by Sue Wallman
It would be hard to go up on the roof with an ice-skating rink next to the security building.
“Lucky you, Mae,” says Mom. “You’ll learn to skate.”
I shiver at the thought of still being here in December. No Ms Ray, Drew, Thet. Or Noah. Maybe not even Will if he can find a way to be discharged.
“What’s up with you?” asks Dad.
“I don’t like to think of it being cold,” I say.
“By the way, I’ve heard that you’ve been spending a lot of time with Noah Tinderman. I think it’s best you avoid him in the future – he’s not a stable influence.”
The hoody. He saw the hoody in my room.
“It’s not a good example to Zach, Ben, Luke and Joanie. Be polite to patients, but don’t get involved. You don’t understand their needs, and you never know what might set back their recovery. You’re also to cut down contact with Thet. I shouldn’t have let you two spend so much time together. She’s leaving. I don’t want any overreactions when that happens. Understood?”
Mom looks across the table at me. There’s worry in her eyes.
“Understood,” I reply quietly.
“Eat up your food,” says Hunter. “The rules have been too lax lately.”
I force the food into my mouth, bit by little bit. I chew and swallow elastic bands and cardboard.
The next morning, I don’t wave to Thet. I refuse to meet Noah’s eye as I walk out of the cafeteria. I have to lie low for a bit. In the office I go through the chemical equations Ms Ray’s set me. I study the geography case histories and write a mock essay comparing two poems. I cram my brain with facts and theories, ideas that are bigger than the Creek, and I block out everything else.
As I walk into the schoolroom to deliver my booklet, I’m shoved in the side by Joanie. “Did you hear? Did you hear?”
“You nearly knocked me over. What?”
Greta’s standing on a chair replacing one of Ms Ray’s posters with a large sheet of paper titled Rules of the Schoolroom. Zach, Ben and Luke walk past us on their way to lunch.
“It’s not that big a deal, Joanie,” says Zach. There’s a sour note to his voice. “I’ll be surprised if Mae’s allowed to go.”
“She’s on full privileges, aren’t you, Mae?” says Ms Ray.
“Just. What’s going on?”
“Ms Jesmond read an announcement,” says Joanie.
Ms Jesmond? Is that what we have to call Greta now?
Joanie squawks, “You and me! We’re going to a trampoline training day tomorrow!”
“It’s for home-school educated girls in the Pattonville area,” calls Greta. “You and Joanie can work on your routine for the next open day.”
“My first trip outside.” Joanie beams.
“Nice,” I say. This is a way of leaving the Creek for the exam. Ms Ray has either found a real event that ties in with the exam or she’s dreamed up a fake one and managed to get it through admin.
“I’ll see if Mick’s free to take you,” says Greta, as she jabs the last thumbtack into the sheet of rules. “Be in the parking lot at nine o’clock.”
“No,” howls Joanie. “Not Mick. I want Ms Ray.”
Joanie, I concede, hasn’t turned out too badly so far. Greta tenses one side of her mouth to show she thinks Joanie’s being difficult, but it probably suits her to have Ms Ray out of the schoolroom for a day.
At lunchtime, I make an effort being civil with Greta because I don’t want anything to jeopardize me leaving the Creek with Ms Ray tomorrow. I listen to her ideas about feeble projects to tie in with booklet topics. I ask questions about her apartment and she describes the bedroom that will be mine when I move to Pattonville. She’s found some wallpaper hand-printed with hummingbirds.
I’m aware of Thet and Noah looking at me. I could get a message to them through Will, but I don’t want Greta to see me talking to him. Since his outburst at the barbecue about Hunter and Karl not letting him go to Austin’s funeral or memorial service, she thinks he’s a bad influence.
I wait until later, after my afternoon exercise, but I can’t find Will anywhere. When I’m certain I’m not on a security camera and I’m not being watched, I ask a patient if he’s seen him, and he tells me Will spends his free time in Larkspur smashing table-tennis balls against a wall. “I gotta go,” he says, “before someone sees us. We’re not allowed to talk to staff kids now. Otherwise we get fined.”
