Authors: Melody Carlson
My mom nods now, as if she has resigned herself to this sudden change of plans. “But what about these Goldens, Alice? They sound like good people.”
I nod. “They seem nice.”
I’m afraid to say too much or to voice any concerns. I’m certainly not going to lay all my cards on the table just now. I can’t imagine what my mother, or Faye for that matter, would think if I suddenly announced that I’m pregnant, possibly with God’s baby, and that I’m afraid the Goldens are planning to lock me up until the child is born and then to dispose of me as quickly and neatly as possible. Without a trace, I am sure. I admit that it sounds slightly bizarre even to me right now. But there are times when I am absolute certain about such things.
“How about if we make a deal?” suggests my mom.
“What kind of deal?” Another wave of suspicion washes over me. What if the Goldens have been in contact with her too? What if they are working with everyone I know and almost trust. Like Simon and my mom now. Why, even Faye seems to think they’re wonderful.
“If I let you stay with Faye, will you promise me that you’ll look into the Goldens’ hospital or clinic or whatever it is they call it?”
My chest grows tighter, as if I’m losing control of everything all over again. But I take in a deep breath and tell myself just to chill.
Play the game
. Then I sense Amelia leaning over my shoulder, and I hear her whispering to me. “Say whatever it takes to get your mom off your back and out of here. You can sort it all out later.”
“Can you do that for me, Alice?” My mom is looking directly into my eyes, like she used to do when she thought I was lying. “Dr.
Spangler mentioned that you could use some additional treatment. I promised her I’d try to find you something. Maybe this is the answer, Alice. Will you at least check them out?”
I lock eyes with her, thinking that I’d better follow Amelia’s advice this time. Just agree and get this over with as quickly as possible. “You mean just go up and look around?” I say.
“Yes, just look around and talk to them.”
I nod. “Sure, I can do that.”
My mom smiles, and I can tell she thinks she is victorious. I smile too, playing along, as I stroke Cheshire’s fur. The warm, smoothing motion helps to calm my churning insides. I know without a doubt that I must come up with another plan now, and soon. Somewhere I can go and be safe—just until the baby is born. Hopefully Faye won’t push too hard on me to keep my promise to my mom.
Finally my mom announces she should go. I pretend to be sad as I stand and give her a hug. Mostly I am tired and worried and scared. As soon as Mom is gone, I turn to Faye and excuse myself to my room.
“I’m sure you must be exhausted, dear. You go and sleep as long as you like.”
As long as I like? I wonder how long that would be. Forever perhaps? As I lie on the bed, I can barely remember that sweet sense of peace I experienced during what I’m now sure must’ve been my coma era. But I can faintly recall that warm white cocoon that seemed to envelop me—safe, secure, peaceful. I look up at the stained ceiling tiles and long for that kind of peace again.
My peace I give you
.
chapter
THIRTY-TWO
I’m Late, I’m Late
T
he next morning I overhear Faye speaking on the telephone. She probably thinks I’m still asleep in bed, but I am wide awake and standing in the hallway, listening.
“She seems better,” she says. “Yes, she told her mother that she is willing to go up there and look around.”
I tiptoe closer to the kitchen, straining my ears to hear each word.
“That is very kind of you, Julie. You know I don’t drive. Yes, I think around noon would be just fine. Yes, I’ll tell her.”
I slink back down the hallway to my room. I know what they are doing. They are arranging to have me transported to the Golden Home.
“It’s time to go, kiddo,” says Amelia as she steps behind the door to my bedroom. “I’m warning you, they’re onto you. They want that baby.”
Without answering her, I close the door and begin to dress in layer after layer of clothes. Three pairs of socks make Faye’s old rubber boots a bit tight, but I know I won’t be sorry once I hit the streets.
The city is cold in January. I top all this with my army-green coat and a hat that Faye knitted for me herself. It’s made from all her leftover yarn and looks like a rainbow. Worried that he might try to follow me, I scoot Cheshire out of the bedroom and close the door. Then I open the window and climb out.
I double over with pain as I hit the ground. My ribs ache as if they’ve cracked all over again. I realize I can’t reach up to close the window again, and I feel a little guilty, letting all that cold air into Faye’s warm little house.
