The Accidental Witch (7 page)

“Why did you buy this place?” he said looking around

“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I just fell in love with it.”

“It’s kind of morbid and creepy if you ask me. The house itself is beautiful, but all these cemeteries and all the stories about this place. You shouldn’t tempt the Devil by living so close to darkness,” he said.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I don’t believe in ghosts, but I believe in God and putting yourself near someplace where evil things have happened invites evil into your life. You don’t want to tempt the Devil,” he said.

“I didn’t know you went to church,” I said.

“I’m a Baptist,” he said. At least he wasn’t Holiness. I really couldn’t have dated someone who was Holiness.

“I don’t think the Devil wants anything to do with me,” I said. “I’m sure He has bigger fish to fry. There are thousands of more important people to tempt than me.”

He kissed me again and we walked back in the moonlight. We had sex one more time in the shower before he grabbed his clothes and took his leave. We both had to work in the morning and I had explained to him that I wasn’t really ready to sleep in the same bed with him yet. I was a bed hog and I had gotten used to sprawling out and I didn’t want to change my ways. He’d nodded and acted like he understood, but I could tell he didn’t.

* * *

Elisa was on the floor when I walked in. She looked positively miserable and I couldn’t face my failed promise to her, so I tried to hide in my office. I logged in and my computer flickered on and off, and when it came on again, it was on a website. I looked at the screen. It read “The Sanctuary House for Survivors of Sexual Abuse and Incest.” This was just too good to be true. There had to be a catch.

I read further. Sanctuary House offered housing, vocational rehabilitation, art therapy, recreational therapy, and psychiatric treatment for adult survivors of abuse suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. I picked up the phone and called them. They were a new program and they had been funded by a new grant. Not only that, but they were only a two-hour drive west of us in Mississippi. They even provided transportation.

I couldn’t believe it. I actually found a place for a patient. I printed out the paperwork for Elisa and went onto the floor with a smile on my face. As I walked onto the floor, I bumped right into Stephen. Stephen looked like he had taken a shower. Stephen hadn’t taken a shower willingly in as long as I’d known him. He had on clean clothes and he didn’t stink.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked.

I took him back to my office and he sat down. He seemed calm and collected. That was odd. I don’t think I had ever seen Stephen calm or collected. I don’t think I had ever seen him sit still. He was always pacing and babbling. Even on alprazolam, he paced and babbled.

“They’re gone,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“The voices,” he answered. “It’s like a veil has been lifted. Last night it just hit me. No one thinks I’m gay or perverted. It was all in my head. I wasn’t hearing other people’s thoughts. I was hearing my own fears.”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s wonderful.”

“I haven’t felt like this since I was twenty,” he said.

“I know,” I answered.

“I need to start my life again, but I don’t know where to start,” he said. “So many years have been lost to my madness. My parents won’t talk to me and I don’t have any friends.”

“You can rebuild your broken relationships,” I said.

“I was horrible,” he said.

“You were sick,” I said.

“I don’t understand what happened. It wasn’t the medication. I’m on the same medication I was on two years ago and it didn’t work then. It is like a light switched on in my brain and I just became myself again.”

“I’m so happy for you,” I said.

“What should I do?”

“You are free now, Stephen. You can do anything you want.”

“I want to go to college.”

“Then go to college.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?” I asked.

“For being so patient and understanding with me when I was sick, and for listening to me even when I didn’t make sense.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” I whispered.

I took Stephen back to the floor and pulled Elisa aside to tell her the good news about Sanctuary House. Elisa literally jumped for joy. She smiled and laughed and put her hand over her mouth.

“I’d lost all hope, you know?” she said.

“I know,” I said.

“You’re a saint,” she exclaimed and she threw her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek. She ran off to pack her things for Sanctuary House and I was positively overwhelmed. The nurse that day was Miranda. Miranda was probably the smartest nurse on the floor, which didn’t always make her the easiest to work with. She was methodical and precise and God help the person that got in her way.

I sat down next to Miranda and started looking through the charts. I didn’t realize I was humming while I worked, but apparently I was because Miranda just stopped working and stared at me.

