The Dark Hour

by K. J. Young

  He flips through the pages again and then shuts the binder. As he sets it down on the nightstand in front of the clock radio, he spots something on the floor wedged between the furniture and the wall. A book of some kind. The space is too narrow for his hand, so he gets up and slides the nightstand to one side and finds a leather-bound journal, the kind with an elastic strap running top to bottom. A quote stamped on the front cover says, Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong. 1 Corinthians 16:13.

  After moving the nightstand back and sitting on the bed, he opens it. The first page has a handwritten inscription. Lisa, the staff and I would like to present you with this journal so you can document your thoughts and feelings as you move forward in your new life. We’re very proud of all you’ve accomplished and wish you well. Sincerely, Dr. John Bauer.

  Well, that’s definitely weird.

  The handwriting on the next page is decidedly more feminine and definitely Lisa’s. She began writing on the bus ride down to Alden Manor. She talks about being an inpatient at a facility and mentions how fragile she’d been when she arrived. With the help of God, the staff at Emerson Mental Health Clinic, and a lot of hard work, I feel renewed and ready to face the world!

  The cylinders in Mark’s brain turn and then click into place as he remembers something Lisa said. She said she’d gotten the job at Alden Manor because her doctor knew Dr. Cross. Her doctor must have worked at this mental health clinic. Knowing that she was mentally delicate to begin with makes complete sense. She wasn’t up to the job, and in the end, the stress got to her. He continues reading.

  I’m cautiously optimistic about my new job. I hope it works out and the Walgraves are happy with my work.

  Mark finds the next few pages boring. The first entry gives her thoughts on the pair (Roy is very attentive to his sister, while Alma is sweet) and her impressions of the house (so fancy, but worn and needing some refreshing). “You can say that again,” Mark mutters. He continues reading, noting that she tops each entry with the date. Some of them are short, just a few sentences, and only reveal her mood or a list of the mundane tasks she’s performed that day. Mark sits up in surprise to read that a week after her start date, Dr. Cross brings in a new hire, a young man named Ted. Lisa takes an immediate dislike to Ted. The next few weeks are filled with entries about how Ted gets on her nerves. A sanctimonious know-it-all, she says. Not as good-looking or smart as he thinks he is. Why does he think he can order me around? I was here first.

  Mark’s interest picks up. Ted sounds like a complete asshole. No wonder Lisa never talked about him. He continues reading. The next entry almost makes him laugh.

  Alma and Roy keep trying to set us up. Tonight they gave us time off and instructed us to go to dinner and a movie. We went out and had dinner at a steak house (Roy’s treat), but it was awful. Away from the house, Ted is even worse. He has two modes of conversation—bragging and complaining. So obnoxious. And he kept pushing me to drink wine, which is rude. I don’t want to lose this job, but I will tell them I don’t enjoy his company and do not want to see him outside of work. Thank God he goes home in the evening and has Sundays off. At least I get a break from him.

  “Ted,” Mark says, “you don’t know this, but you’re on your way out.” He flips through the next few pages to read more complaints about Ted. Lisa says Ted tries to order her around, and when she ignores him, he gets in her face. Whoever this Ted is, he knows nothing about how to treat a lady. Mark is not surprised to see that one day when Ted doesn’t show up, Lisa is told that Ted’s time at Alden Manor has come to a close and he won’t be coming back. Lisa is relieved and happy. I have to be honest here and say that I’m glad he’s gone.

  In spite of his best efforts, Mark’s eyelids are getting heavy. He wants to keep reading, but he’s running out of steam, and he still has to get ready for bed. He flips through the rest of the journal, noticing that Lisa’s handwriting gets worse as she goes along and that some of the passages are short. A few sentences jump out at him.

  I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

  Had the same nightmare again last night. I’m exhausted but can’t let on. I need to just soldier through and do my job.

  I told Mark some of my concerns. He seemed sympathetic, but I can tell that he doesn’t understand.

