Locked Inside

by Annette Mori

  Carly left around four o’clock that day and I missed her presence immediately. She would soon become the one bright and shining star each afternoon as she religiously spent her lunch-time with me every day except Saturday. She knew that Saturdays were family days and I suspect she didn’t want to intrude on that time. I wasn’t sure if Carly came to visit me every day because she wanted to or because she was hiding out. Perhaps it was a little of both.

  Chapter Six

  Monday was almost a repeat of Friday, except when Carly rushed into my room and saw white trash squared bolted to their seats watching All My Children with my lunch tray sitting untouched on the side. It wasn’t long before the fireworks started. I made a note to myself that I never wanted to make Carly mad. She was a ball of fire in a compact little body.

  Carly surveyed the room for a few seconds before launching into a tirade that rivaled any powerful adult I’d ever witnessed giving someone a good old fashioned dressing down.

  “What in the world are you two doing? I see that Belinda’s lunch tray is untouched and your fat assess are glued to the chair while she’s not had anything to eat yet. I swear if her food is cold while you’re lazing about, your jobs are history,” Carly spit out.

  “Why aren’t you in school? I’m sure your mom would be quite interested in you skipping school to visit the vegetable. What do you care anyway? You some kind of freak that likes hanging around retards?” the surly one asked.

  “That’s it, you’re toast.” Carly ran out of the room and she was so angry I thought I could almost see steam coming out of her ears.

  “Do you think she’s going to get Nurse Ratched?” the overweight one asked with a tinge of worry in her voice. “I need this job until I can get the one at the hospital.”

  “Come on, just in case, you start feeding her and I’ll start to get the supplies ready for her bath.”

  It didn’t take long for a middle-aged woman to enter my room. She narrowed her eyes at the two aides. “Don’t even bother trying to pretend you’ve been doing your jobs. This is the last straw. I’ve been getting complaints for months about you two. You’re done. Get your stuff and leave. I’ll only offer this once. If you leave quietly, I won’t contest unemployment, but if either of you make a fuss of any kind, be prepared for the fight of your life.”

  “But…,” the surly one started.

  “I mean it, Mary, not one word. Get out of my sight, both of you.”

  Carly quietly entered the room and crossed her arms. She had a grim expression on her face and still looked mad but she wasn’t gloating about the turn of events.

  The two aides gave her the evil eye as they both roughly bumped her before leaving the room.

  “Mrs. Porter, I can feed Belinda if you need me to, but I don’t know if I have the skills to do anything else. I know you’re short-handed now. Just let me know how I can help. I’ll call Mom right now and ask her to call the school to see if they’ll let me stay for the rest of the afternoon to help out,” Carly offered.

  “That’s very sweet of you to offer, Carly.” Mrs. Porter sighed. “I don’t know what other choice we have right now. I guess if you’re willing and your mom says it’s okay, I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I sure wish I could hire you as an aide, but you’re still too young. They won’t let me consider hiring anyone under the age of eighteen—something about child welfare laws that restrict the hours so much that it isn’t worth the hassle.”

  “I’m almost positive my mom won’t mind and I’m not missing too much today at school. I can get notes and my homework from Tammie for the two classes I’ll miss.”

  Mrs. Porter nodded and left the room.

  Carly pulled out her phone and punched in some numbers before placing it up against her ear. “Hi, Mom. I’m in Belinda’s room and there’s been an incident. No, she’s okay, it’s just that I found the aides shirking their duties and I kinda went off on them. Um, yeah, I got Mrs. Porter and she fired them. I was hoping I could miss my afternoon classes, because Mrs. Porter really needs some help. I offered to feed Belinda and maybe try to learn how to give her a bath or something. Nah, I won’t be missing much and Tammie can give me the notes and homework. Please, Mom, they’re really short staffed and if I don’t help, I’m afraid she won’t get what she needs. No, don’t do that, it’s your day off. I promise that it’s not a big deal to miss these classes. Oh, thanks, Mom, you’re the best.”

