The Boarding House

by Sharon Sala

  Sophie sighed. “I can’t eat your food for you, Ellie. It’s your candy. It’s your life. Take charge. It’s time.”

  Ellie shoved the rest of the Hershey into her mouth at one time in a desperate attempt to assuage Sophie’s demands. “I’m eating it. See. I took charge. You don’t need to leave. You don’t need to go anywhere.”

  Sophie patted Ellie’s cheek. “Don’t worry, Ellie. I’m still here . . . at least for a while.”

  Cinnamon bounced onto the bed and then leaned against the wall. “What’s going on? I heard a lot of angry voices.”

  Chocolate was dribbling from the corner of Ellie’s mouth as she began to cry. “Sophie’s leaving us. She said she won’t come back.”

  “There’s chocolate on your chin,” Cin said, then got a tissue and wiped Ellie’s face.

  “I don’t care about the chocolate on my face. I care about Sophie. Talk to her. Make her stay. You have to make her stay!”

  Cin tossed the tissue in the trash and then folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not the one in charge of us, Ellie. That’s you.”

  Ellie screamed. “Stop saying that. I don’t believe you. I’m not in charge of anything.”

  Wyatt slid into the conversation so smoothly Ellie didn’t even know he’d come in. “It’s obvious you’re not in charge of anything or we wouldn’t be who we are.”

  Ellie flinched as if she’d been slapped. Wyatt never criticized her. “I can’t believe you said that. Stop being mean.”

  Wyatt put his arms around her, holding her so tight against him that she could feel their hearts beating as one. “I’m not mean. I’m honest. When you learn to be in charge of your life, you won’t need us anymore.”

  Ellie erupted, spewing huge, hiccupping sobs that felt like knives being poked into her chest. “If I don’t have any of you, I’ll have no one. I don’t want to be alone. I’m afraid of being alone.”

  Wyatt sighed. “But Daddy’s gone now, Ellie. I killed him so he could never hurt you again. There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

  Ellie rolled over onto the bed and turned her face to the wall. All three of them began talking to her at once, but she didn’t want to listen. She pulled the pillow over her head and shut her eyes. Just when she thought life couldn’t get any worse, it handed her a mutiny. “I hate you, God. I hate you.”

  At the other end of the building, Luther Dunn suddenly reeled as if he’d been shot and fell out of his chair onto the floor.

  Aaron tossed a new stash of Hershey bars in his desk drawer for when Ellie Wayne’s therapy time rolled around. After his first success with the candy, he didn’t want to be caught short. It was just in time as Charlie knocked and then let Ellie in.

  Aaron knew within seconds it wasn’t Ellie, and from Wyatt’s attitude, Aaron figured Ellie probably wasn’t going to show. Still, he thought he’d try speaking to her in the hope that she’d hear him and come forward.

  “Good morning, Ellie. I hope you slept well last night.”

  Wyatt strode into the office and slid into the seat like a typical teenage boy, his legs sprawled, his shoulders slumped.

  “I’m Wyatt. No, Ellie didn’t sleep well. She’s pretty mad at all of us.”

  “Really? What happened?”

  “She’s still struggling with the fact that we’re not real. She sees us just like you see her and is afraid to be alone.”

  Aaron was fascinated by how adeptly Ellie’s brain had found a way to cope with unbearable trauma. Knowing there were other personalities was one thing, but he hadn’t been aware that Ellie physically saw them. “So who told her you weren’t real?”

  Wyatt shrugged. “I think it was Cinnamon who told her first, but it was what’s happening to Sophie that freaked Ellie out.”

  “What’s happening to Sophie?”

  “She’s losing her hearing, right?”

  “Yes, I’ve noticed, but—”

  “Sophie claims she’s losing her hearing because Ellie doesn’t really need her anymore.” Wyatt shoved his hand through his hair and then doubled up his fists. “She got so mad. She freaked. She’s never been that mad at us before. It was hard to see.”

  “I’m so sorry, especially for you. You two have been together almost from the start.”

