by Mark Butler
“We're just chilling” Jennie said, “trying to figure out where we can get some beer.”
“Beer?”
“Yea, you know, to get drunk and have fun.” Lisa explained.
“Yea, don't be a goody two-shoes.” Nelson said between stone throws. Amelia silently stared at the group, watching the stones splash into the pond, causing no ripples.
“I've never had beer before. You have to be twenty-one to get some anyway.” Amelia said.
It was confirmed. Steven watched in horrified fascination as Amelia stood next to an empty bench at some toxic-looking pond, chatting and gesturing as though she wasn't completely alone. Steven knew from years of practice that hallucinating by itself was not a diagnosis. The nature of the hallucinations, their representations, that was what was really important. Edging closer to Amelia, Steven stopped behind a large oak tree and crouched down. He leaned around the tree, towards Amelia, and strained his ears to hear her.
“We could get some cool twenty-one year old to buy us some beer.”
“Yea, but what could we give him in return? Money?”
“If he's hot, we won't have to pay him with money”
“Yea, you'll give him what you gave to Dan”
“Don't judge me, I can do whatever I want with my body”
It was all in Amelia's voice. This wasn't someone talking to themselves in the normal manner, mumbling half-phrases as they went about their business. No, this was a full-fledged conversation, with expression, pauses and syntax. Steve was deeply concerned, but they best thing he could possibly do was get home before Amelia. He would explain the situation to Catina and make every possible effort for the girl to have an emergency psychiatric appointment as soon as possible. Her simple hallucinations were not sufficient cause to alert the police and have Amelia involuntarily committed. The more peaceful the mental healing process was, the better.
“Well guys, I gotta get home before my parents start getting paranoid.” Amelia said.
“OK. I'll be back in school next week, and we can start having lunch together again.” Jennie said.
“Watch your back, babe.” Elbert said, being rewarded with an embarrassed blush from Amelia. He was always so concerned about her! It made her feel like a million bucks.
“I'll see you around girl.” Lisa smiled.
“Get some better fitting clothing, I can't see any skin!” Nelson yelled over his shoulder, still launching stones across the murky expanse.
Amelia smiled at them all and made a small wave with her wrist, mouthing 'Goodbye'.
Steve had already gotten fifty yards ahead of Amelia when he crouched behind a small bench, watching her bid her imaginary friends farewell. She turned her back to the pond and started walking towards Steve, her head down, deep in thought. For a moment he considered letting her pass him by, but he discarded that idea just as quickly. If he blundered in the middle of one of her hallucinations, she might react violently. Keeping as low to the ground as possible, Steve jogged towards some tree cover a quarter of a mile away. When he got there, he instinctively gave the area a quick scan. There was trouble.
She hadn't asked them any of her important questions. They wouldn't be interested in her school and family problems. They just wanted to have fun, like normal people. If only she could be like them! So blunt, so callous and simple. They liked friends, alcohol, sex and adventures. Amelia envied their ignorance of the burgeoning world.
There were four of them, mid-twenties, covered in tattoos. They held large bottles in brown paper sacks and were passing around a joint. They perched on a bench behind a playground for children, fifteen yards from the main trail. They looked dangerous and confident. And hyper-vigilant. Each one seemed to have a designated direction, watching each others backs, scanning the area in a three hundred and sixty degree zone of danger. Steven had heard about this behavior amongst inmates in prison yards. They would undoubtedly see Amelia, but Steven was uncertain if they would bother her.
The only real problem was Stewie. She had unfinished business with him. The other problem was Elbert. Amelia was attracted to his eyes, his friendliness. He liked her, she was certain. She didn't want to ruin things with him like she had with Stewie. She needed to isolate Elbert, mainly away from Nelson, and...then what? Tell him she liked him? Kiss him? No, she needed to talk to Jennie, to find out how to make boys like you. Amelia didn't know what Jennie did, but she was willing to take her advice and try almost anything.