  Carly put away her phone and smiled at me.

  I smiled back at her. Even though it was embarrassing having Carly feed me and bathe me. I was nervous about her seeing my broken body if what I heard was correct and she was going to try to give me a bath. Even so, I was glad she would be staying for a few more hours.

  Carly picked up the silver dome covering the lunch plate. “Okay, let’s see what’s for lunch. Ick, I think it’s Salisbury steak. Do you like this stuff?” she asked.

  We hadn’t figured out a way for me to communicate I don’t know so I just stared at her.

  She looked back at me and it almost appeared as though a lightbulb went off in her head. “I get it, you don’t know, do you? Can you blink three times when it’s something you don’t know? So one blink for yes, two for no, and three for I don’t know. Okay?”

  I blinked once.

  “Let’s try that question again. Do you like Salisbury steak?”

  This time I blinked three times.

  She clapped her hands. “Great. This is like a new type of sign language. We can figure it out together. Okay, how about we try a few bites?”

  I blinked once and she offered me a forkful of the lunch concoction. I must have made a face after chewing the gravy laden morsel.

  “So, do you like Salisbury steak?” she asked.

  I blinked twice.

  She scrunched up her face and I thought how adorable she looked—like she was pondering the meaning of life. She grabbed her phone and winked at me as if we were co-conspirators in some grand scheme.

  “Yeah, I’d like to order a medium pizza with tomatoes, mushrooms and olives. No, wait.” She covered the phone with her hand. “Sorry, Belinda, I should have asked what you like on your pizza. Are tomatoes, mushrooms and olives okay with you?”

  I blinked once.

  She uncovered the phone and continued. “Um, yeah, that works. I just had to check with my friend to make sure that’s what she wanted. Brookside rehab center on Main Street, room one ten. Thanks, see you in thirty.”

  Carly pushed the button on her phone and giggled. “I think that the center can pay for pizza since I’m helping them out today, don’t you?”

  I blinked once and smiled. I had a vague recollection of Mom’s famous homemade pizza. For some reason the memory surfaced of this being one of the final meals before slipping into the prison of unconsciousness that had been my life for six years.

  †

  Almost like a set of binoculars adjusting until the view is clear, the memory came flooding back to me of that dinner before I slipped into the coma. I remember feeling as though I were swimming through a vat of Jell-O as awareness came slowly to me while I napped. Finally, I heard my mother calling for me.

  “Belinda, dinner’s ready,” Mom yelled.

  I shuffled down the stairs and greeted my mother, father, and two sisters. I yawned and sat down at my normal place at the table. Families always have specific place settings and mine was to the right of my mother and across from my little sister, Evie.

  No matter what after school activities my siblings were involved in, Mom insisted that everyone sit down as a family and enjoy the evening meal. It was the only non-negotiable rule. Unless I was too sick to join the family, Mom expected me to be at the dinner table when she was ready to serve whatever meal she’d cooked.

  I wasn’t hungry and I knew something was off but I wasn’t sick enough to miss the nightly ritual.

  Evie, my younger sister by two years, reached out and grabbed a piece of the homemade pizza, toppling a glass of Peps
i. The black fizzy liquid dripped onto my older sister, Fran’s lap.

  “Mom, look what Evie did?” Fran screeched.

  “Tattletale.” Evie stuck out her tongue.

  “Penisbreath,” Fran retorted.

  My dad coughed and placed his hand over his mouth as I watched him try to keep from laughing.

  My mom’s hazel eyes turned on Evie and Fran and she gave them the look. “Knock it off. I swear the two of you will be the death of me yet. I just felt four more of my hairs turn gray. Evie, get up and get your sister a towel please.” Mom turned her gaze at me. “Belinda, why aren’t you taking a slice? My pizza is your favorite.”

  I shrugged. “Not hungry.”

  Evie poked me in the arm as she went into the kitchen for a towel. “Faker. You just want to skip school tomorrow because there’s a big math test.”

