Call Me Crazy (11 page)

“I spoke out of anger. You are my friend and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Candy chuckles as her lips turn up slightly. “You do realize that the death rate in a mental hospital is higher than that of a regular hospital.”

“No it isn’t, you’re just making crap up now.” I say as I roll my eyes.

Candy leans forward, her smile fades, and the same longing I saw the night before is flooding her eyes.

“I die a little more each day,” her voice is soft and I have to lean forward to hear her. “I’ve lived with this disease that has robbed me of my sanity, has stolen any real life that I could have had for more years than I care to admit. I have no family, no friends, no children, and no husband. I have nothing but these white walls.”

I feel her words deep inside me and I know a little of the emptiness she must feel, though not for the same reasons.

“I just want to live, Tally. Being around you has made me see all the things that I never got to experience, all the things that I want you to get to experience. I don’t want you to wither away in this place scared of who you are.”

I nod, letting her know that I understand. “You’ve never jumped into a pond either?”

“Now I have,” she smiles and for a brief moment she is the Candy I know, not this broken woman before me.

We sit in silence, both of us lost in our own version of hell, unsure of how to escape. It’s in that moment that I remember I’m supposed to meet Trey.

“Crap,” I say jumping up.

“What?” Candy asks as she too climbs to her feet.

“I’m supposed to meet Trey at the bench.” My eyes widen as I think of the possibilities. “Candy what if he asked someone about me? They would tell him to check my room, MY ROOM!”

Candy grabs my shoulders and pulls me to face her.

“You have got to pull it together.”

I nod my head but know my eyes must still look frantic.

“I will go and see if I can find your Geronimo and you stay here and get a grip.” She gives me a firm shake as if it would help sink the message into my brain.

“Okay,” I nod, feeling slightly better now that we have a plan. The feeling quickly evaporates as I hear a knock at the door and then a familiar deep voice.

Candy turns and looks at me and winks. “Found him.”

I scamper around to the farthest corner from the door where he would have to look around Candy to spot me. I fill with worry as I wonder if he knows that I’m a patient and has come to confront Candy about it.

“Well hello handsome,” I hear Candy say and I can tell by the sound of her voice that she has a thousand watt smile plastered on her wrinkled face. “Did you finally come to your senses and realize that there is something to be said for playing with a cougar?”

I slam my hand over my mouth as a combination gasp/laugh attempts to jump out of my throat. I let my breath out slowly, trying to keep it quiet so that I can hear Trey’s response.

He chuckles. Have I mentioned I love his deep chuckle?

“I am flattered, Candy, truly I am, but I’m afraid my heart belongs to another.”

My shoulders tense at this news and I wonder if he’s had a girlfriend all along. Maybe he wasn’t honest with me the other day. My heart beats frantically and I feel like a fool for ever thinking that someone who looks like him, could ever be interested in someone like me.

“Zeke told me that Tally hasn’t come in today. I wanted to make sure she was alright,” he paused briefly and when he continued I could tell he was unsure if he should. “I was also wondering if you might give me her phone number or address. I know that sounds creepy, but I promise that I am not a stalker or axe murder.”

Candy laughs. “I’m not worried that
you
will kill her. No, Tally’s going to die of natural causes. Most likely it will be from Virgin-itis.”

I feel myself sliding to the floor as I continue to listen to Candy’s words. I feel torn between laughter and embarrassment and then wonder how I will ever face him again.

“This is a disease?” Trey asks. “Then how is it natural?”

“Disease is relative in this case Tonto. The important part is how it kills. See, knowledge is power. She won’t realize she has Virgin
-itis until it’s too late; it’s what is known as a silent killer. One night she will be lying in bed, in her tiny apartment and she will hear banging on the wall behind her. She will feel the wall shake and maybe even a picture or two crash to the floor. With a final muffled, albeit satisfied,” she adds with a sultry tone, “scream, silence suddenly envelops her and she dies.”

Trey is quiet and I begin to wonder if
maybe he has left, totally outraged by Candy’s ridiculous story but then I hear his voice again.

“How does she die?” He asks and I can tell he has figured out her ruse.
“She’s just lying there and then just― dies?”

I watch a
s Candy huffs. “You know what? Just ask Tally when you see her, k? She will be glad to give you all the gory, sad details. She isn’t here today because she went to a lake last night with some friends. Apparently her clothes got soaked so she stayed at one of their houses overnight to use their dryer. She was tired this morning and I told her to get some rest.”

“She went swimming with her
girl
friends?” It was obvious that he was fishing for details and my insides did a happy dance.

Candy shrugs. “She didn’t give me an itinerary with the list of participants. But since the house she stayed at last night was occupied by a person named
Nate
,” she drags the name out with a knowing voice, “my incredible deduction skills would tell me that it wasn’t a
girls–only
wet t-shirt party.” As Candy starts to close the door she adds. “So having her address would be pointless seeing as how she isn’t there and she mentioned her phone went swimming as well.” Just when I think the horrifically embarrassing scenario is over, Trey’s foot slips between the door and the wall.

“Will you give her a message for me?” He asks and I hear his voice rumble with anger.

Candy nods and her usual grin has disappeared.

“Please tell her that
next time I expect pictures, and that it is unacceptable for her to sleep at  Nate’s house,” he pauses and the air feels thick with anticipation as I wait for him to continue, “or any other guy’s for that matter.”

I hear his heavy footfalls getting farther from the door and slowly look up from where I have collapsed on the floor.

I see Candy’s grinning face and wait for it.

“You have
got
to jump his bones.”

And there it is.