They noticed her. They stopped drinking, stopped smoking, and stared. Steven had already resolved to let Amelia pass him, so he could be close to her as she passed by the thugs . At one moment, all three groups were within twenty yards of each other. They has seen Amelia, watched her through the slits of their animalistic eyes, and let her pass. Steven couldn't pinpoint the exact reason, but he suspected that they thought Amelia was mad. At first glance she looked like a typical teenage girl walking alone, but there was something not quite right about how she walked, how she carried herself, like she was in an entirely different world, one she had created in her head. She emanated madness.
Steven followed Amelia the rest of the way home, simultaneously feeling like her protector and victim. He wryly considered that she was the most dangerous thing on the streets, a disturbed girl with unlimited mental faculties. When she went through the front door, Steven waited two full minutes, then entered himself.
“Honey, I'm home!” he bellowed, overcompensating. Catina came out of the kitchen wearing oven mitts.
“Hey babe, where did you run off to?”
“My girlfriend's house. She said to tell you hi” Steven smiled, giving Catina a bear-hug.
“Well, next time you see her, maybe she could come by the house and pitch in with some chores?”
“I'll ask, but she mostly just uses me for her own sexual devices” Steven laughed, picking up Catina in his arms, “babe, we need to talk later, after dinner.” he said hurriedly as Amelia descended the stairs.
“OK. Hey Amelia, you almost ready for dinner?” Catina asked.
“I just gotta wash-up and sort out my school stuff” Amelia whispered, making brief eye contact. Steven watched her go back up the stairs, and felt certain that her wave of hallucinations had passed and she was sane again. Her eyes were clear, her voice rough, real. In the park she had sounded robotic and fake.
“Sorting out her school stuff means finishing all of her homework in under five minutes” Catina said over her shoulder as she went back into the kitchen.
Steven smiled. He had a weird, beautiful family. What measures was he willing to take keep it together?
Chapter Thirty-One
They planned their attack. They would ambush her, force her into talking. For the two weeks after Steven observed Amelia's hallucinating, she had been staying out late, dressing provocatively and ignoring her housework. Steven and Catina knew that Amelia needed help, but she was no ordinary fish to be baited and hooked. She required special handling.
“Do you think this will work?” Catina asked.
“I hope so.”
They had made sure that Amelia would be at dinner that night. They were giving her food cooked with wine. They were also serving food packed with tryptophans, trying to relax her. They had prepared their lines like great actors rehearsing for a Broadway drama. They watched her eat, watched her drink. Once the meal was done, Steven began abruptly.
“You are Jennie. She is confident, bold and hyper-sexual. You have to have her qualities, you admire them, so you created her to guide you.”
Amelia looked hard at Steven.
“What are you talking about? I have to be her? She's a total slut, and she's ditsy.” It never occurred to Amelia that Steven had never met Jennie. Catina spoke next.
“Elbert is your need. He is compassionate, strong and interested in you. Elbert is the life that you should have lived.”
“Elbert? Yea, he's cute, but he's too...fake. He's got all these ideas of taking me on romantic da
tes, giving me flowers and someday meeting me at a church altar. I like him, but he's just a hopeless romantic, really.” Amelia said, surprising herself with such a harsh assessment of someone she wanted to be with.
“Amelia, have I ever met Jennie? Have you ever told me anything about her? How about Catina, does she know Elbert?” Steven asked gently. Amelia's eyes took on an intense, far-off gaze. Steven knew she was racking her brain, her eidetic memory, trying to reconcile her hallucinations with her realities. For some sad reason, the neural connection was severed. Amelia's logic took over.
“You must have followed me to the park, seen them. You may have even followed them home, talked to their parents, their teachers.”
“Amelia, you're going to see a psychiatrist, his name is Dr. Ailez”
“Ailez? That was the name of the government worker who proctored Lisson Orphanages' standardized tests six years ago.”
