Arizona Allspice (10 page)

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Authors: Renee Lewin

BOOK: Arizona Allspice
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Finding no rope, Swiss army knife, or sleeping pills in my bag, security let me pass. I walked along a hall that had a row of doors on the right that led to various medical and therapy rooms, and a few psychiatrist offices. The right side of the hall was made of glass panes that permitted me to pause a moment and look into the dining hall, library, fitness and recreation halls. Even though all the patients wore blue gowns or blue scrubs that blended them together like a herd of sheep, I spotted Dad right away, sitting at a table in the back playing checkers. I continued down the hall anxious to finally save my Dad from this cold, sterile place. The door up ahead and on the right would get me into the rec room. My pace quickened towards it.

 

“Excuse me,” a voice called.

 

“What?!”
I whipped around, aggravated.

 

“Before you speak with your family member you need to have a word with me,” said the psychiatrist while giving me a quick once over.

 

I sighed and followed him into his office, self-conscious of how on-edge I felt. “Sorry about snapping at you earlier. I’ve been really stressed out,” I apologized as I lowered myself into the chair in front of the desk in his office.

 

Dr.
Agneau
closed the door behind him and sat behind his desk. “I understand completely. No need to apologize,” he said, oozing sincerity and gazing into my eyes. “You feel like you’ve lost control of the welfare of your loved one. I can personally say I will do whatever I can to make this situation as easy as possible for both you and your family member.”

 

His hazel eyes glowed in contrast to his dark skin. His eyes, his faint Franco-Caribbean accent, and solid physique added to his air of exoticism. “Thank you,” I said.

 

“First I need some information from you. What’s the name of your family member?”

 

“Edward Roberts.”

 

 He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a folder with the tab that read
Roberts, E
. He pulled a pen from his lab coat front pocket and scanning the paperwork he rattled off questions and scribbled my answers.
“Your name please?”

 

“Elaine Roberts.”

 

“Relationship to the patient?”

 

“Daughter.”

 

He looked up from the clipboard. “How old are you?” he gave a small smile.

 

“I’m twenty,” I answered the question that was probably not listed in the paperwork.

 

His eyes glistened. “People say I look a bit older but I’m actually only 27,” he shared.

 

“Oh,” I said ambiguously, not acknowledging his flirtatiousness.

 

He glanced back down at his papers. “Have you witnessed any violent episodes from your father before the incident with the police on May 2nd?”

 

“No, never.”

 

Dr.
Agneau
thumbed through several papers, a furrow between his brows. “Are you sure?
Because I have documents suggesting otherwise.”

 

My left hand massaged my throbbing left temple. How could he possibly know about the little incidents that occurred at home? “What documents?” I asked.

 

“We spoke to Emanuel Roberts, he called to check on his father, and he told us that your dad has exhibited violent behavior prior to the most recent episode.”

 

“You know what, how about you believe who you want to believe? Believe me or believe my brother Emanuel who’s sitting in jail right now for his own violent behavior,” I stared Dr.
Agneau
down.

 

He contemplated my statement while tapping the pen on the edge of his desk. He laid the pen off to the side, grasped a page out of the folder and balled it up between his large brown hands. “I guess I’ll take your word for it then.” He tossed the crumpled paper ball into the waste basket and grinned. Technically I had not broken my private promise not to lie anymore. Dr.
Agneau
had been the one to lie, falsifying records by throwing away the information Manny offered, I rationalized.

 

He directed me out of his office and down the hall, with one hand gently at the middle of my back guiding me forward and the other hand holding open doors. It reminded me of things Raul used to do for me. I reminded myself again to call Raul soon. The doctor led me into the recreation room and asked a passing male nurse to pull my dad from his checkers game.

 

“Greg will take you and your father into the sitting room where you two can talk.”

 

“Thank you, Dr.
Agneau
.”

 

“Please, call me Darrell,” he smiled.

 

“Thank you, Darrell,” I smiled weakly.

 

“Alright.”
He removed his hand from my back and walked out the double doors into the hall. Dr.
Agneau
had been obviously flirting with me and I half played the part of someone interested. What he didn’t know was that I didn’t want to have a relationship with him or any another man until the day came when I’d forgotten just how bad one could hurt me.

 

I watched the nurse talking to my father and witnessed the cheerful expression slip off of Dad’s face as he looked across the room and saw me, his daughter, standing there. My heart fell. When he finally walked up to me wearing the customary blue shirt and sweatpants uniform he gave me a small smile and made no attempts to hug me. He didn’t even say hello. I could only give him an awkward wave. We were escorted to a room filled with loveseats, and coffee tables decorated with fake ivy plants that needed the attention of a feather duster.

 

“So,” I started, blinking back tears, “I heard that Emanuel called you. How is he? He won’t talk to me so I have no idea.”

