Outside, the air was thick and sticky; the summer sun brilliant in a clear blue sky. At the dumpster at the side of the building, I reached into the bag and grabbed three or four of Thea’s drawings, rolled them into a tube and stuffed it into my back pocket, then tied the bag and tossed it into the dumpster.
“Whatcha got there, Jim?”
Shit…
The dumpster lid slammed down, nearly smashing my fingers. I turned my back to it, my heart pounding as Alonzo approached.
“N-N-Nothing,” I said.
“Mighty hot out for chattering teeth.” He cocked his head. “Nervous? Show me this ‘nothing.’”
Now you’ll lose your job, you big dummy.
I inhaled, exhaled, and handed over the rolled-up drawings.
Alonzo unrolled the papers and tucked a cigarette in his mouth. “You an art fan?”
“No, sir,” I said.
“You mind telling me why you’re saving Miss Hughes’ drawings from the trash?”
I straightened, crossed my arms. If he was going to fire me, may as well tell the truth. “Didn’t seem right to throw them away.”
He nodded and rolled the papers up again. “Come sit.”
My arms dropped, and I followed him to a bench that faced the Blue Ridge’s west wing. Crickets chirped and flitted in the tall grass as Alonzo lit his smoke.
“The word chains, right?”
I nodded. Alonzo started to speak when movement above caught our eyes. Thea appeared in the window of her room. She didn’t look down but put her hand on the glass and stared out over the forest, to the mountains in the distance.
“You can’t be looking at her like that,” Alonzo said.
I flinched and tore my gaze from Thea. “I’m not—”
“And you can’t be taking nothing from the sanitarium. If Delia Hughes knew you did this, she’d have your ass, no questions asked.”
“They feel important,” I said in a low voice. “Those word chains—”
“They aren’t your business, son. We been over this. She isn’t like you or me. She looks pretty. Healthy. She smiles a lot. But she’s brain damaged. Brain damaged.”
I shuddered. “I know.”
“Do you?” Alonzo cocked his head. “You’re reading into her scribbles like they’re a secret code. You look at her like there’s hope.”
“Hope…?”
“Hope she’s going to get better.”
“Don’t we all want that for these patients?”
Alonzo narrowed his eyes. “We do, but I told you, they’re not going to get better. Miss Hughes isn’t going to get better. Not today or tomorrow. Not ten years from now. The doctors have been all over her case. They’ve seen these.” He waved the drawings. “And there’s nothing they can do.”
I shifted on the bench, the weight of his words like a prison sentence being handed down to Thea. Twenty-three years old, with no other health issues. She could easily live to be… seventy? Eighty? Sixty more years in this place? Sixty years of drawings, introductions, and How long has it been? All the while, somehow knowing she was trapped with no way to get out.
I couldn’t fucking imagine it.
“There’s nothing they can do?” I asked. “Nothing at all?”
“Althea Hughes has one of the worse documented case of amnesia in medical history,” Alonzo said. “If there were something to be done, her doctors would do it.”
I sank back against the bench. “She’s trapped.”
Alonzo studied me a moment more then ground out his cigarette and picked up the butt. “Watch yourself, son.”
My head whipped up to meet his gaze. “I would n-n-never—”
“Never take her personal property home with you?”
He’s right. I sound like a fucking stalker.
“I get feelings about people,” Alonzo said. “Been good at reading them. I suspect you’re a good man, but this is your warning. Watch yourself and watch your hope. Watch that you don’t want Miss Hughes to get better just for her sake but for yours too.”
He handed me the drawings.
“I take it you know where to put these?”
I nodded.
“Good. See you in there.”
He walked away and when he was gone, I let the drawings uncurl in my loose grip.
Leave this to her doctors.
They were neurosurgeons and psychologists with years of training and education. I was an orderly with a high school diploma.
I stood up and headed back toward the dumpster. I shot a last glance up at the window, but Thea wasn’t there anymore.
She’s not there anymore.
Feeling more and more like a stalker infringing on patient privacy, I hoisted the heavy dumpster lid with one hand. It felt almost obscene to put artwork of this caliber in the garbage, but I should’ve left them alone in the first place. It was wrong to take them. Unprofessional. I was lucky Alonzo hadn’t fired me.
I reaffirmed my vow not to get involved in Thea Hughes’ care any more than an orderly should. It was none of my business.
I stuffed the pages in, and the heavy lid slammed down, pinning a drawing so that its corner stuck out against the rusted green metal. A word chain jumped out at me, like a goddamn five-alarm siren.
Bye lie cry try fly sly sigh high hail hell help help help
Chapter 7
Jim
I was in the employee break room, taking my fifteen minutes off when Rita burst in.
“Oh Jim, thank God, you’re here.”
“What’s up?”
“I have to attend to Ms. Perkins right now and Nurse Eric is out sick today. Would you mind taking Miss Hughes out for her FAE?”
I hesitated. Over the last few days, I’d been good at avoiding Thea. Doing my job. Keeping my head down. I didn’t talk to her in the rec room, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to think about her word chains. I had to believe Alonzo when he said the doctors knew what they were doing or else I’d lose my mind.
“I’m sorry, I know you’re on break,” Rita said. “I wouldn’t ask but there’s no one else—”
“N-No, it’s fine,” I said. “I can take her.”
So much for keeping my head down.
“Thanks a ton. She’s in the cafeteria finishing a snack.” She tapped the doorjamb. “If you could hurry before she wanders to the front door again…?”
I headed to the dining room. In the hallway outside, I spied a doctor I hadn’t seen before conferring with a few other specialists from Roanoke. Mid-thirties, sleek black hair, intelligence sharp in her eyes.
“Hey, Joaquin,” I asked as he passed. “Who’s that?”
“Dr. Christina Chen,” he said. “New arrival from Australia. Word is, she’s interested in Miss Hughes.”
“Interested? What’s that mean?”
Joaquin shrugged. “Have you seen Dr. Stevens around at all? Me neither,” he said before I could answer. “Interested is better than nothing.”
I nodded. For days, I’d been telling Thea the doctors were working on her case. Maybe this meant it was finally true.
In the dining room, Thea sat at a table, an empty plate and a half glass of lemonade in front of her. She wore the usual drab clothes they put her in but beautiful in the summer light streaming in from the tall windows.