JACK (12 page)

“If you love him so much why did you send him away?”

Jonas folded his hands between his knees and stared up at the sky. The pale highlights in his blond hair looked silver in the light. It wasn’t gray, I was sure. He couldn’t have been much older than me.

“Mom had grandpa committed when he set the garage on fire trying to work one of his so-called spells. He wound up burning the house down. He almost killed himself and us. Mom hired nurses and people to watch him while she had to work, but he only got worse. He became combative with the help, calling them ogres, and elves. He’d throw things at them trying to get them to leave the house. Sending him here was for the best.” He sighed. Even though Jonas said the words, I got the feeling he didn’t believe them as much as he wanted to.

“Will he ever get better?”

“I asked Dr. Chance the same thing. He’s tried different medications. Even ETC. He’s okay for a while after the ETC, but the delusions always return.” Jonas brushed a thumb under his eye. “So, now you know. Still mad at me?”

“I wasn’t mad.” Not really.

“You could have fooled me.”

He smiled and I felt warm. “I should go.”

“Already?” He stood up.

“I have a friend I need to check on.”

“I see. Will you come back and visit with me the next time I come and see grandpa?”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

Part of me wanted to tell him no and part of me was excited by the idea. “I’ll think about it.”

“Then I’ll look forward to seeing you again.”

*** *** ***

Grom didn’t make it back to Noah’s room for dinner. Not that I expected him to.

Dinner was broccoli soup. At least I think it was broccoli soup. It was green and yellow, and when I stirred it I found small stumps and green leaves.

“I’m not sure you want to eat this.” I sniffed the bowl. It didn’t smell any worse than the other food here. “It looks like cat vomit.”

I spooned up a bite full and put it in Noah’s mouth. He swallowed.

Feeding him became a rhythm for some internal song. It had no words and no sound, but I could feel it. A deep bass, a strong tenor, and words with no syllables. As much as I hated seeing him like this, at least I could see him. Noah was still here.

“The rabbits are gone.” Some soup dripped down his chin and I wiped it away. The bowl was almost empty now. “I think they went off to make their own families.” I scraped out the last few bites and made sure he didn’t lose any of it. “At least I hope they did and a hawk didn’t eat them.” I put the bowl down by the bed and picked up the carton of milk. “What were their names again? Hippity, Hoppity, Cotton Tail…” I tried to remember the forth one but couldn’t. Noah spit out the straw and I put the milk back down beside the bowl. “Anyhow, I hope they come back when they make babies of their own.”

Something touched my hand and I looked down to see Noah’s fingers curl. He stroked my fingers. I stared because I wanted to make sure it wasn’t on accident. He kept doing it. When I put my hand in his, he squeezed.

I looked at him and his lips moved. Not the way they did when he swallowed but the way they did when he talked. I leaned in close trying to hear what he said.

“Bob.” It wasn’t much more than a breath.

I laughed then I cried. “Bob. You’re right.” His lips moved again. I moved so close his they brushed my ear.

This time Noah said two words. “Bob Tail.”

At my next session there was a new addition to Dr. Chance’s office. A full length mirror.

I stopped by the door. “What’s that for?”

He motioned to the comfy chair. “Please, sit. And we’ll talk about the mirror.” I hesitated and he inclined his head. “It won’t hurt you. I promise.”

I wasn’t afraid of the mirror. It just hadn’t been here before and I didn’t quite trust the possible reasons why it was now. I walked over and sat down. “What’s the mirror for?” I tried not to sound too bossy.

“I’d like to try something new today.”

“What?”

“I’d like to move the mirror closer to you. Would you mind?”

I shrugged. “I don’t care.”

Dr. Chance went to get the mirror. The wheels on the base squeaked against the tile. When he got it close enough he turned it in my direction. It was a pretty mirror with a wood frame and base decorated with intricate carvings around the top and bottom. It looked old. He tipped it forward and my reflection stared back at me.

Dr. Chance sat back down in his chair. “Now, how are you doing today?”

