Asylum

by Madeleine Roux

  “If I could have your attention,” he repeated, standing on the first step of the entranceway. The students quieted down and the police officers moved away.

  “Thank you. All right, I know it’s been a difficult night for everyone. First thing in the morning, your parents will be notified of the situation. Right now, we need to do what’s best for you, our faculty, staff, and of course what’s best for Joe McMullan’s family. The police will conduct a full search of the building tonight, and an officer will be stationed on each floor to make certain you are all safe. I’m sure many of you have questions, and I’m happy to stay and assist you however I can. To the rest of you, be safe and vigilant, and cooperate fully with the Camford Police. And let us keep Joe’s family in our thoughts tonight.”

  At this, the sound of crying rippled through the crowd. In front of Dan, two girls clung to each other, sobbing. Students swarmed around the director, shouting questions until he ordered them to calm down and speak one by one.

  Dismissed by the policewoman, Abby walked over to Dan.

  “I don’t think she even wrote down half of what I said. Whatever, I’m so ready for bed it’s not even funny, although I don’t suppose there’s any way I’m going to fall asleep.” She shuddered. “I wish this were just a nightmare that we could wake up from. Anyway, see you tomorrow?”

  She took his hand and squeezed it. Dan squeezed back. “Yeah. Try to get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow. Text if you need me.”

  With heavy steps, Abby followed a police officer who was leading the students to a back staircase to their rooms, since the main stairs were cordoned off with police tape. The body had been moved, but for the time being it was still a crime scene. Dan trudged up the stairs behind her, beyond exhausted, wishing he had a moment to properly remember their kiss and forget that he was at Brookline altogether. At Brookline where a murderer was wandering free.

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  CHAPTER

  No 24

  Felix was not in the room when Dan got there. Still being questioned by the police, Dan thought. He was just wondering if they’d let Felix come back that night at all when the door opened, and Felix walked in. He immediately went to his bed, curled up on it, and hugged his knees to his chest. He was still wearing a T-shirt and running shorts. He looked vulnerable and scared.

  “Oh God, Felix, I’m really sorry,” Dan said. “Nobody should have to see something like that.”

  On the bed, Felix was shaking, rattling the whole bed frame.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Felix shook his head. It looked like if he opened his mouth he would start crying.

  “If you need to talk or anything, you know where to find me. Anytime.”

  Felix didn’t respond.

  In a fog, Dan went through the motions of brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed. A police officer patrolled the hallway. His hand was on his holster. It made Dan walk very carefully down the hall.

  Back in the room, Felix had, surprisingly, fallen asleep. Dan turned off the light and got into bed in the clothes he was wearing. He didn’t want to risk waking Felix by changing. Besides, it wasn’t like he would be able sleep anyway. As he lay down, he heard a crunching noise. He reached into the pouch of his hoodie and pulled out a few sheets of paper. He had no idea how they got there; dimly, he remembered seeing a set of cabinets in the operating amphitheater, but he had passed out with that vision before reaching them. Was this another memory gap? Weird, though, because he really couldn’t remember even making it across the room.

  He had an odd thought. What if Abby had put them in his pocket while he was still unconscious? He knew that there had been papers on the ground when he came to. Did she read them and already know about Lucy? But surely she would have said something if she did. And he couldn’t think of any reason why she would have put the papers in his pocket.

  There was enough light coming through the window that Dan didn’t need to switch on his bedside lamp. He smoothed the crumpled papers on his pillow. They were the same kind of memos that he’d already seen.

  Dan reached the last piece of paper. The handwriting jumped out at him.

  The warden.

  A flash of inspiration this morning over breakfast—there is, I think, a way in which my ideas can live on forever. All men seek immortality in their own way, either through a legacy of children carrying their name and genetic material or through architecture or science, and this now is simply my search for a legacy like no other.

  The work will be grisly, true. I’ve no doubt about that. Yet Michelangelo had his secret cadavers, and so too must I, an artist of a different sort, risk and sacrifice.…

  So the warden had been performing grisly “sacrifices” on his patients. In order to create a legacy for his name. Dan thought back to the index cards they’d looked at in the warden’s office, so many of them with N under the Recovered box. How many operations had failed? How many patients had been needlessly subjected to pain and terror all for the sake of the warden searching for a kind of immortality?

  There was more writing on the back. Dan turned it over and read on:

  I’ve always hated that word—sacrifice. It conjures up images of savages beating drums around a fire. But sacrifices there must be, and how dear. And how dangerous.

  That was the end of the entry. But there was one thing more, in the warden’s now familiar handwriting. A signature. Two words: “Daniel Crawford.”

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  CHAPTER

  No 25

  The police found the man who’d killed Joe the next day, in a bar downtown with Joe’s wallet and a garrote. The director held a meeting in Wilfurd Commons to tell the student body that they were safe now, but that if any of them wanted to go home, they would get a full refund. Classes would resume the next day. There would be counselors standing by if students needed someone to talk to.