  Tears welled, but Wyatt blinked them away. “We know you’re doing your best to integrate all of us, but I have to tell you there’s nothing you can say that will make it happen. Either we talk her into accepting it, or she’s lost.”

  Aaron didn’t know how to respond to a statement like that. It felt weird, having an alter talk treatment with him as if they were peers. He scrambled to remember some of the things Ellie had said to him that might sway Wyatt. He needed for all of them to trust him, not just Ellie, but Sophie decided to put her two cents in as well.

  “Dr. Tyler, it’s me, Sophie. Wyatt’s right, you know. He’s always right about Ellie, whether we like it or not. Maybe when the first of us leaves, it will convince her we’re right, that she can exist without us.”

  Aaron found this fascinating—an alter being willing to cease existence. Everything he’d read about this indicated the opposite—that they often took on a personality they didn’t want to give up. There were even a few documented cases where the original person completely disappeared and the alter took over and lived out the rest of the life.

  So why was this case different? What made all three of these alters willing to “die” to make Ellie well? Was it something innate within Ellie that had caused her to create alters with empathetic personalities, or was there another reason—something he didn’t understand?

  “What’s the scoop on this guy who wants to talk to Ellie?”

  Aaron blinked. “Uh . . . Cinnamon, is that you?”

  “One and the same. I told Ellie about the guy but she didn’t seem interested. What’s he in here for?”

  “I can’t comment upon that. Doctor-patient privilege, you know.”

  “Then I’m going to tell Ellie to stay away,” Wyatt said. “For all we know, he could be some crazy killer. She doesn’t need any more grief.”

  Aaron was torn. He was curious as to how Ellie would react if she knew the basis for Luther’s delusion, but he couldn’t recommend them meeting on the chance it might do her some good. He wasn’t in the business of playing with people’s lives just to see what might happen.

  “I can tell you he wasn’t admitted for any crimes, but other than that—” He shrugged.

  “Did Ellie tell you about the ghost baby?” Sophie asked.

  He nodded.

  Sophie started to cry. “We don’t know how to help her with that, and it’s the one thing I fear might push her over the edge. She’s been hearing it cry for weeks now. I don’t want her to go so far away that she can never come back. We’ve all worked so hard to try and help, but we don’t understand the baby or where it came from.”

  Aaron was surprised. “You don’t think it had anything to do with the abortion?”

  “No,” Wyatt said. “And if you’d known how bad Ellie hated Daddy, you wouldn’t even ask that. That pregnancy was like a plague to her. If she hadn’t been able to get the abortion, she would have killed herself before she would let it grow.”

  Cinnamon interrupted. “If you all remember, she did try to kill herself, and it was only by the grace of God that I was with her when she bought the sleeping pills and still with her when she tried to take them. I flushed them all down the toilet. And that was after the abortion. She was freaking out because she thought the baby was haunting her and she couldn’t take it.”

  Wyatt nodded. “That’s when Sophie and I found out about the abortion. I’d thought about killing Daddy a lot of times but never did it. That was the last straw.”

  “Do any of you have an idea as to why she might be hearing a baby cry? Is there anything in her past that it might be connected to?”

  Cinnamon threw out an observation that startled Aaron and almost made sense. “What if Ellie isn�
�t ‘hearing’ the cries, but is remembering them instead? What if the baby she hears crying is her?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The therapy session ended later with the arrival of Cinnamon’s favorite aide, Charlie. Dr. Tyler sent her off with a Hershey bar for Ellie.

  “So how did it go today?” Charlie asked, as he walked Ellie back to her room.

  “Ellie wouldn’t come,” Cinnamon said. “She’s mad at all of us right now.”

  Charlie was used to the oddities of the patients, but this one was fascinating to him. “Sorry to hear that but I’m sure she’ll get over it.”

  “Hey Charlie, what’s the deal with that great big guy who was talking to me in the common room today?”

  “You mean Luther?”

  “I didn’t know his name.”

  “Luther Dunn. He’s been here for several years.”

  “Why is he here?”

