The Wrath of Jeremy (13 page)

So October twenty-fifth came, and their
nerves were flaring, anxiety was building, with them hardly being
in the mood to eat as the three of them were having lunch in a
separate cafeteria that allowed them to not be in contact with the
other patients. It was Mary’s doings that allowed them to get this
special treatment.

Gabriel gawked at his meat loaf that shined
out in its fatty, yellow meat, saying as he swallowed a gulp of his
acid-filled saliva, “I’m nervous, guys.”

Jeremy nodded his head, sitting across from
Gabriel, with Michael sitting to Gabriel’s right. Jeremy took a sip
of his milk, and responded to them both, “I know—me, too. Tomorrow
is the day.”

Jeremy scanned the large, vacant cafeteria,
seeing guards, techs and nurses behind the large, glass window that
stood by the locked entrance of the room, and slowly pulled out a
piece of toilet paper from his armpit. Being that Jeremy, Michael
and Gabriel sat at a single table, which was the only piece of
furniture in the room in the very center of the cafeteria, they had
to be sneaky, seeing the guards, on the outside of the room,
staring in at them from time to time. Jeremy placed the toilet
paper in his lap, and saw that Michael started to scan the room as
well. Michael whispered, “Alright, listen, guys, after we leave
tomorrow night, where the hell are we going? This whole time we
were discussing how to get out of here, but we never discussed
where we’re going. Maybe we are nuts.”

Jeremy and Gabriel looked at each other as
Jeremy pulled out the toilet paper from his lap and placed it near
his tray filled with a slice of half-eaten meat loaf. Then Jeremy
looked at Michael with demanding eyes, responding, “I know, I
thought about that also…and I came up with a conclusion. After we
leave here, we take a taxi to the nearest seaport, and from there
we steal a boat and take it to Jerusalem. All we need is a map and
compass.”

Laughter struck a chord in Michael’s throat,
as he giggled, “That’s a good plan, Double-O Nuts. But if my memory
serves me correctly, every person on this side of California will
know that a few nutcases escaped from Grewsal, they’ll know even
before we get in the taxi. Grewsal is networked to every major news
station, and once they find out—which they will—that we broke out
of this hell-hole, all they have to do is press a button, type in
our names, and bingo, are faces become more famous than the word
‘famous’. Plus, three nutcases over a large body of water for a
long distance, with only a compass to guide—I don’t think so. This
is reality, Jeremy, try living it once!”

Luckily the guards who stood outside the room
were too busy conversing with the nurses and techs, and didn’t hear
the laughter. Gabriel scanned the room once again, and looked at
the guards outside, seeing that their eyes weren’t on them. Gabriel
interrupted Michael’s speech with: “Listen, guys, Jesus, or some
voice said that the help is with me, or it’s with us. So, if we
need help, then he will be there for us.” Not even a second after
Gabriel’s last word, Michael busted out with laughter. “It’s not
funny, Michael!”

“I don’t believe it, Jeremy, you made my
brother just as crazy as you are!”

“Faith…we have to have faith, Michael,” spoke
Gabriel. Michael’s laughter ceased and a serious face took
over.

Jeremy became infuriated toward their
conversation. Since they were only to discuss how to execute the
plan, Jeremy’s frustration turned into words as he explained, “For
right now, let’s just concentrate on getting out of here. Once we
do, then we’ll discuss how we’re going to get to the Holy City, or
wherever it is. We just have to get there.”

Suddenly the silence of the room was pierced
with a noise of the door opening, which made the three of them turn
to face it momentarily. In their view was Mary, their doctor of
beauty, approaching them with a smile. She asked politely, “Hi,
boys, how are you all doing today?”

Before their thoughts could turn into words
to answer Mary’s question of casual kindness, her cellphone rang in
her white lab coat that reeked of new perfume, smelling like fresh
roses with a ting of alcohol.

“Oh, we’re fine, thank you,” Jeremy answered,
with suspicion in his voice.

Mary nodded to them and answered her phone.
Walking away from them slowly, she pressed the “on” button that her
cellphone had and faced the other direction, so they wouldn’t
understand her conversation.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Mary Callahan?” the voice
asked.

“Why yes it is. Who’s this?”

“This is Frank Stevens,” Frank answered while
looking at David through a hole that was the only source of light
that shimmered into David’s cell. Frank stood in the jailhouse,
surrounded by three guards, while gaping through the hole in the
steel door and seeing David’s confused eyes staring back at
his.

