Patient: Crew (The Crew Book 1)

by Hannah Kaplan

  “These writings belong to the world. These are not her personal thoughts they are prophesy the same as your writings. It’s not for you it’s for us.”

  “All that matters to me is my own well being. I’m no different from anyone else. We’re all selfish at our base. No one fights for me, and I fight for no one.”

  “Who filled your head with that bullshit?” he asked. “If you’d read what you’ve written you’d know the truth. Hell, book one is all about the parts of the whole, the pipe and the vessel. We are nothing without the other, and I’ll tell you something else—we are not selfish at heart.”

  “I don’t write those things I take dictation. Marla and Tim both told me it’s better to disconnect from it. They warned me about people like you. The crazies that look at this like some sort of religious awakening. God isn’t talking to you anymore than he talks to me. You’re acting like one of the crazies.”

  “Disconnecting does not negate its existence. Listen to this and if you think I’m reading between the lines or making something out of nothing then I’ll concede, and we won’t talk about it again.” He looked through a box of Momma’s notebooks until he found the one he wanted.

  “And you’ll go back to Abilene?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “This one is dated July twenty six, nineteen seventy nine. That’s before you were born, right?”

  “You’re right.”

  “She writes: I had a dream last night. I dreamt that I was inside the house baking cookies. The sun was pouring inside through the windows making the wood glisten. I was happy, singing and right there on the table in the living room was a little blonde headed baby. I know it was a girl because she looked pink and precious. I walked over to the little baby girl, and she started talking to me as if she were an adult. She said to me, “My name is Shanna and you’re my Momma.” That was all there was to it. Then I woke up.” He closed the notebook and placed it gently in the box. “Did she put a date on everything she wrote?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “You need to read these,” he said. “Everyone needs to read these.”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Just no.”

  Kevin stood up and did something I hadn’t expected. He hugged me long and hard, held me close, patted my head and then finally let my body loose, but continued to hold my hands. He then took my hands and gently kissed them one at a time. “Trust me,” he pleaded. “I know you’re confused, and you don’t know what to do but you can trust me. Whatever choices you make” he said putting my hands on his heart, “I won’t disappoint.”

  “What’s up with you and all this loyalty crap? You don’t know me. I don’t know you. For future reference I don’t do hugs,” I said. I took a couple of steps back and regained control of my hands. “I don’t have choices, never have.”

  “Who told you that? Tim and Marla?” he asked.

  “No one had to tell me that. I learned it on my own. Don’t talk shit about them. You don’t even know them. They are good people. Without Marla I would be locked in an institution.”

  “You always have a choice.” As he spoke the crew came forward proving him wrong.

  “What choice do I have now?” I went in the bedroom and sat on the bed with pads and pens and began writing—this was not a choice. There was no need or time to hide it from Kevin. I was aware of my actions and didn’t allow myself to escape. I could hear the choir of voices in my head as I watched my hands move with swift precision. Every word was written with my hands controlled by the crew. I could feel Kevin hovering over me and breathing on my shoulder. His face was inches from mine. I dropped the left pen, and my hand flew to his face stopping within an inch of hitting him. He moved back and only then did I pick up the pen and continue writing. As the session ended I heard a faint rapping at the front door. I turned to look at Kevin who was standing a safe distance behind me.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I asked. “You look sick.”

  “I think its Jim. He’s outside knocking has been for the last ten minutes.”

  “Why didn’t you answer the door?”

  “I’m a big black man answering his girlfriend’s door and he’s a big strong cowboy looking for something to hog tie.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Should I hide in the closet?” he asked. “This guy is relentless. He walked around the house and knocked on the back door and went back around to the front. I got a glimpse of him, and he’s not happy.” I laughed at the thought of Kevin nervously crouching as Jim made his way around the house, and then at the thought of him trying to shove his huge body into the small closet.

  “No I don’t think you’d fit. Just sit here and wait for me and don’t read these.” I picked up the notebooks, shoved them under the mattress and went to answer the door. Jim stood on the porch and stared at me. Jima ran past me into the house.

  “Jesus H. Christ we’ve been banging on that door forever. Where you been?” Jima asked.

  Jim took his glare off me and came inside. “You left everything in quite a mire.”

  “I was sleeping. It’s been a very stressful day. I don’t believe I did anything to cause a stir. I simply made a suggestion to an old friend.”

  “You’re a piece of work you know that? You’ve got a chip on your shoulder, and you’ll do anything to get someone to knock it off, anything to start trouble and make them think you’re a,” he said, catching himself before he said too much.

  “What reason do you have to be mad at me?” I asked and turned to look at Jima. She wouldn’t take her eyes off the floor. “It was a suggestion. I read a medical article about her condition. I was just trying to help, to be friendly, like you wanted me to be. What happened when I left?”

  “Mr. Garner came barreling into the house and grabbed Mrs. Garner’s hand.” Jima lowered her voice. “He said, come on we’re going to Sweetwater and get you a sonogram. That’s when Gramma Pilly sent me to my room, that’s all I know.” She gave me a grateful smile and wink.

  “What happened next?” I asked.

