"She's talking!" a melee of voices rose together It looked like some of the staff would pass right out. Others were
staring.
"Duffino, you're talking!" I yelled myself.
Two reporters moved in closer, fast.
"Stay away from the patient," Dr. Whitney was commanding.
With whatever strength I had remaining, I pulled myself out of the arms of the orderlies and yanked myself over to her bedpost.
"You're talking, Duffino."
Duffino pushed her face roughly in the face of the reporter who was closest. "Not another word unless you let Charlotte go."
"Not another word unless Charlotte goes," the reporter repeated as he wrote it verbatim. "Headline!"
He looked at me then.
I looked right back at him. "I never had a public trial," I said definitively. "Write that down too."
"Headline," he quipped back.
"I want to have a public trial."
"What else?"
"Now Duffino will tell you exactly what happened. She didn't do it. I'm convinced. After her trial, and after my trial, I want us both to be let free together."
"Headline, headline!"
An enormous wave of exhaustion rose over me. It was growing harder and harder to speak. "I want us both to start again," I barely said, as all grew dark around me.
The last thing I heard was, "Charlotte's fainting," as I slowly slid, and crumpled on the ground.
Chapter Twenty Two
The very next day, by order of the court, I was quickly sent back up from Insulin. This time I knew I would never go back down. Reporters were trailing this case closely. I walked through the door to my room, a whole person. Tara accompanied me. As we went upstairs she told me Duffino was upstairs as well.
I went to my room and rested for awhile. Then it was evening again, like a hundred other evenings and like a hundred more to come. I hadn't been to dinner for a few night, since Insulin.
Freddy rushed right over before I got to the dining room. "Charlotte, my Charlotte," he said. "How are you feeling?"
"Hello Freddy," I replied.
"Did you miss me, Charlotte?" he leaned much closer. "Did you find somebody else?"
"I thought of nothing," I replied.
He looked thoroughly saddened. Poor Freddy. How I hated myself for pitying him.
"Will you still marry me?" he questioned.
"Of course not Freddy. I'm not the marrying kind."
He looked at me, astonished. "Why? What have I done?"
"Leave me alone, sweetheart," I whispered. "Why talk about marrying? It's hard enough being human."
"You're just saying bad things because you don't feel
yourself," he blabbered. "It's a lover's quarrel. That's all. My mother told me about these things. You're mad because I didn't visit you downstairs. I tried to visit you. Really, I did. I promise I did."
Then I saw Dr. Farbin glance over at us. I looked back at him in a friendly manner and he came by. I heard he was glad I'd been released from Insulin.
"Something wrong, Freddy?" Dr. Farbin said.
"She won't marry me," Freddy cried out. Others started smiling. "She doesn't love me anymore."
"She never loved you, Freddy," Dr. Farbin said, in measured tones. His words rung in my ears. "She's helping you now, by telling the truth."
Freddy started squinting at Dr. Farbin. "The truth, the truth," he mimicked like a parrot.
"I never said I didn't love him," I interrupted. "I said it's hard enough being human. Before you think of marriage Freddy, first think of becoming real."
I turned from both of them and walked to the far window. To my surprise, Dr. Farbin followed me there.
"You did the kind thing, Charlotte," he said softly. Dr. Farbin was demanding a connection.
"I was trying to be helpful," I said.
Even as I said it, it felt peculiar. Helpful? Another odd phrase. All these words filled with promises. Be kind, be helpful
. . .what did these endless words and directives amount to anyway?
"There are tremendous changes coming for you, Charlotte," Dr. Farbin said gently to me.
"I know."
"I am happy, but also frightened for you."
I was surprised. "Thank you."
"I don't know if you can handle it."
"I can handle it, Farbin," I said without a second's pause.
"I hope so," he continued. "You know, Duffino started speaking to reporters."
I was glad.
"She's been brought up from Insulin, and will be soon taken in an ambulance to the courthouse."
"Good, good," I said loudly.
"Charlotte."
"What?
"You, too! It's actually possible you're going too. They're holding a conference about you this evening. During the dinner hour."
"About me?" My world started spinning, dancing, laughing.
"I came to inform you."
His words entered my body like missiles of hope.
"They don't think that Duffino will speak without you. I think the authorities want you to go, too."
I bit my lip hard, so as not to start screaming.
"In the ambulance with Duffino?"
"Exactly. The papers said she spoke not because of the Insulin Therapy, but because of you."
I flushed. "It was the angels, they did it. They came to our rescue."
"Don't talk that way now. It's a sensitive time. Dr. Ethan has been fired."
Sorrow for him engulfed me.
"His behavior was completely out of order. He won't be brought up on charges, however. He's returning to his home town.
He says he's planning to write a thorough paper, give talks about his own theories."
I sighed.
"Before you have dinner, go to your room, prepare your belongings. "
"Dr. Farbin, tell me, will I finally have my trial?"
"You've served your time Charlotte." Dr. Farbin's words tripped over one another.
"I want a fair trial, though."
"Consider you've had it. Now all is well. Go back to your room. Prepare to go."
