Authors: K Larsen
My casts come off today and for that I am thankful. My arm and leg both look sickly when they remove them. Grayish and scaly. The muscles in them are barely visible anymore. I start physical therapy next week. In the meantime, Dr. Rand tells me that although they are still concerned that I could be a threat to myself I have new privileges. I now get to hang in the common room with all the other crazies on this floor. At least it’s a change of pace from being stuck motoring down the hallway or in my room.
“Hi sugar. How are ya tonight?” Manny asks me. He’s a medtech who brings me my pills every night at nine.
“Good thanks. You?”
“I’m pretty good. Won a pretty little pile of money at poker last night.” Every Wednesday Manny plays poker and every Thursday night I hear about his winnings or losses. He’s a jovial guy who makes me smile. He hands me my little white cup of pills and then my little cup of water. Just like every other night I put the pills in my mouth, we clink our white plastic cups and I swallow.
“Looks like you’re being reduced to a sleeping pill and a multivitamin starting next week. Congrats.” He laughs.
“Gee thanks. But yeah... I’m glad to be off this shit.”
“Hold that chin up buttercup. Every storm runs out of rain.” His words of encouragement makes my soul feel light.
“You’re one of the good ones Manny. You and Rachel.”
“If all my patients were like you this job would be a breeze sugar.” He picks up his tray, waves good night and leaves closing the door behind him.
Physical therapy kicks my ass. It’s intense and grueling. By the end of every session I am beat but the muscle in my leg and arm are starting to look much better. It gives me something to do though so I try not to complain. After each session I sit in the common room, which reminds me of
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
There are the window starrers, the people who mumble to themselves, the droolers, and the ones who rant and rave about anything and everything. There are only two other people sit and people watch like I do.
One is a girl who can't be more than nineteen and looks desperately sad. It makes my heart hurt to look at her. The will to live is gone from her eyes. The other is a man who is probably in his late forties. Sometimes we sit together at a table and silently watch and judge all the other people. We all have yellow bands on our wrists so I know they too are on suicide watch. They color code us. It’s embarrassing to say the least.
“Elle you’ve come pretty far over the last five months.” Dr. Rand says.
“Thanks.” I force a smile. I still don’t trust him.
“I suggested to Ryan that you would be ready for release pending you continue therapy with me.”
“You did?!” I can't hide the excitement in my voice.
“I did yes.” He pauses. “Ryan feels strongly though that during his visits with you, you are still despondent and withdrawn and he’s concerned that maybe you need some more time.” That’s when it hits me. Ryan isn’t going to let me out of here. Not anytime soon. I’ve been locked away on a psych ward for five and a half months and I’m
not
crazy. I’m not suicidal. I was lost before but I’ve had time away from Ryan and it’s helped clear my head. I am going to be ok. I do want to live. I absolutely though do not want to live here in this locked up hell. Regardless of how I feel about Dr. Rand’s motives, he has aided me in working through some of my more overwhelming feelings.
“Oh?” I squeak.
“How do you feel about that?”
“What? His comment or staying longer?” I pose.
“Staying longer.”
“Wait? Why do you automatically side with him? He’s not here talking to me daily. He doesn't know.” Panic is starting to take over my body.
“Well, his concerns are valid. You will be going back to the house where you live with him. If you are as he says around him that’s something we need to address.” He explains calmly as if it’s no big deal. I could spit fire right now. Rage rips through me.
“Add slash a tire to the list doc.” I push up from my bed and stomp to the common room. When I’m sure Dr. Rand has left my room I go back and sob until Manny comes to dose me for the night.
I will go crazy if I’m forced to stay here indefinitely. Will he always be able to come up with a reason that will buy me more time put away? Fear tears through me as I lay in my sterile bed in my sterile white room with a barred window that overlooks a parking lot. The bars on the window are depressing but considering we are only one story up it’s probably to prevent escape attempts.
Jenny please... I’m begging you...How do I get out of here?
I hold my breath and wait until my lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.
I imagine I live in a small cottage on the ocean. I wake up late every morning and enjoy a cup of coffee on my little balcony. When I walk back in I shower and dress and go to work in the small florist shop I own. Flowers bring me joy. I send beautiful arrangements to people, hopefully brightening their day. When I get home at night I sit on that balcony and listen to the waves lap the sand and enjoy a glass of wine. No one yells at me. No one tells me I’m not good enough. No one bothers me. I’m free. I’m happy. I’m content.
I can hear Jenny’s voice singing along to her favorite Dixie Chicks song,
As you wander through this troubled world in search of all things beautiful you can close your eyes when you're miles away and hear my voice like a serenade.
PRESENT
DAY 14
After idly spending the better part of the day in bed Colin and I finally pull ourselves together ready to face another day. I’m happily lounging on his couch as he clicks away on his laptop.
“Hey, listen to this. Falcon rec department has a cooking class today that still has some openings. Learn to prepare the luscious, beautiful desserts you have enjoyed in fine restaurants, or those heartwarming
homemade delights. We teach you to prepare the pastries, fillings and icings. We will teach you not only how to prepare fabulous desserts, but also the pastries for savory hors d'oeuvre and main courses.” He reads from the website.
“Mmmm that sounds like a good one. I never thought about a desserts class.”
“Should we register?”
“What time is it at?” I yawn and stretch trying to motivate myself.
“Four.” He answers. I glance at the clock on the cable box. Two hours from now.