“Um, your name doesn’t ring a bell—do I know
you?” Mary questioned, playing with her red hair, showing that it
was a nervous habit by the amount of knots she made in a short
time. She began pulling on her hair, since it always made her
nervous when she didn’t know who she was talking to. After working
in a mental institution night and day, hour after hour, it’s almost
a law to know whom you speak to before you begin speaking. But then
she stopped pulling, playing and teasing with it, realizing that it
was beginning to hurt. There was no answer on the phone, nothing
except breath. So she waited patiently, understanding that maybe
this was a prank call.

Without a moment for her to hang up, the
voice named “Frank Stevens” coughed for a second, causing Mary to
jump back in fright. Frank said, “Listen, I don’t have a lot of
time to waste, so I’m going to make it simple. Last week I heard
about you, I heard that you help severely disturbed individuals, or
whatever you call them these days. I also heard that you are
already helping three others who have this kind of sickness in
them!” Frank was in panic: trepidation filled his already
anxiety-filled mind, so much so that he didn’t even notice that
David walked up to the hole and was trying to listen through it to
hear Frank’s words.

“What kind of sickness are you referring to,
Mr. Stevens?” she asked in an apprehensive manner while staring at
the boys from a distance. She circled the entire cafeteria, waiting
for his reply.

“Does seeing statues and crosses move ring a
bell?” he asked abruptly, causing Mary to drop the phone in
shock.

She stared at the phone, her eyes frozen in a
strict glare, watching it as it lay motionless on the cold, green
cafeteria floor, feeling the shock of knowing that there was
another person out there with the same condition, which made her
stomach turn in an upside-down cyclone. She rapidly went to pick up
the phone, waiting to hear more information that Frank had. Mary
couldn’t believe that he knew about this so-called “sickness.” It
was confidential, no one knew, no one except for the staff at
Grewsal and the parents of Jeremy, Michael and Gabriel.

“Doctor Callahan, I have a young man right
next to me who is presently suffering from this illness. I’m
currently standing in a jail right now and looking at this boy.
He’s in a jail cell. The judge held a hearing yesterday for him and
ruled that he is legally insane. Miss Callahan, I need you to come
as soon as possible to pick up this kid and take him to your
institution. If you don’t, another institution will take him
instead. Since I am a close friend to the family, I want him to be
helped instead of thrown in another nuthouse and left to rot. Am I
making myself clear?” Frank’s words were tangled in firmness,
sincerity and strictness, yearning to make Mary understand that he
needed her help. Looking at his watch, seeing that it read 6:04
p.m., Frank breathed a loud breath of cold air into the phone,
wanting to let Mary know that time was short, that his patience was
almost gone.

“Oh yes, yes you are. How soon do you want me
to pick him up?”

“Today,” Frank replied before David suddenly
stuck his arm through the hole of the cell and tried grabbing at
Frank’s neck, missing him, but scratching Frank’s face in the
process.

“Alright, I’ll take the first plane there.
Um, where are you?”

Frank explained the address and more
information to Mary. After she hung up, she walked over to Jeremy,
Gabriel and Michael, feeling excited to know that another patient
might be linked to the boys, dividing hope from despair. “Some cure
or a lead to a cure might be possible,” she spoke under her breath,
comprehending that this had to be a breakthrough into another
unknown virus or disease that she had tapped into by seeing Jeremy,
Michael, Gabriel and now another; it had to be linked. “Yes, I knew
there were more of them out there with this sickness. That means
there has to be some sort of explanation for it,” she breathed out
under her breath, walking up to the boys slowly. She explained to
them that she’d be going to New York, but she would be back later
on tonight. She stared into each of their eyes, and saw
wretchedness in them. The sadness was the fact that they would miss
her, and another fact that Gabriel would speak of. As Mary walked
out of the cafeteria, Gabriel started crying, defining his own
reason for showing despondency and gloom toward Mary’s exit.

“Why are you crying?” Jeremy asked as he
patted him on the back.

Gabriel tried to hide his tears from the
guards who started to watch closely through the window of the
cafeteria, as he felt that if they saw his weakness they would try
to pick at it. Yet Gabriel’s nervous self caused him to retort,
“Because, as soon as she goes, they’ll hurt us.” He knew what would
happen once she left, thinking about how Victor stuffed roaches in
his mouth, and still feeling them bunched within his gums, tasting
the unbearable taste. Gabriel knew what would begin once Mary left
Grewsal. Knowing that Mary basically lived in the west wing of
Grewsal, wanting to be there night and day for her patients,
Gabriel was sickened by his imagination, envisioning her leaving
the west wing behind for a bit, wondering what the techs, nurses
and doctors would become and do to them. He apprehended that he was
going to get something else, besides having roaches stuffed in his
mouth; something that was beyond his fear-filled mentality.