“Don’t worry about that,” says Amelia. “Don’t forget that Faye is betraying you right now. She’s in there plotting with Julie and Dr. Golden. Even your mom’s in on it.”
I nod as I hold on to my middle, trying to contain the pain. Hunched over I make my way through the wet grass in Faye’s backyard.
“Hurry,” she urges me on. “Get far away from this evil place, and never come back.”
I cut through the alley that passes between the backyards of the houses and slowly make my way down toward the MAX stop. After a few blocks the pain seems to subside a little, and I can stand up straighter as I try to walk faster. I used to worry about using public transportation, afraid that I’d be spotted by a pursuer, but my body isn’t up to a long walk today. Besides, I think it may be all right this time since it’s possible no one knows I’ve escaped just yet.
Amelia warns me not to look at anyone, so I keep my eyes down, avoiding onlookers’ glances as I wait for the train to arrive. Then I climb on quickly, taking a seat next to the door just in case I have to get off fast. I haven’t had time to formulate any sort of plan yet, but at least I have a destination. I know that I lasted a few weeks down
by the river park before. I can probably do it again, but I must remember to be very careful.
My face is wet as I step off of the MAX in the city center. I didn’t even know I’d been crying. Was it for Cheshire? Or Faye? Or maybe for myself. I think about going up to the hospital to see Simon. I’m not even sure why. I guess there’s a tiny part of me that hopes I can trust him, and yet I don’t know why I hold on to this. Maybe it’s because he is so helpless with his casts and traction devices. Perhaps that makes him safer, makes me believe that he can’t really hurt me. Then again, I’m not so sure. There are all sorts of pain.
I make my way through the shopping district, imagining that I am blending into the crowd of fast-walking shoppers. It’s too bad I don’t have a bag to carry. It seems that everyone has bags today. Then I realize they are probably still returning their unwanted Christmas gifts. I remember when I worked at Nordstrom last Christmas season—was that only a year ago?—that the first business day after Christmas was such a killer. By the end of my shift, the cash register was more than seventeen thousand dollars in the hole. At the time I thought it was rather ironic and pitiful. Today I wish I were one of those people who actually had a gift to return. I remember that Aaron said he’d gotten me something. I guess it’s still at my mom’s house. If it’s really true. Aaron may be in on this.
“Trust no one,” says Amelia.
I walk over to a tram stop and sit down like I know what I am doing. I guess I have decided to visit Simon after all.
“What are you doing?” demands Amelia.
“I need to see Simon.” I try to keep my voice calm. “Just one last time.”
“No!” she screams. I look around to see if she frightened anyone, but no one seems to care if she throws a fit. “No, you are not going up there, Alice!”
“I have to,” I tell her in a firm voice.
“You are a complete fool!” she yells, along with another string of profanity.
“Leave me alone,” I tell her. I notice the man with the newspaper moving away from me now, glancing nervously from the corner of his eye.
Amelia stamps off, and I wait for the right train to come, and with shaking hands I climb on. If only Amelia could understand that this is a one-time event. It’s not like I’m stupid. I know it’s only a matter of time before they sound the alarms and announce to everyone that Alice is on the run again. And maybe it is foolish, but I need to see Simon, and it’s as if the risk is driving me now.
It’s almost ten o’clock when I walk through the big double doors of the hospital. Without speaking or looking at anyone, I ride the elevator up to the fourth floor and head straight to Simon’s room. But when I get there, I hear people talking, and for a moment I am certain that Dr. Golden is already here, on the alert and looking for me. I wonder how he found out about me so soon. And how did he know I’d come here? I stand out of sight behind the door and listen intently. But soon I realize that it’s only Simon’s doctor talking to him about his progress. I decide to hang out in the rest room for a while until he leaves.
“Alice!” exclaims Stacy as I enter the rest room. “What are you doing back here?”
I frown and search my scattered mind for an appropriate answer. “I have an appointment,” I say quickly.
She nods, but I can tell by her eyes that she doesn’t completely believe me.
“And I wanted to say hi to Simon,” I add.
This seems to satisfy her as she rubs her hands beneath the blow dryer. “That’s nice,” she says. “I heard he’s finally getting out of traction today. I’ll bet he can’t wait.”