  Dan found Abby and asked her if she wanted to go for a walk. The yard outside Wilfurd lacked its usual mob of kids playing Frisbee or lawn bowling. Everyone on campus was in a somber mood. They decided to get away from the campus for a while, so they took a path that led to the forest. As soon as they had gone a couple of yards, the air got cooler and the light dimmer from the riot of trees arching over them.

  “How is Felix holding up?” Abby said after a while.

  Dan shrugged. He didn’t really know. “He wasn’t there when I woke up, and I didn’t see him in the Commons. Maybe he’s seeing one of the counselors.”

  “How about you? Feel ok?” Abby slipped her hand into his.

  “Yeah,” Dan lied. Tell her, tell her everything. Stop holding everything in. But really, how could he tell her? Hey, so it turns out there was this one warden behind all the horrible shit here, and oh, guess what, we have the same name. Oh, and I’ve been having these dreams like I’m seeing through his eyes. No biggie.

  At least Dan finally knew why Sal Weathers and his wife had gotten so angry when he’d told them his name.

  “Jordan’s not answering his phone,” Abby said, interrupting his thoughts. The pine needles crunched under their feet. “I texted him last night when I got to my room and again this morning. I assume he heard the news that they found the guy, although I’m not sure he’s left his room. I got one reply: ߢbusy with homework.’ I don’t get why he’s being so strange. So unlike the kid I met on the bus.”

  “Maybe he needs to be alone for a while. I mean, he saw the body.”

  “Maybe … but I keep thinking about what Yi said, about us watching out for him. I’m just worried, you know? I worry,” she said. “I’ll try him again later. Can’t hurt to try, right?”

  Dan didn’t see her for the rest of the day. Back
in his room, he found himself staring at the wall, his thoughts in a jumble. When his phone rang in his pocket, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

  Chill out, Dan, it’s just your parents.

  He picked up the phone, already knowing what was coming.

  “Oh, Danny, we just got off the phone with your program director who tells us that a boy has been killed right in your very dorm, what is going on, do you need us to—” His mother’s voice came out in a panicked rush.

  He jumped to interrupt her. “Hey, hey, listen—they caught the guy, okay?” He realized he was almost shouting and lowered his voice. “I’m fine. We’re all safe now. They’ve got counselors and stuff and they caught the guy who did it.”

  “The director said they had a ‘suspect in custody,’” she said shrilly. “He didn’t sound nearly as sure as you do.”

  Dan had to sound sure, not just for his mother, but for himself. It was hard to ignore that while he’d been out cold having a vision about the Sculptor, two floors up Joe was being, well, sculpted.

  “If they really thought we were in danger, they’d shut down the program and send us home.” Dan spoke with as much authority as he could muster, desperately hoping Sandy would take him at his word.

  “I suppose that’s true. I’m just … I’m just heartsick thinking of you there. You’re with your friends? You’re okay?”

  “I’m okay. And Abby and Jordan are, too.” Sort of. “I promise.”

  “Okay. Well, if you’re sure …”

  “Hey, while I have you guys on the phone, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course, Danny. Let me just put you on speakerphone.” He heard a click and suddenly it got very loud on the other end.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “What do you need, Danny?” Paul asked.

  Where to start? “I just had a question about my … family history, I guess. I mean, the stuff before you guys. Stuff from when I was younger. I was looking up some of the history about this place—’cause you know, the dorm used to be a psych ward and all—and it turns out the warden here was also named Daniel Crawford.” Careful now … “I thought that was an, uh, interesting coincidence. Do you know if there’s any possible relation?”

  “Dan,” his father said soothingly. “I mean, really, do you need us to come get you? We can get on a plane right now and come get you. It’s no problem.”

  “What? No! That’s not what I—”

  “I’m serious. The whole thing doesn’t feel right to me. You should come home, you’re not, you know, always so good with stuff like this,” his father said. It had been a while since Dan had heard him sound so worried.

  “Danny, sweetie, your father is just concerned, we both are,” his mom added. “Do we need to call Dr. Oberst? If you think this might trigger some sort of episode …”

  “But I didn’t say anything about wanting to come home—”

  “Psych wards and wardens and … What about you, Danny? It doesn’t sound like you’re taking care of yourself!” It was his dad again, and from the sound of it, he was working himself up into an angry froth.

  “Calm down, Paul. Danny, we’re worried about you, that’s all. We’re just trying to tell you that if you want to leave, we think that would be a good, rational decision. We always knew that this might be too much for you—”

  “Look, never mind. Don’t call Dr. Oberst. Don’t worry about me. I have to get going.” He hung up the phone over their protests.

  Paul and Sandy had always told him that the most they could give him about his birth parents was “nonidentifying” information, like the fact that they’d been college educated and healthy and had no other kids. But apparently, all you had to do was check a little box saying you didn’t want to divulge your identity, and suddenly it took a good reason and a court order to get anywhere.

  Frankly, Dan had never really cared to know who his good-for-nothing parents were. Paul and Sandy were more than great; they had come to feel like family.

