A Night at the Asylum (7 page)

Then, as always, she pulled herself together,
her mouth set in resolve. “We’re going to the asylum,” she
said.

“What?!” I exclaimed.
No. Bad idea. Very
bad idea.

“What, you want to go home after this?!” The
way she screamed made me afraid that the police car was lingering
far behind us, watching us, waiting. Tailing us the way we’d tailed
the Mustang. I glanced nervously out the back window. “I told
Raymond we’d meet him there,” she said, and I opened my mouth to
protest but she cut me off. “He has to know about this! If he
is…with…Bonita, he needs to know. I’m sorry, Sara, I know that’s
awful. I’m sorry. I probably should have told him over the phone,
but…no, we need to go there anyway. Where else are we going to
go?”

“To my house. With my parents. Please.” I had
the irrational belief that if I just climbed into bed with my
mother and father like a ten year-old girl, all this would go away.
“Jamie. Whoever was in that cop car is nuts and they’re still out
there. And frankly, I have exceeded my quota of nutcases for one
night.”

“And what if he finds out where you live
somehow? If he’s still out there he’ll find us.”

“Yes, which is why I’d much rather not be on
the road right now, if you don’t mind. Besides, what cop in this
one-horse town wouldn’t recognize your car while they were smashing
into it? Whoever it is, he already knows where I live.”

“Which is exactly why we’re not going
there.”

Dammit.

This was why I hated her.

I collapsed against the seat, defeated.

“Did you seriously just say ‘one-horse
town’?” Jamie giggled.

“Shut up!”

Twelve miles away, on the other side of the
county, the Heaven’s Gate Asylum waited for us at the end of a
long, dark highway. It was like a horror movie cliché, like a
reality series flophouse, having served eight towns in its heyday
as a receptacle for all of society’s local rejects. Its hulking
exterior loomed over the expansive grounds like a sleeping giant,
gray and sagging in the dark. The Kirkbride architecture, once
beautiful and sweepingly alive, was now peeling with decay, the
brick-swallowing ivy the only living creature left.

There were no houses near the asylum, few
lights on the narrow road leading to it. Tommy and I had spent
countless weekends scouting the three crumbling floors. In spite of
passing patrol cars and sporadic security, it was the ultimate
teenage hangout. It was amazing that no one had ever hurt
themselves here. Which wasn’t exactly true – but all suicides
aside, it was a relatively safe place to drink, explore, hang out
with your friends, or whatever else you might be brave enough to do
there. I’d even once gone through it and taken pictures for a
school assignment, after Tommy had filled his own camera full of
amazing photos. As a teenager, I couldn’t stop taking pictures. And
the asylum, with its twisted, decaying beauty, was the ideal
location.

Of course there were stories about this
place. Its history was full of blemishes. Much like any hospital
that was eventually abandoned, rumors circulated about the torture
of patients, the lobotomies, the experiments on the physically
incompetent and the mentally ill. There were awful medications and
unconscionable therapies. There were tales of abuse and neglect.
Inside, an eerie sense of the place having been left in the middle
of normal daily life – wheelchairs in the halls, lockers full of
junk, papers still on desks and littering the dirty floors –
penetrated every hallway and crevice. After the initial forsaking
by society…well, that’s when we found it, the generation of weirdly
belated hipsters, who never suspected our ideas were just rehashed
nonsense. We at least recognized the artistic inadequacy of the
barren walls and for that we all had to be proud. The life-size Led
Zeppelin Swan Song Angel spray-painted in the front lobby was a
testament to that.

It was unfathomable that such a grand
structure could be left alone to rot and be desecrated. From far
off it looked like a woeful haunted castle. In the rooms with the
arched windows and even the ceilings with holes that moonlight
poured through, the smell of dirt and mildew and rotting wood
permeating everything, it was easy to believe you were in a whole
other world. In the belly of a monster, where you could sense death
was close enough to touch, perhaps even standing behind you
breathing down your neck.

****

Jamie guided the little blue car into the
parking lot of the church across the street from the asylum’s
grounds. There were other people here. A lot of people. We both
sighed with relief. We pulled into a space and Jamie shoved the
gearshift into park.

“I never want to be that scared again,” she
commented.

A loud rap on the window caused both of us to
cry out.

