by Nate Kenyon
According to her mother, that scream was the first sound that Annie Voorsanger had uttered in almost three years.
“So what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Jess said. She did not want to look away from the road, but finally she did.
Shelley sat up straight in the passenger seat and was looking at her with the calm and considered gaze of a doctor. “Give me an opinion.”
“She’s obviously disturbed. Beyond that—she’d need to be examined more fully.”
“You can see how it was,” Shelley said. There was a gleam in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Sarah was alone with them and I wanted to get her out as fast as I could. They agreed to give me full legal responsibility and the state signed the paperwork. If she ever got to the point of leaving my care I would contact them.”
“Would you have?”
“I doubt it.”
Take her, I told you, Mrs. Voorsanger had said, turning to Shelley as they left, as her daughter’s screams had finally turned to low moans. You remember. Care for our Sarah, I said. But never forget what she is.
And what was that?
A child with the power of the devil in her hands.
“You think they’re all insane?”
“I didn’t say that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned,” Shelley said, seeming to choose her words carefully, “it’s that the mind is capable of amazing feats. But what they’re asking us to consider here is in the realm of parapsychology. Pseudoscience. You understand what I’m saying.”
Something that was not logically possible, according to all the laws of physics. A child of the devil? Certainly not. That went far beyond anything she was willing to believe. A lapsed Catholic, she was not a particularly religious woman. Only in times of great stress had her mind searched for belief in a higher power, and afterward she always felt slightly embarrassed, a little childish, as if someone might have seen what she had been thinking and thought less of her for it.
But there had been studies, she knew, examining just this kind of phenomenon. ESP. Psychokinesis. Some of them were fairly persuasive.
And yet. All those years of training in the science of everything, an unwavering belief in everything explained, rationalized, dissected. Things like this just didn’t happen, or if they did there was a logical explanation. Did she believe it now? Could she believe it?
“That wasn’t the whole story,” Shelley said quietly, interrupting her thoughts. “I want you to understand that we acted in the true interests of the child. There was evidence of physical abuse when we took her in. Bruises, a slight concussion. We think it was the husband, Ed, though it could have been any of them.”
“They were hurting her?”
“Something happened to that little girl, and it wasn’t falling out of her crib. Remember that when you’re thinking about what we just heard.”
They reached the airport. Jess ignored the appreciative glances from the two men who filled the plane’s gas tank, their eyes moving across her face and breasts like men considering a purchase. She felt a cold dark emptiness, as if she were outside herself looking in.
Soon she was looking down the wing as they turned to circle back over a tiny toy airport and flash of hills, a ribbon of road through green trees and grass, lines of houses drawn in neat patterns and squares. From above, everything looked as if it had been fashioned by giant hands, laid out in neat geometric shapes.
The distance gained was more than physical. There were many times in her teenage years when she had felt the lift of the wings like a sudden unburdening, and the whoosh of air sounded like something chasing her from the ground.
It was still that way, she decided. No matter how hard she tried she could never outrun what was chasing her. She always had to land.
STAGE TWO
—12—
“Maria’s given her notice,” Dr. Wasserman said, leaning forward in his chair and fixing Jess with an intent and serious gaze.
This time his tic did not show itself, but his nervous energy remained. He picked up a sharpened pencil, tapping the eraser against the resignation letter on his desk, like someone knocking to get in. “It’s a tragedy of course, a terrible setback for the hospital. Maria was one of the few I trusted to tend to our more difficult patients…Are you all right?” Wasserman was looking at her curiously now.
“I’m fine.”
“Did you notice anything when you were here last? Did she seem unhappy, angry?”
“She did seem a little upset.”
Wasserman shook his head. “It was very abrupt. I tried to speak with her….”
“I’m not exactly sure what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” Wasserman leaned back in his chair, then forward again, as if trying to get comfortable. “It’s unfortunate, but I cannot allow it to adversely affect what we’re trying to accomplish here.” He paused as if to emphasize his point. “I have to say that Sarah has made a rather remarkable improvement. She’s more alert, docile, cooperative. We’ve adjusted her medication, but I’ll admit that your visits may have had something to do with it.”
“I wanted to speak to you about that, actually, Dr. Wasserman. I wondered if it might be possible to take Sarah outside the quiet room for a few hours, maybe a couple of times this week. I think she might benefit from a more interactive environment.”
For the past several days Jess had been trying to decide how to approach the situation. The one conclusion she seemed able to reach was that she wanted to help Sarah at whatever the cost. It was obvious she would have to do some damage control with Wasserman after the last visit, but kissing ass had never been her thing. Especially a slimy one. No matter how hard she tried, she could not get an image of him out of her head: Wasserman sitting in his office after her first meeting with Sarah, grinning at her when she told him she was going to report what she considered abuse. Like a teacher with an unruly student. And now that image had grown, twisted, so that he was leering at her inside her mind, openly mocking.
Go on. Get it over with.