  But suddenly, finding out his history felt like the most important thing in the world. The missing piece in this maddening puzzle—the link between Dan and a ruthless killer. Of all the places he could have ended up this summer, it couldn’t be a mistake that he’d chosen this one.

  Brookline was his destiny. It was in his blood.

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  CHAPTER

  No 26

  Dan tore through his desk drawers, searching for the photo of Daniel Crawford. The scratched-out eyes were still burned in his mind, but the rest of the details had grown hazy, and he needed to give it a closer look. When he’d dumped out the entire contents of his drawers onto his bed and the picture still hadn’t surfaced, he started to feel a tightening in his chest. No matter how many times he sifted through the pile, he simply couldn’t find it.

  The photo was gone.

  He had seen the photograph, hadn’t he?

  Yes, yes, he was absolutely sure. He had even questioned Felix about it, which was how he learned about the old wing in the first place.

  Maybe Felix had taken the photograph for some reason. Dan couldn’t imagine why, but it was better than the alternative—someone sneaking around in his room, planting spooky pictures and taking them away. He reached under his bed where he had hidden the folder, half expecting it to be gone, too.

  But no, there it was, exactly as he had left it.

  He wanted to make sure he hadn’t missed anything last time. Maybe he’d even put the photo in here without remembering it. He opened the folder. There, right on top of the stack of papers, was a note in now dreadfully familiar handwriting. This one wasn’t even in an envelope.

  In a mad world, only the mad are sane.

  Dan hurled the folder across the room. Papers went flying. “I can’t take this anymore!” he shouted. A moment later there was a knock at the door, and a guy from the room next to his, Thomas, stuck his head in.

  “You okay, man?” he said.

  Dan nodded, too upset to say anything coherent.

  “Because, you know, if you have anything you want to talk about, I mean, about Joe and all, they have counselors … or I could, you know, if you need it.…” His voice trailed off.

  “No, man, it’s really okay, thanks for asking,” Dan said, puffing out his cheeks in what he hoped looked like a smile.

  Thomas closed the door with a shrug.

  Dan didn’t want help and he definitely didn’t need other people’s pity.

  At dinner, Abby was withdrawn. She slumped in her chair, chewing her nails and holding a staring contest with her mashed potatoes. Dan was still mulling over the little he knew about his mysterious stalker. While everyone in the cafeteria was noticeably more subdued than usual, Dan felt like all the sadness in the room originated at his table.

  Finally, Abby spoke. “So I was thinking we must be terrible people. I mean really, really terrible people.”

  “I … Hm. That’s not what I was thinking, but go on.”

  “It’s Jordan,” Abby said, sliding down even farther in her chair. “I feel like we’ve completely failed him.”

  “How? You’ve been texting him like crazy. He knows we’re reaching out.”

  “That’s not enough. We should go see him. We have to get through to him; otherwise we’re no better than his family, or that guy from his school who ditched him.”

  “Abby, if he wants to be left alone …”

  “But he doesn’t. We all process stress differently. I think he’s hiding, like he thinks he’d be a burden or something if he told us what’s going on. I want him to know that’s not true at all.”

  “I know, but I still worry about invading his space. Maybe you should just text him again.”

  “Sometimes, Dan, friends have to take a stand and say: Hey, idiot, we’re here for you no matter what. We’re not going to disappear when you get
grumpy or angry, we’re in this for the long haul. We’re in this for each other.”

  “See, that’s why I like you so much,” he said, surprising both of them.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing. You’re right. We should go see him,” Dan said.

  “I have figure drawing till nine o’clock—that seems like such a long time away. Do you think you could go after dinner, and I’ll come join you after class? It would mean a lot.”

  “Sure, no problem. I’ll tell him what you said, although I might leave out the ‘hey, idiot’ part. Hope you don’t mind.…”

  “No,” she said with a laugh, “that’s probably a smart idea. Thanks, Dan. See you later?”

  Dan nodded, waving good-bye as she grabbed her tray and left for class. He walked out of the Commons a few minutes later and followed the well-worn path back to the dorm. Just two more weeks of classes, and then they’d all be going home. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. At least Pittsburgh wasn’t too far away from New York. He bet it was an easy trip by train.

  Two police officers still monitored the entrance hall. They were there to provide peace of mind, but they only made Dan uneasy, as if there was something unresolved that the students weren’t being told. The tall cop who had interviewed Dan nodded to him in greeting as he went by. Dan tried not to read anything into the acknowledgment.

  Nobody was out and about on Jordan’s floor. Dan had noticed that most students had chosen to stay outside and away from Brookline as much as possible that day. That only reinforced Dan’s feeling that Jordan would be in, since he seemed so determined to avoid human company.

  There was no answer when Dan knocked on Jordan’s door. He knocked a little louder and waited, then pressed his ear to the door, wondering if maybe Jordan was in there but just refusing to answer. But no, he couldn’t hear anything inside the room. On a whim, he tried the doorknob. The door swung open.