The Skye in June (36 page)

Schmidt
’s eyebrows rose as she exclaimed, “Aha! Sister Noel! Another one who encouraged the girl’s hallucinations.”

“
We won’t have to worry about hallucinations, not with the new dosage. Shall I say you don’t want the Sister to visit the patient?” Morales asked testily.

“
Tell Mrs. MacDonald to schedule something for later. Oh yes. Her hair is a mess. It irritates me. Cut it, Nurse,” the doctor commanded before she whipped out of the room.

“Don’t worry, my little friend, I’ll get them in here.” Nurse Morales began to loosen the straps around the girl’s swollen wrists. “Let’s use your blue barrette. It’ll look nice with your eyes,” she told June merrily.

A hint of a smile crossed June
’s dry cracked lips. She knew Dr. Schmidt’s authority did not intimidate Nurse Carla Morales.

On a morning after a strong dose of medicine, June vomited her breakfast. Nurse Morales and an orderly bathed her. They chatted over her as they worked. June delighted in listening to the hospital gossip. It reminded her of the fun times talking with her sisters.

Feisty Morales spouted her distaste for Dr. Schmidt.
“In my twenty-odd years in this ward, I’ve never met such a pompous psychiatrist, and I’ve met some doosies. It’s disgusting how she’s drugging this kid.”

“
She don’t take kindly to opposition. I’d keep my opinions to myself, if I were you,” the orderly warned.

After that conversation, June trusted Nurse Morales and began to share her visions about the woman in the green cloak. The nurse listened good-naturedly, but didn
’t comment.

One day June grabbed Morales
’ wrist. “You shouldn’t worry so much about your daughter’s baby. It can’t be stopped. He’s coming soon. He’ll be okay though, even when the doctors say he won’t be. My angel is telling me this. Please believe me. I’m not crazy,” she said before lapsing into a light sleep.

A month later, Nurse Morales confided in June her youngest daughter had gone into early labor. Thankfully, all turned out well. Although puny, the baby boy was a real fighter. 

“He’s being watched over by a tiny old witch-like lady who’s like an angel to you. You’ve never met her, but you know her,” June said.

Immediately, Carla Morales knew whom June was referring to. It was surely her great-grandmother.
The childhood memories of her family’s life on the farm were painful to recall. She had lost her most precious gift of healing.

Since the age of three, Carla Morales knew she had a healing touch. She readily shared her gift with the ill or injured animals living on the family’s farm. After laying her hands on a sick beast, she would tell her father what to do to help get it better. The animal usually was cured.

Her first human patient was her father who suffered from searing headaches that caused him to lie in bed for hours. He couldn
’t work the family’s small farm and the chores mounted up as fast as the bills. With seven children under the age of eight, her mother could only ring her hands in despair. One morning when her father writhed in pain in a darkened bedroom, Carla had a miraculous encounter.

While playing in the barn with a litter of newborn kittens, a brilliant light appeared in front of her. Being an adventurous, strong-willed child, she was not afraid. She put her tiny brown hands into the ray
’s warmth. A voice of a woman spoke and told Carla to lay her hands on her father’s head. She did as she was told. When she laid her warm hands on either side of his head he fell into a deep sleep for a full day. The next day after he awoke the headache was gone and never returned. Everyone was glad Papi, as they called him, laughed and joked once again. His wife was happy for his renewed vigor for work. He said it was Carla’s touch that had cured him.

The praise Carla received for curing her father ended when she recounted it was a woman
’s voice that had guided her. Her mother reprimanded Carla, telling her to beware, for the voice might be the Devil trying to steal her soul. Frightened by the thought of evil working through her, she pushed the voice away when it came again.

Years later when she was studying to be a nurse, her mother revealed Carla
’s gift of healing was connected to her Mexican heritage. Her mother’s grandmother had been a well-respected healer, known as a
curandera
in Mexico. She had a wide knowledge of herbs and other natural remedies to cure illnesses. She also was a mystic healer who could cast out evil spirits invading the bodies of the sick to restore good health to a person’s mind and heart. That was her true healing force, her mother had said.

Carla had always sensed the voice who spoke to her had been her great-grandmother. When she questioned her mother to why she was warned off accepting the voice her mother said Papi decided when they arrived in the States for a new life it would best for the family to forget the old ways.

Relieved her healing powers were not evil, Carla prayed to the curandera for guidance. Soon her enthusiasm for the study of the human psyche was ignited. She gravitated toward nursing in the psychiatric ward where she too could help heal the spirits of those with mental pain.

Over the years she had experienced a few uncanny incidents with schizophrenic patients. One patient vividly related a dream Carla had the previous night, while another described Carla
’s home in exact detail, room by room. And then there was June’s prediction that Carla would travel to another country where she would meet a woman who would teach her about the healing power of plants and herbs. She listened to June’s prediction, but she was too emotional to speak. She didn’t confirm or deny her young patient’s psychic information. What Carla didn’t reveal was she had often dreamt that she would travel to Mexico to search for a curandera. But she always woke up before finding her.

Carla
’s interest in psychiatry led her to continue her education in the field. Her doubts about Dr. Schmidt’s diagnosis of June’s problem were supported by Joseph Campbell’s book, “Hero with a Thousand Faces.” It toppled out of a bookshelf right into her hands as she researched information on mental patients in her library of medical books. Since she was a person who respected the magic of life’s unplanned events, Carla thought it was not a coincidence this book had come to her.

Many years ago when studying psychiatry, she had a favorite passage in Campbell
’s book: “The schizophrenic is drowning in the same waters in which the mystic swims with delight.” Carla meditated on the passage. She now had a clearer understanding of what Campbell had written and she trusted her intuition; June was not mentally ill.

