JACK (13 page)

“He’s not angry all the time. Only when you come.” Jonas frowned and so did I. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

He nodded. “It’s okay, I understand.”

“No, no, it’s not okay. It’s just that…” I wiped the sweat off my brow. Jonas offered me his handkerchief and I declined. “He wants to see Sarah so bad.”

“I know.”

“It’s the only thing he wants.”

“Yeah, I know that too.”

“Why do you think he doesn’t understand that she’s gone?”

“I’m not sure he doesn’t understand, rather he doesn’t want to believe what’s real. He’s never dealt with Grandma Sarah’s death. She died before he came home and he couldn’t even come to her funeral. He never said goodbye. In his mind it never happened. She’s still alive and out there somewhere waiting for him. I think it’s why he made up his magical world where he is a powerful wizard who can protect the innocent and right wrongs.”

“Maybe he is in a way.”

Jonas chuckled.

“No, I’m serious.”

“He’s not a wizard.”

“I know that. But maybe he is someone who saves people. Protects them.”

“Not since the war. Not in a very long time.”

“He saved Noah.”

Jonas leaned back in the bench and regarded me with a sheltered expression. “How?”

“There’s this patient, Markus. One day he tried to hurt Noah and Grom pulled out his wand—straw—and pointed it at him. Markus stopped. He was brave. He got between Noah and Markus and he made this giant man stop all by pointing a straw at his nose.”

“He got lucky.”

“And that makes him all the more brave. He didn’t stand a chance. Not with just a straw. Markus could have killed him.”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

“And what about me?”

“What about you?”

My throat tightened and my hands felt clammy. I rubbed them on my knees. Sweat made the fabric cling to my skin. “He saved me.”

“How?”

I stared at the dead grass sticking up between my toes. “Frank, an orderly. He tried to hurt me.” I closed my eyes and I could still smell him. Sweat and lust. His touch forever burned into my skin. His voice, his aggression, now a thing of my nightmares.

“Jack?” Jonas touched my hand. “Are you okay?”

I nodded because I couldn’t talk. And I felt trapped because I’d lost control of my words. Was this how Noah felt, powerless against his emotions, and his fear?

“Do you need me to go get a nurse?”

I shook my head. I swallowed. I breathed. “Frank tried to hurt me. He tore my clothes. Grom walked in and saw him. Frank told him to leave and he did. Only he came back. He came back and he didn’t have to.”

“What happened?”

“Grom hit him with a bed pan. Over and over and over…” Till his face was a bloody pulp. Until he hadn’t looked like a man and more like a busted piece of fruit. “He saved me.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His knuckles touched my cheek. It bothered me that I liked it.

“I’m fine. If it wasn’t for Grom I wouldn’t be.”

Jonas watched me for a long time, like maybe he was trying to see a lie or maybe trying to understand who Grom really was. I don’t know if he found what he was looking for or not.

“Can I ask you something?”

I nodded.

“Why are you here?” His gaze burned hotter than the sun and I went back to staring at the ground. When it was no longer enough I stood up. Jonas caught my hand. “Please don’t go.”

“I have to. I promised Noah.”

“Will you walk with me again the next time I come visit Grandpa Grom?”

Would I? “Sure, I’d like that.” If only it had been a lie.

*** *** ***

I found Noah in his room. Perched on the bed he had his drawing book in his lap. His hand made angry, brutal slashes across the paper.

“Noah?”

He didn’t look at me. He kept drawing.

I came in without asking. I tried to look over his shoulder and he jerked his note pad away. He threw everything on the bed. On his feet Noah paced. His hands dug into his scalp. His breathing was heavy. He sounded like a raging bull.

“What’s wrong?”

His livid gaze met mine. He opened his mouth and nothing but a hissing noise came out. Noah continued to pace. He hit the side of his head with a fist, the other clenched and unclenched the front of his shirt.

“Noah, stop, you’re hurting yourself.” I grabbed his arm.

In front of me, his face became the feral expression I’d seen in the dining hall, pain filled and full of fear. But his eyes were different. That’s how I knew this had nothing to do with the madness of seeing fire. I waited for him to pull away but he didn’t. He just stared.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He didn’t need to say it. I could read his expressions. I’d understand him even when no one else could. And he did tell me. One action said it all. Noah kissed me.