As much as I tried to look at him my gaze was drawn back to the mirror. It wasn’t like I didn’t see myself every morning in the one next to the toilet. But there I only saw my face. Here I saw everything.

My hair had grown out enough now to cover my ears and I needed to tighten my bindings. My knees were boney and so were my elbows.

“Jacqueline?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to talk about the mirror?”

“What about it?”

“How does it make you feel?”

Feel? “I don’t feel anything.”

“You don’t feel anything?”

“No.”

“Nothing at all?”

“No.”

His pen clicked and there were scratching sounds. “Jacqueline, can you tell me what you see in the mirror?”

“A girl.”

“Just a girl?”

“Yes.”

“What does she look like?”

“Brown hair.”

“What else?”

“Gray eyes.”

“Does she have breasts?”

“You can’t see them.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re covered up.”

“What about a vagina?”

“You can’t see that either.”

“Because it’s covered up?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s pretend the girl in the mirror has no clothes on. Would she have the body parts of a woman or would she have a penis and testicles like a man?”

I wondered if this was a trick. I decided to answer anyhow. “The girl in the mirror looks like a girl.”

Dr. Chance seemed pleased by this answer. He wrote for quite some time before giving me his attention again.

I watched the girl in the mirror. She looked bored.

“Now. I want you to tell me if you see yourself in the mirror.”

I thought for a moment. “No.”

Dr. Chance’s eyebrows twitched. “Who do you see, then?”

“Just a girl.”

“Does she have a name?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know.”

“Could it be Jacqueline?”

“I don’t know.”

“She has brown hair and gray eyes just like you. She is your height, your build, freckles on her cheeks and a small scar on her chin, just like you.

“So?”

“Lift your right hand.”

I thought it was a weird request but I did it.

“Now wiggle your fingers.”

I did that too.

“Touch your nose.”

The girl in the mirror looked silly touching her nose. She put her hand down.

“She moves like you, when you do, just like you. You do understand that this is your reflection, right?”

“Yes.”

“So are you sure this girl is not you?”

If there was one thing I was sure of it was that the girl in the mirror wasn’t me. “Yes.”

He wrote something else down. “Why is that?”

“What?”

“Why can’t the girl in the mirror be you?”

Maybe a couple of months ago his question would have given me pause, but now more than ever I was sure of who I was. I was not that girl. I might have looked like her but I was not her. “She’s a shell.”

He tapped his pen against his chin and then wrote something else down. “A shell?”

“Yeah. Just like what you find on the beach.”

“Why is she just a shell?”

“Because she’s only a reflection, she isn’t real.”

“Jacqueline, do you miss your mother?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think perhaps the reason why you want to be a boy is because the girl, the girl who looks like you, moves when you do, and is a reflection, your reflection, is the one who lost her?”

“No.” I quit staring at my reflection for a moment. Dr. Chance looked surprised.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you can’t quit being someone you never were to begin with.”

*** *** ***

Noah and me sat on his bed, the checker board between us. I moved a piece. He took two pieces and added them to the pile near his knee. He still moved slowly but at least he moved.

“I think you cheat.”

He smiled.

“You have to. How can you beat me every time?”

He shrugged.

“I think you have this rigged somehow.” I pretended to look under the bed by dropping my head over the side. When I came back up, Noah gave me a silent laugh.

Seeing him happy, the life back in his eyes, did something to the inside of me. More than anything I wanted to keep him like this forever.

He curled a finger at me. I sat up and leaned in until I could hear his whisper. “Outside.”

“You want to go into the garden?”

He nodded and I went to find a wheelchair. He rapped on the checkerboard to get my attention.

“What?”

He curled his finger at me again. “Walk.”

“It’s a long way.”

Noah shrugged.

“You sure?”

He nodded.

I hooked my arm around his ribs and he put his over my shoulder. He had no problems making it to the bathroom now, but his balance was still bad. The nurse assured me when the last of the medicine were cut off he’d be right as rain.

Or in Noah’s case, right as sunshine.

