Elysium (3 page)

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

I cringed at the voice behind me. Surely that was Satan I was hearing and not Anne, although they might as well have been the same person.

“Did you find a new friend, Heath baby?”

I had to give him credit. He could actually look at her without turning to stone. Heath stayed quiet, but I didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed slightly.

The last thing I wanted to do was bring Anne’s wrath down on Heath because I was the one who initiated the conversation. “I just wanted to say thanks.”  I didn’t wait around to hear a reply.

Sliding into an empty seat across the way, I ate my food in silence and kept my head downcast. Although, it seemed I was a glutton for pain because I found it hard not to glance up at Heath and Anne. Of course she was staring at me, and I didn’t miss how Anne kept giving me the evil eye. I was used to Anne’s bitchiness, but never had I crossed territories and ventured into her possessive girlfriend side.

After lunch I headed to the music room, having about twenty minutes left before calculus class started. Stopping by the door, I glanced around quickly to make sure no one was around. The last thing I needed was someone to catch me sneaking in here and accuse me of stealing or defacing school property.

I pushed the music door open and stuck my head in. All the lights were off except for a dim light illuminating the front podium. Brass and silver instruments hung from racks on the wall, small lockers lined up beside them. I stepped in and made my way towards the door, off to the side. I moved around the blue, plastic chairs lined up perfectly, pushed the side door open, and took a deep breath. The room was completely black, and I had to blindly feel the wall for the light switch. When my fingers ran over the little raised knob, I flicked it up, and the fluorescent lighting above me started to flicker before finally staying on. In front of me was a cluttered, small storage space.

I stepped inside and shut the door behind me softly. Setting my backpack on the ground, I made my way past the boxes full of dissected instrument parts. I saw it in the far corner, a small dusty
Francis Bacon
piano. It was a little sore on the eyes, the green paint chipped, chunks of the wood missing from the side. It was an antique though, made in 1879. I doubted the school actually knew what a prize they had stuffed away in here.

I brushed off the seat and gingerly sat down. I loved the way I sank into the worn padding and leather. Running my fingers over the off-white and battered keys, I felt every cell in my body come alive with excitement. I never actually played it, not wanting anyone to know I came back here. This place was my little retreat, hidden from the world where I could just be me. I closed my eyes and imagined the music coming from the piano. My fingers moved over the keys, not quite touching, just skimming the surface, letting the imaginary song filter through the room.

****

The rest of the day flew by, and I was thankful when I finally got home. I had avoided Marie and the kids and headed straight to my room. My head pounded something fierce, and I couldn’t even stand the light from the setting sun. I heard a soft knock on my door and knew it was Marie before she said anything.

“Meadow? Are you okay, sweetie?”

“Fine, Marie.”

“Can I come in?”

I breathed out deeply, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but not wanting to be bothered.

She didn’t open the door until I said okay, and then she quietly came into my room. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Nothing, I just have a bad headache.” I pulled myself up on the bed and squinted at Marie. She stood by the door, looking at me with concern.

“Still having the headaches? I think we should go see the doctor.”

I scrubbed my hand over my face, not wanting to have this conversation again. I had told Marie about my migraines a year ago, but they had tapered off. Now that they had come back, I never talked about them. I really didn’t want to worry her. For the past year the pain had been getting worse, and up until recently I had been able to hide them from Marie. It wasn’t that I disliked doctors, but I didn’t want to be poked and prodded, like some kind of experiment.

“It’s really not a big deal, but if it makes you feel better I’ll go.” I wasn’t going to add the last part, but as I saw the concern etched deep in her face, I felt bad and wanted to make her feel better.

“I’ll call right now and see when they can get you in. Why don’t you lie down and rest for awhile? I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

I nodded and watched her leave, the idea of dinner making my stomach turn inside out. I lay down and closed my eyes, thankful I drifted off to sleep quickly.

I sat in a chair in a darkened room. I looked around, knowing it was a dream because of the fuzzy edges around the room. A light shined above me, the only lighting. I went to stand and realized my legs and arms were strapped to the chair. I struggled at first, but stopped as soon as I heard the voice. It was all around me, a deep and dark voice that I felt all the way down into my bones. He spoke anther language, like nothing I had heard before. Fingers brushed against my cheek, yet I couldn’t see anything.

Suddenly a hand ran along my hair, moving the strands off my shoulder and causing me to shiver. My body started to shake uncontrollably, fear taking a strong hold. Even though I knew this was a dream, there was something inside of me saying what I was experiencing was very dangerous.

I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I tried to move, but the restraints held me immobile. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping I would wake up soon. The deep voice whispered all around me, the repetitive words sounding like a chant. I opened my eyes again, my mouth dropping open in a silent scream.

A man’s face appeared, with eyes as red as blood and a smile that couldn’t be called anything but sinister. His features were grotesque, warped with peeling skin and rotting flesh. I didn’t think you could smell in a dream, but the odor that permeated him nauseated me. I turned my head, trying to escape him, but it didn’t matter. His face was always right in front of me. He laughed, a loud and piercing cackle, making my body break out in a sweat and my heart beat in overdrive.

“Leave me alone. Leave me alone.” I screamed and screamed at him, wanting nothing more than to escape this nightmare. He laughed harder, running a brown and dirty fingernail across my cheek.

“I’ll come for you soon, Meadow.”

****

I shot up in bed, breathing hard and feeling sweat slide down my forehead. Marie sat next to me, her arms on my shoulders as she gently shook me and called my name. I ran my hands across my face and breathed deeply.