“You girls getting out?” There was a guy
standing at the driver’s side door, staring in at us.

I looked down at the digital clock on the
radio. It read 3:59. Jamie turned the ignition off and the glowing
numbers on the clock disappeared. But I swear I could still see a
dimmer version of them lingering there, like a ghost that faded
slowly away.

****

Four O’Clock

I climbed out of the car, my face cracking
into a smile. “Hey, Cole,” I said, gasping as he grabbed me up in
an enthusiastic hug.

“It’s great to see you, Sara,” he said
earnestly when he finally let go. “It’s been a while.”

“Thanks.”
For more than the hug,
I
might have added. I smoothed my clothing, feeling pleasantly
violated.

Cole grinned, his smile wide and infectious.
Tall and boyish, with glistening eyes and dark hair, he’s
exceptionally cute if you’re into the warm-hearted but
overly-pierced type. He and Raymond have known each other since
preschool.

“Is that new?” I asked him, eyeing his lip
ring. “Every time I see you, you have more holes in your face.”

“Nothing else to do in this goddamn town,” he
shot back good-naturedly.

Next to us, Jamie cleared her throat loudly.
Apparently she felt the need to remind us of her existence.

“Oh.” I nodded. “Jamie, this is Cole Allison.
Cole, Jamie Pfeffer.”

“Hi,” they greeted each other in unison, and
suddenly, it was as if I wasn’t even there. He was looking at her,
she was ogling him…I could have spontaneously combusted with
neither of them noticing. Both realized the other was staring and
laughed uncertainly at the same time. I rolled my eyes.

It was my turn to clear my throat.

“So, did you come out to see some
architectural carnage?” I asked Cole, turning to gaze behind us
where the asylum languished on the other side of the hill.

“Of course! There’s no way I’d miss this
place getting smoked.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Ah, so you're not on Raymond's side
tonight?”

“No way. I want to see it die.”

“Where is Raymond, by the way?” Not that I
really wanted to know. I had no idea what my runaway mouth would
say to him, or if I’d just stand there like an idiot and say
nothing at all.

“I actually just got a weird text from him.”
Cole took out his phone, pushing buttons. “Hang on...” he read the
message word for word. “‘Something came up but I’ll be there
ASAP.’” He shrugged.

“When did you get that? We just talked to
him.”

“I got it
literally
as you two pulled
up.”

“Great.”

A look of sympathy crossed Cole’s face.
“Didn’t you guys…?”

“Yeah.” My cheeks burned. “We broke up.”

“I’m sorry.” He touched my arm. “He seems
pretty torn up about it. He must have done something really bad,
right…?” Cole raised one eyebrow, politely inviting me to spill the
story behind it all.

“Um,
he
broke up with
me
,” I
gasped, surprised. “I’d like to know what happened myself. Any
ideas?”

“No,” Cole seemed confused and slightly
embarrassed to have dredged the whole thing up. “But then, before
about a week ago, it’d been a while since I’d talked to him. He
told me you guys weren't together anymore, but that's about
it.”

My own confusion deepened. I knew my silence
with Raymond had to end, but wasn’t sure when I would be ready to
hear the truth, now that he seemed willing to tell it. Either way,
it was too stressful to think about right this minute. “Well,” I
looked at Jamie, her eyes still glued to Cole. “What do we do
now?”

“What do you mean? You guys can hang with me
till he gets here,” Cole responded with enthusiasm, speaking mostly
to Jamie, I thought. He made a sweeping gesture toward the dark
hill, where there were now a few groups of teenagers happily
loitering. We could hear voices, laughter. “You ready to go
in?”

Jamie’s eyes were pleading. “Five minutes.
Just till Raymond gets here. I’ve never seen the inside.”

I groaned. “Five minutes.”

As we soldiered across the overgrown
courtyard on our way to the massive building, Jamie and I fell
behind a few steps. “We should tell him about Bonita. About the
police car,” she whispered, tucking her long scarf into her
coat.

“Maybe.” I folded my arms over my chest,
realizing I’d left my own jacket in the car. Thank God I still had
my cigarettes. “Do you have a lighter?” I asked, but she only
stared at me, puzzled.

“What’s with you?” She narrowed her eyes at
me inquisitively. Once again she had tapped into the turbulent
inner-workings of my brain.

