Page 28 of Actions and Reactions (All It Takes #5)

Silas

I spend the next hour just staring at the first blank page of the notebook, but when nothing comes to mind and twelve o’clock rolls around, I snap it closed and take it with me to the cafeteria—maybe I’ll think of something while I eat.

I see everyone from last night. The other six patients are there, and most of them talk to each other but no one talks to me, and I have no way of knowing if that’s normal or if they’re avoiding me specifically for some reason.

I sit with my back to everyone again, but eat slowly this time, and actually enjoy the salad and salmon steak more than I thought I would.

While I do, I look down at my watch and see it’s quarter to one, so I have roughly three hours before group therapy and no idea what I’m going to do with all that time .

Sure, right before I can finally send all the messages I can squeeze into fifteen minutes, but what about before...

What is group therapy even going to be like?

I know I don’t belong here, so maybe I can just find more proof by hearing what the other patients have to say?

I really don’t want to, though. It sounds fucking exhausting, and I can’t imaging depleting my empathy reserves will do me much good.

I’m obviously never going to do the wall-punching thing again, I need to find a better balance and get rid of this anger that comes out whenever I think about hockey, but otherwise I’m good.

A yawn overtakes me when I’m putting my tray back, and so without even thinking about it, I go to my room and lie down.

When I wake up and I remember where I am, I spring up, scared I missed my window to get my phone, but I see it’s almost three, so I lie back down and breathe deeply to slow down my heart rate.

Once I can breathe easier, I put my shoes on again and grab my new notebook, the pencil, and the paper where I wrote down everything I need to text, and go to the nurses station to wait there.

I think over what Dave said, and try to start a mental list of what I want from my life after I leave this place, but still nothing different to what I had in Las Vegas comes to mind.

I guess I thought of three things for the list earlier, though, didn’t I ?

So I jot those down while I wait, leaning against the hallway wall.

Find a better balance with work.

Stop punching walls.

Get rid of the anger.

That’s really all I can think of, and before I can even consider becoming frustrated with Dave again, nurse Li pops his head up and smiles at me.

“Want your phone, Silas?”

“Yes, please.”

He nods, still smiling, and then ducks behind his desk. I hear a few metallic clanks before he pops up again.

“Here you go.”

I breathe an unsteady and ridiculous sigh of relief when I feel the cold device against my hand, and I turn it on right away.

Instead of wasting time going to my bedroom, I sit at one of the tables and get to sending message after message.

I tell Gab I can only answer texts at this time of day and that I can’t make any calls, then move on to texting Lottie everything I want, and I tell her to please tell Mom and Dad about the timing as well.

Then I get to Vinny, and see I only have eight minutes left, so I breathe in deeply and focus.

Silas:

Hey Vinny. This is the only time of day when I can use my phone.

Only texting, no phone calls, but I wanted to let you know.

I only have fifteen minutes, but I was hoping maybe we could chat someday?

I miss you.

I didn’t plan on saying that, but I do... I miss him so damn much, and I wish he was here with me so I didn’t feel so fucking alone and so he could tell me how everything is going to be okay.

I leave it at that, though, then go to check my emails.

Sandy wrote back telling me to not worry, that she’s using all the systems I’ve developed over the past few months and that she has everyone at the Pirates helping where she needs it.

She also says they’re all wishing me well and a speedy recovery, which makes me wonder what everyone at the Pirates thinks happened to me, but I don’t have the time to wonder about that right now.

My phone buzzes and I see Lottie wrote back with a simple thumbs up, which I appreciate this time—I hate it every other time—and I think she wrote something more but it buzzes again and I see Vinny’s replied.

Vinny:

I’m glad you can have your phone, even if it’s only for fifteen minutes.

Hope you’re getting better, Si.

We’ll be back from the roadie on Wednesday, can we chat then? I’ll be waiting at this time in any case.

I’m holding my breath while I read, and though I know the clock’s running out, I can’t bring myself to write anything back. It’s so apparent and obvious this time, the delight at hearing from him so soon, and then the sharp turn of my emotions when he mentions a roadie.

The only reason I don’t spiral out of control is because my phone buzzes yet again.

I miss you too.

My breath comes out unsteady, and I feel like crying, can actually feel my eyes watering up.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I wonder, and this time the voice in my head isn’t sarcastic or angry, it’s scared.

