Page 55
Story: The Girl in the Castle
Jordan covers it with his hand. Dr. Nicholas is right: the barisdisgusting. But it’s cheap, and student loans are no joke. “Thanks for trusting me,” Jordan says.
“I don’t know that I do,” Dr. Nicholas says. “But I have run out of other options.”
CHAPTER 54
Michaela and I were in the lounge working on a puzzle, since neither of us wanted to do art therapy with the Bob Ross knockoff who came on Mondays. We’d covered half the table’s surface with tiny colorful pieces—one thousand of them, to be exact—and so far we had most of the border and a little kitten with half a face.
“I need to find its other eyeball,” Michaela said, pushing pieces around. “Have you seen a cute little green eyeball?”
We were actively not talking about Sophie, or about the new kid who’d been admitted and had gone running up and down the hall last night, screaming. His name, Nurse Amy told us, was Caleb, and he would probably be staying with us for a while.
I picked up a border piece and fitted it next to its neighbor. We were doing the puzzle on the Ping-Pong table because it was big, and because no one knew where the paddles or balls had gone.
“I think there’s a tiny chance they’ll let meoutsideoutside,” I said.
Michaela didn’t respond, and I wasn’t sure if she’d heard me. Then she picked up a puzzle piece, looked down at the fragmented picture we’d started to assemble, and then threw the piece across the room. It hit the corner of Sean’s chair, and he looked up at us with a snarl.
“It’s not fair,” Michaela said. “They took that pimply kid to the electric chair this morning, andyouget treated like a princess.”
“His name is Peter, and he’s severely depressed,” I said. “That’s not actually my particular problem. And, as you know perfectly well, it’s called electroconvulsive therapy.”
ECT meant that you were given muscle relaxants, put under general anesthesia, and then basically your brain was electrocuted. But the thing was, it helped. By some mysterious process it changed people’s brain chemistry. I knew two people from Belman who said in group that it had saved their lives. Where were they now? I didn’t know. But they weren’t inhere.
“Whatever,” Michaela huffed. She called over her shoulder, “Indy! Come help Hannah. I don’t want to anymore.”
I knew Indy wouldn’t answer. He was halfway down the hall at one of the nurses’ stations, pestering them about one thing or another. Anyway, he hated puzzles. He said they were nothing but mutilated pictures.
“Michaela,” I said, “please stay.” But she went and flopped down in a chair by the window and closed her eyes.
I’d managed to put together a good portion of another kitten when Jordan came into the lounge. I didn’t look up when he said my name. I’d found another piece of my kitten, and when I put it in place, its face went from messed up to sweet, just like that.
It suddenly occurred to me that encouraging psychiatric patients to complete puzzles was an embarrassingly obvious metaphor. It was like,Let’s put the broken things back together! With patience, we can make anything whole!
“That’s a really good point,” Jordan said.
I lifted my head. “Did I say that out loud?”
“No,” he said. “I just took a wild guess.” A smile flickered at the corner of his mouth—he was obviously joking.
“I guess you’d better add ‘talking to self’ on my list of oddities,” I said.
“Definitely,” he said. But it seemed like he was kidding again.
He pulled an edge piece from over by the Ping-Pong net and snapped it into place. Then he looked at the picture on the top of the puzzle box and frowned. “What genius said to himself, ‘Gee, I think a drawing of a bunch of kittens on a yacht would make a great puzzle?’”
I picked up a piece and tried it in a spot it didn’t fit. “All I know is that I asked for a Brueghel reproduction, but no one listened.”
Jordan’s smile grew wider. “Brueghel, huh? I’ll bring that up in the staff meeting. I mean, they could atleastget you a Monet.”
“Exactly. His colors are very soothing.”
“Hey, I have good news,” Jordan said. “You’re getting out of here for the afternoon.”
I couldn’t quite believe my ploy had worked. Michaela glared at me from her chair.
“East of Edenis playing at an art house downtown.”
“There’s amovie?” I said.
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