by B L Teschner
My thumb caressed Millie’s as I watched David sitting isolated in his wheelchair. Just a day ago he was throwing punches at Cory’s friend, and now he looked like a mindless shell of a human being. The other kids at his table groaned with disgust and slid further away from him as a string of drool poured away from his lower lip. David was gonna be pissed when he finally came to.
* * *
Connor
My eyes couldn’t have been more open; the skin felt like it was going to tear apart at their corners. David was sitting beside me in group therapy with his hands folded neatly on his lap and a smile on his face. Our chairs were close together—way too close together—and I was sinking to one side the best I could to get away from him, choosing instead to graze arms with the crazy kid Trevor who tortured his siblings at home.
Just last night David was slumped in a wheelchair in a mindless daze, and now it was as if he was a whole new person; everything about his demeanor had changed. He was smiling instead of offering us his usual scowl. He was sitting taller. And he put off an air of approachableness that he never even came close to emitting before. His hair was void of his usual jelled spikes and was clean and brushed back away from his face, giving him a softer edge. The only thing about him that was the same were his clothes. He had on baggy jeans and one of his usual black t-shirts with the picture of some heavy-metal rock band on the front.
“Let’s all welcome David back, shall we?” Dominic said.
You could hear a pin drop in the room.
“I’m glad to be back,” David said with a warm smile.
Dominic’s face lit up to match his. “I’m so glad our program is working out for you.” His eyes scanned the rest of us. “You see? I told you all there’s hope for you yet.”
Eight
Millie
We all stared in shock at the two boys who were eating lunch at their own tables as if nothing had happened to them. We still weren’t used to it. How could they suddenly be happy people now? I mean, I didn’t know much about Cory’s friend, but I knew for a fact that David was an angry bully of a person, just by what Connor had told us. We also saw for ourselves how he had walked around with a chip on his shoulder, picking fights with everyone. Now he looked like a popular teenager who got good grades and was awaiting his acceptance letter to some expensive college. Well, besides his clothes. They were the same. But the way about him—his demeanor, the way he carried himself—it was a complete one-eighty. He was usually a loner, not wanting to make friends. But now he was surrounded by them. How could the other kids not see the oddness in this situation? Not all of them were so accepting, though. Looking around the room, there were whispers and shakes of heads, wrinkled foreheads and drawn-in eyebrows. I immediately knew who the smart kids were in the cafeteria. It was unfortunate that there weren’t that many.
I looked across the table at Connor, who was picking at the crust of his sandwich sitting on his tray. “Hey,” I said, leaning forward. “How’re you doing?”
He shrugged but kept his eyes on his food. “I don’t know.”
I straightened and looked at Toby beside me. “Connor told me earlier that it was like David was a different person in their therapy session.”
Toby’s eyes left mine and focused on Connor. “Maybe they just did a one-on-one session that really helped him.”
Layla’s eyes rolled. “Come on, Toby. You really think that’s what happened?”
Toby gave her a “shut up” look as his eyes cut back to Connor. “I’m just saying, I’m sure it can be easily explained.”
Toby didn’t believe that; none of us did, including Connor. But he was the youngest of our group and we all watched over him as older protective siblings, trying our best to ease his worries whether he could see right through us or not. I was sure he could.
“I talked to Cory a few minutes before lunch,” Layla went on. “They put his friend and David in their beds after dinner while they were still out of it. This morning they were able to sit up and talk, but I guess their words were a little slurred. But by the time breakfast was over they were up and ready for group therapy. Now they’re completely back to normal.”
“David’s not normal,” Connor said. “Normal for him is mean.”
“Normal as in they can walk and talk again,” Layla clarified. “Cory said his friend completely changed. He was sent here for stealing, just like you, Millie. I guess he was really bad, though. Cory said he stole a shirt out of his bag on the first day.”
“He stole out of his bag?” Dwayne repeated.
“Yeah.” She snorted as she stuck a chip into her mouth and continued to talk. “For whatever reason they became friends because of it. Anyway, he claims he has no desire to steal now.”
“Hey, let’s talk about something else,” Dwayne suggested.
“That’s just what we do,” Layla chided in beside him. “We sit here at every meal and eat while talking about the weird stuff that’s going on here.”
“Yeah we’re like The Breakfast Club,” Dwayne agreed with a chuckle. “You ever see that movie?”
Layla’s head shook. “Nope.”
“I think I saw it a long time ago,” I told him. “But they didn’t eat breakfast, did they? I don’t remember.”
“Well don’t spoil it for me,” Layla ordered before lifting her can of soda and taking a sip. She sat it back down with a soft clank. “If it’s good I don’t want you to spoil it for me.”
I focused back over at Connor’s slumped shoulders. “Hey, maybe we should call ourselves something. What do you think, Connor?”
His eyes cut up at me. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we’re a pretty cool group of friends, don’t you think?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Yeah.”
“How about The Five Amigos?” Dwayne suggested.
“Lame,” Layla replied beside him.