It wasn’t tentative like the one he’d given me while we hid under the bed. It bruised my lips, and knocked our teeth together. As much as it hurt I didn’t pull away. His mouth opened and I could taste him. His tongue touched mine.

He pulled his mouth away, breathing hard, but we were still close enough that our cheeks touched and we shared breath after breath.

I felt dizzy and hot. Parts of me craved to be touched. Parts of me I’d denied. Pressed against me I could feel the parts of Noah that I envied. No longer an innocent presence between his legs.

“I don’t love him.”

Noah opened his eyes.

“I don’t love him, Noah, he’s just a friend. He asks me about Grom.”

He put my hand over his heart.

“Yeah. I know. I know.”

Noah moved to kiss me again and it pressed his groin against me. He glanced down. His cheeks turned red and he backed up. I watched the urge to run and the need to stay battle it out by the expression on his face.

I didn’t want him to run. No matter what. I pretended not to notice the change in his body. “Show me what you were drawing.”

He glanced at the bed. I went over and sat down. When I picked up his notebook I didn’t open it and held it out to him.

Noah inched his way over and sat down, leaving a space between us. I closed it.

“It’s okay.”

He covered up his lap with the drawing pad.

“Show me what you were drawing.”

Paper crinkled and pages of familiar faces flipped by. He stopped toward the end. The lines were heavy and yet smooth. I could see his anger in them and at the same time the gentleness that made him who he was. The naked figure stood in various poses; sitting, standing, arms up, arms out, walking as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

I recognized myself, even in those simple lines. My long neck, my funny ears, how my hair was just beginning to grow back. My shoulders, my back, hips, legs.

My feet.

But instead of the swell of breasts and an empty place between my legs, Noah had drawn me as a boy.

I didn’t realize I was touching the paper until the graphite smeared. I jerked my hand way. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Noah put my hand back on the sheet and guided my fingers over the lines. They blurred, but not enough to compromise the shape. Hand over hand, he led my fingertip over every inch of the outside line. His skin against my skin, our warmth shared. Together we traced the shape of my body, but not the parts that had been changed. And I knew why. Not because it was wrong, but because it just didn’t matter.

I stared at the drawings with no idea what to say. Noah had done what I couldn’t. He’d done what no one else could. He’d captured my real reflection. He’d made me who I felt like I was.

When he stopped his lips moved but I couldn’t hear him, so I leaned closer.

“I see you, Jack.”

Yeah, he did.

The mirror in Dr. Chance’s office had been replaced by a dressing blind. It looked innocent enough.

I knew better.

“Jacqueline, come sit down, I’d like to try something new today.”

There was a new hole in the arm of the chair. It had been doctored with a strip of duct tape.

Dr. Chance picked up a crisp paper bag off the floor near his feet and handed it to me.

“What’s this for?”

“Look inside.”

I pulled out a bra. There was a pair of panties still in the bottom. I put it back in the bag and tried to hand it back. “Thank you, but I don’t want them.”

“They’re yours.”

“I don’t want them.”

“I want you to put them on.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not wearing things like that. I
won’t
wear things like that.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

I stopped. I was not going to keep playing this game with him. I pushed the bag off my lap and to the floor.

Dr. Chance said nothing while he wrote in his book. When he was done he closed it. “You can leave.”

I started to run for the door, but he never let me leave early. All sessions were a minimum of fifteen minutes and sometimes thirty. Even if all I did was stare out the window.

“We’re done?”

“We’re done. You can go back to your room.” Dr. Chance didn’t really sound angry, as he did emotionless.

I sat back down in the chair. “We’re not going to talk?”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Jack. You can return to your room.”

He hadn’t called me Jack in weeks. I knew then something was wrong. Bad wrong. I couldn’t move. I was too afraid to move.

He stopped reading the file in his hand and looked up at me. “Why are you still here?”

“Why are you sending me away?”

“You don’t want to wear the undergarments. You’re firm in your conviction. I can respect that. So until you are ready to wear them you will remain in your room.”