Then he turned quickly and walked out of the dayroom, to the conference room down the hall.
I couldn't go straight back to my room. Every part of my body was shaking inside. I walked slowly to the huge, glass windows and looked out at the hills that spread for miles. They were surrounded by mountains rising in the distance. For a long time I let my gaze wander, and dwell upon nothing at all.
A few minutes later I heard footsteps behind me.
"Charlotte?" It was Lanny.
"Yes?"
"Welcome back."
"Thank you."
"There are rumors about you." His eyes narrowed.
"Lanny, I love you."
He jumped back. "Don't talk like that to someone like me."
"I'll always love you, wherever I go."
"Go?" he cried plaintively.
"You'll find your move, Lanny. You'll break the code."
"You're leaving?"
"I hope so."
He grinned, tucked his nose down on his mouth, turned and said, "The code is broken. I know my next move." Then he scuttled away without saying what it was.
I had to go back to my room and get ready. I had to pack the few belongings I had. Talk would rise up like a tidal wave. Some would say it was me who had cured her. I had always wanted to be the one to cure her. Now I saw how foolish I had been. Cures happened when they had to, in the most peculiar ways. Different people were needed for different parts. Who was the one who cured us all, anyway? How could I have ever imagined it was me?
* * * * *
As I was in my room packing, someone knocked on the door. I
opened it. To my surprise, it was Tara.
"Come in," I offered.
"No. I've only come for a second to tell you something. By order of the court Duffino's family's here for a visit with her. They'll all be meeting in a few minut
es in the guest room.
A slow chill went through my body.
"Do you want to see their visit?" Tara whispered.
I could only nod dumbly. Please, my heart said.
"I'll take you to the side alcove to watch it," she offered. "Nobody will know you're there. I know how much she means to you. Then you can go back to your room and finish up."
We hurried together to the small alcove in the corner of the meeting room. A comfortable couch, upholstered with huge, pink flowers, was tucked in the corner. I promptly sat down and watched.
In a few minutes Duffino's entire family walked into the guest room. They all stood together, lined up in a single row, her brother standing at the end. His face was flushed from the cold, and he had a wool scarf wrapped around his neck. His head was bent downwards, and his eyes darted around a lot.
Angela, a slim, blonde girl with a strong face, stood in a cloth coat, holding some packages, the muscles in her cheek working furiously. She was holding the hand of her mother, a small woman, all dressed in black, with enormous blue eyes that were the loneliest eyes I'd ever seen.
The father was standing beside her. He wore a tweed coat and
like the sister, had his arms full of gifts. His left eye twitched, giving him away. Aside from that, he stood resolutely, determined to see his daughter again.
They all stood there, looking straight in front of them, as if they'd been caught in a family album. They had. I'd caught them. This would stay with me wherever I went.
Duffino, who had been notified her family was here, came out of the side door. She looked paler than I remember, and walked haltingly. One by one, they burst into tears.
First it was her mother who began to sob. Then, her father reached towards her. Angela stood there, big tears rolling down her bewildered face. The brother hid his face from her, but his shoulders were trembling fast.
Duffino reached her hands out to them, and one by one they came towards her. Nobody saw me in the shadows, watching everything, remembering it all.
After a long embrace, Angela stepped back and handed Duffino a large package, wrapped in blue and gold. Duffino took it tentatively.
"Open it," Angela spoke gently.
Duffino didn't move.
"It's for you. From me."
Duffino's mother started sobbing again, her small frame trembling like a leaf in the wind.
Duffino unwrapped the package slowly, careful not to tear even a piece of the wrapping. She took out a beautiful, orange, wool dress with long sleeves and a slightly scooped neck.
I gasped. I'd never seen a dress like that in my entire life,
except in a magazine in the dayroom.
Duffino lifted it out of the box and held it up to her.
"Beautiful," her father mumbled, stamping his foot on the ground as he spoke.
"I found it in the shop around the corner," Angela said. "I thought it was pretty, and it reminded me of you. Or, at least, how I remembered you."
Tears started falling down Duffino's face. It was the first time I'd actually seen her cry. It startled me. They say once tears start to fall in an inmate, healing is on the way.
"There wasn't a day that passed that I didn't think of you," Angela continued quickly. "I kept your picture on my bureau because you always were very important to me."
Duffino looked at Angela sadly.
"Do you remember me, too?"
She just looked at her.
"Do you like the dress?" Angela moved closer.
Duffino held it up against herself.
"I hope you like it."
"I do," Duffino said very softly.
Her mother clasped both hands together when she heard her daughter speak.
The door opened and Dr. Whitney entered the room with orderlies and reporters.
"How do you do," he said, holding his hand out to her family. Then he walked closer to Duffino. "What a beautiful dress," he said.
"Step back. Let's get a picture!" It was Moe. He'd barged his way over, with another guy at his side, scribbling furiously on a pad.
The entire group stepped back, and the camera flashed uncontrollably.
"Now, we'll go to the dayroom," Dr. Whitney went on. "We're going to take pictures in every room and give your family a regular tour."
All together the group left for the dayroom, never once realizing I was there all the time, hiding, and watching, and offering prayers.
