Confinement Page 7

  Dr. Ethan sighed loudly again.

  "And there are many studies to prove it. We will give her probationary free time. If she grows worse, it can be discontinued."

  "It's not so easy for the patients when it's discontinued," Dr. Farbin said sharply. "They grow bitter and morose. In fact, it

  is dangerous for them to be disappointed." He then turned on a sharp angle and left the room.

  "Give me the papers to sign for Duffino," Dr. Whitney said

  quickly, signed them clearly, and looked up at Colin from under

  his thick eyebrows.

  Dr. Ethan smiled beautifully. Too beautifully, maybe, I thought to myself.

  * * ** *

  That was two weeks ago. When Duffino was told she would be getting free hours, she showed no reaction at all. But the next day she spent the whole morning drawing big yellow birds all over her white pad. The next afternoon she buried the pad under her bed so that none of her doctors could see what was going on.

  The very next day she received instructions that it was all right to go. We went together to sign out at the front desk. The nurse in charge of free hours, Frieda looked strangely at me. Then she looked at Duffino who was standing behind me. She decided everything was fine. She had no idea that half an hour ago I had gone up to Duffino and whispered, "After we sign out, meet me at the stone wall, at the bottom of the hill, down near the pond. It's a special spot."

  Duffino looked startled.

  That didn't stop me. I knew all the spots, the views from them, which guards were patrolling, and how tired they got. I knew exactly how the light hit the hillside, the moment a dark shadow would come. You could hide in the shadows if you knew they were coming. I grew up in these hills. They were more a home to me than anyplace else.

  "Just trust me, Duffino. Be there."

  She averted her eyes. It didn't matter. I knew we had a deal.

  Standing at the check-out desk now, Duffino's face was impassive, as Frieda leaned over to her.

  "Are you excited, Duffino?" Frieda whispered.

  Duffino said nothing.

  "Good luck, anyway," Frieda said, checked her out, and handed her a little badge to wear. "You'll be watched by guards out there, so be careful. You must be back in exactly two hours. Chimes will ring to let you know the time. They've released the news to the Press that you're on Free Hours. They'll be here in a few days to watch you walk around."

  Duffino took the badge and pinned it on her left shoulder. It was a bright blue badge with gold stars on it that said, Free Hours.

  Standing behind her on line, I buttoned up my navy wool sweater. No one ever called me honey. The press didn't care if I came in or went out. Soon that would all change, though, I told myself, and kicked my foot on the outdoors pavement.

  "Here, Charlotte," Frieda handed me my badge after Duffino was done.

  I took it and chuckled.

  "What's so funny?"

  "It says the children will lead the way."

  "So?"

  "You don't understand Frieda? I'm sorry for you."

  I took my pass, put it in my pocket, and ran very fast with my short, round legs to the spot I told Duffino to go. The crisp autumn air that smelled of apples and pine combs.

  The corner of the hillside I ran through was patrolled by Randolph. He and I knew each other well. A long time ago, he decided I was harmless and usually kept his watch on the inmates on the other side of the hill.

  At about ten after three I arrived at the edge of the property down near the pond. Around it was a long, natural fence, made of fieldstones that seems to have piled up by themselves. The fence looked old and seasoned, as if it had weathered every possible storm. The chill in the air made everything crisp.

  As I leaned against the sloping fieldstones and waited for Duffino, I saw Barney walk by, tall and furrowed with his strange hair and knobby skin. He walked alone to the peach tree behind the hill. I watched him pass as I looked around for Duffino.

  Barney nodded at me sweetly, pulling on his tufts of gray hair. Most inmates were happy to see me.

  Suddenly Freddy came up from the other side of the hill, and started waving. He was the looniest of us all.

  He thought he was a millionaire, that this was his estate, and we were all his welcome guests.

  As he came closer, he waved more and more wildly.

  "Hello, Charlotte, good to see you here! Waiting for me?"

  I was waiting for Duffino. "Not really."

  "Oh."