  On the top of the last page, it says, It’s all getting to be too much. I’m losing my mind. And below that is written a whole column:

  Losing my mind.

  Losing my mind.

  Losing my mind.

  Losing my mind.

  Losing my mind.

  Losing my mind.

  Losing my mind.

  Losing my mind.

  Mark closes the journal. He has enough morbid curiosity to want to read the book all the way through, every word from where he left off to the end. This journal chronicles Lisa’s life at Alden Manor as she lost her grip on sanity, and how fascinating is that? He should hand the book over to Dr. Cross, but he knows that he won’t. Tomorrow, first chance he gets, he’ll read it more thoroughly.

  He opens the nightstand drawer and finds it empty except for a flashlight, the same one Lisa used to show him the ballroom on the second floor. Pushing the flashlight to one side, he puts the journal next to it and closes the drawer.

  Poor Lisa. He pictures her all alone in this room, writing in this book, her worry and fear building and building, weighing upon her, until she can’t bear it anymore. All of it leading up to her thinking the only way out of her misery was to throw herself off the top of a building.

  What a tragic ending. Lisa checked out of life before she even found out what happened next. How does someone get to that place?

  Chapter Seventeen

  As Dr. Cross promised, more applicants come the next morning. Again, Mark is put in charge of greeting them and walking them in to talk with Roy, Alma, and Dr. Cross. This time, though, Roy and Dr. Cross insist Mark stay in the room during the interview process, because they say it will make the young women more comfortable. Mark doesn’t know about that, but it keeps him out of the clutches of Nurse Darby, so he’s pleased to go along with this decision.

  There are six applicants in all, each of them attractive, and they’re scheduled in close succession. One in particular, Debra, seems nervous, but the rest are poised and confident. The candidates usually start the interview by listing off their qualifications. A few of them have done elder care for years, usually in nursing homes. Roy asks each one, “So why do you want to work in a private home instead?” He gets a variety of reasons. One woman says she wants more one-on-one time with her patients (Mark notices Roy wince at the word patients), another says she’s tired of the management at her last job, and yet another says it’s simply time for a change. There’s a story there, not that Mark will ever hear it.

  Only one of them seems excited at the prospect of living there full time: Debra, the nervous one. She primly says, “I believe my heavenly Father put me here on earth to serve the elderly.” She makes a point of smiling at Mark as if he will concur. “I have a God-given talent for anticipating the needs of the infirm. I would love to be a member of your household.”

  From the look on Roy’s face, Debra will not be getting the position.

  After each woman leaves, Dr. Cross asks Mark to weigh in with his opinion. Each time he tries to be helpful, mentioning specifics about the applicant’s answers. The last question that is always asked of him, either by Roy or Dr. Cross, is something along the lines of, “What do you think of her as a person? Is she someone you’d like to be friends with or date?” Each time he’s honest and tells them no, but he is careful to add that he would be able to work well with any of them. It’s not his decision to make.

  By noon the last applicant has left, and the group has not made a decision. Alma twists her hands and says, “What will we do? We have no time.”

  No time? Alma must have a cement mixer for a brain because Mark can never quite figure her out. />
  Roy takes on a reassuring tone. “Don’t you worry, Alma. Dr. Cross and I will come up with something.” He nods at Mark. “Thanks for your help, Mark.”

  Nurse Darby walks in then and says, “Mark, there is a man on the front porch who is asking for you. He says he is your brother, Brian?” She raises her eyebrows questioningly.

  Not Brian. There’s no one he wants showing up at Alden Manor less than his family. Mark turns to the Walgraves, mortified at getting an unannounced visitor during working hours. “I’m so sorry. I’ll tell him not to come here again.”

  Roy waves his hand. “Not to worry, my boy. You’re allowed to have guests, if you like.”

  But Mark doesn’t want guests, especially his older brother. When he opens the door to find Brian waiting on the porch, he immediately asks, “What are you doing here?”

  Brian folds his arms and laughs. “Is that any way to greet your brother?”

