The Back Building

by Julie Dewey

  Other than pottery, I enjoyed my time walking outdoors and sitting alone by the lake. Sometimes Rose Mary joined me, but usually I was alone. If it weren’t so chilly now I would attempt to swim or paddle one of the canoes across the lake.

  My next appointment with Dr. Macy arrived and I fully anticipated it would be more of the same ‘let’s get to know each other’ banter. I was surprised by the seriousness with which he approached me.

  “Iona. It’s time to get to the heart of why you are here. Do you feel ready to really listen to my assessment?” he asked.

  “Yes, I do, I want to know how to get better so I can go home. Doctor, please tell me what’s wrong with me.” The moment of truth had arrived, leaving me feeling exposed.

  “Well, it appears you are delusional. In addition to this, you are rather excitable and highly emotional. You are also obsessive compulsive as we discussed earlier. The word ‘delusions’ can encompass many things, but in your case it has to do with figments of your imagination. I have spoken to your parents at length. They have sat in this very office with me discussing your case,” he admitted.

  “What? My parents were here? How come I didn’t get to visit with them?” I was irate and confused.

  “It’s strictly prohibited during your first month, Iona. I know it is hard, but they did inquire about your overall health and are willing to do anything to get you the help you need.”

  I ran my fingers through the fuzz on top of my head and rested them in fists beneath my chin, I didn’t know how to feel. I wanted to spit nails I was so angry, but I also had a sudden urge to sob. I could feel my chest tighten and wanted to leave the office at once.

  “Small children often have imaginary friends, this is considered fairly normal. Usually these friendships serve as ways for children to gain confidence while they grow. Or, more often, these friends are used to test boundaries. For instance, if little Toby had an imaginary friend named Ralph, he could blame an awful lot of things on Ralph. He could say, “Ralph spilled the milk, not me.” Or “Ralph made me do that.”

  “Uh huh, what does this have to do with me? I never had imaginary friends as a kid.”

  “Your parents would agree with that. As a child you were perfectly normal, you were social, adaptable, capable, and agreeable. Now, that you are a young woman things have changed.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, as in the case with Toby and Ralph, eventually Toby would outgrow his need for Ralph and the imaginary friend would cease to exist. In your case you didn’t have a need for this type of friend as a child. Now, however, you are filling some need by believing in things that aren’t really there. Let’s take Hetty for example. She is near and dear to your heart, your greatest friend, correct?”

  “Yes, yes she is.”

  “Let me be frank. Hetty does not exist in this world. Hetty is very real to you, I understand that, but she is a mere figment of your imagination and nothing more. You have devised her to be exactly what you need her to be.”

  “That’s not true. Hetty is real, of course she is real. Why else would my parents hire her? They brought her into our house, not me.” This was absolutely preposterous. I could not believe what I was hearing.

  “I know that is what you believe to be the truth. However, Hetty is no more real than Rose Mary is.”

  “No, that’s not right. It’s not true. They are lying, you are too.” Anger welled in the form of tears and I was becoming hysterical. Why on earth would this man, who I don’t really even know, be telling me all these lies? I needed air, my chest was tightening, and my fists were balled up so tight that my palms were bleeding from my fingernails.

  “Take a minute to let it digest.” He continued to stare at me in a way that made me uncomfortable.

  “I don’t need a minute. You, you don’t know me. I am not crazy, I don’t have imaginary friends. My parents just don’t love me, they have wanted to get rid of me all along. They sent me here to this place so they could be alone with the new baby. Unless, I suppose you’re going to tell me that I made that up too?” I realized this sounded a bit paranoid, but stood my ground.

  “No, that part is real. Your mother is expecting a baby in a few months. Your parents tried to let your friendship with Hetty go, but when you strangled the chicken they were alarmed. They fear for your safety, Iona. Can you appreciate that?”

  “No. I can’t and I won’t. I want to speak to my parents, now.” I was firm.

  “I am afraid that’s not possible. But if you would like to write your father, he has agreed to correspond with you. Your mother is somewhat fragile at the moment with the stress of your, err, situation, so it’s best to leave her out of the equation for the time being.”

  “Dr. Macy, with all due respect, you are mistaken about all of this. You have met with me on what, six occasions? Perhaps you have met with my parents a few times as well, do you really feel you have enough knowledge to make such a bold, harmful, assessment?” I was beyond perturbed at this junction and realized that by speaking up for myself in this manner I could be doing more harm than good.

  “I am being honest with you, Iona. Your intellectual capacity is probably through the roof, which accounts for some of your social disgraces. You speak like an adult, and read at the level of one as well. I believe it’s precisely the reason for the delusions and also the reason we can heal you and get you home where you belong.”

  “I don’t want to be pacified, Dr. Macy, with you telling me I’ll be going home. Rose Mary said you say that to all the patients yet most of them never leave.”

  “It’s true, our population tends to stay for the better part of their lives, but we don’t force anyone to stay, we often encourage it though, depending on the case. In your situation, because of your young age, we do have the right to hold you here against your will. I hope it doesn’t come to that though.”