But Wasserman surprised her. There was something different about him today, Jess noticed, something that went beyond Maria’s resignation. He seemed more uncertain, a look in his eyes as if he were uncomfortable with her presence. Had something else happened? she wondered. Whatever it was, it couldn’t possibly last.
“From what Jean has told me, you visited the family and you have some idea what we were dealing with so many years ago. I hope you can understand why it was necessary to take her away from that situation. And also why confidentiality was such an issue.” He sighed and shook his head. “Strange people. I can’t say I ever met them in person, but I did talk to her grandmother at the time of Sarah’s admittance. The experience was unsettling.” He was staring out and beyond her now. “A woman with strange ideas.” He focused on her suddenly and smiled, but there was no warmth held there. “Silly isn’t it? Childish superstitions.”
“Dr. Wasserman, about Sarah. Now, you’ve brought me in here to try a different approach, you’ve agreed to give this a chance.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Just that I need you to trust me enough to let me try to get through to her.”
“Hmmm. You don’t make it easy for me, now, do you? We have rules here for the health of each patient. I don’t just make them up to amuse myself. Sarah was restrained for her own well-being, and for the good of the staff. We’re all just lucky something terrible didn’t happen.”
“I’m sorry for any harm I may have done.” Jess swallowed to keep the sour taste down. “I did what I thought was right under the circumstances.”
Wasserman took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. “If she weren’t so improved I wouldn’t even consider it. But we all want the same thing here.” He studied Jess’s face as if he would find the answer in her expression. Finally he folded the handkerchief into neat little squares, smoothed the creases, and stuck it back in his pocke
t. “I’ll have her brought up to the play area. You may have an hour in there during each session together if you like. No more than that, I don’t want her to backslide.”
“Thank you, Dr. Wasserman.”
“Just don’t disappoint me.”
—13—
As her routine and surroundings changed, Jess began to feel more at home in the facility.
On the days she did not have class, she would arrive each morning at nine o’clock. The janitor and handyman, Jeffrey, would let her into the playroom, then take up a quiet vigil in the corner, arms crossed. Apparently he had been told that his duties during Jess’s visits would include acting as a chaperone.
Almost in spite of herself, Jess liked the man, maybe because he always seemed to be around, and he seemed to genuinely enjoy the children. He rarely interfered in any way during their sessions. In fact, she often forgot he was even there. Wasserman had insisted that he was trustworthy, if a bit slow, and that whatever they spoke of would most likely go right over his head, so she shouldn’t worry about what was said around him.
All that seemed to be true. He did not talk much. After Sarah arrived in the room he would smile at her, and then make a show of studying the bookshelves or cleaning up the toys.
During the first three visits to the playroom, Sarah sat quietly at the little table near the window. They were careful to keep her visits at times when other children were not around. She was clearly more alert, her eyes following movement, but she would not speak again or get up from her chair until an orderly arrived to return her to her room.
Jess spent the hours talking about what had happened during the previous day, or problems she was having with a paper or an exam, or she sketched, or simply took notes on Sarah’s condition. Sometimes she felt as if she was getting more out of the sessions than Sarah herself.
On the fourth visit, however, something had changed. Sarah was already waiting for her in the playroom, dressed in a simple blue jumpsuit and standing by the window.
Jess hardly recognized her at first. Her hair had been brushed and held away from her face with a band, and her eyes were alert and bright, though ringed with dark circles like bruises. She looked almost pretty, in a plain, backwoods sort of way.
Her breasts are starting to show, Jess thought with some surprise. She’s so young. Is it just something I hadn’t noticed before!
The air hung heavy and still. Sunlight fell in squares through the wire mesh windows onto the maroon carpet and children’s toys. A large plastic tube to crawl through, and a low, yellow plastic slide. More toys lay abandoned along the edges of the room; nothing sharp or heavy, everything plastic and worn smooth from hundreds of tiny hands. Jess noticed the sink the little girl had been playing with the first time she had come here. She wondered about Dennis, the autistic young man in the baseball cap, whether he had anywhere else to go, whether they would ever release him. What had he said to her that first day? I make her spirit glow.
The room was empty except for the three of them, Sarah, Jess, and Jeffrey standing motionless now in the corner. Jess caught Sarah’s eyes darting left and right. Her eyes settled on the man for a moment, something glowing there, a spark of emotion. Then back to Jess’s face.
How long has it been? she wondered. How long since you’vebeen aware of something other than the padded walls of that cell, or the walls inside your own mind’!
As she stood there, dumbfounded, Sarah crossed the room without a word and took her hand. Her grip was like that of a swimmer clinging to the rocks in deep water.
She convinced Jeffrey to lock the doors and leave them alone, promising to behave herself. He told her he would be right outside, and to call if she needed anything.
“Go ahead,” Jess said to the girl, after he had left. “You can do what you want in here, play with what you like. No rules.”
Jess let Sarah explore the room slowly. She sat in a molded plastic chair near the door and watched without speaking as Sarah picked up a naked plastic doll, and discarded it; then a set of soft cloth blocks with pictures of animals; then a bright yellow plastic plate and spoon from a child’s tea set. The girl moved easily, her visible symptoms almost completely gone.
