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Four

I squinted, my eyes trying to adjust to the difference in brightness levels between inside and outside, as the door swung shut slowly behind me. I waved at Sally, a happy hello wave, and padded my way down to the rec room. It was early yet, a lot of people didn’t like to be around and awake yet, but my clock insisted so I took its advice. I knew, like every morning, that I had time before breakfast. Even without being close to my clocks I could still hear them, just in my head. They really helped keep track of things.

The rec room was empty, at first sight. I wandered to the ping pong table and twirled a paddle on my hands, just letting the aloneness settle over me. It was funny, I knew I wasn’t really alone, I was never alone here. Not really, not for real. There was always someone, usually within shouting distance, wandering by. That was part of why I liked it here. It was safe, even if you didn’t want it to be safe, it was. That safety wrapped around us like a blanket. They gave us decent blankets for our rooms here, too.

The emptiness of the room felt both big and small to me as I stood there, putting the paddle back down.

“Schmuck.” The word rang out, large in the suddenly small room. It echoed, more in my head than in the space, and caused me to startle. Dropping the paddle, I spun around and around, and finally spotted the shape of a person on one of the chairs by the TV. I walked closer and I admit I was kinda nervous. That safe feeling had vanished with surprise and I thought of what time it should be, looking for the clock on the wall. Not much time had passed, thankfully. “Come on over here already. I won’t hurt you.” The voice cooed at me with an undertone of dislike. I recognized it then. I moved closer and saw that I was right, it was her. Abigail, or just Gail, but really Abigail.

“Abigail?” I tried, intending to settle it for myself.

“Schmuck,” she repeated, using it as my name. I sighed and sat down near her, gazing lovingly at her: her soft skin, large green eyes, long hair slightly straggly and unkempt, her legs crossed with one foot jangling quickly to a tempo I couldn’t hear.

“John, my name is John. We met, I mean I saw you, you know when you came in?”

“I remember. Want to help me get out of here?”

“You mean you want to go for a smoke? I have a few more, we could go for…”

“I mean out of here, fucker. Vamoose, leave, get of out Dodge.”

“What, why?” I asked.

She sighed at me, shaking her head slowly, a look of utter disappointment creasing her face. “I shouldn’t be in this madhouse. Jesus, fuck. Come on, man.”

I wanted to reassure her that the place wasn’t so bad. They took good care of us here. I wanted to settle her down and strike up a friendship, but I knew it would take just the right words to do it. Something simple but calming. I could tell her about Doctor Vandrell, or how nice Sally could be. The brownies were really good too, when we had any. She needed to see things from the right perspective, like Doctor West told me. It could, she said a lot, make everything come into the right focus. The right focus was very important to Doctor West. I tried to remember the things Doctor West had told me, thinking I could pass them on to Abigail and help her adjust.

“I love you,” came out of my mouth and I blinked as I heard the sound of my own voice. It wasn’t really what I had in mind at all.

“That’s rich. You’re crazy. You? You stay here. I’ll get out. Sounds right.”

I looked at my feet, my hands twisting together. Crazy was a word we weren’t allowed to use. She could get in trouble for it. It was also mean, really. I wasn’t crazy. They told me that. I just needed some help sometimes. I tried to look back up at her but found I couldn’t. She was so perfect but she just didn’t see things right, yet.

“We aren’t allowed to use that word,” I whispered. A whisper wasn’t the tone of voice I had reached for but it was all I had in the face of the word. She laughed, her head going back to expose a perfect throat. I loved that throat then.

“What word? Crazy? Can’t call a spade a digging tool around here? Fine… John, right? John,” she remembered my name and used it, a sign that she was seeing things the way they should be, “listen close, ok? You are crazy. That’s why you’re here. It’s fine, lots of nutters around, and you’re one of them. I, on the other hand, was put here by my evil step sisters. Totally different thing, got it?” Or, then again, maybe not. She got up, shaking her head at me and heading past me, out of the room. I sat there, shocked and confused as she walked away from me. “They’re just jealous, but I’ll get out and get revenge. I just need to find the mice,” she muttered to herself as she left.

I didn’t exist to her, and when I did it wasn’t in a good way. I really wanted to stop her, to explain things to her, but I wasn’t any good at that. I waited until she left and got up myself, looking for Doctor West, hoping she was in already.

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Crazy Little Thing is copyright Adam P. Knave.