  He was crestfallen only for a moment. He came closer, as he usually did, and fell down on one knee in front of me.

  God, I thought, make him stand up tall.

  He clasped his palms together fervently. By now this was almost a daily routine.

  "Marry me, Charlotte," he pleaded.

  "Not again, Freddy."

  "Please say yes today!"

  "I can't this moment."

  "Tell me why."

  "Maybe tomorrow."

  Freddy's palms fell to his sides, like the lonely wings of a bird. He crawled up off his knees. "It's all right. I can wait."

  Every time he asked me to marry him, I said, maybe tomorrow. After all, I wouldn't want to hurt Freddy. Why else could I say?

  Once Dr. Farbin told me I shouldn't tell him "tomorrow" because I was just making it harder for him to face reality. I thought about that for twenty four hours. Facing reality. What could such a thing could possibly mean?

  Freddy nodded and strolled away. I leaned back against the stone wall and saw Lanny in the distance, sitting Indian-style on the hill with his chessboard in his lap. Sharon was sitting besides him, talking to him fervently. He seemed to ignore her. Behind them, an orderly was wheeling an inmate whose head was drooping. It was Rodney. He'd had too many doses of Insulin. Some said he would never recover. He was limp like that, for life.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Duffino walking slowly towards me. Too slowly. Her hair was loose and her face looked drawn. It must be difficult for her, I realized, to wander outdoors again.

  I looked down at her feet and noticed she was barefoot. It was too cold to go barefoot at this time of year. "Duffino," I wanted to scream. "Go back and put your shoes on. It's cold out here in autumn. By five o'clock a sharp wind rises. You can't walk barefoot now."

  I knew I must not scold her, though. Not now. She couldn't take it. Some could take it, some could not. You quickly learned here what people could tolerate, and what made them suddenly fall apart.

  As far as Duffino was concerned, I had to learn patience. I knew how much she needed me. I had dreamt of Dorothea three times since she Duffino arrived. It was a sign.

  I waved as she walked closer to me. She was squinting in the sunlight. She pulled her wool sweater tighter over her shoulders, tying both arms into a knot.

  When she saw me, I just pointed to the top of the fieldstone fence. All day long the sun baked down on it and by this time in the afternoon it was usually warm.

  To my surprise, she came over and pushed herself right up on it. I perched myself up beside her.

  "Hi, Duffino."

  To my immense shock, I thought I heard her hum. Ever so slightly, like a tiny bird. Was she actually humming? Or was I building rainbows in my mind?

  "Welcome to free hours, Duffino," I said.

  It seemed to me her humming got louder, more like the cry of a hawk. I was delighted, elated. I took it to mean she was trying to say hello.

  Chapter Seven

  What makes an afternoon an afternoon?

  We sat together on the stone fence and the afternoon sun baked our faces.

  "I'm here to help you," I said softly. "It's my destiny. But don't tell anyone, ever. If you ever tell anyone, they'll get suspicious."

  Her feet kicked at the stones.

  "You can trust me," I went on. "I was raised in a convent with nuns, like you."

  Her hands formed into a knot. I wanted to pull them apart. It's a bad sign when hands start formin
g into knots.

  "We have to work fast. I won't be here forever, Duffino. I'm getting out soon. See those guards? Wherever I go, I study them. I'm forming a map in my mind. The minute it's finished, I'm shooting out of here like a flying arrow. I don't deserve to be locked up here. Take advantage of me while I'm around. God put me here for a reason. I believe it's to help you."

  The minute I finished speaking, she lowered herself down from the stone fence. It had probably been too much for one day.

  "Where are you going?" I leaned over and grabbed her shoulders.

  She tossed.

  I held her there. My heart started beating like a hysterical bird. I leaned closer to her. "What do you want to say?"

  Her mouth opened for a second.

  "Go ahead, speak."

  She tugged away from me.

  "Don't run away," I yelled, pushing myself down from the fence. I beg you. I need you to stay."

  She stopped cold, pivoted, and looked straight at me.