  “I don’t know the medical term for what’s wrong with him, but he’s delusional and don’t tell anyone I said so. We’re not supposed to discuss patients with other patients, but Luther is different. Everyone in here knows about Luther.”

  “Except me. So what’s his deal?”

  Charlie grinned. “He thinks he’s God.”

  Cinnamon stumbled. If Charlie hadn’t been holding onto her arm, she would have fallen flat on her face.

  “Easy there,” Charlie said, and stopped at her room. “We’re here. They’ll probably be serving lunch within the hour. Beef and noodles and I think chocolate cake, one of their better menu choices.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Cin said, and darted into the room and shut the door. “Guys. Come here quick. I have something to tell you.”

  “What is it? Is it about Ellie?” Wyatt asked.

  “Just a minute,” Cin yelled. “Sophie.”

  “My goodness, were you calling me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry, I had no idea. What’s happening?”

  Cin moved closer then lowered her voice. “You two need to hear this. This Luther Dunn, the man who wants to talk to Ellie—”

  “What about him?” Wyatt asked.

  “He thinks he’s God.”

  “What the hell?”

  Sophie frowned. “Wyatt. I won’t have cursing.”

  “Sorry, but I don’t get it. So he thinks he’s God. What about it?”

  Cin rolled her eyes. “You pay absolutely no attention to anything I tell you, do you, Wyatt?”

  Wyatt glared. “I’m listening now.”

  “Then hear this. You know Ellie says she won’t pray to God anymore because he never listened to her prayers, right?”

  Sophie and Wyatt nodded.

  “So guess what the last thing this Luther guy told me to tell Ellie?”

  Wyatt threw up his hands. “I give up.”

  “Remember, he never told me his name, or who he thought he was. He just said for me to tell Ellie that he was listening.”

  Sophie gasped.

  Wyatt looked stunned. “Are you serious?”

  Cin nodded. “So my question to you guys is this—do we tell Ellie? Would this help or do you think she would believe him and make everything worse?”

  “I don’t know. I need to think about this,” Wyatt said.

  “Don’t take too long because Ellie may decide to see him for herself this afternoon purely out of curiosity.”

  “See who?” Ellie asked.

  “Oh. Hi. There you are.” Cin handed Ellie the Hershey bar. “Dr. Tyler sent this to you. Said for you to come back and see him next visit.”

  “Thank you,” Ellie said, and started to open it when Sophie stopped her. “You’ll ruin your lunch. Save it for after.”

  “Oh. Right.” Ellie looked at it wistfully, laid it on her table then moved to the window.

  “It looks so pretty outside. I hate being locked up like this. Remember when we used to walk to the pharmacy whenever we wanted? It’s so weird not being able to go where you want to.”

  Wyatt slipped up beside her. “We’re stuck in here because of what I did, remember? Are you mad at me?”

  “No, Wyatt. Never. You saved us. I’d rather be in here for the rest of my life than living free under the same roof with Daddy.” Ellie’s focus shifted instantly from wanting out of the hospital to grabbing her hair by the handfuls and pulling it in frustration. “My head hurts. I don’t feel so sorry for that ghost baby anymore. I just wish it would shut the hell up.”

  Cin laughed. “Way to go, Ellie. I like to see some fire back in your soul.”

  “But without the cursing, of course,” Sophie said.

  Cin rolled her eyes and sat down on the bed. “Whatever. I am so bored. No wonder people are crazy in this place. There’s nothing to do. I suppose they want us to get well, but sticking us off in these stupid lizard-green rooms with no televisions or books and leading us around like we’re in kindergarten seems counterproductive to me.”

  “If you paid more attention to where we are you’d know some of the patients in here aren’t capable of putting food in their own mouths. These safeguards are here for everyone’s protection.”

  Cin glared at Wyatt. “Thank you, Dr. Wyatt, for the health lesson.”

  Before any more barbs could be slung, the door to Ellie’s room opened and an aide came in with her lunch. “Enjoy, Ellie. I’ll be back later to pick up the tray.”

  Wyatt headed for the table. “Finally. Lunchtime.”

  “Save some for Ellie,” Sophie said. “You eat far more than your share and you know it.”