Dwayne scoffed. “Well I don’t hear you coming up with any ideas.”
“Um, we literally just started thinking of ideas, moron.”
“How about The Five Morons?” Toby joked.
“The Sinning Morons,” I added with a laugh.
Toby’s hand found mine and he pulled it over to rest with his on his leg. “The Sorons?”
We all laughed, including Connor.
“The Framed Sinners,” Layla put in. “We’re totally being framed for all this sinning crap.”
“The Frinners?” Dwayne suggested.
We all chuckled, but not as much as the first name mash.
Connor’s shoulders pulled back for a moment as he stretched them, letting them fall again to their slumped position as his eyes stayed on his tray. “The Virtuous Five.”
We looked around at each other with easy smiles, a little surprised by his use of such a mature word. “I think that’s it,” I said, focusing over at Connor. “That’s a great name.”
“Here, here,” Dwayne spoke up in an exaggerated old British-type accent, which made us chuckle. “We shall not suffer condemnation any longer. Let it be observed that from henceforth we shall officially be referred to as, The Virtuous Five.”
* * *
The storm had finally come in, so we couldn’t go outside and lay on the grass. Even if we wanted to go outside, they weren’t letting us for some reason. The main doors to the outside had been locked since the kids came back in wheelchairs. Whoever complained about it was told that it was the next phase in treatment, that they wanted us all to learn to play games in the gym and club room and socialize with each other better. So we gathered in the club room to play cards. It was a little crowded, but it was kinda nice. There weren’t any of the staff around, which was typical. I wondered what they did half the time we were there. But I wasn’t complaining about them being absent at all.
There was a certain calmness to the room. The long thick curtains were drawn away from the windows so we could see the storm blowing the trees outside. The rain was pattering against the glass, running down in he
avy streams. There was a large original fireplace on the back wall that held a dancing fire that put off a calming glow around the muted room. I actually felt relaxed, and it seemed like my friends felt the same. Well, everyone except for Dwayne.
“Are you okay, Dwayne?” I asked. “Got any nines?” I then asked my Go Fish partner, Layla.
Dwayne shook his head down at his game of Solitaire. “I’m a little pissed off right now.”
“Why?” a couple of us asked in unison.
“Because they want to put me on a diet.”
“What?” Toby asked beside him. “Why would they do that?”
“Jan, that secretary lady, stopped me today on my way into the restroom and told me the news. Apparently they think I need to be put on one.”
“I don’t think you need to be put on a diet,” Connor told him.
“Did they say anything else?” Layla asked.
Dwayne looked up and leaned forward, his arms resting on his line of cards. “‘Everything in moderation’, is what Jan told me. And, ‘You’re supposed to be here for gambling, not overindulgence’.”
“What did you tell her?” I asked.
“I told her I like the way I am.”
“So what do you have to eat now?” Toby asked.
“She didn’t say, she just said instead of me going in the line to get my food that the cook will bring me my tray.”
“I wonder what your parents would say about that,” I said, looking down at my cards in thought.
“They’d probably be happy I’m going on a diet,” Dwayne muttered.
Layla scoffed. “We’ll never find out; calling our parents is a sin.”
“I just wanna go home,” Connor told us, his voice barely above a whisper.
Layla gave his shoulder a playful shove with hers. “We’re almost halfway through the program and we’ll be done. You’ll be able to get through it. I mean, how much worse can it get?”
* * *
The cafeteria quieted when Martha made her appearance, her presence looming as usual. How could that washed-up of an old woman put off such a negative vibe? I didn’t know, but she always did. She wasn’t the muscle; she wasn’t the brains. But everything began and ended with Martha Bane, and we all knew it.
Her low heels clicked against the tiled floors. “Good evening, patients. How are you all enjoying your stay here with us?”
Silence.
“Oh we love it,” Dwayne whispered sarcastically.
David raised his hand. “I have thoroughly enjoyed my experience here,” he said proudly.
We all eyed each other and I instinctively scooted closer to Toby, sliding my hand into his for him to squeeze like he normally did in a comforting way.
Martha’s hands clasped together in front of her. “Magnificent! Do you all see the wonderful progress David has made here?”
“And I have as well,” Cory’s friend put in from somewhere across the room. I spotted him and saw that he had a black eye from his fight with David. “It’s been a wonderful program,” he added.
“Don’t try to steal my affection,” Martha joked, referring to his sin of stealing which had now apparently magically disappeared after he did for that period of time.
“I’m waiting for Blue to pop up next,” I admitted beside Toby’s ear. “But so far she’s still MIA.”
He squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry; I’m sure she’ll turn up eventually.”
“So,” Martha went on, “tonight we will be starting some new changes in the program. We will be collecting some more of you for individual counseling sessions, so don’t be surprised if you’re randomly escorted out in the middle of the day. Don’t worry; you’re not in trouble.” She paused to cackle at whatever it was she thought was funny about that statement. “Now, many of you have been put on diet restrictions, and those begin this evening. If you had listened to directions, that means you should not have served yourself yet, but should still be waiting for Sylvia to bring you your tray.”