Remain. That meant the same thing as stayed. “All day?”

“All day every day.”

“What about meals?”

“They will be brought to you.”

“I can’t go into the garden?”

“The garden is a privilege. It’s something you have to earn. I told you when you first came here, if you did as you were told, you would earn privileges. You may choose to not do as I ask, but when you do, your privileges are taken away.”

“Can I at least go in the dayroom?”

“Staying in your room means just as it sounds.”

I stared at the bag on the floor wishing he’d just hit me instead. I picked it up. They were nice underclothes. Nothing cheap. The tag dangled off the end of the bra. I had a feeling Emma probably bought them.

What would it hurt to put them on?

Nothing. But I knew how it would make me feel. All the wrong parts, all the incorrect pieces on my body, would be emphasized.

I put the bag down and stood up. I’d made it to the door when I thought about Noah. He’d be all alone. What if it stormed? And Grom? Jonas was supposed to be here in a few days. I’d promised to talk with him.

“How long will I have to wear them?”

“A day.”

“Just a day?”

“Twenty-four hours.”

“No longer?”

“You have my word.”

I told myself it wouldn’t be so bad. It was only a day. A day to give Dr. Chance what he wanted and keep my freedom. A day to sacrifice and remain with Noah. One stupid day.

I had to do this.

His chair squeaked when he turned around. “But there is one requirement.”

I paused with my hand on the bag and a sinking feeling in my stomach. “What?”

“You will get rid of the bindings.”

“What?”

“I’ve known about them since you first made them. The laundry personnel alerted me to the torn sheet you turned in. I chose to ignore it and told the nurses and orderlies to do the same unless you tried to use the bindings to hurt yourself.”

“But you said I only had to wear the bra for a day.”

“I did.”

“Why can’t I keep my bindings?”

“Because you are using them to deny who you are. Who you are meant to be.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” He clicked his pen and slid it back into his shirt pocket. “Now hurry up and make your decisions, Jack. I have other patients to see.”

*** *** ***

I felt sick. I felt like I’d had my body stolen from me. I lay on my bed with my arms over my chest. As if it hadn’t of been bad enough to have the fabric pushed between my legs and hugging my groin. Now I had more cupping my breasts and shaping them into bumps. It all served to remind me of what I was trying so hard to forget.

The fragile peace I’d come to have with my physical body was gone. It was winning and my mind couldn’t stand the thought of losing.

I’d never hated my body before. I’d never been forced to.

I hated it now.

Noah sat down beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. We were supposed to go out into the garden. Noah was going to draw and I was going to watch. I’d been worried about losing my freedom if I didn’t put on the underwear and even though I’d complied, I’d lost it because now I didn’t want to leave my room. I didn’t want people to see me. I didn’t want to see myself.

I tightened my arms around my body, squeezing as hard as I could, flattening my chest, trying to make it normal again.

He laid his cheek close to my temple and I could feel his breath against my ear. Slow, calm, soothing.

“I don’t know what to do.” I shook my head.

Noah lay down in front of me. His palms were hot against the sides of my face.

“I feel like I’m disappearing.”

Noah’s gaze shifted down, then back up.

“Dr. Chance made me wear a bra. I didn’t want to. But he said if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to leave my room.”

Noah bit his lip.

“Twenty-four hours.”

He smiled.

“But after that I can’t have my bindings anymore. I have to wear the bra or nothing.”

Noah held me and the battle between my body and mind stilled.

“I want to cut everything off.” Saying the words frightened me, but knowing I meant them was terrifying.

Noah held me tighter.

“Cut it all off. Then no one can make me wear a bra.”

He put his lips closer to my ear. “You’re still Jack.”

“I feel ashamed.”

“Why?”

“Everyone will stare at me. Everyone will know and they’ll laugh. I hear them in my head, Noah. I hear Dr. Chance telling me what I feel is wrong, what I look like is right. I don’t want this body anymore. I want it gone. I want to be a boy. Why can’t I just be a boy? I could make it all go away before, but now I will have to look at myself. I don’t want to look at myself. I hate it!”