Silas:

You can message me any time and I’ll answer when I can.

I feel like I should say something... more , but I can’t think of anything, so I shut down my phone on autopilot and give it back to nurse Li, even try to muster up a smile for him, but I clearly fail.

When I turn around I see the older woman with her phone, wiping away a tear, the tough looking guy focusing intently on something he’s reading, and the lady who knows who I am, one of the hockey fans.

I don’t know if it helps me or not, to see people who’ve obviously been here longer than me as interested in their phones as I was. Of course, not as desperate, but still...

I walk to the other side of the room and make my way to the common area where we’ll have our therapy session in who knows how many minutes—I don’t really care.

I see there are seven chairs already placed in a circle in the middle of the room, which means someone prepared the room for us, and I make my way there and sit facing the windows.

I’m aware over the next few minutes of people coming in and sitting around me, but it’s not until Dr. Jody’s face appears in my direct line of sight that I’m truly consciously here.

“Are you all right?” she asks softly, her hand going to my shoulder.

“Ye-yeah.” I swallow hard once I clear my throat. “Sorry,” I mutter. “Did you say something before?”

“I just greeted you.” She smiles, and I suspect she did say something else, maybe other people did too. And that’s when the embarrassment hits and I lower my eyes to my shoes.

“We did say hello,” I hear a woman’s voice from next to me, and since it sounds old and has an accent I can’t place, my guess is that it’s the older woman.

“Hi,” I whisper, and I hate how meek I sound. I see Dr. Jody walk to my left out of the corner of my eye and take a seat.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” she says, her tone friendly. Everyone greets her. “As you’ve all probably seen since last night we have a new member, and we’ll give him the same introduction you all received.”

There’s a marked moment of silence and then someone clears their throat.

“Are we supposed to start now?” A deep voice comes from my right.

“Silas?” Dr. Jody asks. “This is an important step for everyone to go through, so please look up at your companions.” She sounds so damn careful and caring, I can’t not do what she asks, so I look up and around.

The five people I’ve seen around here for the past day are all looking at me with varying degrees of welcome.

“I’m Louis.” The same voice from before belongs to the guy I guessed is in his thirties, the tough looking one. I nod at him.

“Nice to meet you,” I manage to whisper.

“You too, kid. I’m a construction worker. We were building a new skyscraper in the city and I lost my best friend when some scaffolding failed.”

My mouth goes dry at his story, at the pain I see in his eyes, and at the strength that’s right there with it.

Is this some kind of sadistic ritual?

Am I seriously supposed to know what the hell to say back?

“I’m Helen.” A woman’s voice this time, right in front of me.

She’s one of the ones I suspect is a hockey fan, and her nervous smile confirms it.

“I recognized you right away yesterday. Even though they told us you were coming, I still couldn’t believe it.

” She takes a deep breath and looks away for a second while she rubs her hands as if they’re too cold.

“My dad loved hockey all his life, and I was his sole caretaker for the last couple of years before he—” She stops herself to swallow hard, and I don’t think I’ve ever admired anyone more than her when she looks right at me again. “He took his own life last year.”

Yeah, it might be a whisper, but I doubt I’d be doing any better if I were in her shoes.

“I’m sorry.” I’m glad I get the words out because I really am. I must be an awful reminder for her, but she offers me a smile.

“I’m Consuelo,” the older woman next to me says, and this time it’s easier to meet her eyes.

“I have no idea what Helen’s talking about by recognizing you, but you seem like a nice young man.

I was born and raised in Ecuador, and moved here with my husband thirty-five years ago for his work.

Our son was murdered in front of me three months ago, and my neighbors brought me to this place to get better. ”

God, that’s fucking brutal.

“I’m sorry, Consuelo.”

I feel beyond uncomfortable, but my gut tells me to do it, so I reach over and touch her arm for a second, and she too smiles at me.

“I’m Colin.” It’s the other hockey fan, the one who’s lost his legs, and I force my eyes to stay on his face. “And we recognized him ’cause his Dad’s a legend, Connie, a great hockey player.”

“Ah,” is all Consuelo says, but nods slowly as if that’s all she needs to know.

I shove all thoughts of hockey away from my mind and look at Colin again.