“Why were those kids in wheelchairs before?” a random voice called out from somewhere in the room.
“Yeah and they were acting weird,” another voice added.
Martha’s jaw tightened but she retained her smile. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
A girl pointed across the room at David. “Him, and that other guy, too,” she said, changing her aim at Cory’s friend. “They were in wheelchairs acting all weird. And now they’re totally changed.”
A boy called out, “Yeah and why are all the doors locked now?”
Murmurs broke out across the room. “Patients,” Martha clipped, “I am asking you to please control yourselves. Silence, please.” The humming whispers continued, and her face grew angrier with each passing noisy second. “I said silence!” The room quieted in an instant. Martha’s red lipstick-covered lips twitched as she laced her hands behind the back of her skirt suit. “You will control yourselves, or you will be punished,” she finally said, her voice now low and promising. Her eyes scanned the room as her tongue rolled across the front of her teeth. “That will be all for tonight. Eat your dinner and go back to your rooms for bed. We will start fresh in the morning.”
When she spun around and left, the room felt a lot lighter. We focused on eating while Dwayne waited for his food. Hopefully his wouldn’t be too bad, because our dinner sure wasn’t. They had pot roast with brown gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, peas, and cherry pie. It all smelled so delicious.
Dwayne was frowning. “Man, this sucks.”
“Don’t count yourself out just yet,” Toby told him. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”
I noticed that there were many patients who were without trays, waiting to be served by the cook. Some were heavy, but many of them weren’t.
Layla noticed me staring. “That girl over there is a diabetic,” she said, nodding her head in her direction. “That’s probably why she’s being put on a diet restriction.”
Toby nodded to another. “That one over there with the brown hair—she’s got that, what do you call that? Messy bun?—she looks anorexic.”
“She is,” I told them. “Her name is Michelle; she’s in my group.”
“Maybe they’ll give her a tray of chocolate cake or something,” Layla joked.
“Don’t say chocolate cake,” Dwayne huffed beside her. His eyes cut across the room. “Oh god, guys, here she comes. What’s on the tray? Put it to me gently.”
The skinny old cook dropped the tray down in front of him. “Bon appétit,” she grumbled before walking away.
We all moved closer and stared down at it with Dwayne.
Toby was the first to offer support. “Chicken breast isn’t so bad.”
“Look how dry it is.” Dwayne reached forward and plucked a fork from the silverware cup. “There’s no juice,” he moaned as he moved the white meat around on his tray. “There’s no gravy.”
“I’ll give you some of my gravy,” Toby offered.
“Are you kidding me?” he said, his voice tight as he looked up at him. “Don’t you remember what I said about breaking the rules in here? I mean look at what happened to David and what’s his name. They ended up dummies in wheelchairs.”
“But they’re better now, aren’t they?” Connor asked.
“Yeah because they were probably tor—”
“Dwayne,” Layla quickly interrupted, “let’s not speculate anymore, okay?” She lowered herself back down to sit and we all followed suit. “Anyway, the salad they gave you looks good.”
“It has oil and vinegar on it.”
“There’s peas,” I put in. “You like peas.”
“Yeah, with butter and salt,” he scowled, nodding at my tray. “Like yours.” He focused back down at his. “And what’s this?” His hand motioned down at the orange sitting in one of the slots. “Is this supposed to be my dessert?”
“I’ll give you some of my dessert,” I offered.
He shook his head from sid
e to side and stuck his fork in the chicken, letting out a long heavy sigh before bringing it to his lips and taking a bite.
* * *
Toby walked me back to my room, holding my hand, being careful of any staff who might be lingering in the shadows watching. A few teens hurried past us, a couple of others talked excitedly about plans they had to get together after the program was over. It made me wonder about Toby, about whether or not I would see him again after all this.
We stopped a few feet short of the door to my bunk room. Toby kept his hand in mine and his thumb was rubbing back and forth, the friction making that part of my hand feel a little warmer than the rest.
I looked up at him, my forehead wrinkling. “I’m really scared, Toby. Tonight was so different.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“Did you feel it too?”
“I did, like something is changing. There was a different mood.”
“Exactly.” He squeezed my hand, and my forehead relaxed as I offered him a small smile. “Will I see you after all this is over?”
“You mean once we go back home?”
“Yeah.”
His face lit up. “Of course. We’ll exchange numbers and I’ll plan to drive out and visit you right away.”
“Really?” The thought elated me.
“Absolutely. One state away isn’t too far.” His lips turned up in a lopsided smile. “But then again, no state would be.” I gazed into his beautiful eyes. They were like two wells of blue water, and I was drowning in them. His hand came up to move the hair away from the side of my face. “You’re so beautiful, Millie,” he told me honestly. “I really think so.”
It was the first time a boy had ever told me I was beautiful. He leaned in, and I knew he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to.