“Well, you look like you’ve had a good weekend,” Miranda commented. “I don’t think I ever heard you hum.”

“I had an amazing weekend and today is turning up roses,” I said.

Miranda looked at me for a minute longer and then returned to work. Miranda wasn’t a particularly chatty nurse, but she got the job done. She moved with spectacular efficiency and gave out all the meds and did all the checks with a speed that may have broken records. I watched Miranda work with admiration before I grabbed my paperwork and headed towards group. It took me five or ten minutes going from room to room knocking and speaking very loudly to get most of the people to attend the group. Even with my persistence, two of the patients refused to get out of bed.

The group room was nothing special. It was a room with a circle of very uncomfortable chairs and a flat screen TV. There was a piano, and arts and craft supplies on the table in the back. Three large bookshelves housed the unit’s tiny library of books and games. There were magazines strewn about on various tables. The patients all sat around in this little room looking vaguely uncomfortable. I walked in and looked at what they were watching on TV. They were watching a cartoon. Well, it could be worse. I shut the TV off and sat down.

The group that day consisted of Harry, Stephen, and Elisa who all looked surprisingly bright and chipper. They were sitting together in a little group and chatting. Harry actually looked nice when he showered and shaved. The other group members were new. There was a little man with a mullet, sitting in the corner. I read on the chart that his name was George. There was another woman named Candy, but she looked everything but sweet. In fact, she was a bilateral amputee and she looked like a lesbian. I don’t like to make stereotypes, but her short hair, man clothes, and general demeanor sent out all kinds of signals I couldn’t ignore. The last patient was Ellie, one of our regulars. Like Harry, she suffered from major depressive disorder. She was one of those cases everyone had given up on. She’d already been in the state hospital and through electro convulsive therapy (ECT). ECT was once used liberally in the mental health profession but had become rare. It was saved for people who were so depressed that they would kill themselves without massive intervention. Ellie had tried to kill herself twenty-three times. She had long gashes going up her arms. It was a miracle she was still alive. She should have died. She’d put in the effort. She’d even jumped off a bridge, but she was as bullet proof as Wyatt Earp.

“Good morning,” I said brightly and I felt it that morning. I felt the brightness.

“Good morning,” Elisa said.

“Welcome to morning group,” I said. “For those of you who may not know, during morning group, we introduce ourselves and tell a little about ourselves and then we set daily goals. Okay? Who’s brave enough to start?”

“I’ll start,” Harry said. “My name is Harry and I’m here because I tried to kill myself. This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to kill myself. I’ve tried before. I’ve suffered from bipolar disorder since I was sixteen and most days I just feel like I can’t take it anymore. But honestly, yesterday, it was like something had lifted from my chest. I can think clearly. The racing thoughts are gone and that feeling like you are at the bottom of a well and can never get out, it just went away. I feel better today. Really better, not like that drugged up numbness you get when the meds are working. I looked out the window and saw the sun shining in the window and I was really happy.”

“I’m so glad to hear it,” I said with a smile. “Do you have any goals today?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I wanna go home and call my wife. I wanna try to fix all the shit I broke while I was sleeping and crying my life away. I wanna start again.”

“Okay,” I said. “What about just today? What is your little goal just for today?”

“I’d like to go home,” he said. This was a miracle because we usually had to drag Harry kicking and screaming from the floor. He never wanted to go home.

“Wonderful,” I said.

“Elisa, How about you?” I asked.

“I think this place is a miracle,” Elisa said and she began to weep. “I haven’t been able to sleep through the night without waking up screaming for as long as I can remember. I tried to kill myself two days ago. I couldn’t think of a reason to live or a place where I could go and not be afraid all the time. I’ve always been afraid and then you came and talked to me, Phaedra, and everything got better. The nightmares are gone and I’m not afraid. You know what? Fuck them all. I’m not afraid of my dad. Fuck him. My goal for today is just to talk to you, Phaedra.”

“We’ll talk after group,” I said.

