Elephant in the Sky (16 page)

39

When I returned to Nate's room, Pete was chatting with Addy as she took his temperature and monitored his condition.

“Hi,” I greeted them quietly. “How is he?”

“The same. Everything looks good, and the meds are forcing him to sleep. As I said, he'll be knocked out for a while. Why don't you go and grab something to eat? Maybe a shower and some fresh clothes, too. There's nothing we can do while he sleeps, and I have no doubt getting out of here for a while will make you feel better.”

I hesitated. I knew Pete was waiting for my answer, and would go with whatever I felt comfortable with.

“Go on,” Addy continued. “Really. I'll call you on your mobile if he wakes up, and you can come right back.”

“Well, okay. I guess I can go. As long as you promise to call us if anything happens or the minute Nate wakes up.”

“I promise.”

“We'll just be gone for an hour or so. Two hours, tops. You don't think he'll be awake by then, do you?”

“No, I don't.”

“Pete, is that okay with you?”

He nodded, rising out of his chair. Walking towards the door, I suddenly turned and asked, “Addy, when are you here until?”

“I'm here until seven o'clock. We've got lots of time.” She smiled warmly and ushered us out the door.

When we got to our car, Pete sat on the driver's side but didn't turn on the car. “Ashley —” he began.

“It's okay,” I said. “I know you thought it was the right thing, not to tell me. And I'm sorry my father put you in that situation to begin with. Honestly, it's such a typical thing for him to do … thinking only of himself and not the position it would put you in. Or how it would make me feel.”

Pete bit his lip. I could tell he was refraining from saying something, but I didn't have the energy to pursue it.

“The only thing I don't understand is why you didn't see the connection between what you knew about my father and the signs we were starting to see in Nate.” I was delicate with my words, careful to keep my voice calm and uncritical.

“I don't know,” Pete answered honestly. “Looking back, I guess I should have. Especially when you were telling me every day that you were concerned about Nate's behaviour. But I never linked it to what your dad was going through. I never even knew kids could go through something like this. Mental illness is for adults, isn't it?”

“Apparently not,” I said sadly.

“I'm so sorry, Ashley. I really thought Nate's hyper behaviour was because he's a kid. Kids get hyper and do weird stuff. It's just how it is. I didn't know. And you were so worried about it that I was completely focused on convincing you he was okay. I guess that, indirectly, I somehow also convinced myself.”

“And what about the depression?”

“He's been through a lot. We all have. All the bullying that he's been through has made it tough even for you and me to deal with, and we're adults. I guess I just thought that he was acting miserable because he was sad about it. Just like we were.”

I nodded. I had no energy to talk about it any further. “Look, Pete, I'm exhausted. We're both exhausted. And we have a huge mountain in front of us. Let's just move forward as a team. We need to do that. For Nate's sake.”

“I know. I agree with you. But we also need to do it for
our
sake. I love you, Ash. And you need to know I'd never do anything to purposely hurt you or this family. You know that … right?”

I nodded, wanting him to stop talking. I loved him too, but I was so tired I could barely see straight or string a sentence together.

Pete leaned over to give me a kiss on the cheek before starting the car, but I pulled away. I had meant what I'd said about needing to be a team, but somehow couldn't be near him in that particular moment. It was all still too complicated for my exhausted brain to fully process. I needed a bit more time.

Pete pulled out of the hospital parking lot and started towards home. And as we drove through the familiar streets close to our neighbourhood, I relished the silence that was as awkward as it was peaceful.

40

When we got home, Pete put on a pot of coffee. I went upstairs to brush my teeth, anxious to rid myself of the pasty layer of grime that had formed throughout the long night.

I stepped into the shower and let the hot water pound onto my back. I turned it up, practically scalding my skin as a result. Then, a tiny bit hotter. The intensity of the heat felt good, forcing my mind to focus on something different than the fear and pain I couldn't otherwise shake.

When I couldn't take the heat any longer, I turned it down and let the spray from the shower hit my face. With no one to see me cry or judge my tears, I sobbed, ultimately giving into exhaustion and sitting on the floor of the shower. I curled up into a ball and wept.

After I couldn't take any more, I got out of the shower and wrapped myself in one of our thick, white towels. Puffy-eyed and sopping wet, I stared at myself in the mirror. The face that peered back at me was so different from the one I had seen last; there was a purple welt on my temple from where Nate had hit me, and my eyes were bloodshot from crying so much. I could barely even recognize the person I had become overnight. My face, swollen and red from the shower, looked almost distorted, and my eyes appeared haunted by fear.

