Just a Little Bit Crazy

by T A Ford

  She looked up at him. “You do?”

  “Dancing in tap shoes for the first time? Yea. I think this is going to be a disaster.”

  “No it won’t. I was scared too the first time. But you forget that there are other people here. You can only hear the music. Pay attention to the Juarez guitar.”

  “Is that how you do it? Manage anxiety?” Cue asked.

  “I don’t have anxiety,” she looked surprised. Before he could respond, Marissa told them to line up. The guitarist walked in. Dina walked away to her designated spot. It kept her at a distance from the others, but in a good position to see the instructor. As soon as Marissa started the lesson, all thoughts of Carmen disappeared.

  Cue struggled. From the first step he stumbled, mis-clapped and bumped into the other students. After a while of forced practice he was frustrated enough to leave. Then he felt delicate feminine hands on his waist. He looked back to see Dina smiling at him.

  “I can help,” she assured him.

  He stepped to the left and then to the right and stopped with her instruction. She turned him and he faced her willingly. They practiced three steps and then an abrupt turn into a pose. After repeating her instruction he found himself able to manage a rhythm that was all his own. More importantly, he enjoyed the way she was awkward with him in the instruction. It was genuine, almost pure. They laughed when they bumped into each other, smiled when they didn’t. By the end of class, she was babbling to him about everything.

  “So I went back and told them that it’s the red dye in candy that causes cancer. You know? They should take it out of selections for children when they come in to make their own yogurts or whatever.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said.

  “Let me tell you. I know many things that cause cancer, but this one is overlooked. I read up on the subject,” Dina said.

  “Did you?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Erythrosine is what it’s called. The most controversial dye in candy is the red dye. You know they still use it in popsicles and skittles? Oh, it’s very potent in maraschino cherries too. Red is a bad color.”

  “I never thought about it,” Cue sat down on the bench, enthralled. The instructor said goodbye to the students and the guitarist headed to the elevator. They were the last to leave. Dina stared out at the storm with trepidation in her eyes.

  “Red is an ugly color too. Think about it. It’s the color of blood. And it’s the color of pain. It means stop and danger. People don’t think of these things, but I do.”

  “Why do you think of the ugliness in the world?”

  “It’s in the lipstick too...” she kept on. She began to mumble to herself, watching something beyond the window that he didn’t see. Her ramblings became more personal to her. He observed in silence for a while. He waited for her to invite him into the conversation again before he spoke.

  “Okay, time to go,” Marissa sang to them both.

  “We’ll be down in a minute. If that’s okay?”

  Marissa glanced from him and then to Dina. “Well, no, it isn’t. We’re closing.”

  He gave her a pleading smile.

  She paused and then nodded. “We have to close, so ten more minutes, please come down soon.”

  The lights flickered on and off. Cue looked up. Marissa did as well. Dina didn’t seem to notice. It was maybe the fourth time that evening they had done so. Marissa looked hesitant to leave them. She felt protective toward Dina as well, or maybe had some misplaced interest in him. Either way, she lingered. But when Dina went on and on about the danger in the color red she gave up and headed to the elevator.

  “Red is also the color of fire. Yellow too, but mostly you see red. Oh, I almost forgot. Did you know that science has proven if you stare at red too long it enhances the human metabolism? Seriously. Not in a good way. Go on, google it. I swear it’s true. If you stare at the color too long it increases your respiration rate and blood pressure. Google it!” she insisted.

  Cue removed his phone and googled it. She was right. But he knew she would be. She didn’t read over a thousand books to be wrong.

  “See? Do you understand now?”

  “Yes. What color do you like?”

  “Huh?” she asked.

  Thunder clapped so loud and so close the vibration rattled the window. The lights blinked off, remaining dark for a moment, and then blinked on. Dina rushed over to her things. She gathered them frantically and hurried to the elevator. She kept mumbling a word under her breath. It sounded like ‘knee’ to him, but he wasn’t sure. She was at the elevator, repeatedly pushing the button. Cue picked up his tap shoes and followed her. He hated wearing the damn things on his feet. He’d rather walk barefoot.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Stop talking. Be quiet. When we were kids my mom would make me and Rodney be very quiet and sit still in the dark when it was lightening. So hush.”

  The storm clapped again. He was also surprised by the ferocity of the lightning. He glanced to the emergency EXIT stairwell and for a moment thought it would be best to take the stairs down three flights instead of waiting. But the elevator arrived. Immediately Dina rushed inside. He saw the first glimmer of stress relief on her face. Cue walked in and Dina pressed the door ‘close’ button repeatedly then the lower level button.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Before she answered the elevator jerked, descended and stopped. The electricity went out completely.

  “Wait... what... what’s happening?” she asked looking around.

  A red emergency light bathed the elevator in a red glow.

  “What’s happening!” She looked up and around. The timing and color of the emergency beacon couldn’t be worse.

  “It’ll come back on in a minute,” he said to assure her.

  “What’s happening!” Dina yelled. She shut her eyes. She dropped her things. “What’s happening?”

