“These episodes are only going to grow more frequent and more violent. You’re already a danger to yourself and others.”
My chest tightened. “So you’re going to keep me here forever?”
“I told you when you first came here I want you to get better. That means facing some things you don’t want to. If you don’t, you will eventually hurt someone. Maybe even kill them. There is a very good chance that someone could be Roy.”
“Just let me paint. When I paint, it goes away.”
“It doesn’t. I promise. You’re telling a story in those paintings you create, but no one can understand what you’re saying but you.”
“Roy understands.”
“That may be, but he’s not enough. I think you know that. I think every brushstroke you put to canvas is a cry for help. This secret you’re hiding is eating you alive.” He stood.
“Can I go back to my room?”
“No.”
“How long will you keep me here?”
“Until you’re ready to work with me and tell me what’s made you so angry.”
“What if I don’t know?”
“Oh, you know.” He headed to the door. I sat up to go after him, but my feet and legs floated beyond my control. “Until you talk to me, there will be no paints, no TV, no private bathroom. No privileges of any kind.”
“Roy is supposed to call.”
“I’ll keep him informed about what’s going on.”
“You won’t let me talk to him?”
“No, I won’t.”
“Please don’t do this.”
“I’m sorry it has to be this way. And know that when you’re ready to talk, I’ll listen.”
The sound of the door closing echoed a death knell through the room. I crawled out of the bed, but the drugs had stripped the connection between my brain and body. My legs buckled, and I tried to catch myself with my hands. My one arm was in the sling, and the other was about as effective as a rubber band. I collapsed and had just enough time to roll to the side before my face smashed into the ground.
I inched my way across the floor. Half the time, I wasn’t even sure if I actually made any progress.
When I got to the door, I jiggled the knob. Locked. And the only window was a long narrow strip covered with mesh. I’d been a fool to come here. Dr. Carmichael would never let me leave. Roy would call, and Dr. Carmichael would give him some excuse. How many times would he believe it before he gave up?
A sob broke out of my chest.
I had to find some way to tell Roy what was happening. He’d help me. He wouldn’t let them lock me up like this. He understood the paintings. He saw why I had to create them.
I just needed a phone.
Even if I could get back to my room, I wouldn’t be able to dial out. I needed access to an outside line. The only place I’d find something like that was Carmichael’s office or the nurse’s station.
But first, I had to get out.
********
After four days in lockdown, a few orderlies escorted me to a tiled room for a bath. To keep the sling dry, there was only a few inches of water in the tub.
The poor nursing assistant assigned to me couldn’t have been a week on the job. I must have been the talk of the mental ward with the way he jumped if I so much as breathed hard.
After he dropped the soap for the tenth time, I took the sponge out of his hand. “Please let me. I’d like to get this over with before the water frosts over.”
“Sorry.”
I lathered up the sponge. “How long have you been here?”
The bar slipped out of my hold two times, and then three. As soon as I picked it back up, it shot out of my hand and landed on the floor.
The nursing assistant retrieved it for me. “Two weeks.”
I scrubbed my bad shoulder, my chest, and my legs. I couldn’t reach my other arm. “Here.” I gave back the sponge. “Do you mind?”
His hand shook as he brushed the sponge over my skin.
“You’re going to have to scrub harder than that.”
“Sorry, I just didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Why, because you think I’ll hurt you back?”
He looked away.
“Jesus, what kind of shit do they talk about around here?”
“You broke a man’s nose.”
“So?”
“Fractured another orderly’s skull.”
“Worse happens in a bar fight.”
“Yeah, but both of them outweigh you by a hundred pounds each.”
“Lightweights. Should have seen what I did to the lion, tiger, and bear.”
He stopped washing.
“It’s a joke.” I slapped at the water. “I feel like a kid.”
“Just trying to keep the sling dry.”
“Second time I’ve had a hurt arm.” I examined the sling through the plastic bag wrapped around it.
“How did it happen the first time?”
“I slipped down the steps.” With some help from Julia.
“Sorry to hear that.” The nursing assistant put the sponge aside. “Stand up please.”
I grabbed the handrail to pull myself up only to lose my grip and slop water out over his shoes.
“Fucking soap.” I rubbed my thumb and finger together. Like the colors that formed one of my paintings, the feel of that soap formed a plan.
“Here, I’ll rinse you off.”
“Actually…I’d like to wash some more.”
“You’re clean.”
“Not clean enough. I’ve been sitting in that room for days with only toilet paper and a sink. I’d like another going over.”
“Mr. Duvoe, I promise you, you’re clean.” He smiled at me. I didn’t smile back. “I really need to get you back to your room.”
“I really need another bath.”
“Sir.”
I held out my hand. “Give me the fucking soap.”
He handed it over.
“Help me stand.”
“But—” I glared, and he pulled me up.
This was completely insane. But considering where I was, why not go with the flow? I scrubbed the soap over my body until I was coated in an oily white film the consistency of melted butter.
“Here, do my other arm.”
