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Beth awoke, bleary-eyed. She lay quietly, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light. Adriana wondered if Beth would be disappointed that it was their father and not Aunt Penny before her. But she saw a small smile lift the corners of Beth's mouth. Mr. Song continued to sing, even twirling around at one point, his elbows thrusting energetically. He finished with a grand sweep of both arms, bending onto one knee—like a dancer, Adriana thought. Beth giggled, and then put her hand to her mouth.

Mr. Song's eyes shone happily. He was breathing hard, after his performance. Elspeth stepped quietly backwards out the bedroom door and closed it.

Samantha was awake, watching. Her mouth smiled, but her eyes were sad. Adriana waved at her, and Mr. Song turned around, and dipped his head toward Samantha. She cackled behind her hand, which made Beth giggle even harder.

Mr. Song sat on the edge of the bed. “How would you girls like to go for milkshakes at John's Lunch?” he asked. Milkshakes were his favourite, but he always saved them for special occasions. Adriana nodded, but she realized she was exhausted. She lifted her hand. “You guys go,” she said weakly. “I need to sleep.” She saw how disappointed her father was. “But can you bring me back a strawberry shake?” she asked. Mr. Song smiled and nodded. “And one for Samantha?” Adriana whispered.

Beth scrunched the covers of the bed up and put her feet on the floor. It seemed she was almost reluctant to get up, which Adriana thought was strange, considering it was a bed in a mental hospital she was getting up from. Adriana gave her sister's shoulder a squeeze and then climbed under the covers. She could barely wait to go back to sleep. Her father and Beth hung on for awhile, watching as her eyelids closed. Adriana had a strange sensation, that she was being pulled away from them by a tide, into an illimitable ocean. Her father's shirt was the last thing she saw, its mother-of-pearl buttons glinting at her from the shore.

Chapter 24

When Adriana awoke, she was alone in the room, a strawberry milkshake sitting on the side table. She sat up on her elbows. Samantha was gone, and dusk was falling. Adriana drank the milkshake quickly, as though she were making up for all the calories she'd missed over the past couple weeks. She thought of charcoal, as she sucked on the straw, and shuddered.

Adriana felt alone in her room, which was darkening quickly. Summer had gone extinct, and October was almost upon them. She'd been in hospital three weeks now, while all the university students had their noses in their books. Except for her, of course, and Jazz, who was having an abortion tomorrow. Adriana felt flat, realizing she wasn't going to be there, and that she had better call Jazz now. She climbed out of bed, rubbing the goose bumps on her arms.

The hall seemed full of people pacing and nurses hurrying back and forth. Jeff sat glued to the Weather Channel, while Redgie and Marlene, who had also been transferred to Mayflower to make room on Short Stay, talked quietly in the background. Redgie looked glum, resigned to his fate. Marlene glanced up as Adriana walked by, raising a hand in greeting. Adriana lifted her own hand. She felt like a ghost, gliding among the living.

A few people sat in the kitchen finishing up their supper. The phone was free but a male nurse was standing beside it, his arms resting on the counter. Adriana sat down in the seat near the phone and the nurse moved sideways to give her room, but didn't leave.

Adriana dialed Jazz's number with a shaky hand. She'd be back by now, probably making dinner for when her mother got home. “Hello?” Jazz answered breathlessly. Adriana hesitated a moment.

“It's me,” she said. Jazz's voice went hard.

“Where the hell are you?” Adriana knew she was worried.

“I came back to the hospital.” She could hear Jazz's brain ticking over.

“Why?” Jazz asked calmly, with that cool curiosity that Adriana hated.

“It doesn't matter,” she said. “They won't let me come with you tomorrow.” Adriana felt a stab of pain in her own heart.

Jazz said finally, “It's okay.”

Adriana sat rigid in her chair. She knew Jazz was struggling. “Jazz,” she said, “everything will be alright.” She wanted to add that an abortion was routine, like having cataract surgery, but she didn't think it would help Jazz to hear it. “I'll pray for you,” Adriana said in a quavery voice. She felt stunned. Where had that come from, she wondered.

Jazz snorted, sounding like herself again, Adriana thought with relief, but all she said was, “Thanks, Adriana,” in a small, flat voice that Adriana knew meant she was resigned to the worst.