  “The short story is—Aunt Picky followed them outside and got into it with Bradley,” Jim said. “Let’s just say your name was thrown around a few times and everyone inside heard it although they pretended not to.” They were pretending not to hear it for Jim’s sake. I’d embarrassed him and that’s why he was angry.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Seems like you’re saying that often these days,” Jim said.

  Jima was roaming through the house from the living room to the kitchen and then the bathroom and back into the living room. “Who’s visiting you?” she asked.

  “No one,” I lied.

  “There’s two of everything,” she said. “Two plates on the floor, two glasses and two more plates in the sink, and two forks. In the bathroom, there’s a pair of boy socks on the floor and a razor left on the sink just like Dad does after he shaves.”

  “Aren’t you the junior detective,” I said. Jim was looking at me with suspicious eyes. “Actually I ate an early breakfast. I shaved my legs at the bathroom sink and rushed to your house, after the cake was baked. When I got home I was hungry so I had lunch and took a nap. I’ve been in a rush most of day and haven’t had a chance to pick up after myself.” Jima knew I was lying but Jim didn’t. The only thing on his mind was what to do with me. I was causing trouble for him, and now he had become the star in the latest gossip saga.

  “We can’t stay,” Jim walked to the door. “Momma wanted me to check on you and make sure you were ok. I see you are. She also wanted you to come by for supper tomorrow night after the funeral. She said you wouldn’t need to come to the burial but to come by for supper.”

  “Is that what you want?” I asked.

  “It’s what I want,” Jima said. Jim was silent.

  “Really it’s ok if you’d rather I stayed away. I’d understand.”

  “No,” he said. “I want you to come over. I don’
t want any tension. I want a pleasant family meal with them, and you. All I ask is for is a little peace and harmony.”

  “I’ll stay clear of the cemetery and be there for supper, and I’ll be on my best behavior.” Jima jumped for joy while clapping her hands and Jim smiled. I couldn’t bare the thought of leaving them and wouldn’t let myself think about it—not yet at least—but I knew the time would come when (again) I’d have no other choice.

  Jim and Jima left, and I went back to the bedroom to open the door for Kevin.

  “So?” he asked.

  “What?” I asked.

  “What did you do at their house? What were they talking about?”

  “Jima has a crew book and talked me into thinking Helen, an old friend, was pregnant. Doc—who is older than God—gave her a pregnancy test and it was negative. They scheduled a surgery to remove what they think is a tumor, but because of what the book says Jima thinks they’ll inadvertently kill the baby when they cut her open. I fell right into the mob mentality with Jima and that stupid book. How she got her hands on it I don’t know, but I do know she shouldn’t be reading that junk.” I realized I was ranting and throwing stuff around in a failed attempt to neaten. “You need to get out of my sight for a while. I need to think and I can’t think with all of you people around me.”

  Kevin left without another word. I wondered where he’d go without having a car, but I didn’t care enough to find out. I didn’t care about anything at that moment. I was happy to have enough space to think about my next move.

  12.

  The hour I had to myself was not enough time for an inner debate. I made swift firm decisions. My desire was to leave (this time) with dignity. First, I’d close my account and secure the cash. Next, I’d go to Jim’s house for dinner and smooth things over between him and his family. I’d be a quiet and perfect angel. I would talk to Jim about the book Jima was hiding, it was the right thing to do. I still hadn’t heard a word from Tim, but I’d only wait a week longer for him or Marla to contact me, and I would keep Kevin around for maybe a night or two longer.

  “The sick hell swells from desired life,” Kevin said when I opened the front door. “You warned him about the baby because you know it’s true.” Kevin was standing against a tree in front of the house reading from the book.

  “Do you take that thing everywhere you go?” I asked. “You’re one of the crazies Kevin.”

  “What are you going to do when Helen finds out you’re right? When she finds out she is pregnant. They’ll come looking for you.”

  “Probably,” I said.

  “You’re not waiting around for that to happen you’re making plans to leave. I can see it in your eyes. You’re running.”

  “It’s none of your concern,” I said.

  “Like hell it isn’t. I’m the dark warrior protector of the flower child—that’s you—where do you plan on going? You can’t go at this alone. You need help. You need me.”

  “It’s none of your concern,” I said again. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  We pulled together a chicken salad on toast. It tasted wonderful with a big glass of iced tea. Kevin told me about life with his mother in Abilene and his job at the computer shop.

  “You’ve been here a couple of days, do you need to contact her or your job? Do you need a change of clothes?” I asked.

  “I’m good. You have a huge supply of toothpaste and shampoo, and I always have a change of clothes in my pack,” he said.

  “You’re a good boy scout,” I said.

  “You could say that. Tell me about Jim.”

  “There’s not much to tell. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

  “It’s more than a friendship,” Kevin said.

  “It can’t be more,” I said and took the dishes to the sink.

  I cleaned the kitchen while Kevin turned on the news. Within seconds of turning the set on he was opening the front door to watch a commotion outside. “Shanna you better come see this,” he said.

