by J. R. Tate
“The caseworker is on her way.” Dr. Hocutt speaks to Beatrice, and then turns his attention to me. “I’m not a mental health professional, but I suggest you tell the caseworker everything you know. We’re doing this because we care.”
I want to spit in his face, but I resist it. Being hostile will just be another strike against me, and I’m at bat with two already. One more swing and my ass is back to Sunset Canyon – and back to being zapped like a bug.
The frustrating part is that I know everything is out of my hands and no one is on my side. I’m alone and ready to give up. After trying to live a normal life and ending right back at square one, what’s the point? My only hope is my medical records from last time, and without Dr. Clint still on staff, I’m not sure if they’ll be credible.
***
Rusty
I overhear a couple of guys walking away from my dad’s room, talking about hating to have patients on suicide watch. I’m not the smartest kid, but I know they’re referring to him. I want to get back to him, but there’s too much risk, so I slip out of the side door and away from the nurse’s station. They know I’m alone. They know I’m a minor. It doesn’t take a genius to put it together.
I still have my dad’s truck keys in my pocket, and I hurry to the ER parking where I left it the night before. With no license, I drive cautiously. The last thing I need to happen is to get pulled over by a grumpy ass cop. He’ll question where my parents are, and all it’ll take is one phone call to realize my dad’s on his way to the nuthouse and I’m alone. I’ll end up in the system so fast that I won’t even know where I’m at.
Merging on the freeway, I also notice I have his cell phone. Damn. It was my only chance to communicate with him, but they probably took all of his belongings away. I try not to let this get the best of me. I know my dad isn’t crazy. I know that him almost drowning at the pond means he got a visit – a much more physical visit, which means the ghosts are getting more hostile due to him ignoring them. The only problem is, I’m not sure what I can do. They’ll never believe me if I go marching in, telling the workers his story. Best case scenario – they’ll put me on suicide watch right beside him. Father and son schizophrenics – it’ll be a show on TV and we’ll be the main attraction.
I exit toward our highway and brush aside any fears I’m feeling – I’ve got to try and help him, though I don’t even know where to begin. Hershel Roberts, my creepy neighbor, is waiting by the front steps of my porch when I pull up. I have no time to deal with him right now, so I get out of the truck and try to hurry past him, hoping he gets the hint, but of course, he doesn’t.
“Where you off to in a hurry?” I notice the wooden cane he’s holding in his hand. He tosses it back and forth, never taking his eyes off me.
“What’s it to you?” Glaring at him, I try to push past. He’s standing between me and my house, and I’m very close to calling the cops, only that would be a bad idea too. The less involved, the better.
“I saw an ambulance down here yesterday. Been coming by to check on you but no one has been home until now. I assume it was your dad?”
“It’s none of your business,” I spat back. “You need to leave.”
“It’s the pond, isn’t it?”
A chill courses through me. “How did you know that?”
“That pond has taken more lives than I can count. I know you’ve run across that grave back there. Little Lenora. She fell in. Just an infant, so no one really knows how she got back there. And her dad, Albert – claimed his life too. They say it was suicide. Said he couldn’t handle the death of his baby.”
I’m not sure what to say to him. He’s scary as hell, but he seems to know his history of this place. “So the pond is haunted?”
Hershel shakes his head and laughs. “You are so innocent. Both you and your dad. This whole damn highway is haunted. Just think about it. Six-Thirteen.”
“It’s the highway number, yeah.”
“Think about it, kid.” I do, but he doesn’t give me much of a chance to come up with my own realization. “Six for the devil. Thirteen for bad luck. Put them together and you’ve got double the problem. No one ever seems to realize it until it’s too late.”
“That’s just over-analyzing it.” I try to put up a front, but he sees right through me. “Besides, there’s more to our story than this highway. Stuff I can’t get into with you.”