Water from my shoulder-length blonde hair dripped onto my shoulders as I continued to stare at myself, feeling almost drunk. My bloated eyes were making things seem blurry, and I was so over-caffeinated and in need of food that I felt jittery and faint.

When I was finally able to peel myself out of my towel, I went to our walk-in closet and changed into comfy jeans and a warm turtleneck. I shuffled down the stairs and into our kitchen, to let Pete know he could have the shower.

I grabbed more coffee and sat at the kitchen table to call Tay. I needed to talk to her myself. To give her my own update, and see how Grace was doing.

“We're good, Ash. Don't worry about us. The kids are all getting along well, and we can be a big, happy family over here for as long as you need. Don't worry about us.”

“Thanks. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“Grace has calmed down now that she knows Nate is safe. But she has a lot of questions. She keeps asking to see you. Do you think you'll be able to see her at some point soon?”

“I don't know. I want to, of course. And I'll call for sure. But I'm not sure I'll be able to see her today. They think Nate will wake up around dinner, so I want to be there by mid-afternoon at the latest. And she's in school until then.” I felt guilty for not going to see Grace, but I couldn't leave Nate. I was being pulled by the opposite poles of my children.

“Do you think I could bring her to the hospital?”

“No. I don't want her there. Not yet, anyway. Nate hasn't woken up yet, and it's a bit of a scary place. I think it would be too much for her. She can't be there until I've figured out a way to let her know what's going on in a way that she will understand.”

“Okay. So then what should I tell her?”

“Tell her I'll call her later on tonight. That I miss her and love her, but that I need to be with Nate right now.”

“And what do you want me to say about Nate?”

“Just that he is sick, and he'll be okay, but he needs to stay in the hospital for a while so the doctors can monitor him and better understand what is going on with him.”

“She's a clever kid, Ash. She's going to figure things out sooner than you realize. You need to think of a way to be more honest with her.”

“I know.”

We said goodbye, and I downed the rest of my coffee before grabbing my coat and heading to the car to wait for my husband. The toast Pete had put in front of me before going upstairs remained untouched. I wasn't hungry. And I couldn't stay in our kitchen any longer. Everywhere I looked I saw the police officers who had been there less than twenty-four hours earlier … where they had stood, where they had sat … and it instantly took me back to the fear that had flooded through me when Nate was missing and I thought there was a chance we might not see him again.

With Nate found, I just needed him to get better. To be healthy. Normal, and completely recovered.

But I didn't know when that would happen. Or if it even
could
happen. So despite the fact that Nate was no longer on the streets by himself, and was now lying safe in a hospital bed, I was still deathly afraid that we might not actually find my son.

41

Nate finally woke up the next day. He hadn't stirred for over twenty-four hours. Pete and I had both slept in the hospital room, a favour called in by Addy before leaving her shift. Family members weren't usually allowed to stay, but because Nate was so young, and still sleeping, the hospital had made an exception.

Just before seven a.m., Nate opened his eyes. The straitjacket had been removed long before, once the meds had knocked him out, and Nate began to shift in his bed, lifting his arms to touch his face.

“Nate? Baby? It's Mommy. I'm here. Daddy, too. We're here for you, sweetie. Are you … are you feeling alright?”

“Mommy? My throat. It hurts. I'm thir-thir-thirsty,” Nate croaked. Pete instantly left the room to get some ice chips. Addy had warned us that Nate's throat might be dry when he woke up, less from the meds and more from the dryness of the hospital.

Pete returned with a cup full of ice chips, and I helped feed them to Nate. He seemed perfectly normal, as though he weren't really sick and was just a bit weak from the flu. He tried to sit up, but lacked the energy he needed. Pete pressed the button to lift the bed.

“Look, champ. One of the coolest things about being in the hospital is the super-awesome bed. You can press a button and it helps sit you up,” Pete said, continuing to press the button. I shot him a look and shook my head. I had no idea if we should be showing Nate things that he could “play with” while he was there. But then again, I didn't know what we should be saying or not saying.

“Hospital?” Nate asked. “What do you mean?”

“You're in the hospital, Bean. You gave us quite a scare last night. We couldn't find you for a while, but the nice police officers helped us find you, and we brought you to the hospital to make sure you are okay.”

“I'm not at the hospital,” Nate responded, matter-of-factly.

“Where do you think we are, honey?” I asked.

“We're at the zoo. In a holding tank. The zookeeper is making sure we're safe. All of us. You. Me. Daddy. Noah.” Nate spoke slowly, as if trying to force out each word.

“Safe?” I asked.