“Shouldn’t you sit—”
“Shut up and lather me up.” He did, losing his grip on the soap twice. When I was head to knees in slime, I said, “Towel.”
He picked it up. “Shouldn’t you rinse?”
“Put it on the floor.”
“Please—”
“Put the damn towel on the floor before I test the thickness of your skull.”
He threw the towel down. I stepped out and scrubbed my feet on it until they were dry.
“Mr. Duvoe, you really should get back in the—”
“Open the door.” I would have done it myself, but my hands were coated in soap.
“Sir?”
I turned on him, and he shrank back, tripping over the stool he’d been sitting on and landed on his ass. Water soaked through his blue scrubs, turning them dark around his thighs.
I almost laughed. “Open the door.”
He scrambled to his feet.
“Please, Mr. Duvoe…”
I drew my lips back over my teeth.
The nurse’s aide made a mad dash out of the room to get away.
One of the meatheads looked inside, and that’s when I rushed him. He made a grab but lost his hold. Another tried to wrap me in a hug, and I dropped to my knees, shooting out of his grip like the bar of soap. The third one didn’t get the chance to try for me. He stepped down on a streak of bubbles, lost his balance, and slammed into the wall.
My feet slid for a moment but it was only water. I got traction and ran down the hall. The nurse’s station was just ahead. I’d never get past them and into the main wing. But I didn’t need to get past. I just needed to get inside. I yanked the lever on a fire alarm mounted to the wall, and an e
lectronic wail sent the nurses into a frenzy.
One of the women opened the door while the other one called out on the radio. At a full run, I dropped into a slide, heading right for the opening. My bad shoulder caught the corner of the doorjamb, and everything grayed out. I fought against the rise of nausea and blurred senses. If I passed out, I’d never get out of this hell.
The nurse tried to block the doorway. I knocked her feet out from under her, and she came down on top of me. She threw herself to the side and scurried out the door. I jammed my foot in the opening and slithered inside.
The door shut, and I slumped against it. The second nurse stood in the corner. She held up her hand as if to ward me off. I grabbed a chair to pull myself up and couldn’t find traction.
“You can go,” I said. She kept staring. “Get the fuck out of here.”
She ran for the door.
“Slow down, or you’ll…”
Just as she yanked open the door, she slipped. Her scream was muffled by the thick Plexiglas. The office door couldn’t be opened from the outside without a key, but there was a dead bolt on the inside so I engaged it. I guess it was a safety measure in case one of the patients acquired a card. Escape by soap probably never crossed their minds.
I wiggled across the room on my ass to keep from meeting the same fate as the fleeing nurse. When I got to the desk, I pulled down the phone and dialed Roy’s cell. After a half dozen rings, it went to voice mail. I hung up and dialed again.
There was a click. “Roy?”
“Paris?”
“Listen, I don’t have much time.”
“Dr. Carmichael said he had you on lockdown.”
“He does. Did. Just listen. I need you to come get me. He won’t let me out.”
“You hurt three people.”
“He’s the one who wouldn’t let me paint. Please, Roy. I gotta get out of here.”
“He’s trying to help you.”
I clenched the receiver. “Whatever he’s told you isn’t true.”
“So you didn’t hurt anyone?”
“Yes. No. I mean… It was an accident. Please, Roy, I need you to come get me.”
“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I can’t do that.”
“What?”
“I can’t come get you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Won’t.”
“You said you cared about me.” My throat tightened.
“I do.”
“Then help me.”
“I am helping you.”
“Helping me means getting me out of this shit hole.”
“Dr. Carmichael wants you to get better.”
“He doesn’t want me better.”
“Yes, he does.”
“Then why won’t he let me paint? Huh? Tell me. Why won’t the son of a bitch let me paint?”
“It’s for the best.”
Fists pounded on the Plexiglas. Carmichael stared down at me with a hard expression.
I gave him my back and curled over the receiver. “Roy, if you really care about me, if you love me even the smallest amount, please, please help me. I have to paint. I have to get this out of me. You’ve seen it. You know how ugly it is.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen it. That’s why I know you need this. And because I love you, I’m not going to come get you out.”
I hissed through gritted teeth. “You bastard.”
“Paris…”
“You fucking bastard.”
“Please, I don’t want you to be angry.”
“Angry? They don’t even make a word for what I am. You set me up. All of you set me up. Are you trying to kill me? Is that what you want?”
“You know it isn’t.”
Dr. Carmichael knocked on the window. “Paris, don’t make me have to cut the lock.”
“What’s going on?” Roy said.
“Nothing.”
“Where is Dr. Carmichael? I’d like to talk to him.”
“He’s busy.”
“Paris…”
“Go fuck yourself, Roy.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You’re upset. I can understand—”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I do mean it. Every word.”
His breath shuddered.
“Are you crying, Roy? I hope you are. I hope you choke on your tears.”
“I…”
“Fuck you. Fuck. You. Don’t call. Don’t come see me. Stay the hell out of my life. I don’t need you. I don’t want you.” I slammed the receiver down. The plastic was so cold against my hand. The hate I wanted to feel toward Roy didn’t happen. What filled me instead was fear. Roy had betrayed me. He’d left me here to rot. He never loved me. It was a lie. Everything was a lie.