THIRTY-FOUR
Joanie skips ahead of me in her Lycra shorts and vest top. She tells me this is the best day of her life.
Ms Ray is standing by one of the silver Creek cars. “Morning,” she says. “Climb in the back, you two.” She’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and navy trousers. Serious clothes. I’m in loose yoga pants, and a T-shirt with a cartoon on the back of someone bouncing high in the air. The pants have a pocket, and I’ve brought my Dunhill-Namiki pen because I’m hoping the golden dragon will bring me luck.
I wonder what time the exam starts. I’m so nervous my throat has narrowed and I can only manage shallow breaths. Joanie slaps my hand away when I lean across to buckle up her seatbelt. “I can do it myself,” she says, fumbling around for ages until she manages to click it in far enough.
Before I left the apartment I checked the time on the iPad. It was showing half an hour earlier than my Creek watch. Normally the difference is far greater. That must be why the Creek doesn’t like to arrange trips; if one person’s watch has to be altered, everyone’s has to be.
I think of when patients first arrive. How the induction process takes so long, how they often have their first meal in their room. How they’re given a watch but it takes a few hours to “go live”. That must be to allow for them not to notice the time difference. I wonder how much Greta knows, and remember that she’s not allowed to turn up spontaneously from college, but has to schedule her visits with admin. Perhaps her watch takes time to go live too.
Ms Ray leaves the car in front of the gates while she goes into the security building to pick up her cell phone and sign us out. When we drive through the gates, the car moves agonizingly slowly. I don’t feel free until I turn and see the gates have banged shut behind us.
After being awed into silence by the huge fields, Joanie starts an excited commentary. Pointing out trees, cars, buildings. She laughs when she sees a dog in someone’s front yard. She drinks in the sights without feeling cheated that she’s not been allowed to see them before. I feel sorry for her because she’s got that realization to come.
“We’re going to a library first of all, Joanie,” says Ms Ray. She catches my eye in the mirror.
“Where there’ll be trampolines,” says Joanie, kicking her legs into the back of Ms Ray’s seat. I hold her legs still and give her a what-do-you-think-you’re-doing look.
“Not there,” says Ms Ray. “We’ll do some drawing while Mae is busy in another room. We’ll draw trampolines. Then afterwards we’ll go do your routines on some real ones.” While she lowers Joanie’s expectations for the day, I touch the smooth metal door handle. Mick once told me that Creek cars had child-locks so no one could fall out by mistake. Or escape.
There are things about Hummingbird Creek I’ve grown up with and never properly questioned until very recently. The shutters that come down at night and prevent us from seeing outside. Mornings spent away from natural light in the basement. The endless testing before and after exercise. Being cut off from the outside world so everyone has to rely on Creek watches to tell the time. Watches that don’t tell the truth.
I’m not a patient, but I have blood tests every two weeks. Endless questions about how I feel. Health stats taken at every opportunity. Why else would Hunter want me to go to Pattonville College, where he can keep an eye on me, if he’s not collecting data from me? Not data to keep me healthy, but to monitor the effect of the drug. Statistics that Peter, someone from the military, is so interested in. A drug that makes people stronger and fitter, with more stamina. One which has side effects a
nd is dangerous in large amounts. Noah will hopefully smuggle out a vitamin for his sister to analyse. Then what? How, if I ever get any concrete evidence, do I confront Hunter without him covering it up or something bad happening to me?
“How did you manage to sort this?” I say quietly when Ms Ray’s parked the car and we’re waiting for Joanie to unbuckle herself.
“I sent a letter to a friend and asked her to contact the Creek about a trampoline day. I wasn’t sure if it would work out in time.”
“Weren’t you worried about your letter being read?” I ask.
Ms Ray’s forehead creases. “I worded it carefully.”
I think of Will’s black-market operation and about the elaborate code Drew told me he uses in his letters unless he can send messages with patients who leave.