 

His knee was bouncing up and down nervously as he sat beside me on the sofa. “He’s fine, Elaine. He’s going to come out the other side in one piece.
Just like you will.”

 

I peered up at him. There was conflict behind his indifferent façade.

 

“Dad, let’s just go home now. I don’t want you to spend another minute in here.”

 

“Laney, I’m not going home today.”

 

“You have every right to leave today, right now. You’re not under arrest. You technically never were.”

 

“I’m going to stay here for as long as I feel I should. Do you understand? I’m not going to come home and have you take care of me. I want to be here.”

 

I worked so hard, day after day, to take care of him, to make sure he never had to be in a place like this, apart from the people who truly loved him, and my sacrifices had not been appreciated. I know that sometimes I just needed a break from it all, but I never wanted him to leave. It was then that I cried openly. I sobbed as he reached out to hold me. I moved away, escaping his embrace.

 

“I’m your father and I’m supposed to take care of you, not the other way around,” he said softly. “I like it here. The doctors are nice, the food is alright, and the other residents are going through what I’m going through. I don’t feel like a burden here. Elaine?”

 

I stood up from the couch intent on heading out the door. I couldn’t stand to hear
anymore
nonsense. I took two steps before he caught up and took me by the arm. He turned me around to face him. I was stung by the remorse in his eyes. Dad hugged me firmly. “Please, don’t leave me while you’re angry. I won’t do well here if I know you’re angry with me.”

 

“I’m not, I’m not,” I murmured a partial truth. I was angry but the feeling was waning as I remembered I didn’t want to repeat that ignorant anger I felt towards my mother before she passed away. I forced myself to realize Palo Verde wasn’t such a horrible hospital and that my Dad wouldn’t be gone forever.

 

“Do what you need to do to be happy. Forget about me for a while if you have to,” he said.

 

“Impossible,” I said.

 

“What? Being happy?”

 

“No.  Not worrying about you.”

 

He hugged me tighter.
“Ditto.”

 

******

 

Working at
PiCo
Automotive was the closest thing to being a real civil engineer without having a degree. Manny started off as an assistant to the engineering department manager, helping to create and test new more cost efficient designs. The manager relocating to take a job upstate became Manny’s lucky break. The higher-ups decided to make Manny department manager in his place. Though he wasn’t paid as much as someone with the credentials, he was very satisfied to use his ingenuity and it spared him from the intolerable option of being manager of
Merjoy
Trailer Park. That job, thankfully, had been given to Mr. Jimenez. The ultimate goal was to one day get that Master’s degree and become authentically, confidently, a civil engineer.

 

A perk to Emanuel’s job was that he could make his own schedule. That afternoon he decided to have lunch early, sitting alone at one of the wooden picnic benches under the oak trees. Everyone was still inside working except for Joey who rounded the corner of the building and walked unwavering at first, then hesitated once he caught sight of Emanuel. He neared the table. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Joey asked. Manny finished chewing the sandwich Elaine made for him. The only way Joey could have known he was outside having lunch was to go to the opposite side of the factory where the engineering offices were and ask several coworkers until he found the person who knew. Plus, instead of cocky or heated, Joey was cautious and surprisingly intimidated.  Right away Emanuel sensed that the conversation Kinsley wanted to have wouldn’t be work-related.

 

“Sure, man. Have a seat.”

 

“As you already know, I’ve burned some bridges working here. I’ve been tossed around to different departments and yesterday was my last day of a short stint in the metal works department. I’m coming to you, Manny, because you are my last chance. Your department is the last one I haven’t screwed up in yet.” He gave a cheerless smile. “So I wanted to know if you could help me get a job on your team. I’ve been letting things get to me but I swear you won’t have to worry about that if you’re my boss. I have too much respect for you.”

 

Joey respected him? What for? The two had gone to the same high school but congregated with different circles of friends. They only spoke to each other in passing at a party or a few soccer games. Images of Joey’s volatile behavior flooded his mind: Joey being dragged out of a soccer match against
La
Tormenta
after countless fouls because he couldn’t stop playing rough, Joey in the factory shoving a car part right off the work bench or hurling tools at one in frustration. Emanuel would have to be an idiot to think Joey would be a good employee in his field.

 

“Um, I’m not sure I can help you. There really aren’t any openings right now.”

 

“What if I told you this could be a win-win situation?”

 

Intrigued, Emanuel quieted. Joey continued.

 

“There are things you want to do in your life and things I want to settle in mine. I admit I have anger issues and I’m working on them. I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom and you’re the only one who can give me another chance in more ways than one. I feel pretty pathetic that I have to beg you, though I’m even more pathetic for not talking to you a long time ago. “

 

“What do you mean you’ve hit rock bottom? Is this about drugs or something?”

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