“Your dad has the gift, doesn’t he?” Hershel’s eyes go black as he takes a step off the porch, allowing me access if I want it, but I stay there. He has me intrigued.
“The gift?” I ask, my voice cracking.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You have it too. Just a glimmer right now, but it’s getting there. Looks like he passed it down to you.”
“Gift is the wrong word to use.”
“No, it’s not. You have a chance to rid these souls. To get them gone so people can live here with no fear anymore. They’ve all been around here forever, hoping someone comes along to free them. And along came the Gallagher family. Yet you’re making it worse. I’ve seen them angry, but never like this. They tried to drown your father. Now why would they do that to someone who can help them?”
I think about this and it’s a good question. “They never intended on drowning him.”
“How do you figure?” Hershel asks.
“If they wanted him dead, they would’ve easily done it. They had him right where they wanted. They didn’t go through with it because it’s a wake up call. The more he… the more we ignore them, the worse it’s going to get. They want our attention, and they have it now.”
Hershel nods and smiles, walking farther away from the house. “You’re a smart kid, Rusty. Where’s your dad right now?”
I debate on telling him. I’m still not sure I can trust this man, nor would my father want his business out there to a perfect stranger. Instead, I go up the stairs and pause at the door. “He’s not here, but he will be soon.”
I hope I’m right. I need his help now more than ever. He’s honed his craft – he knows how to engage these ghosts. For me, it’s a small shimmer of one running down the hall, or a quick glimpse in the corner of my eye. I’m not good at keeping my mind open, at least, not yet.
“What are you going to do?” Hershel asks.
“I’m going to practice.” I don’t give him a chance to respond and slam the door behind me. It’s time to train my mind to have a full conversation with one.
Chapter Eight
Nathan
It feels like an eternity, and the caseworker still hasn’t shown up. I know one thing is certain – I have to get out of here. I yank on the handcuffs and as expected, they’re not budging. The only option I’d have is to take the bed apart, but they have literally taken everything out of the room. No phone, no remote for the TV, not even sheets on the bed. I know they are watching my every move – there is a camera in the far corner.
I shift my weight as best as I can, and the nasal cannula falls from my nose. I don’t even bother putting it back in. It’s like a small victory even though I know it isn’t doing much for me anyway. A young nurse I haven’t seen before comes in and checks my vitals. She seems a bit nervous and naïve, and I try to come up with a way to use it to my advantage.
“Where’s Beatrice?” I ask, and she looks up from her stethoscope, a smile parting her lips as she writes down my numbers.
“Her shift is over. She went home for the evening.”
That’s a small bit of luck for me – this girl seems much less experienced. “So I’m stuck with you for the next twelve hours?” I try to turn on the charm. I haven’t flirted with a woman in a while, but it’s like riding a bike.
“You are, Mr. Gallagher.”
“I guess that’s not such a bad thing, is it?” She looks down at me and I wink. Her cheeks blush and she turns to the clipboard again, jotting something down. “Say, you think I might be able to take a piss soon? Feels like I’ve been holding it forever.”<
br />
“I’ll see if I can get a bed pan for you.” She notices the nasal cannula and puts it back in my nose.
“A bed pan?” I wrinkle my nose. “Can’t I get up and whiz like a big boy?” I pour it on thick, hoping she takes the bait.
“I’ll have to check. Rules are a bit different in your situation. Do you need anything before I leave?”
“No. But don’t take too long. I might piss in the bed and then you’ll have a nice mess to clean up.”
“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” She smiles again, and if I were to guess, I’d bet she was barely twenty-one. I feel guilty, trying to take advantage of her like this, but it’s survival of the fittest. Each second that passes is a step away from freedom, back to Sunset Canyon where I’ll become just another person locked away, the sheer lock up alone making me crazy. I’d rather be dead.
The door opens again and I say, “That was fast…” but stop when I see a woman in a suit with a name badge enter. She’s not the young nurse, and she’s not someone I want to talk to.