“I’m told your mom often writes letters to an English address but security shreds them,” says Ms Ray. She cringes as I reel from that news. “I shouldn’t have said that, Mae. I’m so sorry. You should be focusing on the exam.” She holds her hand out to Joanie who is about to jump from the car. “Come on, you.”
The exam room is a community hall attached to a library on the edge of Pattonville. The building is shabby and poorly lit. Before I go in, Ms Ray hands me a biro, pencil, ruler and eraser. I show her my golden dragon pen. “I could use this?”
“If you like,” she says. She squeezes my shoulder. “Best of luck.”
Joanie squeezes my hand. “I hope it doesn’t hurt,” she says. She must think I’m having some sort of medical exam.
About fifteen of us file in to the room and sit at single desks, in rows. A strict-looking woman with greyish cropped hair hands out papers.
“You may turn your papers over,” says the woman. She writes the end time on the board at the front. The room comes alive with movement and I’m all panic. The first questions are math and the numbers jiggle. I try to calm myself.
Write your name at the top of the paper. Take a breath.
I tunnel my hands round the corner of my eyes for a moment, blocking off everyone. I slow-motion my brain so that I work through each step and move steadily through the questions. Panic flares again when I catch sight of the page the person diagonally opposite me is on.
Ignore them.
The English questions are more enjoyable. My hand moves across the paper writing words that seem to flow from my brain down my arm.
“Mae Ballard?” The grey-haired woman is leaning over my desk. “Please can you step outside for a moment.”
Have I done something wrong?
My chair makes a noise as I push it back with my legs and everyone turns and glares. Ms Ray is in the doorway. Her face is grey, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up above the elbow. Joanie, beside her, stares at the rows of desks.
“Mae, I’m sorry,” says Ms Ray and the woman gives her a death stare until the door is shut behind me. “I had a garbled call on my cell phone. From someone on Creek reception. Something’s happened.”
Stomach-lurch.
“An iPad was found in your bathroom.”
Nausea.
“Noah said it was his. Your father’s placed him in solitary, and now he’s trying to locate Thet. She’s missing.”
Solitary. Missing. The words scare me.
“It sounds as if the situation is out of control. The place is on lockdown. He’s found out that you’re here through a search on the iPad and Mick’s been sent to fetch you. It’s not safe for you to go back to the Creek. We need to get you out of here before Mick arrives. I’ve called the police.”
Each beat of my heart is one of fear. I wonder if the only reason Hunter let me leave the Creek today was so that he could have my room and bathroom pulled apart to see if I was hiding anything. “I have to go back. Noah and Thet can’t take the blame for me. It’s very dangerous for them.” I know how bad this could get. Hunter’s already covered up Austin’s death. Noah and Thet mean nothing to him, and he’s an expert at manipulating parents. I’m the one he really wants. He has years of data on me. I’m too precious for him to lose. If he lets the other two leave the Creek, he can have me.
“Mae, I have a cousin who grew up in a cult,” says Ms Ray. She sees my confused expression. “Cults are groups that follow strange teachings and tend to do anything their leader tells them to. Hummingbird Creek is a bit like that. We need to hurry. I have a friend who lives in Pattonville. We’ll be safe there.”
“I can’t.” I feel oddly calm. If I waited this out at Ms Ray’s friend’s house I would never forgive myself.
Joanie puts her hand in mine. “I want my mom. I want to go home.”
We forgot she was there, listening to us. “OK, we’ll go home,” I say. “We’ll work on our routine another day.”
Ms Ray rolls down the sleeves of her white shirt and slides her hand into her bag for the car key. “As long as the police are there before us,” she says under her breath.
THIRTY-FIVE
As Ms Ray drives out of the library parking lot, she says, “Shall we talk about this?”
I shake my head. I don’t want Joanie to overhear, and if I tell Ms Ray about HB and the time differences, about Hunter not being my dad and Austin’s death being covered up, she won’t drive me back.