  My mind was spinning and I tried to understand the method and thought process that would possibly make this man hate me so much. I am simply misunderstood. Hetty is as real as he is, and the fact he would make me question and doubt the one friend I had was ludicrous. I would write Hetty once more and when she replied I would prove to him that she was as real as the ground we walked on. I was able to calm myself down now that I had a plan. I would easily prove him wrong and then he would see that my parents lied. He would then be more able to help me figure out why they despised me and wanted me out of their lives.

  “Iona, Iona, I am talking to you…” he said, interrupting my train of thought.

  “I’m sorry, what? I was just thinking.”

  “Yes, you were very far away there for a moment. Might I ask what you were thinking about?”

  “I will write to Hetty today, when she writes back you will see that you have been tricked. As for Rose Mary, she is one of your patients. She resides on my hallway. If you don’t believe me ask Emily.”

  “I have. I am sorry, Iona, but she doesn’t exist. You talk to her as if she does, I have seen this with my own two eyes upon observing you from a distance. You converse as if she were right beside you. You laugh with her and go into deep conversations with her, you choose her for your companion on theater nights and walks to the lake. However, she is not real anywhere but in your mind.”

  “This is absurd. I would like to go to my room.” I pushed out my chair, not believing a word of this nonsense, and stood up to leave. I couldn’t handle any more of this and I didn’t want to become demonstrative. It was no wonder why the people here stayed. They were told lies and forced to admit to them in order to leave.

  “It’s a lot to take in. Please let me know if you need to see me again before tomorrow’s appointment. Until then, try to stop counting and just see what happens?”

  The doctor suddenly looked older. There was a look of pain in his eyes as if he disliked tormenting me. Yet it didn’t stop him from filling me with his lies. I didn’t thank him, or meet Emily’s gaze when she arrived to escort me back to the third ward. I stoppe
d talking and just walked with my head down, eyes cast to the ground below my feet. I counted the paces back to my room. I lay curled up on my bed and thought of these supposed delusions. I have talked to Hetty. I have held fast to her hand. I have supplied food for her family, and helped her clean. She is real and so is Rose Mary. I rather wished Cat wasn’t but unfortunately I have felt her too and she is not only real but a heartless, troubled girl.

  With each passing appointment I had with Dr. William Macy, I grew more upset and unruly. His words, not mine. I did in fact try to stop counting but grew agitated and it showed. He was concerned I was becoming a disciplinary problem and offered help in the form of a talking cure that I refused. He also offered an opiate or sedative but I told him no. It was very clear which patients were on these medications because they spent most of their time in a daze. I didn’t want to be comatose and unkempt like they were. One young man’s state really bothered me, I saw him numerous times when walking across the property. This man was filthy and while he always looked to be yelling, but no sound came from his mouth. His eyes held fear like he was trapped and unable to find any control. Like Mary Rote, who was tied up and left naked all day, every day, for ten years, who had no control, and that was one thing I refused to give up.

  “The medicine will help you sleep, Iona, and it will give you some comfort so that you can acknowledge your delusions and deal with them.”

  “No. It will take away my humanity, my very soul in every way. I refuse to have any shots administered. I refuse.” I crossed arms across my chest and stuck out my chin. I would hatch an escape plan before I allowed anyone near me with a needle.

  “As an alternative I would be willing to try hydrotherapy. It’s very relaxing and only involves submerging ninety-seven percent of your body in water that is body temperature. I run a tight ship here, Iona, I rarely give patients an option. I need to keep all of my patients safe, and if I think your temper puts any of them at risk I will act. Now, having said that, I advise you strongly to have Emily schedule your first bath for today.”

  “Emily, what are the baths like?” I asked on the way back to the ward, I tried not to count but the need to was so compelling we had to go back to the doctor’s office so I could start fresh.

  “The patients enjoy them and find them very relaxing. Water is known to be a healer so when the body is submerged for long periods of time, followed by cocooning, it has a calming effect.” She talked while I counted.

  “I am supposed to have you take me there,” I stopped and replied, remembering what pace I was on, then continued.

  When we arrived at the hydrotherapy station later that afternoon, (three hundred and nineteen paces) I was surprised to find I was not alone, but in a room with six tubs. Naked women of all ages stood around me waiting for fresh water to fill their bath to the correct temperature. Modesty was not evident as women with sagging breasts, sunken bellies, and flappy arms stood without embarrassment among the others. For me, waiting for our tubs to fill, while stark naked, would be the worst part of the treatment. Thermometers were attached to each tub and monitored throughout the session so that the water was kept at body temperature. The patients were submerged and covered with sheets that were draped over them before being submerged as well. Then the lights were turned off and everyone relaxed.

  I looked at the fellow patients around me, they all had pleasant expressions on their faces and closed eyes. I wondered if they peed in the tubs. I shut my eyelids and found my muscles did relax a bit and some of the pressure came off my chest. Perhaps I did feel slightly more like myself. Rose Mary entered the room and was appointed the tub next to mine. She gave me a simple smile and sank into her tub like she had done this before.