“What was fast, Nathan?” She sits in a chair near me, but keeps a safe distance, as if I’ll lash out and kill her with my free hand.
“Nothing.”
“My name is Carla Ward and I’m with the State Mental Health Authority. I’ve been looking through your old case file. I see you worked with a Dr. Clint last time you were institutionalized?”
“The only time I was institutionalized.” I correct her. “And yes, he was my primary therapist.” I think about Dr. Carson with the department, and how I’ve been seeing her. She seems to think I am seeing ghosts too, or she’s playing along. She’s a last resort – I’m not going to involve anything with the fire department if I don’t have to. She’s not someone I can fully trust yet anyway.
She clicks her pen open and writes. I swear, it’s a requirement for them and I find it annoying. “Some of the stuff he wrote is interesting. His study of you was unorthodox, if I do say so myself.”
She must be referring to his notes about how I am sane and that I really was seeing ghosts. Of course she doesn’t believe it. “Where’d you get your medical degree from?” I ask, knowing full well she’s not a doctor.
“Oh, Nathan, I’m not a…”
“Right, so you sitting here judging me without an M.D. behind your name is a bit unorthodox to me.” I sit up and grip the bed railing with my hand, gritting my teeth. “I’m not crazy. I’m sane, and if you’d listen to me for one God damn minute you’d know.” To hell with being calm. It’s not getting me anywhere. “I’m sure you already have my intake paperwork ready to go for Sunset Canyon. Before you even speak to me, yeah?”
“Did you try and kill yourself yesterday, Nathan? Did you want to drown in that pond?”
“What answer do I have to say for you to believe me? If I say yes, you will, but then I’m screwed. If I say no, you won’t believe me, and I’m still screwed. So what I’m getting at is, why even bother asking?”
Carla crosses her legs and holds her notepad on her lap, her mouth set in a hard line, her eyebrows furrowed. I’m driving her crazy, I can tell. And why not? The way I see it, I have nothing to lose.
“I am here to help you. You seem to have a very hostile attitude toward me. Is there a reason why?”
“You’re the insane one if you can’t figure it out. You’re here to cart me off to the nuthouse and throw away the key. You’ve already convinced yourself that I dove into that pond with the intention to die. I can’t remember what happened, but I assure you I didn’t fall in because I wanted to. Something pushed me in! Something had hold of me and pulled me under! But me not remembering doesn’t matter. If I told you what I’m almost positive happened, you’d have me in a padded room quicker than you can say Thorazine.”
“Do you remember any details? Any at all?”
“Some. But I’m not talking about it right now. How about you step out of here and go call whoever it is you have to consult with and see what your next steps are? Stop wasting my time. Leave me alone while I enjoy the last few minutes of my freedom in the outside world.” Though I’m not free. I’m handcuffed to a bed and they won’t even let me take a piss.
“Is there anything I can do for you before I go make that call?” Carla stands up and gathers her bag and belongings.
“Tell the nurse I’m okay to go to the bathroom - like an adult, without the bedpan. Can you do that for me? I’d like to walk around some before you drug me up and I can’t anymore.”
Carla’s look is sincere, and she nods as she exits. I’m not sure if she really will do what I ask, but it looked convincing. I know she’s about to call the hospital to get a bed ready. I’ve seen all of this before, and it’s like a damn nightmare on repeat. I’m surprised when I see the nurse come in again, along with a male orderly.
“Mr. Gallagher, we’re here to take you down to the restroom.”
I size up the guy as they free me from the handcuffs. He’s about my size, but chubby, and I wonder if I can take him. The nurse stays behind and I’m glad for that. I don’t want her involved in what might happen, though I have no real plan on what I’m about to do. I’m desperate, so there’s no telling what I might be capable of. I’m fueled by fear, and I’ll do just about anything short of killing someone to make sure I don’t go back to the mental hospital.