  I wouldn’t normally let a comment like that slide, but I wasn’t in the mood to do verbal battle with my cantankerous little sister. I slumped in my chair and remained quiet.

  “Evie, I’m warning you.” Mom focused back on me. “Honey, are you still not feeling well?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay. Why don’t you go on up to your room and I’ll bring you some soup or something later on.”

  †

  A tear must have slipped from my eye.

  Carly was always very sensitive to my emotions and she noticed the tear right away. She gently brushed it away with her thumb. “Oh, Belinda, I wish I knew the cause of your sadness just now. Did ordering pizza jog a painful memory or something?”

  I blinked once.

  “I’m sorry. If I knew that it would make you sad, I would have thought of something else. We don’t have to have pizza. I can think of another option if you want. Should I order Chinese food or something?”

  I blinked twice.

  “You sure?”

  I blinked once. Even though communicating in yes, no, and I don’t know was frustratingly limited, Carly seemed to know what questions to ask. Almost from the very start, she was incredibly in tuned with my thoughts and feelings—almost as if she could read my mind.

  “Well, it looks like we have about thirty minutes to kill. I know if it were me, I would want to get cleaned up and have my hair washed. I’d like to help you with that if you don’t mind.”

  I blinked three times. I was mortally embarrassed to have Carly see my naked, deformed body. It was more than a humbling experience to have someone feed you, but having someone like Carly bathe me was devastating as I realized how helpless I really was.

  She stroked my cheek and I looked in her eyes to determine if there was pity or care in them. “Belinda, please don’t be embarrassed. Everyone needs a little help now and again. When I broke my arm, Mom had to help me. I know it’s awfully personal when someone has to help you bathe, but I swear I’m not trying to take advantage of you or anything. I’ll try to keep my lascivious eyes to myself. Even though you are a very beautiful girl—I swear my intentions are purely honorable. Can I help you?”

  I blinked once and smiled at her. She said I was beautiful. My heart beat rapidly in my chest. It meant the world to me that she didn’t view me as some horribly deformed creature like the hunchback of Notre Dame.

  Carly chattered away as she prepared to transfer me back to my bed. I assumed it was easier for her to bathe me in bed than tied to the chair. She could lay me down and put my head in this specially designed basin for washing hair and it would be easier for her to roll me.

  “Did you catch my use of the word lascivious? It means feeling or revealing an overt and often offensive sexual desire. I try to learn a new word every day and who knew I’d have an opportunity to use it right away. I think it’s kinda cool.” She chuckled.

  Either I was really light or she was really strong, because she picked me up and placed me on the bed without breaking a sweat. I suppose it was a combination of both. She left the room for a few seconds and I could hear the water running in the bathroom.

  I turned my head to the side and saw her carrying a yellow basin with a dip in the end. I presumed it was for where my neck would go. In her other hand she had a yellow pitcher. She gently lifted my head and placed my neck on the indent of the basin.

  “I have some warm water that I’m gonna pour over your head. Let me know if it’s too hot or too cold. Just blink once if it’s okay and twice if it’s not.”

  She poured a small amount of water on my hair and I blinked once. It felt good. She squeezed out a small amount of shampoo and began massaging my head as she washed my hair. I was in heaven. I never wanted her to stop. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of someone lovingly washing my hair. Her touch sent tingles down my spine and I experienced a strange sensation I’d never felt before. Even though all the previous experiences I remembered came from my ten year old brain, somehow my body went through the natural maturation process—hormones included. It was confusing and exciting all in the same breath. I was reminded of the movie, Big, where all of a sudden an adolescent found himself in the body of a thirty year old and he was expected to act like an adult.

  Carly hadn’t gotten to my bath yet. I didn’t quite understand at the time how things worked regarding my bodily functions. I just knew that I wasn’t urinating on my own or expelling other waste. Catheters were explained to me much later when they knew I could understand everything. However, I was aware of the foreign object attached to my body and I was embarrassed for Carly to see it. It was a grotesque reminder of my limitations. I must have frowned as Carly rinsed my hair in the basin.