“Do you think Raymond…” I shifted my weight
nervously from one leg to the other. “Do you think him not being
here has anything to do with all that?”

Jamie sighed. “I don’t know, but we’ll find
out soon enough. Please, just promise me you’ll talk all this out
with him…not just about what happened tonight, but everything. Get
it out in the open already. Out of the closet. You’re killing
yourself.” She smirked. “And the suspense is killing
me
.”

“I will.”

“And while you’re at it get me a date with
Hotty McPiercings over here,” she giggled wistfully, nudging me
with her shoulder.

“He’s as good as yours.”

Cole stopped just ahead of us as his phone
rang. We were almost to the top of the hill, the dewy grass
staining the legs of our pants, soaking cold through our shoes. To
our left was a grove of gangly, leafless trees; a few more steps
and we’d be overlooking the tall, foreboding building and its
deteriorating grounds.

Cole’s face brought us up short. “It’s
Raymond,” he mouthed, pointing at the phone. As he talked, we
listened to his conversation with growing horror. “You’re at the
hospital? What happened?”

Jamie and I exchanged troubled glances.

“Is he okay?” Cole grimaced. “Dude, you’re
cutting out. I can’t hear you.”

My heartbeat was an exercise in acrobatics as
I listened. Jamie’s fingers closed apprehensively around my
wrist.

Finally Cole hung up. “It’s Jon,” he
explained, shaking his head. His dark blue eyes were full of
concern. “He got hurt somehow. Raymond’s at the hospital with him.
I don’t know what happened. I couldn’t hear him and we got cut
off.” He shrugged and shoved his phone back into the pocket of his
khakis.

“What?” I stammered. Raymond’s
brother
, Jon, was in the hospital? My bewilderment was at an
all-time high now. The lack of sleep, overabundance of stress, and
post-caffeine crash were all hindering my ability to process yet
another unexpected turn of events. Despite my nagging worry about
Jon now, however, I was relieved that Raymond seemed to be
fine.

We all stood staring at each other awkwardly
for a moment. Looking down the hill, I could see the decrepit old
building sulking in the dark, waiting. It was a strange, random
realization, but I suddenly knew I couldn’t go any further.
Something inside was holding its breath, anticipating the second I
would step through those doors. A sense of fear washed over me so
forcefully that it pushed me backward. I was certain that if my
eyes stayed glued to those jagged spires, those gaping black
windows, I would catch a glimpse of some gnarled shape reaching a
claw-like hand toward me…

“Ow!” Jamie cried as I backed into her,
tramping right on her ankle.

“I can’t go in there.”

“What the – what did you say?” She raised an
eyebrow at me. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Just…tired.” I cleared my throat
loudly. “Gotta be at the restaurant pretty soon, you know. We
should go.” She opened her mouth to protest but I took her
shoulders and shoved her away from the building. “Now.”

“Wait...I’m gonna go up to the hospital to
see what’s going on, anyway,” Cole said as he half-jogged after us.
“It didn’t sound too serious, but maybe Raymond could use some
help.”

“Great,” Jamie pounced, shooting me a look of
defiance. Asylum or no asylum…she didn’t care as long as she was
following Cole around. That was sort of a relief. At least it kept
me out of that building for now. “We can all go together. I’ll
drive.”

“No!” I shouted much louder than was
necessary. “Not a good idea to take your car still. And…I want to
go home.”

Cole smiled a curious half-smile, his eyes
going back and forth between us. “Why isn’t it a good idea to take
your car?” he asked Jamie.

“Come on,” she answered energetically,
grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the parking lot. “We’ll
take
your
car. We’ll fill you in on the way.”

“Okay,” Cole answered agreeably. “I get it.
You’re a take-charge kind of girl.”

“That’s right, baby.”

“Works for me.”

They left me standing in the field, my mouth
hanging open, lost in my own reverie.

****

Five minutes later as Cole drove toward my
house with Jamie hugging her knees in the passenger seat, the past
three hours’ events spilled out of us and we started to piece
together a very crude, very perplexing puzzle. Ead Sutter became
the inevitable core of our discussion for various reasons, but as
was always the case with anything Ead was involved in, there could
only be suspicion and conjecture.