***
Rusty
I feel like an idiot, walking around the house, attempting to conjure up the dead. I don’t even know how to do it, but when I continuously call out my mother’s name to no avail, I start to feel discouraged. Sitting on the couch, I pull out the picture of the three of us, my heart heavy as I think about what has become of us. My mom is cold and dead in the grave, my dad probably on his way back to be tortured.
How come I don’t see the boy running down the hallway again? It only shows up at their convenience. Standing, I go to the back door. It’s almost pitch black out there – the only light is from the stars and moon. Pushing past my fears, I hurry through the meadow toward the pond. My dad has spent a lot of time out here. Maybe that’s where I’ll see them. But I also fear being thrown in like he was, so I keep a good distance from the water, avoiding the dock completely.
“Mom? Are you there?” I yell it loud. Who cares? My neighbors aren’t close by, and if Hershel is watching, he knows what I’m doing.
The wind rustles through the trees and a cool breeze blows through my hair. Nothing appears in front of me. The fog above the water is thick and eerie. I sit on the ground on the shore, constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure no one is there.
“Mom, please show your face! Please come out!” I plead with her, hoping she’ll have some form of sympathy for us. “Dad is in trouble. How is he going to help you if you don’t come out and guide me?”
Nothing. Damn it! The night is quiet and the breeze calms. I’m left alone under a blanket of stars with nothing but worry on my mind and a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. My father is going away and I don’t know what I can do to help him.
“Rusty?”
Looking up, I see a woman in the mist and I can’t tell if it’s my mom. Standing, I squint my eyes. “Mom?”
“It’s me.”
“Mom, we need you! Dad needs you!”
“I know he does, but we needed him and he turned his back on me.”
This is not the mother I remember. She’s hardened and she doesn’t look the same. It is a reminder of how much I miss her. I know I do, but this solidifies the fact that I still haven’t gotten over her death and probably never will.
“Did you pull him in the water?”
“I did. Sammy helped.”
“Why? Why would you do that? He’s on suicide watch at the hospital because of it. They think he was trying to kill himself!” My voice shakes and echoes and I’m allowing my emotions to get the best of me.
“I know where he is and I know what is going on.”
“Then do something!”
“Nathan den
ied me. Maybe this will teach him not to.”
“What about me? Can I help? Can I do what you need done?”
Her eyes widen and a dark, almost as dark as the night sky. Why is she evil? “No, Rusty, what I need you can’t do. What Sammy needs you can’t do. And Lenora – she needs Nathan too.”
“Why him? I am seeing you too!”
“He shouldn’t have denied us, Rusty. He should help us.”
She begins to fade into the mist, and I step forward, probably too close to the water, but she’s made her point – she doesn’t want my help, so there’s no need to push me in the water. “Mom, why him? Why can’t I help?” I yell louder, but it doesn’t matter. She’s not answering me. It must be something I have to figure out.
I watch until she is completely gone, standing alone, more confused than I was before. I’ve gotta get back to my dad. We need to get him home before it’s too late for all of us.
***
Nathan
I’m shocked when he doesn’t put the handcuffs back on me. I guess he feels safe, thinking I won’t try anything, but the orderly does put his hand on my forearm as he guides me down the hallway. It feels good to be free of all my restraints – the oxygen, the IV, and of course, the cuffs. I feel fine without them.
Why in the hell are the bathrooms so far away from here anyway? I guess it doesn’t matter because it’s all working in my favor. I do see a security guard standing at the nurse’s station, though I’m not sure he’s here for me or if he’s just hanging out.
We turn the corner, and I try to make note of where I am. I’m pretty familiar with the hospital, but not the wing they have me on. It’s the psycho wing, and an area I’d rather not know much about. I start to doubt myself with this whole plan I’ve thought up in my head. Will I be strong enough? The guy probably has twenty pounds on me and I’ve been laid up in bed. I am groggy from the medications, but my adrenaline is pumping, and I hope I can ride that to get me out of this.