Chapter 8

“For a brief moment I feel a strange kinship to the predators of the animal kingdom. I realize that I am not so different from the wolves, the great cats, or the bears. Like them I find that I am possessive of what I consider mine, I long to tear into one who would dare enter my territory and I have a need to provide for the female who belongs by my side. We men deceive ourselves when we claim civility.
At the core of our being, we are animals.”

~ Trey

It’s been three days since I have been to the hospital, two days since I put a hole in my wall, one day since I worked for sixteen hours straight at the ranch. And still I burn on the inside. I have gotten in too deep, too fast. My father told me once that the men of our blood only know how to love one way; with our complete being; with the depths of our soul, with the beating of our hearts, with the marrow of our bones and with every thought that invades our minds—we love completely. It was in that same conversation that he also told me to be very careful who I gave that love to, that giving it to the wrong female would be the death of me. I didn’t fully understand then, though I could see
that
love in my father’s eyes when he looked at my mother. The intensity of his emotions for her was lived out in the little things that he did for her. I’m not ready to examine how deep my feelings go, not just yet, but I know that very soon I will need to face them.

I asked my grandmother to visit my mom so that I could go and work some extra hours at Mr. Taggert’s. I’m not nervous to see her; I’m not scared, or insecure. Those are emotions that I refuse to feel when it comes to Tally because I have already decided that she is mine. I avoid the hospital because I am angry. It’s irrational and I know that. She went out with friends and had a good time, so what? She was wearing soaking wet clothes in mixed company; it’s not my business. She stayed at some guy’s house because she needed to dry her clothes, it doesn’t mean they were together. I have repeated these facts to myself a million times. I have tried to reason with myself,
but I can’t get her out of my mind. I can’t let go of the feeling that it is wrong for her to be with anyone else.

“Can you spell retaining order?”
I mutter to the empty house. My grandmother told me that she would give me one more day, but tomorrow I was to stop running. She told me that my spirit was restless, searching for something. I never fully understand her when she starts talking about the spirits and nature around us. But somehow, she always seems to hit the nail on the head.

~

I don’t hesitate as I walk towards the Mercy facility. I thought about her all night. I thought long about what I would say to her, but more about what I would not say. I thought about how much I still didn’t know about her and how much I wanted to know. As I lay in my bed last night, I made up my mind to find out if Tally Baker was the female who I could love completely, and would I be the one she chose?

“Hi Mildred,” I smile at her as I walk past without signing in. I’m not sure why she’s allowed me this leniency but I wasn’t going to complain. It just meant that I might see Tally that much faster. Not for the first time it crossed my mind that she may not be visiting her aunt today, so I silently prayed to the Spirits that she was here.  But first I needed to see my mother. I needed to talk to her and I hoped that she was having a good day.

She isn’t in her usual spot in the rec room so I head for her room. When I get there I find her standing in front of the window. She looks tired, I think to myself. Staring at her frail form, I feel shame wash over me at not seeing her for three days—all because of a girl. Not just any girl, I remind myself.

“What has you so troubled son?” Her voice comes out stronger than she looks.

I walk into the room and stand next to her. I smell the familiar scent of vanilla on her skin and I wonder if my grandmother has smuggled her in some lotion. She turns to look at me and I exhale as I see that her eyes are clear and bright. I want to wrap her in my arms and beg her to stay, to tell her that I can’t stand to see her in bondage to a disease that I can’t see and I can’t save her from. I think she sees all of those emotions in my eyes because she reaches up to pat my face gently. She motions for me to sit next to her on the bed. Once she is settled she again looks at me, really looks at me and my jaw nearly hits the floor when she speaks.

“Who is she?” Her question is so matter of fact and so dead on that it takes me a moment to collect my thoughts.

“Am I so transparent?”

“You are my son; I know you better than anyone. You are just like your father—
you only know one way to do things.”

I smile as I nod. “All the way,” I answer her statement though she didn’t ask for it.

“Bly tells me that you worked sixteen hours in one day. A man who works like that only has a few reasons to be doing so: he’s broke, he’s running from something, or he’s trying to fill an emptiness inside.” I see tears gather in her eyes and my chest tightens because I don’t want to hear what she will say next.

“I know that you are empty, because of me. It is only natural for a child to one day need the emptiness to be filled with a different kind of love than that of a parent. But it shouldn’t happen like this.” Her voice wavers and I reach out and take her hand, hoping that somehow I can give her strength.

“I don’t blame you,” I tell her. “I miss you, but…,”

“You need someone,” she interrupts, “to be strong for you too child. You need someone you can fall apart with. You can’t always be the rock, even rocks chip and break. Is she that someone?”

I close my eyes and finally say the words that just last night I had denied, words that I know can never be taken back, words given that are written on the heart that go with them.

“Yes, she’s the one.”

She pulls me to her and I feel like the little boy who at one time climbed up in her lap while she sang to him. My eyes sting and I clench my jaw, trying to hold back the tears because the other half of that statement is one that I won’t voice.

“Don’t be scared,” she whispers in my ear. “I spent one day with your father during a harvest and that night when I went to sleep I knew he was the one for me. So don’t think it isn’t possible. Your spirit is so strong and you are so faithful. Trust in your choice, Trey. Don’t trust your heart because emotions will rise and fall, but trust in the choice you have made to love her and then do it with everything inside you.”

I can’t remember the last time that I truly cried, but there in the middle of my mother’s room, in a mental hospital in Oklahoma I weep in her arms. I wrap my arms around her and hug her. I don’t know if it would be the last time that she will invite such intimacy and I treasure it.