Ravensong

by ML Hamilton

  Joshua met her gaze. “But it would have ended. Eventually, they would have gone on with their lives and they would have forgotten. Now they can’t.” He eased forward in the chair. “When someone dies, you forget the bad things, you remember only the good. They would have remembered only the good. Now they have only the shame.”

  Again her expression softened to sympathy. “I understand. And you still believe this?”

  He nodded.

  “That makes my job more difficult. Obviously, the suicide watch will continue.”

  Joshua didn’t respond. He hadn’t realized he’d been on one, but it made sense. He didn’t much care either way.

  She wrote something on the pad of paper in the middle of her desk. Joshua couldn’t read it from where he was, but he didn’t care about that either. She put her pen down and looked at him intently.

  “Let’s talk about your father now.”

  “Adam? What’s there to say? He’s the worst of them all. He was the one who was there when I first woke up, he’s been there every day since and I’m not even a blood relative. He took me in and he gave me a good life, and I repaid him by tearing his life apart. He’s not even working right now. He spends all of his time in this damn hospital.”

  “Seems to me he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be. I don’t think blood relations matter to him at all. I think he feels you are his son in every way possible.” She picked up a file on the edge of the desk and rifled through it. “Actually, I wasn’t asking about Adam. I was asking about your biological father, Ray Ravensong. The documentation I have here is alarming. Every time you’ve seen this man, he’s resorted to physical abuse.” She looked up at him, but Joshua’s eyes were riveted on the file. “Tell me about him, Joshua.”

  “No,” he said.

  She closed the file and lowered it. “No? Obviously, I’ve touched a nerve. This seems to be an important key to the puzzle.”

  Joshua’s eyes lifted to her. “No, it isn’t. He isn’t to blame for my drug addiction. I am.”

  “While I commend you for taking responsibility, you have to understand that child abuse can create a situation where the adult is more vulnerable to self-destructive behavior. It most certainly has a bearing on your own drug use.” She opened the file again and read from it. “And these attacks were brutal, Joshua. Concussions, broken ribs…broken pelvis? My god.”

  Joshua shifted his attention to the clock again and watched the second hand go round and round.

  “Your family feels it’s important. They shared with me that during all of the attacks, you never once fought back, you never once protected yourself. Why not?”

  Joshua tried to drown out the sound of her voice. This was something he wasn’t going to open. Not for his freedom, not for his family. He wasn’t going to go here.

  “Joshua? Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  The second hand spun merrily on, never stopping, never slowing. He let his eyes go unfocused and allowed it to hypnotize him into a calmer state.

  She gave an exhalation and closed the file. “Please don’t do this.”

  He shut his eyes. “I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”

  “That’s a sign of depression, Joshua. I can give you something to help with that.”

  He opened his eyes and gave a bark of laughter. “Drugs? You’re going to give me drugs?”

  “A controlled substance that I will carefully monitor.”

  He laughed again. “Are you sure you have a degree in this?”

  “Sarcasm is defensive. You’re trying to avoid the real issue.”

  He sighed. “I don’t want your drugs. I just want to go back to my room. Please.”

  She stared at him and he couldn’t read her expression. Finally, she sank back in her chair. “All right, Joshua. We’re done.”

  * * *

  Joshua stared out of the window in his room. He could see the street and the people walking by, going on with their lives, talking and laughing and enjoying their freedom.

  He’d had seven sessions with Dr. Staddler so far. He knew the exact number. Each one was so painful and so long that he’d watched the clock spin obsessively. Not that being in this room was any better. He paced the length of it. He stared out of the window. He tried to watch TV, but nothing interested him. They brought him books and that gave him a few hours of relief. James had brought him a keyboard, but Joshua had left it on the table, walking wide around it whenever he had to pass by. He’d never so much as touched a key and he would never admit he wanted to, but knowing it was in the room caused a restless feeling to build inside of him. It was different from his usual restless feeling. He understood the other. The other feeling was longing, longing for the drug, a burning ache that never, ever went away. Even in sleep. Even in sleep, he was aware of the want for it.

  “You have a visitor,” said the nurse at his back.

  He sighed and turned, tensing himself for the pitying look one of his family members always gave him. What he saw instead was pure disgust. Ray stood in the doorway and looked him up and down.

  Joshua felt a wash of fear and his gaze snapped to the nurse, but she was already leaving the room. He started toward the door, but Ray moved closer into the room and Joshua stopped abruptly.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Visiting my drug addict of a son. I had to hear about it through the newspapers. Can you believe that? Your bitch of a mother couldn’t even call to tell me you’d almost killed yourself.”

  Joshua knew his breathing had accelerated. “Get out.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not the one who screwed up your life. You did. You had everything you could ask for. Movies, record deals. How could you be so damn stupid?”

  “I guess I inherited that from you.”

  “I never became a drug addict.”

  Joshua sneered. “No, you’re just a drunk.”

  Ray’s face contorted and he took a step closer. “I’d be careful if I were you. I’ve always held a job, taken care of myself. I’ve never had to be committed for my own safety. What a loser!”