  Cin laughed. “You’re guys are nuts. It all goes to the same place no matter who’s chewing.”

  Ellie stared at the food tray. She could still hear Cinnamon’s laugh and Wyatt arguing with Sophie, but there was a moment of clarity that shook her to the core. She could hear them, but they were no longer visible. On the verge of panic, she suddenly heard Wyatt whisper.

  “Breathe, Ellie. Everything is as it should be.”

  The heat of the sun coming through the window was warm on her back as she sat down, picked up her fork and began to eat.

  Luther Dunn ate food to fuel his body, unaware of taste or texture. If there was something left on his tray when he was finished, it had nothing to do with like or dislike. It was more likely from having been distracted. The voices he lived with were so loud and insistent that he didn’t bother to set them aside for any length of time.

  Today when they brought his lunch tray was no different from any other until he sat down to eat. As he did, he felt a moment of quiet so startling he looked up at the aide and smiled.

  She was rattled enough by the interaction that she stumbled, then hurried off to tell what he’d done.

  Unusual things were happening with Luther Dunn and no one could put their finger on what had triggered it, only that it had begun after Ellie Wayne’s admission.

  Dr. Ferris was notified that Luther had made eye contact with an aide and actually smiled at her. At that point she abandoned her own lunch in the hopes that he’d still be open to communication. When she got to his room, she knocked a couple of times before entering.

  “Hello Luther, I see I’m barging in on your meal. I just had a quick question for you.”

  Luther didn’t respond as he picked up a piece of bread and took a bite.

  Sensing he wasn’t thrilled by her presence, Moira stayed in the doorway instead of walking into the room. “You never make special requests of any kind and it occurred to me that you might be in need of something and just hesitant to ask. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  Luther reached for the glass of iced tea on his tray and took a drink. Just when Moira thought she’d made another wasted trip, he stood up.

  “I need colored markers that will mark on glass.”

  Moira stifled the urge to squeal. “Markers that will mark on glass? Right. I’ll go check on that right now. I’ll be back. Soon. Okay?”

  Luther walked over to the window and sat down in the su
n, but Moira was already gone.

  When free time in the common room came around, Luther was one of the first to arrive. He headed straight to the wall of windows on the west side of the room where the sun came through onto the floor. Each window consisted of sixteen small panes of glass set into an iron framework, not unlike quilt squares set into a quilt, and extended from the windowsills up, all the way to the ceiling. The frames were made so that no matter how many glass panes were broken, no one would have been able to escape. Decorative iron bars, but iron bars, just the same.

  Luther laid his sack of markers on the windowsill, took out a roll of toilet paper and began to clean the glass.

  “What’s he doing?” Moira asked.

  The nurse standing next to her shrugged. “Looks like Luther does windows. All these years we’ve been missing out.”

  Aaron Tyler walked up. “Hey, Moira, I got your call. What’s up?”

  Moira pointed.

  “Ah. The elusive Luther is in the room. Washing windows?”

  “I don’t think so,” Moira said. “Earlier he asked for colored markers that would mark on glass.”

  “Interesting, I guess we’ll—” Aaron jerked as if he’d been slapped. “Colors on glass?”

  “What are you talking about?” Moira asked.

  Once again, Aaron’s reality was being altered in a way he didn’t understand. “It can’t be.”

  Moira grabbed Aaron’s arm. “Can’t be what? For God’s sake, Aaron. Stop being so mysterious.”

  “Give me a couple of minutes to check something out. I’ll be right back.”

  He hurried back to his office and began searching for his notes from his last session with Ellie, then sat down to read, scanning through the text to where she’d talked about church.

  “. . . sitting where the sun comes through the Jesus window . . . spills colors onto my chest and into my lap . . . closer to God.”

  “Damn.”

  He looked up, his gaze falling on his three framed degrees hanging on the wall, then to an award he’d won a few years back for a paper he’d had published on the study of paranoia in children under the age of eighteen. There wasn’t one single thing in all of the education and experience he had that would explain what was happening here. And yet it was happening.