When Jazz hung up the phone, Adriana felt like crying. But instead she went back to her bedroom and sat on her bed.
Please, God
, she prayed,
Make everything okay for Jazz, help her to not be afraid.
It didn't matter that Adriana didn't believe in God. He was what was left to her, now that there was no one else.

 

Adriana woke up groggy the next morning when Samantha came into the room, her hair short and puffed, looking almost like a wig. She sparkled, as though she had a happy secret. Adriana nodded. “Nice hair,” she ventured. Samantha laughed giddily.

“The hairdresser was in today. I've been waiting for a month!” Samantha said. Adriana thought about that. How long had it been since Jazz had cut her hair?

“And I have a date tonight,” she sang, “with that hunky nurse with the earring,” she said. “He's going to take me to church!” The hospital chapel was having a performance by a local choir. Adriana happened to know that the nurse with the earring was accompanying anyone from Mayflower who wanted to go to the concert. Still, she nodded. Why burst Samantha's bubble?

Samantha was sashaying and singing to herself. She opened her locker. There was her other dress, the clean one, hanging there. Adriana wished she had something to lend Samantha to go with her outfit. She hadn't brought anything to the hospital except sweatshirts and jeans.

Samantha took the dress from the locker, saying, “I'll just have to give this a good iron.” She draped the dress on its hanger over her arm. Adriana wanted to say something—good luck, or best wishes, or knock him dead—something to acknowledge Samantha's excitement and anticipation, but everything she thought of sounded lame.

Elspeth poked her head in the door. “Adriana, can the doctor see you for a moment?” Samantha held up her dress and swished a little. Elspeth smiled. “Don't we look nice today?” she said without a trace of sarcasm. Samantha beamed.

Adriana crept out of bed, her blanket wrapped around herself. “Are you cold?” Elspeth asked. Adriana nodded. She didn't want to have to explain that she felt weak and in need of protection. She followed Elspeth's sturdy frame. She thought of a baby elephant holding on to its mother's tail with its trunk.

 

Jeff was pacing back and forth in front of the nursing station. He knocked on the wooden half door to try to get the nurses' attention. “I'm busy, Jeff” came an angry voice. “I've talked to you twice in the past two hours. Now unless you want to take something for that anxiety, I suggest you go lie down and try to rest.” Jeff stood stock still, eyes dark and glittering. He looked like he was struggling to say something but nothing came out.

Dr. Burke met them at the door to the interview room. He ushered them inside and closed the door. Adriana sat by the window as usual. “So Adriana,” he began. Adriana looked at his hands, clasped on his knees in front of him. “How are you feeling now?”

Adriana looked at her own hands, pale and twisting. “I want to know what's wrong with me,” she said.

Dr. Burke sat back. “Well, what do you think is wrong with you?” he asked.

Adriana hesitated. Was this some kind of a trap? “I think I'm depressed,” she said.

“We've established that,” Dr. Burke said, nodding.

Adriana took a deep breath. “And I'm psychotic,” she said. Dr. Burke nodded. “I mean I think I'm paranoid. And I'm scared I have schizophrenia.”

Dr. Burke leaned forward. “Adriana, in my professional opinion, schizophrenia is unlikely,” he said. Adriana felt a trickle of relief. “But I think you're right about the psychosis, the paranoia,” he said. “When did you first notice something was wrong?” he asked.

Adriana thought for a moment. It had been on Short Stay that she started thinking that there were cameras in the ceiling.

Dr. Burke leaned in. “Adriana, when you were on Short Stay, you talked to Fiona about your mother, who appears to you to chastise you.” Adriana was shocked. Had she mentioned her mother? Then she recalled, with some embarrassment, an outpouring of confidences, into Fiona's sympathetic ear. Dr. Burke looked thoughtful. “We aren't sure if your visions of your mother are part of your psychosis and whether you've had a bit of it since you were quite young.”

Adriana felt stunned. Was it possible, that she'd been ill since her mother died? Viera hadn't been around much of late—and it had already occurred to Adriana that the meds might have something to do with it.

“A traumatic experience like losing your mother at an early age could be stressful enough to cause a break with reality,” the doctor said. Adriana turned those words ever in her mind. What did they mean, really?

Dr. Burke continued. “You told Fiona that you saw your mother in the back of your head. That she spoke to you and that sometimes you even smelled her cigarettes. This could be psychosis,” he said. “Your symptoms in this regard seem to have abated since you started taking a major tranquilizer, or, as they are commonly called, an anti-psychotic. Am I right about that?”