  “I’m sorry, Belinda, did the water get too cold for you?” she asked.

  I blinked twice.

  As she was drying my hair, she seemed to contemplate my expression of concern. “How about if I just give you a partial bed bath? I’ll avoid your most private places. Would that be okay?”

  I took a few seconds to consider this new plan. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and make her think I was reticent because of her earlier confession about being gay. She just watched me carefully and eventually I blinked once. I’d given her permission to penetrate every barrier there was—real or imagined. I’d told her with one blink of my eye that I trusted her.

  After she emptied the basin with the soap and water used to wash my hair, she returned with a different yellow basin full of soapy water. Her touch was tentative as she carefully undid the buttons on my blouse and pushed the material aside. The material on the washcloth was slightly scratchy on my skin, but her gentle strokes were a welcome invasion. The funny sensation returned when she reached my breasts. My nipples had an immediate reaction to the cloth and Carly blushed when she noticed them. She avoided my eyes for a moment and I somehow knew—organically—that this was a very intimate moment. I didn’t want her to think that she was doing anything wrong so when she looked back at me, I smiled at her to let her know it was okay.

  She smiled back, but the blush continued to adorn her face. She was so beautiful, with or without the blush.

  Carly kept her promise and completely avoided the parts of my body that would reveal how utterly dependent I was on a medical device that would process my bodily waste. At least she wasn’t privy to the daily digital stimulation the nurses performed to ensure I had a successful bowel movement each day. She left the suprapubic catheter on my abdomen hidden even though I suspected she knew exactly where they had placed it. After she completed washing my arms, hands, legs and feet she put my clothes back on and transferred me back to my chair.

  I was beginning to gain more strength in my upper body and head, and for the first time since I’d awakened, I sat in my chair without the body restraint. She grabbed my hand again and began absently stroking it as we waited for our pizza. We were both lost in our own thoughts and for me the silence was comforting instead of awkward.

  I smelled the pizza before Mrs. Porter, the nurse, came strutting into the room with a huge smile on her face. “Well, girls, I just intercepted a young man who
was looking for room one ten. It appears someone ordered a pizza. I paid the boy because I expect you to save me a piece.” She winked at Carly.

  Carly giggled. “Thanks Mrs. P. I hope you like tomato, mushroom, and olive.”

  “Sure do. It’s my favorite.” The nurse set the pizza down on the dresser, picked up the lunch tray full of the brown glob of meat and gravy, and left, chuckling all the way to the door.

  Carly grabbed the pizza box and set it where the former lunch tray had resided. She grabbed a piece and grinned at me. “Be prepared for the best pizza in the world. This stuff is like gold.”

  She lifted the slice and I opened my mouth and took a decent sized bite. It wasn’t my mom’s homemade pizza, but it was pretty good and certainly the best meal I’d had in a long time. During the past three days, I hadn’t been exactly jumping for joy about the meals served at the rehab center.

  We left Nurse Porter several pieces of the pie and Carly started chatting away like we were two normal teenage girls sharing secrets. She talked, I blinked. I knew I wasn’t contributing much to the conversation, but she never made me feel like I wasn’t holding up my end of the discussion. She told me a little bit more about her family and I got the sense she was good at twenty questions, because she managed to zero in on essential questions that could be answered with a simple yes or no, yet helped her get to know me better. I felt like I had a best friend.

  The time went quickly and too soon she had to leave.

  Carly hugged me and let me know she would return the next day. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

  She winked at me and I smiled back to let her know that I liked her teasing. She was treating me like a real person and that meant the world to me.

  †

  I wasn’t really sure what prompted a visit from my parents, but I suspected it had something to do with Carly’s insistence that my rudimentary response to her simple questions was proof enough that an intelligent person lurked inside. Dr. Sullivan did say she was going to let my parents know about this recent development. I was hopeful.