  “Really? Well, we both know what you’ll be someday. Someday you’ll be a filthy bum, begging for food on street, dying in a gutter…”

  Ray struck, just as Joshua knew he would. He belted Joshua on the side of the face, knocking him almost off his feet, then he struck again, connecting with his temple. Joshua’s legs crumpled and he dropped to his hands and knees. Black spots crowded his field of vision and he sank toward the ground, but a blow in his abdomen had him arching his back. He gasped for air, but his lungs wouldn’t contract. The next kick heaved him up and onto his side. His vision cleared enough for him to see the nurse throwing herself at Ray even as he aimed a kick at Joshua again. The blow glanced off his shoulder, knocking him back into the bed tray.

  His abdomen spasmed and air rushed into his lungs, making him gasp in agony. White hot pain raced along every nerve and he could only lay where he’d fallen, staring up at the track lights in the ceiling overhead.

  * * *

  Joshua tried to hide how much it hurt to lower himself into her chair. She was watching him with a frown, her glasses curled in a fist. He wondered if she knew he’d provoked Ray and if she thought it was another attempt at suicide. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it himself, but he didn’t think it had been suicide driven. That was one way of dying he didn’t really relish.

  Honestly, he suspected it was a test. Could he control himself when he was on edge all of the time? The need for the drug made him feel as if his temper was always raw. Could he take Ray’s beating and not retaliate? He had to know. How could he ever leave the hospital if he didn’t know?

  “You look like hell,” she remarked.

  He shrugged, then grimaced. Not a good idea. His ribs were still tender.

  “I understand that you refuse to press charges against him?”

  Joshua raised a brow, but didn’t respond.

  “Why?”
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  “I don’t want to go to court. Seems hypocritical considering what I am.”

  “Then defend yourself.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Everyone can. You don’t have to take that abuse. If you won’t put a permanent stop to it, you have every right to hit him back.”

  “I can’t.”

  She leaned on the desk and clasped her hands. “Please stop saying that. Why can’t you?”

  “Because if I do, I’ll become him. If I defend myself one time, I will become him. I know it.”

  She gave a sigh of understanding. “You think you’ll become an abuser?”

  He nodded.

  “It’s a true concern, Joshua, but it doesn’t have to be a reality.”

  “How so?”

  “Obviously, you’ve not given in to that impulse so far. I’m not suggesting you visit the same abuse on him, I’m just suggesting you defend yourself. There is a difference.”

  “Not once the line has been crossed.”

  She narrowed her eyes on him. “Are you saying you’ve never struck anyone? Never gotten into a fight, say in school?”

  “I’ve never struck anyone, but I’ve been in plenty of fights.”

  “You mean on the receiving end of them, right?”

  He nodded again.

  “How many? Did you get bullied often?”

  He gave a bark of laughter. “I don’t know how many, but yeah, I got my share of bullying.”

  “More than James?”

  “You might say that.”

  “Why? With your talent and looks…”

  Joshua shook his head in grim amusement. “Funny thing that. There’s something about being prettier than half the girls that makes other boys want to beat the shit out of you.”

  She opened his file again and flipped a few pages. “Is that the reason for all of the women? Did you think you had to prove yourself?”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “No, I just like women. You aren’t very good at this, are you?”

  “Again with the sarcasm.” But she was smiling. “You can be charming when you want, you know? How did things get this bad, Joshua? What happened?”

  His smile fell away and he shook his head wearily. “I don’t know.”

  She cocked her head in that look that said he was being difficult.

  He wasn’t trying to be. “I’m serious,” he said, “You don’t even know when it’s happening. It all comes so quickly, you know? One minute we were playing birthday parties and the next, we were in Hollywood. We had a record deal and then there was modeling. After that, they offered me movie parts, small things at first, then larger. You’re going all hours of the day and late into the night. You get tired.”

  “Go on,” she said, putting down her pen and glasses.

  He shifted his weight in the chair, trying to ease the ache in his bruised ribs. “They offer you a pill to help wake you up, and you take it because you don’t want to seem ungrateful, but you can’t sleep that night, so they give you another pill to bring you down. Pretty soon, the pills take too long to work, so it’s a snort of this to get you up. The next thing you know, you’re sticking a needle in your arm and waiting for oblivion to take you. Towards the end, I was taking heroin just so I could sleep.”

  “Who gave this to you?”

  “The first was a movie producer and his assistant. After that, I got it on my own.”

  “Will you give me the name of the producer?”

  He braced his aching head with a hand. “You really want to see me dead, don’t you?”

  “Of course not. What do you mean?”

  Joshua studied her face for a moment, then sighed. “I’ll give you his name,” he said, realizing he didn’t care what the retribution might be.

  * * *

  Joshua watched the swans swimming in the lake, gliding back and forth with an effortless, lazy push of one leg or the other. He knew the scene was contrived, designed to make the hospital prisoners feel calm and serene, but it worked. He could sit here for hours, watching the swans glide past, listening to the lap of the water against the bank.