It was a record low day for late July. Combined with a breeze the blazing sun was more than bearable. I took Noah to a tree and we sat down. I could tell the walk had been more than he was ready for by the way he breathed, but Noah didn’t complain. He never complained.

We sat shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. The grass carpet rolled out in front of us, all the way to the brick wall. The grass had been cut recently and the heat had turned it brown.

Noah took my hand and our fingers wove together. I didn’t have to look at him to know he was thinking. I could feel it. A live wire through the air between us. He wanted to tell me something, needed to tell me something, only he couldn’t find the words yet. I wasn’t sure if he ever would.

I said, “Dr. Chance made me look in a mirror the other day.”

Noah squeezed my hand.

“He wanted to know what I saw. I told him it was a girl, but the girl wasn’t me. He tried to convince me it was.”

Noah squeezed my hand twice.

“She wasn’t me. I don’t care if the mirror shows me a girl. That’s not who I am and I don’t understand why that bothers everyone. Why can’t I be a boy? Even if I don’t look like a boy. Why can’t I
be
a boy? There are people out there who aren’t what they look like. Nice people who look bad and bad people who look nice.”

Noah gave my hand one long squeeze this time.

“I know who I am. I know. I feel it. But Dr. Chance is right. When I look in the mirror my reflection is a girl.”

Noah put a hand on my cheek and made me look at him.

“What am I, Noah?”

His forehead touched mine and his fingers pushed through my hair over and over.

“I’m not a girl but I’m not a boy. What am I? Who am I?” I saw nothing but kindness in Noah’s eyes. Nothing but understanding. Nothing but acceptance.

And I wondered why couldn’t the rest of the world look at me that way?

*** *** ***

Noah and I was peering over the back of the couch staring at Grom with Jonas. It was like a rerun on TV where you already know the ending but can’t seem to quit watching. When Grom left, Noah climbed down. He walked better now and didn’t need me to hold him up. They’d taken him off the last of the bad medicine and resumed his regular ones. They made him tired, but at least he was normal again.

Whispering and drawing, and of course kicking my ass at checkers.

“Jack?” Jonas headed across the room in our direction.
I stopped and Noah tugged on my hand.

“How are you?” He smiled.

Noah squeezed my hand.

“I’m fine.”

“Good.” He glanced at the door leading out to the garden.

“I was wondering if you’d like to take a walk?”

I looked at Noah. He stared at the floor. “Do you want to take a walk with Jonas?”

Noah shook his head.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

To Jonas, I said, “No, thank you.”

Jonas’s mouth made a thin line and he waved a hand in the direction of the garden. “Please, walk with me.”

I wanted to too. I wanted to walk with Jonas and talk to him. I think Noah knew this because he let my hand go and took a step away.

“Noah?”

He hurried to the dayroom without looking back. I started after him but Jonas caught my arm.

“Please take a walk with me.”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“Please. I want you to tell me about Grandpa. He doesn’t tell me how he is and I worry.”

I stared through the doors but Noah had already gone down the hall to his room. Jonas looked so hopeful when I turned around. I sighed. “Just for a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

I didn’t think keeping it only a few minutes was going to be much of a problem. Summer had returned with a thick torrid heat and the kind of humidity that took the air right out of your lungs.

Jonas took a handkerchief out of the inside of his jacket and mopped his brow. I was only wearing cotton scrubs and was burning up. I could only imagine how bad he suffered.

Jonas loosened his tie and took off his jacket. He laid it over the back of the bench before sitting down. The shade hadn’t cooled the iron much from where it had been in the sun all morning and the heat went right through my scrubs threatening to cook the meat off my butt.

“Tell me about Grandpa.”

I dug my bare toes into the prickly grass. “What do you want to know?”

“Is he happy?”

“I guess.”

“Does he smile and laugh and tell you crazy stories?”

I grinned even though I didn’t mean to. “Yeah, lots of stories.”

Jonas relaxed. “Good. I’m glad. When I see him all he wants to talk about is Sarah. I miss him so much. The old him. The one who laughed and teased me and threatened to turn me into a toad. Not the man who’s angry all the time.”