  I felt my heart break for a moment upon seeing Rose Mary, she was as real to me as this tub, but what if she was a delusion? If that were true, how would I ever determine what was real in the future? Confusion wrapped itself around me, clouding my very existence.

  I closed my eyes and eventually was led from the tub to a wrapping station. A nurse enveloped me in dry warm towels after two hours of soaking. One towel was wrapped around my hair and the other tight around my slim body. Then I was led to an adjoining room where I stayed for another hour. Finally I was allowed back to my room. I was bored to tears, but at least I was done with treatment for the day.

  By the end of the week, Dr. Macy had backed off his plan to give me sedatives. I had yet to agree I had a problem that required them, but acknowledged the hydrotherapy as being helpful. I had not heard back from Hetty or my father as of yet, but that meant very little. Hetty was most likely working overtime now that my mother was so close to her due date.

  I would hatch a plan to get myself out of this place. No one here understood me or wanted to help me in a way that I thought was effective. They would rather appease me, keep me comfortable and manageable. I needed to start hording food so that I had enough to get me by while I traveled. I would not go home. I never liked Ithaca much anyway, I could settle in Waterloo, Syracuse, or even Rochester. I was smart, the doctor agreed, and felt certain I could get a job as a switchboard operator, or as an artist, or maybe I could even just hunt and sell my catches to local butchers and restaurants. The possibilities were limitless.

  That night at dinner I stuffed two extra rolls up my sleeves. In the morning I stole two hard-boiled eggs. At each meal I left the table with something else for my food stores. I kept the food in my wardrobe, tucked inside my hat. The weather was cold now that it was November, and that brought about the realization that if I were going to run, it had better be soon so that I didn’t get caught up in the snow. I could steal a canoe and paddle across the lake. I would have to tell a lie of omission when I applied for work. No one was to know that I spent time at Willard, for I would never be hired then.

  I was all set to sneak out of my room, Rose Mary found me a bobby pin that I could use to pick my lock. They began locking my door some time last week when I became less manageable. Once the lights were out I inserted the pin into the doorknob. I got it opened without too much effort and made my way down the darkened hallway. I had my hat stuffed full to the brim with food and my pillowcase held my clothing.

  I crept down the third ward successfully as it wasn’t guarded at night. It was the second and first wards that would be more problematic. Patients’ moans echoed through the second ward, guards rolled their eyes and ignored the ruckus. I walked fifteen paces before ducking into the bathroom to catch my breath. This was nerve wracking and I missed a count because I was so preoccupied. I felt compelled to go back to my room and begin again but forced myself to stay put. I peered around the doorway and when I found the coast to be clear I made my way further down the ward and landed in the stairwell. I rested against the cool cinder blocks for a moment, then made a run for it through the stench-filled first ward that had two guards who were luckily occupied by patients.

  I had done it. I managed to get all the way outside. I didn’t know the building had night guards and one of them saw me immediately. I was grabbed swiftly and catapulted against the wall. My belongings were confiscated and I was turned in to the attending physician. I was surprised the attending was a woman. She had a degree in gynecology she told me when I asked. She was tired and in no mood to poke through my past, she simply marched me back to my ward and alerted the entire staff that I had tried to run. Now my chances were nil. In the morning there would be consequences, so I might as well sleep a little.

  I was given no choice in the morning when two armed guards came to my room. I was presented to Dr. Macy who shook his head when he saw me.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Iona. Now I have no other option, and nor do you. You are being suppressed.” He said.

  I was led to a room with a centralized tranquilizing chair. The chair had a wooden allotment where my head was to be placed. The allotment ensured that my head would remain still during my treatment. Similarly, my arms were buckled into rests that adjoined the chair
. Bile rose in my throat as I felt the sting of a sharp needle jab its way into my arm muscle. Then, I felt drowsy and carefree all at once. I must have been carried back to my room for when I woke I was tucked into my bed, shoes traded in for slippers and pajamas on.

  Emily peeked into my room half past noon and brought with her a tray of food. There was an apple and some toast that was buttered and spread with strawberry preserves.

  “Do you think you can eat?” Emily asked and I sensed her empathy.

  “What happened to me?” I asked. I remembered almost nothing.

  “You tried to run, and made it outside too, but then the night guards caught you. You were subdued this morning at one a.m. You are scheduled for another shot after lunch so I suggest you eat or you will have a stomach ache.”

  “Emily,” I cried, “help me.” My surroundings grew hazy with fog.

  Chapter Five

  Fatty Patty

  When I woke once more it was sometime during the middle of the night. The ward was quiet and stillness surrounded me. My head spun and ached and I felt nauseous. Suddenly, I had a feeling I wasn’t in my normal room. In fact, I wasn’t. I crept out of bed towards the door and opened it slightly. I was on the second ward. I should have known by the foul stench of body odor that permeated the walls. Patients were more disturbed down here and less likely to care about their personal hygiene.