“Sure. Let’s do it.” Colin’s fingers click and clack on the keys as I push myself off the couch and head to the shower. “I’ll need to swing by my place for a change of clothes.” I call over my shoulder.
“K!”
The recreation center is an old beat up looking school. The classroom we’re in reminds me of my old high school science lab. Bland concrete walls painted an off white that looks dirty. There are three other couples in here with us. An older couple who look blissfully happy together sit at one desk holding hands. To our left are two twenty
something’s that appear to be on a first or blind date together. They both sit quietly stealing glances at each other nervously. Across from the older couple are two women who are cackling about the delicious wine they had before coming to the class. Glancing over at Colin I notice he too is people watching, a small grin playing on his face as he listens to the two women laughing up front.
“Interesting mix.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.” He chuckles. “I think those two will make the class.” He nods at the two wine-o’s.
“I don't know, my bet’s on the first date couple next to us.” I whisper back. He glances over just as the guy reaches for his uncapped water bottle and somehow manages to knock it over spilling water all over the table and his dates lap. The instructor walks in just as said date squeals in irritation.
“Ok, maybe you’re right.” He says under his breath.
“Good evening!” The instructor starts. “I’m Chrissy and tonight we’ll be learning to make lemon and berry filled
Danish pastries “As she moves around the room handing out instructions she continues. “
Danishes can be found in so many fun and fanciful shapes. Some are better than others for showcasing a fresh filling, and this particular shape, called the envelope, is perfect for cradling a big scoop of lemon curd and bright red strawberries. In the cabinets below your desks you should find everything you need.” With that we’re off.
Colin brings
the water to a boil in a large saucepan while I whisk the sugar, cornstarch, and lemon zest together, then add the mixture slowly to the hot water, whisking constantly until mixed together. “My arm is burning... you take over.” I complain. Danish making is hard work.
“Wuss.” He teases continuing to whisk until it comes to a boil and becomes very thick. The first date couple argue
s quietly over every little step. The guy throws his hands up in frustration and sits back on his stool letting her take over.
Once we add about half of the hot mixture to the egg yolks, and whisk until it looks creamy we carefully beat the warmed yolks into the pot and continue cooking and whisking until mixture comes to a boil.
“What now?” Colin asks.
“Um, let’s see...add butter, lemon juice, zest and vanilla, and stir.”
“This is kinda fun.”
“I just want to get to the taste testing part.”
“Right, never come between Elle and her pastries.” He winks.
Chrissy walks around the classroom every few minutes praising or correcting the class’s efforts. By the time we’re spooning large dollops into to the pastry envelopes my stomach is growling and my mouth is watering.
“Only fifteen more minutes.” Colin whispers to my belly. I smack him playfully on the head and laugh.
At the end of class everyone gets to test out their Danishes. The older couple’s looks perfect as they cut into it. The first date couple’s looks like it exploded curd and filling everywhere and is burnt. The girl grumbling at the guy as he pulls it out. I think this will be there last date. The two women up front cooked there's a little too long but are happily indulging in it anyways with their fingers. Colin cuts ours in half, picks up a piece and feeds it to me.
“Ohmygodthistastessogood.” I mumble inaudibly around the bite. Colin chortles at me before popping his half into his mouth.
“Thank you all so much for coming! Feel free to bring the recipe home with you and experiment with different fillings!” Chrissy ends the class excitedly. Colin folds the recipe in half and tucks it into his back pocket. As we file out of the classroom Colin’s hand at the small of my back my train of thought moves to the older couple.
“I want to be like them someday.” I express. Colin smiles taking them in. They walk hand in hand down the hallway excitedly talking about making more
Danishes at home.
“We are like them.”
“I meant old and still in love.”
“How do you know they didn't start off just like this?” He stops mid step leans down and kisses me softly before continuing our walk.
“I guess I don't.” I grin and push up on my toes to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
DAY 15
I woke up early and left Colin sleeping in my bed. I took my coffee and a notebook to the deck and sat to think. I want to write a message that means something. If someone gets it someday, if it really washes up somewhere, I want it to inspire them. It’s not as easy as it seems. Writing a simple message should be easy but I keep coming up with
clichés or cheesy messages. Writing something from the heart when you can't find the right words to convey what you want is really irritating.
“Whatcha doin’ babe?” Colin kisses my neck before joining me at the table.
“I’m trying to write a message....but I’m frustrated. I can't think of anything worth writing.”
“How do you know what’s worth writing?”
“If I’m sending it out into the great big ocean and someone could find it someday I want it to be profound. Inspiring. Not lame and cheesy.” I deprecate.
“Well, why don't you just start writing things that come to mind. I’ll do the same. Then we can read all the ideas and pick the two best ones.”
“Are you always so diplomatic?”
“Are you always searching for perfection? Sometimes it doesn't have to be perfect Elle.”
I glower at him in irritation but secretly admit to myself that he has a point.
“Fine.” We sit in silence writing for an hour before I’m ready to show him anything.
We deliberate so much that my head hurts before finally deciding on two messages.
Jenny,
You were the most beautiful person. My wish is that I continue to follow your heart’s desires and your dreams for me. I’m so grateful for the love and support you gave to me, the big sister. I promise to remember to love, and to have fun, and to never forget the feeling I have right now . This is for you. Your wish for love and happiness in my life, a wish for my future to shine as bright as yours did is coming true. I love you and miss you every day.