn’t have to think about it anymore.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Who fired a gun first?”
“Rogers.”
I heard him writing something down.
“Can I go now?”
“I’d like for you to stay. We really need to talk.”
“Where’s Noah.”
“Safe.”
“Will he be coming back?” Silence. I turned to look at Dr. Chance. “Will Noah be coming back?”
“That will be for a judge to decide, but I’m hopeful.”
Hopeful. I returned to staring at the back of the chair, its buttoned dimples and worn vinyl surface. I thought of the times under the bed, holding Noah when he was scared of the storms, how he trembled and clung to me. How he’d begged me to protect them.
Don’t let them take me.
And I’d done just that. When I’d opened the door and stood there, I’d done exactly what I’d promised I wouldn’t. I was a thief, a liar, and now a Judas. I was too tired to be angry. I was too tired to cry. The only thought in my head was Noah. How he looked wrapped up in the shirt with the long funny arms. How he wouldn’t meet my gaze. How he didn’t fight them. How he’d given up.
The fact he’d killed a man seemed insignificant to me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“Your sister is coming to see you. I’ve decide a visit would be good for you. Depending on how you do, I might even consider letting you go home for a while.”
My sister was coming to see me. I might get to go home. Was I supposed to be angry or happy? I didn’t know.
Dr. Chance waited patiently for me to answer and we sat through twenty minutes of silence.
Chapter Sixteen
She came bearing gifts.
It was after dinner and way past normal visitation hours. The nurse brought me clean clothes and my nightly medicine. A few weeks ago I’d found some loose stitches in my mattress. It wasn’t a very big tear, but I could see the stuffing. As usual, I tongued the pills, but instead of ditching them in the toilet I dug out some of the mattress guts and stuffed them into the makeshift pocket. I wasn’t sure why, but I decided to start saving them.
I lay back down on the bed. When I didn’t come to the visiting room the nurse returned to see what was keeping me. She chastised me for keeping Emma waiting. I barely heard it. I was thinking about God. Did he exist like Jonas claimed? Or was he nothing but a story? Was there a life beyond now? What was it like?
“Jacqueline, your sister is out there. She’s talking about taking you home. Don’t you want to go home?”
I wondered if my Momma was there, wherever there was. Was she happy? Sad? Could she see me?
“I don’t know what has gotten into you. Here.” She thrust the clothes in my face. I didn’t take them, so she dressed me.
The dayroom was empty of the usual habitants and the sky beyond the windows was dark. The nurse prodded me into the visiting area. Emma and Phillip sat on the couch. Emma had a fancy bag on the floor between them. Both of them stood and looked at me, first smiling, then looking worried, and then smiling again.
I missed Noah.
“Hey, sweetie, how are you?” Emma walked over to me. The heels of her pink shoes ticked against the floor. She touched my hair, but she didn’t seem to disapprove too much. “We came to visit, isn’t that wonderful?”
I didn’t answer and Emma looked at the nurse. She said, “Sometimes the medication can make them tired.”
I was tired. I wanted to sleep forever. But every time I closed my eyes I saw one of two things. My momma taking her last breath, or Noah defeated. The images came so rapid now they had overlapped into a strange montage of Noah dying and my mother giving up.
Both and neither.
“Jacqueline?” Emma touched my cheek. She had gloves on. It was too warm for gloves. She’d done her hair and it looked perfect. Phillip wore a suit. If Emma had been dressed in black they could have looked like two people going to a funeral. “Come sit down.” She ushered me over to a chair. I sat only because she pushed on my shoulders. “Dr. Chance has given the okay for you to come home for a while. He says you’re doing really well.”
Emma said ‘well’ as if it were some kind of prize. She smiled and I hated her.
“Look what we brought you. New clothes, and a bra, and panties. Tell me about Jonas. Dr. Chance said he took you to lunch. Do you like him?”
“Jacqueline, your sister is talking to you.”
I was numb, not deaf. Phillip glanced at Emma. She bounced on the sofa smiling and chattering away, something about new shoes, and shopping, and dances, and boys.
She picked up the bag from the floor and put it on my lap. “I bought these for you to wear home. We were thinking you could stay a week. If you do well, two weeks. Isn’t that wonderful?” She pushed at the bag and it crinkled, sounding like the pages in Noah’s sketch book being turned. I ignored the bag so Emma reached inside and took everything out. She laid some of it on my lap, then hers. I think the dress was yellow or maybe orange.
I stared out the windows. The sky was clear but the light from inside made seeing the stars impossible.
Phillip said, “What’s wrong with her?”
My sister laughed. “Nothing’s wrong with her. It’s just her medicine like the nurse
said. Look, Jacqueline, isn’t it adorable?”
I had no idea what she was talking about.
Phillip snorted. “Something’s wrong with her. She’s not better, she’s worse.”
“Shut up, she’s fine. Aren’t you? Tell Phillip you’re fine.” She put something in my hand. I dropped it on the floor. Emma picked it up and put it on my lap. “I was thinking we might go to a movie tomorrow. Would you like that?” The bag crinkled again. “Oh, I almost forgot. I bought you this.” She opened a small box. There was a pendant inside. “You can open it, and put a picture of someone you care about inside it.”
I already had someone in my heart. There was no room for anyone else.
Emma packed everything back in the bag. Her cheeks were flushed and her smile forced. Some of her hair came loose and she pushed the locks back.
Phillip got up. He looked at Emma. “I need to talk to you.”
“What?”
“Now, Emma.”
They walked over to the door. Jonathan’s shoulders were tense, and he kept glancing at me. Emma shook her head and her gloved hands fluttered. I only caught bits and pieces of what they were saying. It was just enough for me to know Phillip wasn’t happy.
Emma tossed back her hair and marched back over to me. She stuck her hand out. “Let’s go. The sooner we get home the better you will feel.”
I stood up.
“Don’t forget your bag.” Emma grabbed it off the floor and stuck it in my hand. I dropped it, and she did it again. “Let’s go.” She walked and I didn’t follow.
Halfway to the door leading to the cafeteria, I dropped the bag again. Behind me Emma said my name.
I didn’t respond and she grabbed my arm. “What are you doing? We’re here to take you home.”
I stared at her a moment. “Do you see me?”
Her mouth twisted. “What are you talking about?”
“Do you see me?”
“Of course I see you.”
“What do you see?”
She glanced back at the nurse, then Jonathan. Phillip looked like a man thirty seconds from saying, “I told you so.” Emma brought her gaze back. It was harder now, and anger flickered in her eyes. “Jacqueline, honey, we came all this way—”
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