  "We're all waiting, Duffino," my voice was raspy.

  Her mouth was working like a dumb doll. Her head jutted out. She was trapped in the struggle. Trying to speak and stay silent at the same time.

  "Go on, do it."

  Her head jutted out further and her lips formed a circle, letting out a piercing sound. You could hear it full way down the valley. I felt like fainting. There was no time for fainting. I didn't want the staff to hear her. But in the midst of her shrieking, she fled away.

  I started running in her direction. She stopped a second,

  and looked over her shoulder at me. Her face was flushed, and her hair was stringy.

  My whole mind was pounding.

  "Speak up, Duffino," I yelled. "I beg you!"

  A harsh afternoon wind blew up, and her hair blew fiercely in it, wrapping around her face. She stood there, rooted.

  Stealthily, I moved closer.

  "I'll teach you how to get well."

  I thought I heard an odd little laugh. It gave me the power to go on.

  "Don't expect me to understand everything unless you're willing to tell me. No one on earth understands everything! You have to trust someone though. It can't be the doctors. It isn't the Priests. It might as well be me!"

  Even as I was speaking, I could hear my words echoing through the valley, tumbling over rocks, sliding down through the streams.

  "I'll never lie to you, Duffino."

  Lie, lie . . . the strange echo went on and on.

  In my mind, I heard her reply, "No. Get away."

  "I'll never lie." I called louder, practically breathless. "Duffino, talk to me."

  From where I was standing, I could see her two hands flap up

  and down at her sides. Then she started to tear at the sides of her dress. I rushed over to her fast as I could. I knew it was

  a moment of danger. Whenever we start to come back to life, there

  is a great temptation to stop and kill it. To bury ourselves back

  in pain.

  She started to turn again as if to flee.

  "You can't run," I called, "there's nowhere to go. Look where you've landed now. You'll be trapped here forever if you don't talk."

  She was breathing hard, on the edge of babbling.

  "I want to hear words from you now. I know about you and Miguel," I yelled finally, right in her beautiful face.

  I was sorry the minute I said it. My voice became softer.

  "I read the newspaper stories. But it's more than that."

  She stopped breathing.

  "I have your papers. I can read them. I understand the words you wrote."

  She stood there, struck.

  "I took out the shoe boxes, unraveled the letters. I even have some here with me, Duffino."

  She stood, frozen in stone.

  I pulled a folded letter out of the inside of my sweater, opened it, and started reading what she wrote.

  "The minute I saw him I was ready for him. He was ready for me."

  Her face was so white it terrified me.

  "Ai, ai," I screamed in her face with my entire being, to bring the color back.

  She quickly rallied, and put her hands over her ears. To her, my cries were probably meant nothing. But I knew just what I was doing.

  "Ai, ai," I kept calling, which meant, God we're here. Come and help us if you can.

  Chapter Eight

  The minute we got back from free hours, everyone rushed to look Duffino over, see how she was doing after her first day out.

  A few reporters were there also, their cameras poised to take shots. They'd been coming regularly, and we were getting used to seeing them around.

  One reporter, Moe, was fat and friendly. Another, Tom, was slender and taut. He didn't like looking at us directly, but once in awhile, when he glanced up, you could see his eyes were clear and kind.

  Duffino showed no reaction to the attention. The reporters clicked away, and Moe came over to her directly and asked, "How was it being outside for the first time, Duffino? Say a word for the press."

  She just continued standing on line with the others, pretending he didn't exist. She gave her badge back to the door nurse when her turn came, and slowly undid the knot she had made with the arms of her sweater.

  "Did you expect to go outside so quickly, Duffino?" Moe

  persisted.

  Tom came over and touched Moe on the arm. He knew there was no use questioning her directly. I stood very close behind Duffino. and Tom stared at me then. Maybe he was wondering why someone like me was always so close around her? Good, let him wonder, I thought to myself.

  As Duffino undid the arms of her sweater, the reporters took plenty of shots. I tried to slip in them with her, but Moe motioned me to the side.