“It's that same man. He was also responsible for getting you on an accelerated curriculum at Von Neumann High” Catina said.
“I remember him, he was nice. Smart, too”
“You have an appointment with him tomorrow” Steven said. Amelia met his eyes, and she knew that if she refused, she might be forced against her will. She decided to take the easy route.
“I'll go voluntarily, if that's what you're so worried about. If he declares me sane, then I want both of you to see psychiatrists of my choosing, for a thorough examination of your parental insecurities and delusions” Amelia smiled. She would see their psychiatrist, and if he was worth his salt, their appointment would take less than five minutes.
Chapter Thirty-Two
They agreed to Amelia's terms, and the next day, they took her to see Dr. Ailez. Steven and Catina decided to wait in the lobby during Amelia's session. As her legal guardians, they would have full access to her medical care, of course, but they could not be present during the actual examination. This was Dr. Ailez's rule.
Amelia was shown to the doctor's office by a young male nurse, who knocked on the door and announced that his eleven o'clock had arrived. The first thing Amelia noticed was the size of his office. It was small, sparsely decorated. There was a small oak desk for the physician, a plush grey couch for the patient, and another chair for the doctor.
The man sitting behind the desk had aged well. He looked almost identical to when Amelia had first met him, and he did not get up to greet Amelia. He did not speak, content to stare into her eyes with a seriousness that spoke volumes about his concern for her. Amelia sat down on his couch, letting him stare.
“Amelia, in reverse order, what were the answers of the two questions I asked you six years ago?”
“E and eighty” she said. Was that why she was here, to dazzle this man with her scintillating aptitude?
“So, you remember me. Good. Amelia, I'd like to speak frankly with you. I want to apologize on behalf of the human race for the life that you have lived. You did not ask for your gifts, for your parents to abandon you, to be abused. These things happened, and I'm sorry.”
Amelia stared at him for a moment, seeing nothing but sincerity.
“What do you want from me? Forgiveness?”
“No, I want for you to be a bigger person than any one you have ever met. I want you to forgive yourself, and embrace your potential”
Oh, that was it. He wanted her to 'live up to her potential'. Why did all adults always say that, like she was determined to fail if not for there clumsy interventions?
“Sure, whatever you want” she said sarcastically.
“Good, I'm glad we got that settled” the doctor said, “Moving on, let's talk about your hallucinations”
Amelia was taken aback. Did he ignore her sarcasm and crudely insinuate that she was mentally ill? Why did he think she was having hallucinations, anyway?
“I'm not hallucinating anything. I just happen to have friends that no one else has ever met, there's no big mystery going on here”
“Excellent, I was scared that you were imagining people who didn't exist. But you say they do, so good.” he smiled broadly.
“Aren't doctor supposed to be serious, professional?”
“Who told you that?” he asked.
And so Amelia's psychiatry session went. Amelia was combative and sarcastic and the doctor was the same. He let her dictate the topic of conversation, the degree of seriousness and the relevancy to her own life. Amelia prattled on about school, her friends and parents. When asked about Lisson, she was evasive, only hinting at what might have gone on there. Dr. Ailez had used this therapy technique invented by Freud many times; Free association.
He let her talk about anything and everything, with no direction or purpose. He engaged her, encouraged her babbling, but behind his relaxed demeanor was a mind hard at work. His sharp insight was like an invisible laser, beaming from behind his friendly smile, intensely analyzing Amelia's every word, every behavior. He watched the way she looked up when discussing her imaginary friends, the same way a bad liar does when they are trying to think of something to say, like the answer is floating in the air above them. When she discussed her younger years, her eyes were downcast, revealing her shame. When discussing her parents, she tapped her hands on the armrest of the couch; this probably meant they were an after-thought, an area of life to be addressed but not prioritized. Though her tells were subtle, the doctor was the best in the world.