Adriana didn't know, and didn't know what to answer. If she said yes, would that mean she was mad? But maybe it would also mean she was making progress, to the doctor's way of looking at things. She slumped in her chair. If her mother's appearance was merely a symptom, did that mean she wasn't really looking down on Adriana, wasn't coaching and chastising her, wasn't with her all those times when Adriana thought she was?

Dr. Burke remained quiet, peering at her. The sky had clouded over and the interview room had grown quite dark. Elspeth's face had taken on a haggard look. She's tired, Adriana thought. She pictured Elspeth, granddaughter on her hip, bringing her daughter supper in bed after a full day's work. Suddenly it didn't seem so implausible.

“We think you are doing well on this medication,” Dr. Burke said, “and it seems you are tolerating it well… do you notice any side effects?” Adriana shook her head. Nothing, no tremors, restless legs, only a mildly dry mouth. She was one of the lucky ones, as bitter as that thought was.

“I'm going to increase your privileges, so you can go out on the hospital grounds for 15 minutes at a time. We'll see how you manage. I realize that it's not what you'd hoped for, but it's what I feel I can offer right now.” Adriana nodded, eyes downcast. She knew it was more than she might have expected, but not enough to see Jazz.

“Maybe you should get some rest, Adriana.” Dr. Burke offered. “Big storm's coming tonight. I don't know if any of us are going to be able to sleep.”

He stood up and Elspeth stood with him. Adriana's eyes flickered up at them, slightly frantic. Elspeth put her hand on Adriana's shoulder. “Have faith Adriana. People get better all the time,” she said.

Adriana left the interview room for the common area. Jeff, as usual was glued to the Weather Channel. Marlene and Redgie rocked in their chairs, also listening intently to the TV. An old man was snoozing upright on one of the sofas.

“Hurricane's coming,” Redgie informed Adriana, in a hushed voice. Adriana could see the huge clot of white, swirling up from the Gulf of Mexico. “The boy's gonna flip,” Redgie said, inclining his head toward Jeff. Jeff had a look of fascinated horror on his face as he tracked the storm. His hands twisted a white hospital issue facecloth which he used every so often to wipe the sweat from his upper lip.

Adriana felt Jeff's terror. She wished she could say something helpful but she knew the black abacus inside his brain was clicking over, calculating the possible damages this storm would visit upon him and the people around him.

To escape from the tension in the common room, Adriana decided she would go outside for her quarter hour. The field in back of the hospital, above the harbour, would be full of goldenrod and asters. The crickets sang all day and into the night she imagined. Sometimes Adriana would see people wading through the grass and weeds, as though they were looking for something. Were they collecting bugs, she wondered, or plants? Maybe they merely wished to stand in this tangled patch of unmown wilderness, this island of unregulated growth, to feel the sun on their hair, as it shone down just as it had for billions of years. There was something warm and stupefying about the field that made Adriana want to lie down in it, to bury her head among the roots and become a part of the flora.

As she walked back to her room to put on her sneakers, Adriana wondered if Jeff had ever had a pet to comfort him. She imagined him with a big slender dog, a cross between an Irish setter and a wolf hound, with mottled fur and freckles. There was no chance of him having one here in hospital, but maybe he'd like a stuffed animal? She dismissed the idea. Too embarrassing for a grown man. It occurred to Adriana that she could catch him a cricket. She had a glass jar from some peanuts her father had brought her, with a screw-on lid, which she could poke holes in.

Adriana went outside clutching her jar. The grasses were thicker and more tangled than she expected, so she bypassed them for the lower part of the field where someone had mowed with a ride-on machine. She could hear cricket song but couldn't see them. Overturning a stone, she found a black insect with grasshopper legs and a creaky voice. She cupped it in her hands and released it into the jar, threw in some grass and screwed on the lid. With an old nail and a stone for a hammer, she punctured the lid full of holes. So that took care of ventilation but what about water? She wasn't sure if crickets drank water. Perhaps they got enough moisture from eating grass? She was a little worried about how to care for this small creature. Her father had told her when he was a boy in China, children caught crickets and made tiny carts for them to pull. They were kept as pets, so presumably her father would know about their needs. She made a note to call him.