Elysium (9 page)

“Adrianne … Adrianne … can you hear me?” The doctor waved his fingers before her eyes, then took some notes. “Reduce her dosage by 25 milligrams. Maybe tomorrow she’ll be more responsive.”

*ERRORS LOCALIZED*

.
.
.

“Adrianne … Adrianne?” the doctor said.

She turned her eyes toward him.

“Blink if you understand me.”

She blinked.

“Do you know where you are? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”

She blinked twice.

“You’re in a hospital. We are taking good care of you. Don’t worry, just rest.”

He tapped her on the arm and smiled grimly. She felt feverish inside her skull, as if she were smoldering behind her face. Heavy, drowsy. Her head turned, her consciousness followed moments later. Cool lids closed over hot eyes. Slowly she drifted back to sleep.

>>

>> system reset

.
.
.

“How are you doing today?”

“Better.”

“Good, good.”

.
.
.

It was a warm day, and the patients were allowed outside. They wore soft hospital gowns that were almost white, but upon closer inspection they were light blue. Some with stripes. Some with paisleys. Some with tiny wildflowers. The patients roamed this section of the grounds in sight of the staff. Some stood still with sun on their faces. Being locked up made the warmth of it feel like heaven. Trees surrounded the neatly kept lawn, and chairs painted a crisp white sat lonely among them. Adrianne found a plot of soft grass and sat down. Wet soaked through her gown to her butt. She didn’t care. She liked the smell of the grass. Her mind drifted off to the place it had been going more and more lately. She was in her safe place.

Behind her loomed a large brick mansion with a large porch bordered by Corinthian columns. It was a home for those who couldn’t cope on the outside.

“Adrianne, how are you feeling today?” a doctor asked.

“Fine,” Adrianne said, not facing him.

“Adrianne, my name is Dr. Tomas. I have been assigned to your case.”

The wind smelled good, sweet like newly fallen rain. She felt him sit down in the chair next to her and wondered what he looked like, though not enough to turn around and see for herself.

“Could you tell me why you did it?” He waited for an answer that did not come. “Adrianne, why did you try to kill yourself?”

“I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“If we are to make any progress, you will need to be honest —”

Adrianne heard his words and ignored their meaning. It was the way of things, she thought. People talk and talk and say silly things that don’t mean anything.

“War is coming,” she said.

“What?”

“War is coming.”

She turned around and faced him for the first time. He was young. Too young to be a doctor, she thought. And on this side of handsome. She stood for a moment to gaze at the trees whose boughs swayed gently in the breeze. Something rustled in the wet leaves covering the ground — a small rabbit, sitting on its hindquarters, nibbling on a stalk of grass. As she watched, it hopped away, disappearing into a hole it had dug somewhere.

“A war is coming …”

In a comfortable living room–style lounge with a ping-pong table off to the side, a nice setting with heavy locks and bars on the windows and a basketball game on the television, a man with salt-and-pepper hair, who seemed as though he belonged at home playing with his grandchildren, sat in front of the set. People, young and old and of every shade and description, roamed around. Some looked visibly frightened, others looked tired. Adrianne sat by herself, staring into that far-off place in her mind again. She thought in numbers.

One zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
…

“There’s some crazy ass motherfuckers up in
here
!” Hector laughed. He wore ill-fitting Daisy Dukes with thick unshaven legs and held a hairbrush.

“Hey, honey. What you doing?” He pointed to Adrianne with his brush, then smoothed it over his shoulder-length hair that was tousled even though he constantly brushed it.

…
one zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
…

“Okay, honey. Whatever. Stare into space for all I care.” Hector waved his brush in Adrianne’s face, then sat down. “Shove over a bit, sweetie, so I can sit, gee.” Adrianne moved.

…
one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
…

“You’re new. What you in here for?” Hector asked. “No, wait, let me guess … schizo, right? Or, bipolar with complications.” Hector laughed. “Lawd, those damn complications will get you every time!” He brushed his hair. “Me? Well, honey, I’m not here for the reason you think. Yes, I
am
a transsexual, thank you. Not a transvestite. That’s a whole nother thing. I don’t mess around in women’s clothes ’cus I like it. I
am
an actual woman. God just gave me a little something extra at birth, which ain’t none of your damn business. But they think I need to get my head straight, s’cuse the pun. It was all that crying I did after my momma passed. They say that I can’t take care of myself.”