Jess wondered again why Wasserman had had such a sudden change of heart since he had agreed to move the sessions upstairs. He had hardly spoken with her at all the past week. Do not allow her to touch you. From restraints and unsettling warnings to almost complete freedom. Had he simply seen an astonishing improvement and rewarded it? It seemed unlikely, considering his distrust. Why wouldn’t he just assume Sarah was playing more games, waiting for another chance to escape?
Sarah climbed up the colorful little slide and sat at the top, then climbed down. She went and looked inside the plastic tunnel. She went to the window and stood on tiptoes, looking out into the sunlight for a long time. Then she turned away and picked up a picture book from the built-in shelves on the opposite wall, and carried it with her to a smaller chair near a child’s table, where she sat with it in her lap, looking at the cover.
“I’ve got a present for you,” Jess said. “Some people say ten is too old for something like this. But I say you’re never too old for a friend.”
She picked up the paper shopping bag she had carried in with her and took out a worn, well-loved teddy bear. She had removed the plastic eyes and replaced them with two pieces of blue felt, but otherwise he was the same as he had always been.
“This bear’s name is Connor. He was mine when I was about your age. He helped me through some hard times. He’s yours now, if you want him.”
For a moment she was back in the bedroom she had shared with her mother, holding on to that bear with her life, waiting for the bang of the screen door. She never knew if her mother would be alone, or would be half carried, half dragged to the couch by someone she’d met at the bar. On the worst nights, she’d crawl under her bed and sleep curled against the wall in the dust, rather than face what was outside the bedroom door.
Sarah got up and crossed the room. She took the bear and studied its face, fingering the spots that were worn smooth with age and handling. Then she returned to the table and picked up the book again. The bear sat next to her, deaf and blind.
They both sat in silence for a while. “I like it here,” Sarah said without looking up.
“Didn’t you come to the playroom before I started visiting you?”
“I don’t remember.” She nodded somberly and made brief eye contact. “I guess maybe.”
Her eyes are so very dark, Jess thought. And so sad. “Does that happen a lot, are there a lot of times when you can’t remember?”
“Yes,” Sarah said, flipping the pages of the book in her hand. “Those are gray times.”
“You were sick for a while but now you’re feeling better.”
“I waited for you to come back today,” she said, shyly now. “I knew you would. You were nice to me. You want to help me. I can tell.”
“Aren’t there others here who want to help you?”
She shook her head. “They give me pills and shots and the gray comes and swallows me up.” She put the book down on the table and went over to the window again, hooking her little fingers into the wire mesh. “It’s pretty out there. I like it.”
“We’ll go out and play on the lawn sometime.”
“Can we?” Turning back excitedly.
“As soon as Dr. Wasserman says it’s okay.”
Immediately Sarah’s smile vanished. “He’ll never let us.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. He might surprise you.”
“No way,” she said. “But I could leave if I wanted, right now. I could just…break out.”
“Just walk out the door?”
She shrugged. “If I wanted.”
“But they’re locked.”
“I can break them.”
They were silent for a moment. Jess hesitated. “Why don’t you, then? Just open those doors and walk out.”
“I
’m not supposed to.” Sarah turned to stare at the large wooden doors. She narrowed her eyes into squints, her forehead wrinkling, mouth tightening into a pucker of concentration. Jess waited, held her breath as if breathing would break the spell. What am I expecting? The doors to go blasting off their hinges?
“I can’t,” Sarah said finally. “I told you. I’m not supposed to do that here.”
“All right,” Jess said. “That’s fine. I’d rather have you stay here with me. Now I want to ask you something. A while back when I was here you had a seizure. Do you know what that is?”
“Not a see…see-sure. I only fainted. I do that sometimes when I get really upset.”
“Well, maybe that’s one of the reasons the doctors want to keep an eye on you. To make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”
“I wouldn’t hurt myself. I just didn’t want any more shots.”
“You wanted them to leave you alone?”
“That’s right.” Sarah smiled. “I’m glad you came here. Before you came I didn’t care about anything.”
“So I make you care again. I’m happy about that.”
“Are you really my friend?”
“Of course.”
“And you won’t tell them what we talk about? You’ll keep everything a secret?”
“I promise. Is there anything you want to talk about now?”
“Sometimes I wish…I wish I didn’t do bad things. So I wouldn’t get punished. But I can’t help it. It’s scary sometimes when it happens.”
“Like you lose control?”
“Yeah. It’s like my head gets full and I…empty it.”
“Like a bowl full of gray mush. You just dump it out.”
“Yeah!” Sarah walked quickly across the carpet to stand close to her. She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “You know what I did yesterday? When they brought me my pills? I pretended to swallow them, only I didn’t. I hid’em under my tongue. Then when they leave I spitted’em out on the floor and ground’em up and rubbed the paste under my bed.”