  From the corner of the far hallway, I also noticed Dr. Ethan, watching us closely. He couldn't stop looking at what was going on. He couldn't stop looking at Duffino. Poor Colin Ethan, if he had his way, he would probably come running over, hug her and say welcome back Duffino! And she would have none of it. With both hands she'd probably push him away.

  As soon as check in was over, Duffino walked quickly back to our room. I chugged along closely behind. Once in the room, she made a bee line for the wash basin. After free hours, we all had to clean our hands, polish our nails and change into our dinner uniforms.

  This itself showed respect for time, order and cleanliness. It was a sign that we were learning to become good citizens again.

  Duffino and I both washed up silently. But I, for one, wanted to talk. I wanted to ask her what she thought of the photographers. Did she like being in the papers? Did she realize she was a star? I also wanted to ask her what it felt like to walk, like a free person, if just for a few hours, over the hills.

  I didn't say anything though. Just respected her need to be alone. After she finished washing, I washed up as well. We both changed silently, left the room, and walked together down the

  long hallway to the dining room. Our steps falling in unison on the brightly polished floors.

  When we entered the dining room, it was almost filled, with stragglers coming in quickly. The days were growing shorter and the light was fading early now. Everyone wanted to huddle together when darkness descended.

  Duffino and I made our way to the table. Barney, who was already seated, stood up abruptly, at attention, and saluted our arrival.

  "No need for that," Irene tugged at his sleeve. "Sit down."

  He would not.

  "Sit down Barney. This is not the marines. Charlotte and Duffino are not your commanding officers. We are not at war."

  He seemed oblivious to Irene's comments.

  I nodded at Barney as I pulled out my chair.

  "Sit down," William yelled, cocking his head back and forth intensely.

  Barney remained oblivious, standing at attention, saluting both of us.

  I knew what he needed. "It's all right, Private. Take

  your place," I barked in a military tone.<
br />
  Barney breathed a sigh of relief, put his hand down, and sat right down.

  "You shouldn't do that, Charlotte," Irene said. "You're making him believe he's still at battle."

  "He is," I replied, as Duffino pulled out her chair and sat down.

  Before the first course was served, Dr. Whitney got up from his seat, and rang his cowbell extra loud. Silence fell quickly. The dinner grace was special.

  "Let us say grace," Dr. Whitney said. But I also noticed that in the evening he never said, "Bow your heads." It was upwards that he would have us all strain to. Any suggestion that we dip downwards would be a renewed invitation to disaster.

  "Dear God, our Father in Heaven. . ." Dr. Whitney spoke, then all of us, the whole congregation, repeated what he had said.

  "Dear God," everyone murmured, all of us loonies staring ahead. Some of us cried. One snickered. Lenny clutched his fork. Else scowled and didn't say a word. Barney repeated each word meticulously, loud and clear.

  "Help me to find strength," Dr. Whitney continued.

  "Help me to find strength," came the muffled echo.

  Freddy, next to me, couldn't get beyond, "Help me, help me," he repeated. Throughout the rest of grace he went on and on, "Help me, help me." Fat Irene broke into tears.

  "To accept my blessings," Dr. Whitney knew this by heart.

  "To accept," came the chorus, minus one member. "Help me,"

  said Freddy.

  "And for this meal which is before me, I give my thanks."

  "Thanks, thanks, thanks."

  Different people finished the last word at slightly different

  moments. Then Dr. Whitney sat down and the first course was served. It was usually some sort of fish rolled in butter and wrapped in parsley. The food was terrific here. Everybody looked down at the plate put in front of them, and I felt sorry for the

  dead fish.

  Else always said, "You know what they say. Fish is brain food. Fish gives you brains." Then we all started to eat the fish together.

  There was remarkably little conversation at our table for such a wonderful collection of friends. Everyone was usually too intent upon eating. After Freddy bit into the fish and was reassured that he liked it, he turned to me and said, "Will you marry me tonight, Charlotte?"