After her session, Dr. Ailez thanked Amelia for her time, and informed her parents that he would call them at a later date with his assessment, or at least for a follow-up appointment. Steven and Catina left the office with Amelia in tow, looking soul-fatigued.
“How was it?” Catina asked gently.
“Weird. He let me talk about whatever I wanted to. He didn't seem very interested in specificities. I think you guys chose a quack.”
“Maybe so” Steven said, knowing full well how the Dr. had manipulated Amelia into revealing more than she realized.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
They were at the park when she walked up. They looked angry, violent. Nelson spoke first.
“Amelia, we need a map of the school, to know where the charges go.”
“What?”
“We're blowing up the school. The adults have held us back long enough. They are slow, inefficient and superfluous. We must act.” Lisa said, materializing.
“I don't have a map.”
“Use that big, beautiful brain of yours” Elbert said throatily, sidling up next to Amelia, leaning into her ear.
“OK” She breathed back, unable to resist his charm.
They crowded around her, listening to Amelia describe the school in detail, the best places for the bombs and the prime opportunities to plant and detonate them. She kept talking, the students and teachers she disliked, the ugly artwork by the vending machines, the special needs wing on the second floor. They listened, rapt. Amelia knew everything, and she would help them. They would destroy the school, set the teenagers free, free to live how they wanted, free to be themselves. Elbert, Nelson, Lisa and Jennie watched her intently, taking notes. After a time, they told she had to go. Their grand plan would be executed the following day, with her help. They would meet behind the bleachers before lunch to finalize the plans' logistics.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Amelia was eating breakfast, her mind curiously blank. She felt like she had seen her friends the previous day, but she couldn't recollect what they had done. They were at the park, they were talking...
“Time for school sweetheart” Catina smiled, handing Amelia a twenty dollar and her backpack, “Have a blast.”
“Thanks...Mom” Amelia said, not really sure why. Catina's eyes started to tear up and she jerked her face away from Amelia, reaching for a tissue. Amelia had never called her 'Mom' before. Amelia pretended not to notice Catina's tears, and she felt a pang of guilt for constantly mistreating her. She got up and walked out the front door awkwardly.
The school bus was as rowdy
and chaotic as it had ever been, though Amelia barely noticed. Amelia felt detached, indifferent. The annoyance was gone. The impatience, the sense of urgency, were no longer there. Amelia felt like she was outside of her body, watching everything from a higher vantage point, wondering what would happen.
At school, there were no individuals. There were no cliques, no races, no teachers or upper class-men. Amelia only saw blurs of faces, the groups of people becoming formless gray masses. She couldn't hear anything distinctly, just a dull background noise of talking and yelling, like she was listening to a loud party at the bottom of a swimming pool. She attended her first three classes with glassy, unseeing eyes. She barely heard a word the teacher said. No one talked to her. When the time for lunch came, she suddenly got it. They were going to blow up the school. She needed to stop them. Wild-eyed, Amelia turned on her heel and sprinted over to the school's athletic wing, towards the bleachers. Her wild dash caused a few students to turn their head, wondering what had happened to the pale -skinned, weird girl. When she got there, they were already gone, off to plant the bombs.
Azel Meyer had been on the job for three months. Every day he watched them go to class, heard the bell ring, then saw them swarm the halls, only to go back to class. They never looked at him, unless it was with something bordering on pity and disgust. At twenty seven, Azel had dropped out of college and taken on a high school security job for the money. The boys looked at him with typical high-schooler arrogance, confident in their abilities to kick his ass. The girls treated him with a mild neglect, like only the worst among them would ever consider dating him. The teachers didn't notice him, sure that he would be useless in a conflict. In short, Azel put on a cheap uniform and even cheaper tool-belt everyday to be treated with scorn and given a pitifully small paycheck. Azel heard the bell ring that indicated the first lunch period was beginning, then he saw the skinny, pale girl sprinting towards the athletic wing of the school. Screw lunch duty, Azel thought, what is she doing?