I force myself to think about the exam, to concentrate on my favourite questions, but my mind slides back each time to Noah in solitary and Thet missing. I wonder if Will knows what’s going on, and if Mom will do anything to save me when she realizes that I’ve been hiding an iPad.
“I guess there’s no turning back now, even if we wanted to,” says Ms Ray in a low voice, glancing in her mirror.
Looking through the rear window, I see we’re being tailed by an identical silver car to the one we’re in. It’s Mick. Joanie sinks down in her seat. Fear pecks at me, but we have Ms Ray and the police are on their way.
We pass the sign that says:
Hummingbird Creek
Private Psychiatric Facility
for Adolescents
1 mile
I was at least ten before I understood what psychiatric and adolescents meant, not that I cared. My life was about exploring the Creek with Drew.
There’s a Creek security guard on the road, in front of the gates. No police.
I’m not sure that when I go through those gates I’ll ever be allowed out again.
The guard indicates that Ms Ray should lower her window. He peers into the car. “All three of you? Good. Go straight to the security building, you can park in front.”
We drive through the gates, followed by Mick. Joanie unbuckles her belt and scoots over to me. It’s not unusual for the grounds to be empty during lesson time or when all activities are taking place away from this front part of the Creek, but there’s usually a gardener or a member of the support staff around. Today there’s no one and every sound is magnified. The thud of the car doors behind us. Our feet on the concrete of the parking lot. The call of birds hidden in the trees. Ms Ray and I take hold of Joanie’s hands. Mick walks a few paces behind us.
“Let’s get this ironed out,” says Ms Ray in a voice that’s too loud.
Fear is throbbing through my veins now. It’s hard to think straight but as long as Noah and Thet don’t suffer for being my friends, that’s all that matters.
Two different guards watch us approach. One says, “Mick will escort Joanie to her apartment.”
Joanie cowers from Mick. “I don’t want to go with him! Don’t let him take me!” Her screams terrify me.
“I’ll take her home,” I say.
“No need.” Mick pulls Joanie away from us. She’s immediately silent with shock. She walks towards Hibiscus with Mick’s hand on the back of her head.
The guards escort Ms Ray and me into the security building. The monitors have been upgraded since I was here. They’re super-thin and cover an entire wall. A female guard is watching them. She looks at us as we’re led past her, through a door to a corridor where the lights are on because there
are no windows. I count four closed doors.
“You,” says one of the guards to Ms Ray. “Come with me.”
“Where to? What’s going on?” She laughs in a nervous way. It’s frightening how small and vulnerable she looks, like a new patient. I regret the silent journey back here. I should have thanked her for trying to help me.
The guard points to a door at the end of the corridor. “In there. And I’m going to be the one asking the questions. Not you.”
The other guard knocks on a different door, and I’m led in. Earl is sitting behind a polished wood desk. I remember the rumour about him strangling someone. He stares at me for several moments, watching my legs shake violently, then he says, “So here you are. Mae Ballard. What trouble you’ve caused.” His gold cufflinks glint at me.
I’m barely breathing.
“Tell me about this iPad of yours,” he says.
I shake my head. I have to know that Noah, Thet and Ms Ray will be OK before I say anything they want to hear. “Where’s Hunter? I’ll tell him.” My voice is a croak.
He stands up and circles behind me. “Where did it come from?”
I say nothing.
“Who knew about it?”
Silence.
There’s a knock on the door. It’s the guard who showed me into the room. “Dr Ballard is in admin, sir. He’s been informed that Mae is here and he’s asked that we send her up.”
Earl nods. “Any sign of the other girl?”
“No, sir. Not yet.”
There’s a moment’s pause, then Earl says, “The heat-seeking equipment is on its way. Let me know if the police turn up. I told them everything was under control but you never know. Take Mae to her father.”
Outside the air is shimmery. I walk up the path to the main building with the guard by my side. A movement to my right catches my eye. I glimpse Will, tucking himself round the side of the building. As I climb the steps to reception, I glance back slightly and he’s there, watching.