“Yes. From the elephants. They want to kill us. They're mean. With huge teeth. And they growl, kind of like lions.” Nate paused, looking exhausted. Neither Pete nor I knew what to say.

“Honey, Noah is not here. It's just Daddy and Mommy.” I had no idea if I should be going along with what Nate was seeing or if I should tell him the truth.

“
Yes
, he is,” Nate continued, appearing frustrated. “And the elephants are going to hurt him if he doesn't stay safe. And they want to hurt you, too, Mommy. That's why I had to find you. I had to find you in New York. Because the monsters were going to get you. To hurt you. Maybe even kill you.”

“I … uh … I see. That's awful.”

“Can't you hear that?” Nate asked in a groggy voice. I strained to hear, but there was nothing.

“On the radio? Can you hear it? They're talking about me. The zookeeper is being interviewed on the radio, and he's talking about
me
. On the radio! Can you hear it? Listen …” Nate seemed almost excited.

Pete and I paused, listening for the sake of our son.

More silence.

“See? He just said that I'm finally safe from the mean elephants! The ones that fly all around in the sky and want to kill us,” Nate continued. He had a sudden burst of energy, and seemed frustrated that Pete and I couldn't seem to keep up or understand what he was saying.

“Okay … what else is he saying?” I glanced at Pete. For the time being, I decided to go along with Nate's delusions to try to avoid any agitated behaviour.

“That they're going to lock up the elephant monsters. To keep us safe. They're doing it all for us. Isn't that nice of them?” Nate's response was starting to slow, and he slinked further into his bed.

“Mommy? Can you pull the sheets up on me? I'm cold.” Nate's eyes were beginning to close. I pulled the covers up over him, just as I had always done when he stayed home with the flu, and motioned for Pete to go and ask the nurse for an extra blanket.

“I'm glad you're safe, Mommy. I'm happy that you and Daddy and Noah are … here. That we're at the zoo … together …” Nate's voice trailed off as he went back to sleep. We were at the hospital, but my son was happy that we were at the zoo. He was so very sick.

I was tucking him in as best I could when Pete returned with a blanket. Following directly behind him was Addy, who had returned for another shift.

“So, our boy woke up, did he? That's great!” Addy said, greeting me with a smile. “How long was he up for? And did he just fall back to sleep?”

I nodded in response. “He was awake for about five minutes, but he was really groggy and then seemed to need to sleep again.”

“That's perfectly normal. I suspect he'll be really sleepy for a while. Likely a few days.”

I nodded, trying to muster the grit to admit, out loud, that my sweet and innocent boy was convinced monster elephants were about to kill us. And that we were in a zoo, seeking protection.

“He, uh, he's talking about flying elephant monsters still,” I said through a wavering voice. “He … he thinks they're going to kill us.”

Addy responded without missing a beat. “Was that what he was fixated on when he was going through the extreme psychosis?”

“Yes,” Pete replied. “He talked about that a lot before he left the house. You know … when he went missing.”

Addy nodded. “It's not a surprise he's still delusional and experiencing psychosis. Did the night-shift nurse tell you about Dr. Aldridge?”

I shook my head. The nurse who had replaced Addy through the night hadn't been anywhere near as good as our new favourite nurse. We'd barely talked to her when we'd returned to the hospital, and then we'd tried to get some sleep.

“Dr. Aldridge is a psychiatrist who specializes in mental illness in children. She came to check on Nate yesterday while you were gone.”

“Oh! We missed her?” Guilt filled the pit of my stomach as I realized I should have stayed at the hospital. I didn't need a shower. Or sleep. Or food. I just needed to be there for my son.

“It's okay, Ashley. Don't think for a second that you should have stayed here on the off chance that Dr. Aldridge visited Nate,” Addy said warmly as if reading my mind. “She said she would be back today. She also ordered more Lorazepam in case his agitation persists. So when Nate wakes again, if he's still upset we'll give him some more. Pills this time, though. No more needles, unless he refuses the meds.”

“More meds?” My mind was reeling. In the wild and rabid state of the ER the first night we had been there, there had been no time to discuss giving Nate a shot of Lorazepam. And he had clearly needed something. But the thought of starting down the path of an overly medicated boy made my stomach churn.

“We'll see how he is when he wakes up. One day at a time, right? And sometimes, one hour at a time.” Addy smiled at us. “How are you both today? Ashley, are you feeling any better than you did yesterday?”

“Me? Oh, I'll be fine,” I responded.

“Did you sleep much last night?”