Especially me.
Dr. Carmichael kept knocking on the glass. Saying something. I don’t know what. I couldn’t have heard him even if I wanted to. My world had become void. I existed nowhere. I was no one.
********
I stared at the pockmarked ceiling with no strength to move, no strength to eat or drink, no strength to breathe.
Yet I continued to live. My body as much of a Judas as Julia, Dr. Carmichael, and now Roy.
The rabbit sat on my chest and regarded me with soulful eyes.
“This is all your fault.”
The rabbit washed its face.
“Everything. All of it. It’s your fault.”
It hunkered down, and its whiskers tickled my chin.
“I hate you.” I rolled over, and it waited for me on my pillow. “You’re a waste of air.”
It stretched out beside me. It smelled of alfalfa, dust, and of years past.
I scratched the side of the rabbit’s face with a finger. Its eyelids slid lower.
“I’m all alone. Really alone.”
It shook its head, and its ears slapped against the back of my hand. The rabbit licked his paws.
”He wants me to tell him.”
It stopped.
“But if I do, it will wake up the monster.”
The rabbit hopped away, disappearing from sight. I rolled over to my other side, and it sat by the door.
“I can’t leave, stupid.”
It hopped a few steps.
“Just go away. I don’t want you here either.”
It cleaned its face.
I rolled to my back and shut my eyes. Patterns of color danced in the darkness, moving, forming shapes, and fluttering away.
A weight pressed down on my chest.
“I told you to leave.”
The rabbit hunkered down until it resembled a loaf of bread.
“I don’t know how to tell him without making any noise.”
It leaned over me and cocked its head. My face reflected in its liquid eyes.
“I need to paint. If I don’t…” I fondled its ears. “It’s all I know.” It nuzzled my palm. “No paint, remember?”
The rabbit sank its teeth into my thumb.
I shot upright, and it tumbled away. “Fucking bastard.” I stuck my thumb into my mouth, but it wouldn’t stop throbbing. When I took it out, the gash across the middle filled up and dripped from my nail. The bright red droplets made carnations on the hospital gown. Red. A beautiful color. It was one of my favorites and often dominated my works. Even the Blue Crucifixion was spiced with the hue.
The rabbit sat up on its hind legs over by the window. Light from the narrow window cut a swath across the wall. They kept the lights off at night, but there was enough from the street lamp outside for me to see.
“Yeah, okay.”
I staggered to my feet.
I smeared a line of crimson across the field of white. In the shadows, it turned black. With no other colors, the secret would be forced to the surface for everyone to see.
“You’re sure you want me to tell him what we saw?” Julia would be pissed. She’d lock me away. But Julia couldn’t hurt me anymore, and I was already as locked away as
a person could get.
The flow of blood trickled to nothing. The rabbit put its paw on my foot. It was right, we had nothing to lose.
“Fine.”
Under the setting sun, everything bled orange and gold. He had to go home soon, and I didn’t want him to leave. He held my hand, and we slipped into the darkness of the shed.
I turned on the light, and we stood there in the open space surrounded by tools and kept company by the rabbit in its hutch.
As a man, I wondered if a boy could fall in love. As a boy, I already knew the answer.
The boy kissed me. Or maybe I kissed him. Either way, our lips met, and his hand tightened in mine. It was only a few seconds, barely a moment. And then the door flew open.
I didn’t recognize Harrison at first because his face had contorted into a mass of rage and his eyes belonged to an animal. No. Not an animal. Something else. Something evil and stinking of hell.
He came at me, and the boy pushed me to the side. I crawled on hands and knees behind the crate leaning against the workbench. I expected the boy to run, but he got in Harrison’s way.
It only took one punch to send the boy to the ground. A dust cloud puffed up around him thick enough to coat my nostrils when I inhaled. The flurry of movement spooked the rabbit. Around and around, it fled what it could not escape.
Blood coated the boy’s face, and black lines of dirt distorted his features. His gaze was dulled, but I know he saw me. A kick to his side sent him over. I didn’t think Harrison came in with the intention of raping anyone. I think it just happened. Like some involuntary muscle movement. He just did it without really realizing it.
When it was over, he stared down at the boy with a look of horror on his face.
But it was done, and it could not be undone.
Tears cut clean streaks through the dirt on the boy’s face. Pain made his skin pale, and there was nothing but fear in his eyes. He reached out to me. He was so close. I could have touched his hand. Instead, I withdrew deeper into the shadows.
Harrison grabbed a hammer off the workbench, but the claw caught the edge of the rabbit hutch and it toppled over.
I think the boy knew he was going to die. I think I knew too. I could have run to find help. I could have screamed for Harrison to stop. I could have at least comforted the boy.
Instead, I watched it happen in the very same way the rabbit watched me tell the secret that had boiled inside me for almost two decades.
Complementary Colors Page 31