…
zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero
…

“But I know better, though.” Hector stopped brushing his hair. “Right, Little Stevie?”

“Yes, right. You’re right. You’re always right,” Little Stevie said as he sat in front of the television.

“I mean, crying after your momma dies is normal, isn’t it? It’s as normal as 1-2-3. You’re supposed to cry when you lose somebody special, right? Well, these suckers think it was a sign that something was wrong. So what, I cried for a few months? Ain’t nothing wrong with me, honey. I know who I am. I was just born into the wrong body, that’s all. And my momma was the only one that understood. The only one that mattered …” Hector went back to brushing his hair. “Right, Little Stevie?”

“Yes, right. You’re right. You’re always right,” Little Stevie said.

…
one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
…

“Now they got me on these happy pills.” Hector did a wiggle dance with his butt on the couch next to Adrianne. “Woo! Love them happy pills.”

“War is coming.”

“What you say, honey?”

“War is coming.”

“War is coming? As far as I can see, war is already
here
!” Hector blurted with a fake laugh. “Right, Little Stevie?”

“Yes, right. You’re right. You’re always right,” Little Stevie said.

“Oh, yes, you gotta fight through this life, girl. Every day, every day. Every-single-day is a battle, chile.”

…
one zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
…

“You know what? I like you. You wanna be my friend, honey?” Hector said, gently poking Adrianne with his hairbrush.

“You’re already my friend, Helen.”

…
one zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
…

“What did you just say?” Hector poked her some more with his brush. “What did you just call me?” Hector bopped her hard with the brush.

Adrianne focused for the first time in days. “Helen, you didn’t have to hit me. I said that I was your friend.”

Hector stood up. “God, how you know my name? Only my momma knows my name! And she’s dead. Dead, dead, dead. Chile, how you know my name?”

The orderlies came over. They were bulky men who grabbed Hector by both arms.

“Come on, Hector. Leave her alone.”

“No, but she knows my name.”

“We know your name, too, Hector. It’s time for your pill.”

“No,” he said. “How you know my name, honey? You know my name,” Hector said as he was taken away. “But she knows my name. Honey, how you know my name?”

…
zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero zero zero one
one zero one one zero
…

>>

>>

>> opendialog SECTOR: 10110001

: How are you doing?

“What?”

: I said, how are you doing?

“You tell me.”

: You seem troubled.

“I’m not troubled. Just tired.”

: Get some rest. It will be better soon.

“Who the hell are you anyway? And how are you in my head?”

: end;

>>

>> continue

BRIDGE PROCESS: CONTINUED

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.
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“How are you doing?”

“Why do you keep asking me that? You are always in my head.”

Dr. Tomas took down some notes on his clipboard.

“We want to try something with you that we think might help.”

“Are you asking me for permission or telling me what you are going to do?”

He took down some notes.

“You seem more aware today. That’s good.”

Adrianne scanned the office. Pictures of the doctor’s children and of his new bride on their wedding day sat on his desk. A framed painting on the wall overshadowed the room. It was of a man sailing a boat along a river and an elk staring up from the bushes to the side.

“I know that man.”

“What man?”

“The man in the painting. Someone should tell him he’s in trouble on that water.”

The doctor took down some more notes.

“Adrianne, why don’t we try to talk some more about why you are here?”

She focused more on the painting, following the flow of the acrylic waters that sparkled with dots of white from the yellow-orange sun and the curious elk in the bushes who seemed to blink.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“You tried to hurt yourself.”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

“How do you remember it then?”

Adrianne stared past the doctor and studied the two big filing cabinets that stood guard by the door, holding the secrets of many deranged minds. Adrianne wondered if the stories they held were real or as imagined as everything else around her.

“Adrianne, how do you remember it?”

Adrianne looked Dr. Tomas in the eyes. “I don’t remember it,” she lied, “but I know that I didn’t hurt myself.”

The doctor wrote something down on his clipboard.

“You said before that ‘War is coming.’ What did you mean by that?”