“Yeah.” I go into a stall and close the door, hoping she will go.
Then I hear Amelia’s voice. I can tell she is very, very angry. “Why did you come here, you stupid little fool? Don’t you know this is the first place they will look for you? What is wrong with you, Alice? Why don’t you listen to me? You are such a fool!”
Leave me alone, I am thinking. Just go away! I press my hands to my mouth, afraid that Stacy might still be there listening, that she might alert security. I listen and hear the door open and close. I wait a few minutes and hear only the sound of a dripping toilet. Finally I emerge. No one is there. Now I’m not sure whether to listen to Amelia and get out of here or to stop by and speak to Simon. I slip out into the hallway, and avoiding a particularly unfriendly nurse, I turn left and head directly toward Simon’s room. I pause by the door, and when I am certain he is alone, I stick in my head and am immediately spotted.
“Alice!” he calls out in what sounds like a happy voice. “Come in.”
I walk in and glance around. I am afraid they will be here shortly. That I will have to make a run for it, bolt out the door, and use an emergency exit to get away. But so far I see no one.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Okay.”
His smile seems to fade as he peers at me more closely. “Are you really okay?”
I shrug and move a step closer to his bed.
“You don’t look okay.”
“Thanks a lot.” I glance over my shoulder now. Feeling jumpy. Very jumpy.
“Get out of here, you fool!” Amelia is standing in the corner of the room just yelling at me. “Run while you’ve got the chance.”
I want to press my hands over my ears, but I control myself.
“Look, Alice,” Simon says. “I know this is hard for you. But you’ve got to listen to me, okay?”
I don’t know what to do. Something in me really wants to listen to him. But at the same time Amelia sounds like she’s going to go berserk if I don’t make a move—and fast.
“I know what you’re experiencing feels real, Alice. And I understand that you find it difficult to trust anyone. To believe that anyone—” He stops abruptly. “You’re hearing the voices right now, aren’t you, Alice?”
I look over my shoulder again, ready to run.
“Listen to me, Alice. I am real. They are not. Do you know that?”
I use all my energy to focus my attention on him, and at the moment I can believe him. I slowly nod. “I think so. Right now anyway.”
“Okay. I know what you’re up against—”
“How can you know, Simon?” I shake my head, suddenly afraid
that he’s stringing me along too. “How on earth can you possibly know?”
“Alice.” His voice is calm. “I want you to listen to me, okay? Really tune into my voice. I know what you’re going through because my mother had schizophrenia too. Do you understand me?”
I stare at him now, unsure that he’s being truthful with me. “Honestly?” I ask him, trying to see into his eyes, to detect the signs if he’s not telling the truth.
“Honestly.” He shakes his head now, and his eyes get sad. “I don’t like telling people about this, but I want to tell you. Are you listening?”
I slowly move my chin up, then down. I think that I am listening.
“Okay.” He takes a breath. “According to my grandma, my mom started displaying symptoms not long after I was born. I even used to think that having me was what made her go crazy. At first the doctors thought it was postpartum depression, but instead of getting better, she got worse and worse. Finally I was taken away from her, and she was hospitalized. In a pretty bad place too.”
“Like Forest Hills?”
He nods. “Yes, very similar. Anyway, when I was little, I would go visit her with my grandma, but she never seemed like a real person to me. And she never acted like a mother. She didn’t really seem to know who I was.”
This sounds like my grandma.
He leans his head back now and sighs loudly, as if this next part is hard to tell. But I am listening. I even take another step forward, not wanting to miss a word.
“When I started junior high school, I refused to go see her
anymore. I told my grandma I was too busy, but it was really because, as an ignorant teenager, I was embarrassed to have a mom in the nut house. Besides, I figured if she didn’t know whether I was there or not, how would she notice if I didn’t come? And, honestly, she was so doped up that she probably didn’t. But then when I was just starting high school, she killed herself. Slit her wrists right there in the hospital. Used a pocketknife that she’d somehow gotten from an orderly. And just like that she was gone.”
I take another step toward his bed and put my hand on his cast. “I’m sorry,” I say. Tears pool in his eyes, and I have no reason to doubt his story.