  I heard what sounded like animals growling. As I got closer I could see that Jim was on the ground struggling with a man. When they’d scrambled to their feet, Jim was holding a camera and the man’s suit collar. The man took one look at me and ran, ripping off his collar where Jim had held it. Jim turned to Kevin who backed his way into the house. I stood between Jim and the doorway not letting him enter until I’d had a chance to explain.

  “Who was that man?” I asked.

  “Who is that man?” Jim asked.

  “Kevin come out here please,” I kept my eyes on Jim and could feel the tension rise as he saw Kevin walking to the door. “Kevin this is Jim. Jim this Kevin.”

  “My friends call me Fat Boy,” Kevin said and extended his hand.

  “My friends call me dangerous,” Jim said, keeping his fists up and ready for battle.

  “Kevin is a friend of mine from Dallas,” I said.

  “A friend?” Jim asked. Kevin backed up, Jim’s breathing became heavy.

  “Yes a friend,” I said. “Who was that man? Where’s Jima?”

  “Same guy that was on the street at my house. He’s following you and taking pictures,” Jim said and handed me the camera.

  “You smashed it good. Lets check the card.” Kevin took the camera and pulled out a small digital card from the base and inserted it into the computer slot.

  “Where’s Jima?” I asked.

  “She’s home. We passed the picture man’s car on the road. I doubled back after taking her home and found him looking in the front windows.”

  “Look what we have here,” Kevin said. We watched as he scrolled through the pictures. The series of pictures began when Jim was helping me move out of Mrs. Black’s house in town. The last picture was of me coming home from Jim’s house earlier that evening. There were pictures of Jim and Jima at the Dry Goods, and one of Picky and Pilly standing outside their house. There was a picture of Kevin leaning against the tree a few hours earlier.

  “How many are there?” I asked Kevin.

  “Hundred and twenty six,” he said and gave me a look of understanding that Jim quickly caught.

  “Who’s watching you?” Jim asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “You don’t know? Then who does?” Jim asked. “Does Kevin here know because he sure acts like he knows something?”

  “I know nothing. Nothing at all,” Kevin said.

  “Jim why don’t you meet me outside. Give me a second and I’ll be right out,” I said.

  “I’m fine right here,” he said never taking his eyes off Kevin.

  “Go outside,” I insisted. “Leave the door open if it makes you feel better.” Jim begrudgingly left, and stood just outside the open front door.

  “It’ll be ok,” I whispered. “It has to be Tim looking for me I’m sure it is. He doesn’t know about this house. He doesn’t know I’ve moved. It’s a good sign that he’s alive and looking for me. He’ll call soon.” I had a fleeting thought that Tim and Marla could have turned me over to the CIA, but quickly shoved it aside. If their intentions were to sell me out they would have done it during the ten years I was with them.

  “We have to talk about the last session,” Kevin said. “It’s urgent.”

  I went outside to join Jim knowing I would need to be extremely careful with my words. He wanted commitment and honesty. I couldn’t give him either. He leaned against his truck with his arms crossed and head down. I stood in front of him.

  “We were happy for a few weeks,” he said.

  “We were,” I said. “I take the blame.

  “I’m not finished.” He raised his head, looked at me and smiled. Not a big smile, not a happy smile, but a crooked little smile of concession. “I’ve done everything I know to help you. I plowed, sowed, and treated this land as if it were my own. I’ve had to explain every strange thing that happens around you to the people in town just to keep them at bay. Everyone, even my own family has been tellin
g me to stay away from you. I went against every last one of them, and I’m going to tell you why.” He slid his boot next to my sneakered foot. “You turned the switch on in my heart when we were ten and you beat up Bradley for pushing me off the slide. Do you remember that?”

  “I remember. He’s always been a little bastard,” I laughed.

  “Since that moment, it was never you without me. It's always us. It always has been. Even when you left I knew you’d be back, knew you would come home to me. You’ve been the only thing I’ve done that’s right. I’m not letting you go again.” His words made my heart ache. I wasn’t worthy of him. I should have stopped him from saying those words to me. It was easier to not hear those words. “I’m an open book, no skeletons no past and not much of a future. You, on the other hand are one big unknown. I’m not getting the full story here. Today, I beat up a man I don’t even know for taking pictures of you, and then I meet a rather large black man named Kevin who looks more like a bodyguard than a friend. What is it you’re hiding from me?”

  I didn’t speak. Even if I knew where to start I wouldn’t know when to stop. Jim knowing anything now would be of no good to him or me. It would only serve to put him and Jima in harms way. I shrugged my shoulders and kept my mouth shut.

  “You think on it tonight, and then tomorrow you come on over the house for supper. After that we’re going to have a talk and I’m going to get some answers to my questions,” he said and got in his truck. “Honest answers. Come here,” he said and leaned through the window to kiss my forehead. “I love you.” I watched as he turned the truck onto the road. Disconnect, I told myself as I went inside.

  The TV was blaring, and Kevin was standing inches from the screen. The session notebooks were on the floor at his feet. I could hear the reporter state with a grim tone that the confirmed dead are now two hundred and forty. “What’s happened?” I asked.

  “It’s started. A bomb at an elementary school,” he said.

  “What’s started?”