  Since he’d been cooperating with Dr. Staddler, he’d been granted unlimited access to the grounds. He spent as much time out here as he could, hours on end, wandering aimlessly or just sitting and watching. The swans were his favorite, hypnotic in their grace, and for a short time, a very short time, they eased the nagging want of the drug.

  His mind registered the person standing in front of him and he looked up, blinking to pull his thoughts back to the present. For a panic-stricken moment, he didn’t recognize her.

  She was slight with long blond hair and large blue eyes. She had a pretty face, but she was looking him over as if he’d done something to offend her. Name? What was her name?

  “Hello, Joshua,” she said.

  “Hello.” He drew it out, trying frantically to remember who she was.

  “Terry?” she supplied.

  That was it. He gave a short nod.

  “You look like shit,” she said, then tilted her head to see the side of his face. “You get hit by a truck or something.”

  “Tree,” he answered. “Actually, I hit the tree.”

  “You’ve been here almost two months. That’s still from the car accident?”

  Joshua finally understood. “Oh, no, no, not that.”

  She exhaled in exasperation. “God, what did you do, fry your brains?”

  He shrugged. He didn’t think so, but he could get so distracted at times. Dr. Staddler told him that would fade. “Why are you here?”

  “We need to talk.”

  He frowned and his memory came back. He remembered who she was. “Do you have a disease or something?”

  She gave him a very dissatisfied look. “No, amazingly you didn’t give me anything.” She took a seat beside him and he shifted so he could face her. “I need to know something and I need you to tell me the absolute truth. It’s important, Joshua.”

  “All right.”

  “Were you using when we were together?”

  His frown deepened.

  “Were you on the drugs then?” she rephrased.

  Something about her question was destroying the calm he’d built. “Yes,” he answered.

  “Shit!” She turned away from him and clasped her hands in her lap.

  “Why?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  She said it so casually, Joshua wasn’t sure he heard her right. “What?”

  “I’m pregnant. You know, with a baby?”

  “What?” For some reason he couldn’t think of any other words.

  “I’m having a baby. Shit!” She stared over the lake. “What a mess!”

  Joshua narrowed his eyes on her, trying to focus his wayward thoughts. “I don’t understand.”

  She gave him a hateful look. “You got me pregnant, idiot!”

  He wanted to dispute what she said, but his thoughts wouldn’t form into words. Time was difficult for him, especially in the hospital, but he should be able to pull it together. His eyes lowered to her stomach. He couldn’t tell anything from that. She wasn’t showing yet.

  “You’ve really messed everything up,” she said. “Now I have to have a whole bunch of tests done.”

  “Tests?”

  She glared at him over her shoulder. “To see if it’s a retard or something.”

  He flinched. “You’re going to have it?”

  “Of course,” she sneered. “It’s my meal ticket.” She gave a laugh, then noting the look on his face, she rolled her eyes. “Besides, I don’t believe in abortion.”

  “What if…what if there’s something wrong?”

  She shrugged. “Guess you’d better pull yourself together and get out of here. If something’s wrong, we’re gonna need a lot of money.” She glanced at him from the corners of her eyes. “Better stop letting people use your pretty face for a punching bag.”

 
Joshua grimaced as the muscle spasms began – a tightening in his abdomen, circling around to the middle of his back. His flesh crawled as if ants were marching across his skin.

  She didn’t notice his distress. “Shit! I sure wish you hadn’t been using. It would have been so much easier.” Pushing herself to her feet, she gave him an annoyed look. “If this kid is messed up, it’s all your fault.”

  Joshua didn’t hear her leave. After awhile, he realized that the wind was picking up and he was shivering with cold. He unfolded himself from the bench and rose, turning away from the lake and heading to the hospital.

  He knew he’d hurt his family with his drug use. That guilt was almost too much to take, but to know he might have caused permanent damage to an innocent person, a person incapable of protecting itself, he couldn’t wrap his mind around that.

  He might eventually be able to make things right with his family, but he’d never make things right if the child turned out to be damaged. All his fault? Terry was right. He had done something unforgivable, something so bad there was no recovering from it.

  Staring at himself in the mirror, he realized he didn’t know how he’d gotten into the bathroom. Sometimes there were great dark holes where his memory fell and never surfaced again. They were terrifying, this one especially.

  He looked around the interior of the room, but they’d taken everything from him – belts, shoelaces, even the ties on his robe. His gaze rose again and focused on the face in the mirror. A muscle spasm stole his breath and left him clinging to the sink, his head bowed against it.

  Dr. Staddler thought he could defend himself and not become his father, but he’d already done so. He’d already harmed the person he was supposed to protect. A choking rage rose inside of him and he struck the mirror with his fist. It splintered, chunks falling into the sink, pattering on the floor. He extended his hand and stared at the glass sticking out of his knuckles, the ribbon of blood dripping off his hand. A drop splattered on a piece of glass in the sink and he stared at it in fascination.

  Slowly he rotated his arm until his wrist was turned up, then he reached for the glass in the sink. He knew which way to cut, slicing from the base of his palm toward his elbow. He didn’t even feel the pain over the agony from the muscle spasms.