Gateway (The Gateway Trilogy, Book 1) (4 page)

I wasn't sure I wanted to discuss my sleep issues, but Callie saved me from needing to.

“Taren, I don't feel so well,” she said.

Lauren looked at me and mouthed,
every time.

“You're OK, Cal, I'm here.” Taren's reply was so soft I almost didn't hear it. Not for the first time, I wondered at their relationship.

Callie was panic stricken. “No, I have to get out of here. Get me out—”

“Please,” Lauren interrupted, “do as she says, get her out of here.”

“Shut up, shut up SHUT UP!” The voice that erupted from Callie seemed too big to be housed in such a small girl. She lurched up from the table and launched herself across it—straight at me.

I was taken by such surprise that I didn't have time to react. One instant I was sitting in a folding chair, the next I was knocked to the cold tile. Callie was stronger than her looks suggested; it was all I could do to fend her off. As blue as her eyes were, they seemed on fire.
 
Her hand arced up and I saw it—a plastic knife. My eyes widened. My last thought was going to be what the fu—
 

And then Taren was there, pulling her off me. Stunned as I was, I saw him try to pocket the knife, but orderlies had rushed over by then and confiscated it.
 

Taren no longer needed to restrain Callie, she was sobbing into his chest. The orderlies pried her off, though she clutched at him.
 

Her eyes bore into me as they dragged her away. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I swear I didn't want to. I'm so sorry…”
 

The entire dining hall was silent, though it wouldn't have needed to be to hear Callie's scream a moment later.

“What are they doing to her?” I asked, still trying to calm my racing heartbeat.

“Taking her to the elevator. They're going to move her upstairs.” Taren looked tortured, helpless.
 

I suppose I shouldn't have cared—she had just tried to stab me after all—but she was so small, even if freakishly strong. And the way she'd looked at me as she apologized… I believed her.

“Yeah, they'll let her chill out in solitary until Monday,” Lauren said.

“Monday? But that’s three days from now.” I couldn't imagine Callie locked up that long with people who were truly dangerous.

Lauren shrugged. “It's a mandatory twenty-four hours, and Shaw is off on weekends. She should have known today is the worst day to go off the rails.”

“Not everyone manipulates their every behavior so that it only serves them,” Taren said, his voice hard.
 

Before Lauren could answer, Taren tugged at my arm. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

He didn't wait for my reply, just pulled me a few feet away.

“Did she hurt you? Your head hit the tile pretty hard.” That explained the spinning, and the pain that was starting to seep through the cracks of my shock.

I reached up to touch the back of my head.

“Ow! Yeah, I guess she got me pretty good. What was that about, anyway?  What's her problem with me?”

Before he could answer, one of the nurses approached. “We'll get you checked out now, dear.”

“I was just going to get her some ice,” Taren said, his hand on the small of my back, steering me away from the nurse.

“Don't be silly, she could have a concussion. We need to take her to the E.R.”
 

I stifled a laugh. Well, I had wanted to get out of here. Maybe if my mother knew I was just as likely to lose my life inside the mental hospital as out, she'd spring me that much sooner. I let the nurse take my arm.

“Wait,” Taren leaned close, his breath in my ear. My pulse went back to racing. “Do you have any… birthmarks?”

His question was so bizarre I was heedless of the pain and snapped my head to face him.

“What?”

His eyes were only inches away, boring into mine. He grabbed my wrists and pushed up the sleeves of my hoodie, searching. I tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong.

“Do you?” he asked again.

“N-no,” I stammered.

Intensity didn't usually unnerve me, but at this moment, his definitely was.

“Taren, enough! What are you doing?” The nurse demanded.
 

Taren came back to himself. “Nothing, sorry.” He dropped my wrists. “Sorry, I hope you feel better.”

He turned abruptly and strode away.

***

By the time I got to the E.R., my head was throbbing. A welt had formed despite the ice pack I'd been given for the ride. The waiting room was mostly empty so I didn't have to wait long to be seen by a doctor. He ordered a CT scan, and the wait for that was considerably longer. With nothing to do or distract me, I was forced to process Callie's attack and Taren's strange behavior. I had no idea what to make of either. I'd been nothing but nice to Callie and why Taren was interested in a non-existent birthmark I couldn't fathom. I wondered if Lauren was right about Callie being seriously disturbed. If anything, it made me sympathize with her even more. If life with my mother had taught me anything, it was that just because someone was mentally ill, it didn't make them a bad person. Hard to deal with, yes, but not necessarily bad.

As it turned out, I didn’t have a concussion and after a few hours was back at Windsor. I found Lauren painting her toenails on her bed.

“Your mom is a trip,” she said, admiring her work.

“My mom was here?” I had been both surprised and relieved that she hadn't shown up to the E.R.

“
Is
here. She's talking with Dr. Shaw, I think.”

I groaned. This would either be really good or really bad. As if on cue, my mother burst into the room.

“Ember!” She rushed to me, pulling me into a tight hug. “Thank God you're alright.”

Her tone was an octave too high; she was either close to hysterics or just coming off of an episode.

“Hi, Mom.” I could hear her heartbeat race.

She let me out the embrace but held my face in her hands. “They didn't call me until an hour ago.” She glared over her shoulder at Dr. Shaw standing in the doorway, then turned back to me. “If I'd known I would have come right away to the E.R. You know that, right baby?”

“Of course, Mom. It's OK.”