  Cue tried the emergency button. The buzzer sounded off like a siren. Dina kept shouting “What’s happening?” over and over. He pressed the intercom button. A person immediately answered. “Hi, ah, we’re stuck in the elevator at the Flamenco Dance Academy...”

  “We know, sir. We have paged the maintenance worker for the building. Please stay calm.”

  Cue looked over to Dina. She was now pushed up against the wall, gasping for air.

  “That’s not easy to do, unfortunately.”

  Chapter Six

  Surviving the Storm

  The world. The world is coming apart. Dina pressed herself hard against the elevator wall. She could barely capture a breath. The rapid thundering of her heart in her chest was a physical pain. It constricted her breathing. Closing her eyes and sipping at air didn’t help. The impending doom of her suffocation was so clear and present she felt a numb tingling in her hands and limbs. Sweat covered her face and dripped from her chin. It ran like tears down her jawline and neck. Shaking profusely, she grabbed her arms and squeezed herself all the while trying to breathe. Then the worst happened: the dizziness came. She was going to faint or overheat. She wasn’t sure. But something was coming.

  “Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney...” she chanted.

  The doctor approached her with caution. His voice was muffled and sounded far away. “You’re doing fine Dina. You’re doing great. I’m right here with you.” The words drawled out of his mouth.

  “Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney....” she chanted.

  Cue got as close as he believed she could tolerate. He was careful to not touch her. This incident was like many others he’d seen and managed in his career. However, in the past, the patients had just been patients. In those cases he took a very clinical approach to resolving the crises. Dina felt different. She was sweet, genuine and extremely frightened. He wanted to throw his teachings out and just hold her in his arms until she relaxed.

  “I’m so proud of you right now,” he said as he kept his tone calm and even. “Breathing is important
. Who taught you that?”

  “Rodney,” she managed.

  “Good. Good. You’re doing great. You can do this,” he said.

  “Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney....” she wept. “I can’t breathe.” She grabbed her throat. “I’m dying.”

  “I’m a doctor. Can I help you? Can I touch you?”

  “I can’t breathe!” she started gagging and gurgling. Her eyes stretched so wide he feared they’d pop out of their sockets. He took her hands. The gesture went against his training. Contact should be initiated by her. But he feared a severe physical attack for her was looming. “Can you count.”

  “I can’t breathe!” she choked out.

  “Count,” he outshouted her. “With me. To ten. Count. Let’s begin. Count. One. Say it. One. Say it Dina! Now.”

  “One...” she coughed

  “Two...” he said.

  “Two...” she whimpered.

  “Three...” they said together.

  “Four...” they said together.

  “Five...” they said together.

  “Six...” the said together.

  Cue pulled her slowly toward him and out of the corner of the elevator.

  “Seven...” they said together.

  “Eight...” they aid together.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her body to his. There was nothing but comfort shared between them. A panic attack of this level required physical support as well. He rubbed her back to reassure her. “You’re doing fine.”

  “Nine,” she said. “Ten.”

  “Keep counting,” he reminded her.

  “Eleven,” she said.

  He kept her close to him. She was beginning to breathe through her anxiety in a normal fashion. He counted with her until she was counting alone. She went all the way to thirty before she was able to let go of him.

  “I don’t want to die,” she said through her sobs. “It felt like I was dying.”

  “I don’t want you to die,” he assured her, careful not to dismiss her feelings of danger. He kept her grounded by staying in the panic with her. “We need to practice breathing. That keeps us strong. Right?”

  “Breathe,” she agreed.

  “In through your nose,” he said softly. “Out through your mouth.”

  She inhaled slow and exhaled in the same manner.

  “Keep breathing,” he repeated.

  She did as instructed. He rubbed her back.

  “Rodney, Rodney, Rodney...” she mumbled with her eyes tightly shut.

  “Is he your brother?”

  She nodded her head.

  “He protects you?” Cue asked.

  She nodded her head again.

  “Pretend he’s here. Protecting you.”

  She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled again nice and slow.

  “You’re safe, Dina. Focus on Rodney. Think about the last thing he said to make you laugh recently?”

  “I don’t know?”

  “When was the last time he made you laugh?” Cue asked.

  “This morning,” she groaned, and then whimpered. The thunder could be heard in the elevator.

  “How?”

  “Huh?”

  “How did he make you laugh?”

  “He got confused,” she said.

  “Doing what exactly?”

  “He likes sugar. He puts sugar in his coffee. Every morning. Keurig makes the coffee and he puts in sugar in his mug.”

  “And?” he said rubbing her back slow and firm.

  “I clean. I organize. I switched shakers. Needed salt in shaker not sugar. He put salt in the coffee.”

  Cue chuckled.

  Dina smiled.

  “He drank a swallow and gagged. He spit it all over the floor.” She pushed away from him. “He sprayed it everywhere. He was coughing and burping. I’m sorry. It’s not funny. But it’s so funny.” She laughed. Cue watched as she recovered. “At first I didn’t know why he did it. So I panicked. I rushed to give him some paper towels. He was hopping around in his underwear from foot to foot. He couldn’t speak cause of his tongue. And I was on my knees wiping up his spit. He didn’t see me, so he turned to run to the sink and tripped. He flipped over and somehow... somehow,” she laughed. “He landed flat on my back with his feet up.” Dina laughed until she bent over and tears of joy sprung to her eyes. “We lay there laughing. He told me the coffee tasted like shit. We didn’t know why. I later figured it out though. I put salt in the shaker. And salt in coffee tastes like shit.”