“Who will hurt us?”

Gabriel stared at Jeremy’s inquiry,
distinguishing it in his mind, having Michael answer for him, since
it was too hard for Gabriel to speak the hurt out loud that he
endured.

Michael patted Gabriel on the back, and
answered Jeremy, “The guards, doctors, nurses and techs! Before you
and Gabriel came here, she used to leave a lot. Every time she left
to go help out a patient across the country, the guards or techs,
or anyone working here, used to hurt me ruthlessly. Gabriel had a
piece of what I mean. The first day he got admitted into Grewsal,
that fat-ass nurse, Victor, stuffed roaches in his mouth!”

Jeremy’s mouth dropped in utter shock. He
shouted, “What? You can’t be serious….” Jeremy covered his own
mouth, forgetting that he had to be quiet or else the guards
outside would get suspicious of their actions. So he lowered his
tone a bit. “Listen, everything will be okay, we’re leaving
tomorrow night and never looking back at this place again.”

“Yeah, tonight I want you two to meet me in
my room. Come in through the vent, that way the guards won’t see
you,” Michael explained, halting his words swiftly at the sight of
Victor walking in the room and bellowing out that their dinner time
was over with.

The vent was their only way of getting in and
seeing each other; it was their escape to privacy without cameras
watching every word they spoke. Cameras were everywhere in Grewsal,
the hallways, the foyer and even their rooms, but Michael’s room
held a broken camera that Grewsal still failed to fix. The vent was
Jeremy and Gabriel’s only way to get into Michael’s dungeon and
leave their own.

Yet, even with Jeremy knowing already how to
get into Michael’s room, he still had to question, “Why?” because
he sought to recognize the reasons for them going to his room.

Victor yelled it out again, his voice ringing
louder, scaring the three enough to make the acid from their
stomachs jump up to their throats. Michael didn’t even look at
Victor; instead he countered Jeremy, whispering, “Stop the
questions, man. Because—I’m the only one that has a cross in my
room. I want us to pray for guidance. I know it’s clichéd, but once
Mary leaves, everything will change here, you’ll see, Jeremy.
Besides, as soon as she goes, Victor and that asshole doctor,
Curtis, will take down the crosses in all our rooms. They’re evil,
Jeremy. I’m the only one that stashed a cross under my mattress.
Damn. I know it sounds crazy, but we’re the ones who see them
moving, so why not use them for help.”

Victor stood right in front of them, spit a
large piece of gum on their table, and yelled, “Are you deaf? I
told you that dinner time was over with, now get your butts
moving!”

They all went up to their rooms and looked
out of their barred windows, watching calmly and closely as Mary
exited the building and got into her car. Bitterness stood straight
in their minds, gripping their souls and fighting their hope,
seeing Mary leaving, allowing their depression to win. The fear
built up in their minds, as they watched her drive away from
Grewsal. They were trapped in its sinister dungeon, that would show
its true evil when they least expected it. They feared not knowing
what would happen to them when Victor and all the other workers
came to their bedrooms. They watched her drive away, knowing that
something darkly sinister would show itself to them; what color it
would be was something they had no idea could ever exist.

At five minutes after midnight, Michael
looked up at his ceiling, feeling the coldness of the room, since
the staff of Grewsal had turned off any heat that would travel into
each of their quarters, just to be wicked. Michael grabbed a thin
cover from his lumpy bed and just stared. He kept his eyes on his
vent that was in the center of his room, watching and listening for
any noises that came from it; he also took watch over his door. He
knew, if Victor or someone came in while Gabriel and Jeremy snuck
through his vent, that all Hell would break loose, literally. He
watched the clock on his wall as the time turned to 12:30, feeling
frustrated as he walked back and forth in his room, awaiting the
arrival of them. His gaze fell on the clock more and more. The
second hand moved to the next second ever so slowly and he pondered
the frustration of how slow time goes, and wondered who began the
second hand, who gave it life. “How did time begin, and why did it
start?” were the questions that circled through his mind, and what
happens if this sickness has a time limit leading to his death?