  “Fuck off, Brian. I’m working. How did you know I was here?”

  Brian leans against the house as if he’s not going anywhere soon. “Stopped by your place. I have to say your girlfriend, Monica, is easy on the eyes.” He gives Mark a tight-lipped smile. “Anyway, she gave me the inside scoop on where you were and what you’re doing.” Glancing around the porch, he comments, “I have to say that this is different, even for you. Monica wasn’t too thrilled about you moving out, but I guess you knew that already.”

  Good thing Mark already warned Monica about his brother. It wouldn’t be the first time Brian has hit on one of his girlfriends. The infuriating thing is that on two occasions the girls fell for him. One of them came crawling back begging forgiveness, but sadly for her, that was a foregone conclusion. Mark doesn’t take Brian’s castoffs. “Yeah, well, she knows all about you, so you can just forget any ideas you might have.” His voice is impatient. “Listen, I have to get back to work, so—”

  Brian grabs hold of the door before he can close it. “Hold off there, Spud. I came to give you a message. Dad said to tell you there’s an opening at his company. It’s entry level and doesn’t pay much, but if you apply yourself, in a few years it could lead to some great opportunities. If you’re interested, he’ll get you an interview. What do you say?”

  What does he think of being an underling at the insurance company his stepdad works for? Yeah, that’s never going to happen. And how typical of his stepfather to send Brian to do his bidding. “I’d say, no thanks, I already have a job.”

  “As a home health aide?” Brian laughs.

  “That’s right. I’m a home health aide. What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s a woman’s job, for one. And secondly, there’s no future here. It’s a loser job. Mark, even you can do better than this.”

  Mark feels his face redden in anger. “We’re done here,” he says.

  “Oh, Spud, there’s no need to be that way. I’m just trying to help you out.”

  As if. This is one of Brian’s games—pretending to act in his brother’s best interests while subtly putting him down. Mark says, “Brian, don’t ever come back here again.” He’s about to slam the door when Brian holds up a sealed envelope.

  “Wait!” he says. “I have a letter from Mom.”

  Reluctantly, Mark takes it from him. “What’s this?”

  “Mom misses you. She wants you to come for dinner tonight.” He gestures to his car, parked at the curb. “I can drive you there right now.” Mark is ready to tell him off, but then his brother adds, “Grandma is coming too, and she’ll have your birthday check.”

  His grandmother’s birthday checks are usually generous, but that’s not enough to compel him to attend a family gathering. “Tell Mom no thanks. I have to work.” Before Brian can get in another word, Mark slams the door and locks it. When Mark turns, he sees Roy standing a few feet behind him. He mumbles, “Sorry for the interruption.”

  Roy says, “Your brother didn’t come bearing good news?”

  “No, he never does.”

  “Ah, well, families are complicated.” Roy exhales.

  Mark feels a battle within, anger conflicting with shame. “You can say that again. He wants me to come to dinner at my folks’ house tonight. My grandmother will be there, he said.”

  “And you don’t want to go?”

  “No. There’s no way it can go well. Everything is always on their terms.”

  Roy leans on his cane, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It seems to me,” he says slowly, “that you would like a separation from your family, at least for the time being. Am I right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You can do what you want, but I would think telling them that in person would be immensely satisfying. It would put you in the driver’s seat, so to speak.”

  “Maybe.” Mark can see the sense in what Roy is saying, but he doesn’t relish the thought of sitting in his mother’s living room completely outnumbered, while his stepfather criticizes everything about him. “I told him I had to work.”

  “I think we could spare you for a few hours if you want to spend time with your family. Believe me, there’s something enormously satisfying about meeting when you have the upper hand. Take the Excalibur, and if they don’t behave appropriately, tell them off and leave.”

  A minute ago, Mark had no intention of eating dinner with his family, but the idea of showing up in the Excalibur is tempting. And knowing he can leave at any time would put him at a distinct advantage. “You wouldn’t mind me taking the car?”