“Are you okay? I heard you yelling all the way in the kitchen.”

I looked around the room, realizing I wasn’t in that awful dream anymore. I was safe in my own bed. “It was just a bad dream—a horrible dream.”

“Do you want something to drink? Look at you, you’re pouring with sweat.”

I ran my hand over my forehead, feeling the dampness coat my fingers.

“I made an appointment with the doctor tomorrow. I’ll pick you up from school after lunch, okay?”

I nodded and got off the bed. I didn’t say anything, as I walked out of the room and into the bathroom, where I splashed water over my face. It felt good, the cold waking me up further. I looked at my face in the mirror, the dark circles more prominent than ever. Maybe it was a good idea to see the doctor?

“Are you hungry? I made lasagna.”

Even the idea of lasagna made my stomach turn, but I knew it would probably be a good idea to eat something. I looked at Marie standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. She walked over to me and handed me a glass of ice water. I was suddenly so parched that I drank it in two gulps. I could still see how worried she was, and I wanted to make her feel better, to let her know I was okay. “I’m fine, really. It was just a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head and walked past her into the kitchen. I set my empty glass in the sink and stared out the window. The kids were playing in the backyard, their laughter innocent, yet reminding me of the cackle my nightmare man made. How I wish I could be like Cecile, Toby, and Mack—just be carefree and let all my troubles disappear.

I turned around and looked at Marie. She still held that worried expression. I so didn’t want to even talk about the dream. It was bad enough I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I was glad when she didn’t push the subject. This was one of the things I loved most about Marie
; she didn’t push things—she just let them go.

****

I sat in the waiting room of the doctor’s office the next day, dreading every moment of it. The lady next to me sniffled continuously, and it got to the point where I had to actually move to another seat. That would be my luck, coming to the doctors and getting sick in the waiting room.

“Meadow
Caldwell?” a nurse called from the open doorway.

Marie and I followed the nurse into the hallway where she pointed to the scale without even looking at me.

“Please take your shoes off and step on the scale.”

I did as she asked, and she promptly measured my height and jotted down her findings. We followed her to an empty room, where she pointed to the examination table and told me to have a seat. I thought I would be done with this nightmare, or with her at least, but I saw her get the thermometer and blood pressure cuff out. I looked at Marie, who in turn smiled and patted my knee. The nurse finished poking and prodding me and announced that the doctor would be in shortly.

“I hate this, Marie,” I said after the nurse slipped out the door

“I know, sweetie, but it’s for the best. I am sure everything will be okay, but let’s just make sure, all right?”

I leaned back and stared at the posters that hung on the wall. One of them was a picture of a kitten with its hair standing on end, the caption below reading ‘
Don’t get stressed’
.

Marie sat next to me; the sound of her flipping the pages of an outdated magazine racked my nerves. That was another thing I had started noticing.
The littlest things would drive me crazy. A knock sounded on the door, and I sat up straighter. An older man in his fifties walked in, with a chart in his hands and wearing what I could only describe as a Bill Cosby sweater. He looked up, adjusting his tortoiseshell glasses, and smiled at us.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” He shook our hands and sat in a chair. “So, what seems to be the problem?”

I wanted to ask him if he read my chart, but I knew he just wanted to hear the problem from me.  I was feeling so bitchy lately. I cleared my throat and shot a look over at Marie. “I have been having headaches.”

“Can you describe them? Where are they located? Are they stabbing, piercing, or throbbing?”

I wanted to point out that all of those descriptions sounded the same to me, but I kept my mouth shut. “I guess they start out as a dull ache and then, throughout the day, become stabbing. It’s my whole head that hurts, not just one spot.”

“Do you have any other symptoms?”

“Well, usually I have an upset stomach, and not much of an appetite, but more times than not, it’s just my head.”

He made a few notes in my chart, and I tried to see what they were.

“I see you’ve lost some weight since the last time I saw you … not good. I’m going to do a neurological test, okay?”

I nodded, following his instructions to keep my eyes on his finger as he moved it around, flex my toes, push the digits against his hands, and a bunch of other things that seemed silly to me. He took an instrument off the wall and looked in my eyes, ears, and mouth, and then he listened to my chest. He sat back down and made some more notes, and I looked at Marie who shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, everything seems good. I don’t see any problems neurologically causing any alarm. I would like to schedule an MRI though, just to make sure there isn’t something I’m missing. Would you be able to do that today?”

He looked at me, and then Marie, who nodded. The two of them spoke for a little bit, but I didn’t pay attention to what they talked about.

“Okay, the receptionist will get you scheduled and let you know where to go.”

He shook my hand and then Marie’s, made a few more notes on the chart and left the room.

“Do we really have to get this thing done?”

“Yes, Meadow, we do. The doctor thinks it would be a good idea, and I agree.”

We walked out to the receptionist, who must have typed on her keyboard for five minutes before she looked up at us. Before we could even say anything the doctor talked to her.

“Please schedule an MRI appointment for Meadow Caldwell right away.”

She did her thing on the computer and handed us off a printout.

“Radiology is in the next building.
Hand them this order, and you should be all set.”

Marie thanked the receptionist and led the way as we left the office. I had never gotten an MRI before, but I knew it wouldn’t be the highlight of my day.

****

I stood behind Marie and the kids as she unlocked the front door. The kids were restless, whining about being hungry and why we couldn’t have gone through the drive-thru.