He shrugs. “You just told me.”
Savara says, “You’re going to have to talk in group. They make us all talk. If you don’t talk, you don’t leave.”
45
After dinner, parents arrive to see mostly the little kids. Savara doesn’t get a visitor and neither does the black girl, whose name is Starling. Malik’s grandmother comes to visit but green-eyed fierce boy doesn’t get a visitor either. He goes to his room, and since doors have to stay open at all times, you can see him lying on his bed from the lounge area, where you sit with Starling and Savara. The lounge area isn’t very “loungey” because the chairs are more like Lego blocks lined up in rows, bright yellow and red and blue. They’re also bolted to the floor. There are a couple of throw pillows to try to give it a homey feel, but this place feels nothing like home.
There is an episode of Full House on TV and you wonder how none of those girls ended up in the Crazy House, living there with that nut job Uncle Joey with his cut-it-out shtick and the OCD dad who was always cleaning the house.
Savara and Starling tell you about the routine of the days: how you have breakfast, then there is therapy, then lunch, and some outdoor time, quiet time, and more therapy … It sounds pretty bleak to you. You see that the boy with the green eyes has shifted his position and has now moved to the end of his bed. He’s on his stomach, his head resting on his hands, and he’s staring at you.
You nudge Savara. “Why’s he doing that?”
“Oh, Chad? He’s just weird,” she says. “He tries to intimidate all the new kids. Especially the girls who are cute.”
“What’s his deal?”
“His dad beat him up pretty bad. His mom was an alcoholic.”
“Was?”
Starling and Savara exchange looks. “His dad killed his mom,” Savara says.
Your eyes go large. You turn your head to Chad’s room and look at him. He’s staring at you still, but this time you hold his gaze. This time you don’t see him as intimidating or fierce. This time you see Chad as a boy with his own monsters.
*
Damian comes by after all the parents leave. You’re still watching TV with Savara. Starling has gone to her room.
“How are you doing?” he asks. “She teaching you everything you need to know?” He nods in Savara’s direction.
“We’re busting out at midnight.” Savara smiles.
“Watch it,” Damian says, laughing.
“I’m fine,” you say.
“I came by to tell you that you can make a call now,” he says.
A smile spreads across your face. “Really?”
“Sure. There’s a line, but you can wait your turn.”
You’re dying to talk to Ben. He has no idea what’s going on. This day has gone on forever. And you want this nightmare to be over with. At least, you think, you’re almost through with Day One in the Crazy House.
You also want to call Shayna because she needs to know what’s going on and you’re not sure that your mom would have called her. You’re positive you don’t need to be here—you’re not suicidal, so the people here are not going to help you. Shayna’s going to help you. You need her. You need the therapy at Healthy Foundations. You don’t need the Crazy House.
But first … first you need to talk to Ben.
You get up from the Lego chair and wave bye to Savara. As soon as you stand up to leave, Chad readjusts his position on his bed so he’s no longer looking out into the lounge area.
Damian takes you to the phones and there is a line of kids waiting for the two available phones. You’re praying these kids hurry up because it’s already seven-thirty. A little girl who is about seven is on the phone begging to go home. “I don’t like it here, Mommy,” she cries. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand. Finally, a nurse takes the phone from her and tells her mom that yes, her child is fine, and she can come tomorrow at visiting hours.
Three more children make calls and then a teenager who you haven’t seen before gets on a call. Two kids get tired of waiting and leave the line. Then it’s your turn. You pick up the phone and you’re sweating and shaking and praying. You dial Ben’s number, and then you hear his beautiful voice. Like magic.
But it’s his voice mail.
“Hey, it’s Ben, leave a message and if you’re lucky, I’ll call you back.”
Your voice cracks as you try to form words but all that comes out is: “Ben.”
You can’t think clearly and you want to get the words right, but you’re not sure what to say, what to tell him. So you tell him only what you’re sure of. “Ben, it’s me. My parents had me admitted to St. Joe’s. I can only call you between seven and eight. Can you call my mom? She’ll tell you more. They sent me away. And I’m so scared.”
You rattle off your house phone number and tell him you miss him so much. Then you hang up the phone and start to cry.
46
The next morning you wake and for a split second you don’t remember where you are or what happened. Then the realization hits when you see Savara sleeping in her bed. You have no idea what time it is, but you hear some activity in the lounge area so you slip out of bed. Since you don’t have any clothes other than the ones you arrived in, Damian gave you a hospital gown to sleep in, which leaves your back bare. You grab the blanket from your bed and wrap yourself in it for coverage and warmth and go out to the Lego chairs.
Chad is reading a book.
“Hi,” you say.
He nods in your direction but continues to read.
You sit on a yellow Lego chair. He’s sitting on a blue one.
“What do we do today?” you ask, even though the girls clued you in last night.
Without taking his eyes away from his book, he says, “Food, talk, food, minimal sunshine, lots more talk. If you have a book”—he lifts up his book—“you get to read.”
“How long have you been here?” you ask.
“About eight days.”
“Oh.”
He continues to read and you watch him. You can smell food from the kitchen, but it doesn’t mean anything to you.
Since you can’t think of anything to talk about, you ask, “When are you getting out?”
“Dunno.”
“I can tell you’re not mean.”
He nods. Then he says, “I’m not really here to make friends.”
“Shit. I don’t even want to be here,” you say.
“Agreed.”
“What are you reading?”
“Catcher.”
“In the Rye?”
“Is there any other Catcher?”
“I hated that book.”
“Me too.”
“Why are you reading it then?”
“Today’s literary options were Harry Potter or Catcher, and I hate Harry more than Holden.”
“Me too.”
He lowers the book and slips his eyes above the top and you see the start of a grin form on his lips. You might have just won him over.
“So last night you said you ‘might’ have tried to kill yourself. What’s that mean anyway?” Chad asks.
“I think it was more I was trying to cope, you know? And now I guess my parents are worried that I might be suicidal.”
“Are you?” he asks.
“Am I what?”