Elisa began to cry again. “You are so wonderful! I never thought that anyone could help me. I never dared to believe …”

“It’s okay to believe,” I said.

“Oh,” Elisa said, “just give me a minute to put my thoughts together. I’m so overwhelmed. Let someone else take their turn.”

“Ellie,” I said, “it’s your turn.”

“I can’t,” Ellie whispered. Tears dripped down her wrinkled cheeks and puddled in her chin. “I have no goals. I just want this to end.”

“Ellie,” I said. “Last time you were here, you made plans. You were going to move in with your daughter.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Okay,” I said. “But I’m going to talk to you after group.”

She nodded and wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

“Candy,” I said. “How are you doing?”

“How do you think? I’m homeless, in a wheelchair, and that nurse out there is a bitch,” she said.

“What brought you in here?” I asked.

Candy snorted. “I wanted to die,” she said. “I ain’t got nothin’ worth livin’ for. I ain’t got no kin aboveground and nobody gives a shit if I live or die. They kicked me out of the mission and when I leave here, I’ll be sleeping in the park.”

“Well,” I said. “Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen. Can I suggest a goal for today?”

“I ain’t gonna stop you from doin’ anything,” she said.

“Why don’t we make your goal today to find a place to stay after you leave here?” I said.

“That ain’t gonna happen. There ain’t no place around here that’s gonna take an old lesbian in a wheelchair. All these Christian shelters and shit. They won’t have me,” she said.

“It doesn’t hurt to try, does it?”

“No,” she said. “You go ahead and try, but I know exactly where I’m goin’ when I leave here.”

“Where’s that?” I asked.

“Straight up to God with all my kin.”

I nodded. “I’m going to prove you wrong,” I said.

Candy snorted.

“George,” I said, “I believe you’re next.”

“Hi,” he said. “I’m George and I’m here because I thought I was going to die. I thought I was having a heart attack, but they told me it was a panic attack. I get real nervous when I have to go out and my doctor, Dr. Freeman, he said that I needed new medicine. I was taking Lexapro for three years, but then they switched me and since then I’ve been getting worse and worse and then I really thought I was gonna die yesterday, so Dr. Freeman just said I needed to come in here to get everything straightened out.” George managed to say all of that in a single breath.

“Good,” I said. “I’m glad you’re here and I hope we can get the panic under control for you.”

“I been living like this all my life. I can’t leave the house anymore and Ma, she brings me all my groceries and sometimes I talk to folk online, so I’m not quite so lonely, but it gets real lonely out there sometimes even with the computer. But I guess I’m lucky in some ways because they at least let me work from home, so I ain’t on disability or nothing and Mama takes good care of me and I pay the rent.”

“Wonderful,” I said. “Do you have a goal for today?”

“Yeah. I just wanna get this anxiety under control.”

“We’ll work on some relaxation methods this afternoon, okay?”

“Sounds good,” he said.

“Stephen,” I said. “You’re up.”

“It’s like I told you earlier. I’ve been in and out of hospitals all my life and these voices never go away. But today, they’re gone. It’s all gone and I think my only goal for today is to talk to the doctor and go home.”

“Okay,” I said with a smile.

Group ended and everyone shuffled off. I left the floor and went back to my office. I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath. Holy shit on a cracker. I was batting four-for-four. It could still all be a coincidence. I knew it could be, but the probability was slim. I took another breath. It was magic. It had to be magic. It had worked. The spells had worked. Holy farting monkeys, the magic worked. I began to laugh. I slid down the door and fell to the floor laughing. I could fix them all. I could make them all better. There would be no more suicides and there would be no more lost causes. No ECT and no giving up because of lack of resources. They’d all get better. I could save them all. I could save them all.

I took a deep breath and my smile faded a little, but I felt something smoldering inside me. Magic was real and it was mine. Things were going to get better. Everything would be different. I spent the rest of my day seeing patients and trying to find any place that would take Candy. My conclusion at the end of the day was that there weren’t any halfway houses, or group homes in all of North Alabama that would take a bilateral amputee. She was too medically complicated. She was a lost cause, but that was about to change.