  “Of course not! I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.” Roy grins. “Imagine their faces when they see you behind the wheel of a luxury automobile. They’ll have a whole new respect for you.”

  Mark can picture himself pulling up in the driveway, parking the Excalibur right over the oil stain left behind from Brian’s first car, a rusty Plymouth Duster. The Duster was a complete piece of junk. Of course, at the time, Mark’s transportation had been a ten-speed bike, so Brian had lorded his car ownership over him, offering him rides in exchange for cash and chores done on his behalf. Brian has a better car now, but it still looks like a heap next to Roy’s car. Even if Mark stays for just five minutes, it will be worth it to see their reaction. “I’ll do it,” he says at last. “I won’t stay long, though.”

  “Take all the time you need,” Roy says. “And if they give you any guff, make sure you tell them they’ve seen the last of you. People get divorced. Friendships break up. Couples stop dating. Just because they’re family doesn’t mean you need to put up with abuse. You’re an adult man, and you’re entitled to your own life.”

  Mark walks with Roy back to the blue room, where Alma sits alone, picking imaginary lint off the front of her shirt. When the two men walk in, she doesn’t even acknowledge their presence. Mark pauses inside the doorway to open the envelope his brother gave him and reads over his mother’s message. Most people would interpret her words differently, but Mark knows it’s a lure disguised as love. He frowns as he folds the paper and sticks it back into the envelope. They’re always trying to reel him back in.

  Roy gestures for Mark to take a seat and says, “I’ve found that when I have to confront a contentious situation, it’s best to be prepared.”

  “What do you mean by prepared?”

  “Just this—if you practice ahead of time, you’ll always have a contingency plan. Would you like some help running your lines?”

  Mark starts to laugh, then realizes the old man is completely serious. “I’m not sure what lines you mean.” Down the hall, he hears Nurse Darby and Dr. Cross having their own conversation. Although he can’t make out the words, Nurse Darby’s voice is louder than the doctor’s, and she sounds decidedly cross. He doesn’t know what Roy is talking about, but if it keeps him away from Nurse Darby, he’s glad to go along. “Maybe you could give me an example?”

  Roy’s eyes light up, and his back straightens. “I’d be happy to.” As vacuous as Alma looks, her brother is just the opposite. He gestures animatedly
while he gives Mark a lecture on not letting other people dominate and ends with, “You must be in charge!”

  “Got it,” Mark says agreeably.

  “Just like in magic, the trick is misdirection. Always misdirection.” He holds one finger up. “Tell me something your parents might say that would upset you, and we’ll come up with an appropriate response.”

  Mark considers all the arguments he’s had with his parents over the years. “They like to bring up all the things I’ve done wrong in the past and how they know I’m not going anywhere in life.” His mom frames her concerns as motherly love, while his stepfather prefers to list all of Mark’s faults. At least once in his teenage years, the man had said Mark was destined for prison.

  Roy smiles. “Oh, this is an easy one. It won’t be a conversation if you don’t respond. If they provoke you, don’t answer. Instead, you write a different script, and your words will create the reality. Tell them that you’re not the same person anymore. That you’ve moved on from your past and don’t want to discuss your life choices. If they can’t respect that, you’re going to have to go your separate ways.”

  “Do you think that will work?”

  “I do. Just don’t let them get a rise out of you.”

  They spend the next hour practicing hypothetical exchanges between Mark and his family. At one point, Dr. Cross comes to say goodbye, and Roy acknowledges him with a nod but never takes his eyes off Mark’s face. When Nurse Darby fires up the vacuum cleaner in the back of the house, Mark is still throwing out responses.

  “I’m not that person anymore.”

  Roy nods approvingly and spurs him on. “Keep going.”

  Mark says, “I’ve moved on and don’t wish to discuss it.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Roy says with a grin.

  “If you can’t respect my decisions, I’ll have no choice but to cut you out of my life.” This last one Mark says so emphatically that the words are practically shouted.