She observed June closely
and listened to her delusions carefully. She began to realize the girl truly seemed to have the ability of visions. The stout, dark-haired nurse became a staunch advocate for her young patient’s freedom. 

* * * * *

Chapter 33

THE CIRCLE WIDENS

THE EARLY OCTOBER morning
threatened rain with its gloom. It matched Cathy’s mood. She sat on the edge of her bed, exhausted after another fitful night with dreams of June calling to her for help.

The past five months had felt as though she were in a never-ending nightmare from which she couldn
’t wake up. Cathy would always remember 1964 as a hellish year. June had turned fourteen while in the hospital. She missed her Confirmation and graduation from Holy Savior and didn’t have the chance to start high school. Those special times in her daughter’s life could never be experienced again. She needed to bring her daughter home and prayed for it to be soon.

Cathy
’s resolve to fight for her daughter’s release had been bogged down within the first months of June’s admittance to the psych ward. Jimmy didn’t support her either. He was completely happy to leave their daughter’s fate in Dr. Schmidt’s hands, whereas Cathy was not confident in the doctor’s diagnosis. When she sought solace from Holy Savior’s Monsignor, he had offered no empathy for June’s situation. He had told Cathy the girl was being punished for her sacrilegious ways. After that, over Jimmy’s loud protests, Cathy had stopped going to Mass. Eventually her differences with Jimmy alienated them and she moved into June’s bedroom. With no one to turn to, she felt at her wit’s end.

She rolled over and too
k her rosary beads from the nightstand. Closing her eyes, she began to pray a Hail Mary and then suddenly remembered that she had promised to meet with Nurse Morales. She tugged off the patchwork quilt blanket and dragged her tired body out of bed.

June
’s nurse, who had always been kindly and helpful, had approached Cathy in the visitor’s lounge the week before. In hushed tones, she asked that they meet outside the hospital. The nurse said she might have useful information to help move along June’s recovery. The conversation abruptly ended when Dr. Schmidt appeared and demanded the nurse’s assistance. As Nurse Morales turned to follow her, she gave Cathy a conspirator’s wink.

Cathy met Carla Morales at a small donut shop on Mission Street, a few blocks from the hospital. They squeezed past two tall police officers that nodded a friendly greeting to the women. Ignoring the seductive scents of freshly baked donuts, they ordered just coffee, black for the nurse and heavily creamed with a few spoonfuls of sugar for Cathy. They picked up their cups and moved to the farthest corner to sit at a small, round table.

Carla immediately got to the point. The drugs being given to June, which were actually quite helpful in treating schizophrenia, were causing the young girl serious side effects, physically and emotionally.

“If some intervention doesn’t occur soon, I’m afraid of the long-term damage. I encourage you to seek a second opinion.” She laid a slip of paper on the table. “Here’s the number of a friend of mine, Dr. Weissman, the best psychiatrist I’ve ever worked with. He’s retired, but still very influential in his field and he’s not afraid of Dr. Schmidt. I’ve already talked with him.”

Gingerly, Cathy picked up the paper and murmured,
“Thank you for your help.”

“
You might find him a tad bit…umm…he’s a character,” the nurse confided.

“
If you mean he’s different from the others, then I think June will do well with him.” Cathy attempted a weak laugh.

“
Your daughter’s been my inspiration. Because of her I’ve had to be honest with myself. More than you’ll ever know.”

Carla
’s parting words, “The time has come to encircle June with our protection,” coincided with Cathy’s feelings. She decided now was time to move forward.

Sitting on the bus going home, Cathy felt euphoric. Hope filled her heart that June would come home soon. Two young teens got on the bus, one with very wide flowered bell bottoms and the other with fishnet hosiery and a shamefully short skirt. Everything is changing so fast nowadays. Me too, she thought.

Her f
ocus changed to her next task––to win over Jimmy to the plan.

Getting off the bus at Castro Street, Cathy stopped by the butcher shop to buy Jimmy
’s favorite cut of meat, T-bone steak and a few cheaper steaks for the rest of the family. She hesitated as she walked past the liquor store. She counted her household allowance to decide if she should buy a bottle of whiskey for Jimmy. Deciding against adding fuel to his already hot temper, she opted instead to buy a chocolate cake for dessert. After all, Annie was bringing Dave as a guest.

Jimmy hadn
’t really warmed up to Annie’s boyfriend, although he no longer forbade him to come to the house. The two men had even had a brief discussion about how well the Giants baseball team was doing. Cathy and Annie had discussed that it was time for Jimmy to accept Dave. They agreed on a plan for a dinner where the two men could get to know each other better.

The morning of the dinner, Annie had cornered her father on his way out the door to work. She asked if Dave could come to dinner to celebrate his acceptance into the Police Academy. Jimmy had said it was okay.

Dinner was ready at exactly six o’clock. Jimmy liked having his meal served the minute he arrived home. However, on this night he wasn’t home at six.

Cathy
’s cheerful mood started to fade as she fretted over keeping his steak warm. The silly bantering between Dave and Mary began to annoy her.

“
Mom, do you think Daddy forgot?” Annie inquired, nervously biting her lower lip.

“
Yeah, sure he forgot. Let’s just start without him,” Mary said, picking up her plate.

Cathy
’s face was tight with displeasure. She took Mary’s plate and began to spoon mashed potatoes and peas onto it. “No use waiting,” she said irritably.

“
Not too much. I’m dieting,” Mary said.

Dave was stroking Annie
’s arm, telling her, “Don’t worry, hon. He’ll be here.”

Just then the front door banged loudly.

“His Majesty is here,” Mary muttered under her breath.

At first sight they knew Jimmy had had more than a few drinks. The lopsided grin on his red face and his bloodshot
, bleary eyes were dead giveaways.