“Not really. I appreciate being able to stay, but the chair wasn't the most comfortable sleep ever, and I've got a lot on my mind.” I refrained from saying that it wasn't just the chair that had been uncomfortable. The all-night screaming from other hospital rooms had also kept me awake.

“And Pete? What about you?”

“I'll be okay.” Pete's answer was short. Vague and imprecise.

“Okay, well I'll leave you two alone. Let me know if you need anything at all, and I'll be back to check on Nate in a bit.”

Addy left the room, and I followed suit a few moments later. I headed to one of the courtesy rooms they reserved for private phone conversations. I picked up the receiver and dialed Tay's number.

“Hi,” I said, when she answered the phone. “It's me.”

“How's Nate?”

“Not great, to be honest. I don't really want to talk about it right now, though. I'm worried about Grace.”

“Yeah, I know. She was pretty upset when she got off the phone with you last night,” Tay responded gently. I knew she wanted to be honest with me about what was going on with my daughter, but was sensitive to doling out more worry when I was buried under the stress of what we were dealing with at the hospital.

The night before, I'd had a long conversation with Grace, and I'd stuck to the story that I'd asked Tay to tell her. But it hadn't gone well. Just as my always-knowing friend had predicted, Grace was unsatisfied with the explanation and desperate to know the whole truth. She was a bright girl, and accused me of knowing more, but I was adamant in my quest to protect both her and Nate.

“Grace, honey, I really want to be with you again too,” I'd told her during our conversation. “But you're the big sister. And you need to be brave at Tay's house. For your brother's sake. You won't be there for long. I promise.”

“You don't mean that. You don't love me! You aren't even
here
with me. You love Nate more than me. You don't even
care
about
me
,” Grace had retorted back emphatically. While I normally dismissed my daughter's drama with annoyance, her words, at that moment, had broken my heart.

“Sweetie, just because I'm not with you doesn't mean I don't love you. I love you and Nate equally. Always. And absolutely the same amount. Even when we're not together. And I love
you
, Grace Marie Carter. Very, very much.” I was pleading with a twelve-year-old to understand the situation, which was unfair given that even I couldn't grasp what was going on.

There was silence on the other end.

“Grace, I promise we'll be together as soon as possible. But, right now, Dad and I need to be at the hospital so they can find out why Nate is sick.”

Again, no answer came from Grace.

“So can you be the big sister?” I asked her. “And be very brave? For your brother's sake?”

“Whatever.”

“Grace, please … if not for your brother, then can you do it for me?”

“I
said
, whatever.” Grace's clipped voice sounded wounded.

She'd dropped the phone quickly after that, saying she had to go do her word problem assignment. Always the bright girl who frequently used her cleverness to manipulate a situation, she'd deliberately chosen math as her exit strategy. She knew there was no way I'd refute the need to do homework.

“Ashley? Are you still there?” Tay asked. Her voice on the other end of the line snapped me back to the present. “I asked if there was anything I can bring you today.”

“Oh, sorry. No thanks. We're good. We can grab food in the cafeteria. And I don't think they allow visitors outside of the family in here anyway.” I had no idea if that was true or not. I felt terrible about lying to Tay but, more than that, I felt guilty for making up an excuse to keep her away because I was too embarrassed to let my lifelong, always-understanding best friend visit us in the psych ward where my son had been admitted.

The truth was that I didn't want Tay to see the place where the crazy lunatics stayed when they were too delusional to exist in society. The place where schizophrenics went when there was nowhere else for them to go. The place
my son
had to stay because it was where he belonged, so the doctors could help him get better. And to make him “normal” by the standards of the society we all live in.

The moral compass that I'd followed my entire life, which had always fostered the complete acceptance of everyone for who they were, was in disarray. Of course, there was no chance I'd not accept Nate for everything that made him
him
, including any demons that might have jumped into his brain because of a chemical imbalance that was as uncontrollable as the colour of one's skin. Or one's sexuality. Or being diagnosed with cancer.

But my pendulum was quickly swinging from the steadfast belief in a fused world of unique human beings to the side that flourished in the comfort of segregation and protection. When it was a minority person outside my family who needed acceptance and inclusion, I never stopped short in taking every measure possible to help them feel comfortable. Yet what I hadn't stopped to realize before was the raw fear and overwhelming anxiety felt by a person when it is their turn to be integrated into “normal” society. I had in no way begun to realize the truth behind what it would feel like to be
the one
— or the mother of
the one
— who needed to suddenly blend in with our not-yet-fixed prejudiced world of cruelty and bigotry.

I had been unaware of all of this. And as I tried to temper my overwhelming need to isolate my son and protect him from others, I realized there was nothing blissful about my ignorance.