“It is most certainly not OK, and I've let Dr. Shaw know it. Letting a dangerous criminal run around with knives, attacking people—”

“She's not a criminal, Mom, she just…” I struggled to explain what I still found baffling. “She was just confused or something…”

“Well, you don't need to worry, it won't happen again. Dr. Shaw has promised that there will be a set of eyes on you at all times until you're well enough to leave.”

Perfect
.

“
We'll take good care of her,” Dr. Shaw said.

Mom gave him a withering look and turned back to me. “You just concentrate on getting better. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you, so just do whatever they say and get better so you can come home. OK, honey?”

“Yeah, Mom. I'm feeling better already. I think if you took me home—”

She hugged me tightly again. “Good. That's good. Now they don't like you to have any visitors your first week here, but I've informed Dr. Shaw that given last night's incident I'll be dropping in quite often to make sure you're being taken care of.”

Her heartbeat had slowed a little—a good sign. “Thanks, Mom, that would be nice.” I tried to hide my disappointment that she wasn't taking me home immediately.

She let out a deep exhale and looked into my eyes. “I'm so glad… I thought you'd be mad.” She was starting to get choked up. My mind raced to stop her tears. “Mad that I had to put you here. I'm sorry, honey, I just didn't know what else to do. If you ever left me…”

No, not the sobbing. Not in front of Lauren and Dr. Shaw.

“Mom, don't be silly.” I tried to make my voice light. “Everything is fine. I'm fine, you're fine. I know I didn't leave you any choice. I'm not mad.” I held up her hand and inspected it. “Look at this, your nail polish is chipped. Why don't you go get a manicure?”

She looked at her hand as if seeing it for the first time. “It looks terrible, doesn't it?” She wiped away the tears that had been threatening to spill.

“You could never look terrible, Mom.” I gave her my most reassuring smile.

After that, she left without incident, other than fixing Dr. Shaw with another firm stare. Once they'd both gone, Lauren turned to me, her jaw on the floor. I waited for the onslaught of questions about my mother's mercurial behavior.

“Your mom looks
fantastic
,” she said. “What does she do to stay in shape?”

I couldn't help but laugh. Leave it Lauren to excuse her behavior simply because she looked good.

“Pilates. She's an instructor.”

“Pilates…” Lauren breathed, as if she'd found the Holy Grail.

I'd only eaten a bite of breakfast and it was well before lunch, so I paid a visit to the vending machine. I was contemplating my purchase—careful not to include peanut butter cups in my decision—when Taren approached.

An orderly observed from a distance. Dr. Shaw was making good on his word. So far I'd noticed nurses and orderlies passing my room at regular intervals, always making sure to peer in. Being watched set my teeth on edge.

I stepped back from the machine. “Go ahead, I haven't decided.”

Even with the whole morning to figure it out, I still had no idea why Taren had acted so strangely. We were in a mental institution, so I suppose that should have been explanation enough, but I wanted to believe he was completely sane. That however bizarre his behavior, there was a reasonable explanation.

“I'm not hungry,” he said in a low voice. He continued to stare at the vending machine, as though deciding what to get.

“Um, OK.”

“I need to talk to you,” he said.

“Does it involve checking my body for birthmarks?”

“No, I should have known better, you're too—never mind…” He took a breath. “I'm sorry I did that. I wasn't trying to scare you.”

I shrugged. “Would it surprise you to know I've seen weirder?”

His face twitched into a wry smile. “No, actually it wouldn't.”

“Was this what you wanted to talk about?” I asked.

“No,” he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Why was my pulse quickening? It was the intensity in his eyes again.

“I need you to come with me to see Callie.” He cast a glance toward the orderly that had just passed, making sure he hadn't heard.

I blinked. “Callie? Why?”

“She's having a really hard time upstairs. She feels terrible about what happened and wants to apologize.”

“Oh, well, tell her I forgive her. I mean, my head hurts, but I'm not going to hold a grudge. There's clearly something wrong with her.” Life with my mother would have been impossible if I hadn't learned to excuse the inexcusable.

He gave me a considering look. “That's big of you, and I know she'll appreciate it, but I think it has to come from you. If I can arrange it, will you come with me to see her?”

“If she's in solitary then how—”

“Let me take care of the how,” he said. “Will you do it?”

Say yes.

Once again I was taken aback by the Voice's apparent shift in focus from warning me away from a person or situation and urging me toward one. I was aware of Taren's eyes on me, waiting for an answer. My curiosity combined with my sympathy for a frail Callie alone in a rubber room made it an easy decision.

“Yeah, sure. If the powers that be say it's OK, then—”

“Great. I'll come get you when it's time.”

He jammed some coins into the machine and selected pretzels before walking away, leaving me to stare after him, this time.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Lauren had visitors and forgot I existed, while Taren spent most of the day playing cards with some of the younger kids. I found myself almost looking forward to Monday when I'd start class. At least there would be something that required my attention. As it was, I spent the day watching reruns of sitcoms. I hated sitcoms—all that phony laughter and tying things up within thirty minutes—but there seemed to be a hierarchy to who controlled the remote and I wasn't yet a part of it.

By the time dinner rolled around, my brain was mush. I stood in line by myself until Lauren muscled her way up to stand beside me.

“Thanks for saving me a spot,” she said. “I'm starving.”

She palmed her usual extra puddings and I wondered if the person in charge of inventory ever wondered why they were always off.

Taren's table was already full, much to Lauren's annoyance, so we settled on a spot in the corner. She prattled on about all of the gossip her friends had brought her about people I had never met and cared nothing about. I ate in relative silence, offering the occasional response only when required. I studied Taren out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying his meal, laughing and talking with a group of younger boys. There were plenty of people our age here, I wondered why he preferred the company of kids.