  “That sounds like a costly mistake.”

  She nodded and stood upright. She looked at him smiling, and then that joy fled. She looked around the small elevator, her face morose. “I can’t stay in here. I cannot! I see red everywhere.”

  “Dina,” he said.

  “Nooooo... I got to get out of here,” she begged.

  “Hey? Look at me. Can you do that?”

  “Nooooo.”

  “Please. Just for a minute,” he pleaded.

  She looked up at him.

  “How long were you happy?”

  “What?”

  “A few minutes ago, how long did you laugh and feel happiness? Think about it. A few seconds and you were the happiest I’ve ever seen you,” he said.

  “You don’t know me. I’ve been happy before.”

  He nodded. “True, and since I’ve met you, you talked about pizza and red food dye.”

  He smiled.

  She didn’t.

  “My point is, emotion and feelings, all of it—happiness, sadness, fear, anxiety, pleasure, all of it—they don’t last forever. Each time you feel something, there is an expiration to that feeling until it comes around again. At some point it ends and another emotion begins. You’re scared. You can be scared. But the fear won’t last. Survival typically follows. Now if we practice, you’ll learn to control your emotions. Right?”

  She nodded. “Counting?”

  “You count for me sweetheart, while I call the emergency line again and try to get us out of here.”

  She began counting. He got on his knees and pressed the intercom button at the bottom of the other keys. The person answered immediately. “We’ve been in here for ten minutes. I need to get us out of here soon.”

  “Yes, sir, the mechanic is there with the building supervisor. The storm has caused a power outage on the street. But there is an emergency system that could bring you to the next floor and open the door. We are working on it.”

  “How long?” he glanced up at Dina.

  “Soon sir. Very soon.”

  “What is it? Will they rescue us?” she asked.

  “Yes. Now. Can you do something else for me?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Sit?”

  “Why? No, I can’t do that. The floor is dirty. Germs from people feet.”

  “If you sit, you don’t feel the constriction of the space. If you sit, there is more space to breathe.”

  She slowly sat. She looked up. He could see relief all over her face. She nodded that she felt better. She then frowned at him. “What kind of doctor are you?”

  “I’m a psychiatrist,” he said.

  Dina closed her eyes and tried to breathe as he reminded her to do so. He reached to touch her and she scooted away. “Don’t touch me! Don’t come near me!”

  “I apologize.”

  “Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, Rodney...” she chanted in a very low voice with control. Her brother’s name remained her coping mechanism. And he let her have it. She rocked back and forth with her arms fastened around her knees and head bowed. She said her brother’s name repeatedly for the next seven minutes, and then the elevator jerked to life. Dina screamed at the top of her lungs. Cue stood. Slowly the elevator began to descend. He extended a hand to Dina, who looked at it through her tears with deep concern for a minute, then accepted it with understanding. He helped her stand. And like magic the entire ordeal ended. She rushed out of the elevator first. They were
greeted by two men he didn’t recognize, Marissa, and a maintenance man were present. They all looked concerned for Dina. An episode of this nature had to have occurred in some fashion before.

  “She’s okay. Thank you,” he said to everyone.

  “Dina? Honey are you sure?” Marissa touched Dina’s arm.

  “Please don’t touch me,” she said and walked rapidly to the changing room. Marissa went after Dina. Cue was quick to stop her.

  “Let her have some privacy. She will be fine.”

  “Oh, you don’t understand. She has some kind of learning disability, a little retarded or something. We take care of her.”

  Shocked, his mouth gaped. He quickly recovered. “I do understand. I’m a doctor. Leave her alone,” Cue warned.

  Marissa gave him a scowl and stormed away.

  Cue went to the men’s changing room and got dressed as fast as he could. It wasn’t fast enough. When he came out, he was alone in the building with the maintenance men. Dina had disappeared into the storm.

  “RODNEY?” DINA SAID.

  Her brother looked up from his work. Dina was at his office door. He usually kept it closed when he didn’t want to be disturbed. He smiled to see her. “Hey. How was your class?”

  She stared at her brother, wanting to tell him all of it. But she knew her episode would only make him worry. She couldn’t let him down. More importantly, she couldn’t let him think that she wouldn’t overcome her struggles. To do so could land her in the mental hospital.

  “Dina? You okay?”

  “Yea, class was good. I, uh, it’s raining really hard. A storm.”

  “I texted you. I was worried. You sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded her answer. “Are you hungry? Can I fix you something to eat?”

  He gave her a sheepish smile. “Sheila is coming over tonight. She’s bringing takeout. I could tell her to order you something?”

  Dina’s heart dropped. She wanted more than anything to spend the night watching Hulu with her brother while eating some leftovers.

  “No. I bought a new book. I was going to head up to bed to read.”

  Rodney scratched his head. “Ah, Dina. Sweetheart. I saw your room. You got about sixty books in there.”