* * * * *
After they left, I returned to my room, put all my things in my duffle bag quickly, took it with me, and went to the dayroom
to wait. About half an hour had gone by. I came in and sat down at the big picture window. It was Sunday, and on weekends the routines were different. There were no therapy sessions and the patients were left mostly to themselves.
I held my duffle bag tighter on my lap. Dr. Farbin was in conference this very minute, speaking about me, planning my freedom, engineering details. What choice did they have now, any of the staff? The authorities wanted me out!
As I sat waiting, the clock in the main hall chimed out the hour, and a deep shiver crept over my heart.
A few minutes later Dr. Farbin appeared through the main doors into the room, and came right over to me.
"Charlotte."
"I'm going too?"
"Yes."
"Yes?" I thought so, I knew so, and yet my head hung down, and I started to cry.
"When you go," Dr. Farbin was almost whispering, "be careful about the things you say." It was almost as if he were actually happy for me, getting away.
I looked at him carefully, as he tossed his hair back off his forehead and continued, "If you want to stay out, only stick to the facts about Duffino. Don't share with anyone the theories you've developed here over the years."
I smiled.
"A major characteristic of mental illness is that patients take a simple event and blow it out of all proportion. Don't do that. I'm on your side, Charlotte. Listen to me." He straightened his shoulders and looked right at me. "Patients take simple statements to imply things never intended at all. Be very mindful. Speak simply, and never about the nature of faith."
"Faith?" I echoed.
He pulled out a cigarette, lit up, and took deep draw. Then he blew the smoke out much too fast.
"That's what you're always talking about here," he went on. "It won't go over. Cut it out."
"I wasn't aware of it."
"Well, I'm warning you." He blew smoke out faster. "When you go to the courtroom, the authorities will be on watch to ascertain how stable you are. Or else your testimony will mean nothing. Of course," he said leaning back, letting go," very few of us are stable Charlotte. The authorities don't realize that."
He smiled peculiarly and I saw at that moment that his time at Bingham had deeply affected Dr. Farbin as well.
"I'll do my best, Dr. Farbin," I vowed.
"Yes, Charlotte," he smiled wanly, "I know you will."
I wanted to go, but he didn't let me. He wanted me sitting there with him. He blew the cigarette smoke in circles that curled around my head like a halo. Then he rose from his seat and lifted his pallid face towards me.
"Since you're leaving," he went on," I might as well say, this is one of the saddest autumns I can remember."
I feared for him as he started talking.
"And I remember a lot of autumns, one more bitter than another." He was babbling to himself, but I was there, listening, to every word. "Autumn is a funny time, Charlotte. The meaning of autumn is that everything changes. Isn't that true?"
I felt so helpless beside his sadness.
He sensed it and seemed to buck up.
"It's my duty to take you to the conference room now."
I stood up beside him and grabbed my duffle bag, completely ready to go.
"It's hard to lose you, Charlotte," he said kindly.
I had no idea why he felt that.
"You're smart, you're funny," then he looked at me solemnly, "I'd
hoped some day we could know each other."
I grabbed my duffle bag tighter.
"I am going to miss you," he said sorrowfully.
"Miss me?"
"Is that a crime?"
"It is not a crime, Doctor Farbin," I said, jarred to my very soul.
He started pacing a little. "I'm not denying this is irregular," he continued. "I'm as surprised as you."
I held my bag tighter.
"I haven't felt anything for a patient for years. I hadn't wanted to either. I turned my attention to my theories. I had this particular insight about mental illness - wrote a paper about it. It was never published. Rejected thirteen times. If you want to, you can read it. I happen to have a copy with me in my room. I'll get it for you to take with you."
"Thank you," I said.
"Believe it or not, this past month, something has changed in me, Charlotte. I respect you. I am not relating to you as a patient, but as the fierce woman you are."
"Fierce woman?" He had lost his mind.
"Charlotte," he was speaking too fast now, "I beg you, don't disappear. Keep in touch. Keep in contact. Sacrifice your aloneness for me."
"I am not alone, Dr. Farbin."
"Sacrifice your aloneness," he cried out.
I cried out as well, "I am one with everything, Dr. Farbin." But he could not really hear me.
My hands were sweating. I wanted to get up and run away. But I remained beside him, like a rock.
"Dr. Farbin, I'm sorry for you," I said gently.
"I thank you for it," he declared. "I will stay here forever and I have no idea why."
"Neither do I," I whispered.
"I belong here," he went on. "This is my home. These inmates are my family."
"Charlotte," he added, "where will you make your home?"
Home. The word was not so painful now. Home.
"I am where I am," I replied quietly, "I am everywhere with everything."
"No," he said methodically.
"I am the trees, the hills, the winter, the summer, the tiny sparrows pecking for food."
"Not exactly."
"I don't know where I came from or where I'm going. But I'm going bravely ahead."
"When you talk like this, I wonder," he said, pausing.
"It is ultimately lonely, ultimately sad," he was murmuring.
A small chill went up and down my spine, like music. These events had rocked Dr. Farbin to the core.
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