For a moment, he remembered when he first had worked with her, and she smiled, handing him a sheet of paper that said, I like to be Bea or Momma.
But today, she was flanked by two nurses, one taking her vitals and the other was a permanent fixture at her side. Her stare was vacant. He said, "It's a nice day. Already January." She did not respond, move or make eye contact. "Bea?" he repeated. Leaning over, he used his penlight in her eyes. She did not interact or connect with him on any level. He said, "Nurse, has she shown any signs of anything different?"
"No. She's been like this since Christmas. At the Christmas party, you remember, Dr. Martino?"
Even though it made him question his professionalism, Ray had been hoping to forget.
***
Tina had spent the morning assisting Helen in setting up, serving and cleaning up the breakfast dishes. She was tired, and slumped against the window, where her cot was. She opened her bag, and took out the tattered list she had made, weeks back and examined it. What have you been doing, aside from playing house with Anthony here? She thought about him, tall, strong and handsome. Them, late at night, just two evenings ago, after dark, in the park. Then, back in the supply room, he had grabbed her and kissed her, and before she knew it, she was swept away against the towering bags of rice, and he was making love to her. Uncle Ben's. Hmf. What about the plan? What have I gotten done?
A) Find a way to get to La Boulaie
B) Credit card? Trade with someone?
C) Timothy. Maybe he's nice enough to help a girl out.
D) Helen?
E) What about Anthony? Can he help?
How to get there:
Car or Taxi. Maybe. No credit cards.
Bus.
Hitchhike.
Great, Tina. Absolutely nothing. Well....I did think about Anthony. But that's not the kind of help I meant. She picked up her pencil, and added:
Timothy goes to La Boulaie every week. GET ON THIS.
That's it. What day was that? I can't remember, but Tina, figure this out. Anthony's sweet...she dazed off a moment, but you have to get yourself in gear, girl!
***
Dr. Ray Martino put his hand lightly on Bitsy's shoulder, and then looked away. Finding the window in her room with his eyes, he stood, staring out.
He reflected on his short tenure of work with Bitsy, over the first few days at Mountainview. He'd found success and a great deal of hope and promise for her confidence in him. She had been writing notes back and forth with him, and the communication between them was improving.
Just the day before Christmas Eve, she had written him a lengthy letter about the horrors and abuse that she and young Todd had suffered at Christmases past. This, both fortunately and unfortunately, gave him a window into their entire life experience, and with that insight, he planned to make the new year a beneficial one for both Todd and his mother as he helped her heal.
There was still a white covering on the grounds at Mountainview, and in the pristine landscape, he thought back to Christmas Eve and what had events lead to where they were this day:
"Everyone, gather round," the Recreation Director Mayline Sanchez said. All of the patients were celebrating Christmas Eve in the dining area, and some of the staff, Ray included, had stayed an hour late to participate before heading home.
The Christmas Eve gathering had gotten off to a good start. Bitsy, dressed in a new red dress that Todd had sent for her, with a lace overjacket and red pumps, looked stunning. She had made beautiful drawings of Christmas scenes and had presented them to the staff. This of course was not Ray's idea, it was hers. She wanted to thank them. And, she had made him deliver a handwritten letter to Todd as well.
The gifts that were donated from area churches and civic groups were around the base of the white Christmas Tree. There were several specifically set aside for Bea, and Todd had sent them. He also had sent a veritable truckload of them for the other residents. Ray had never liked the white Christmas trees, but that was what they had. He would have to mention this to Todd, who would surely see to it that a better set of Christmas decorations was purchased for Mountainview. All stood around, and singing commenced, and Ray felt rather misty seeing Bitsy look around when it began and just move her lips, though soundless, to join in.
A visit from Santa had been planned, but no one could have foreseen what happened next. As Santa made his way into the dining hall, he had with him the Mountainview therapeutic Great Dane, Archie, dressed as Rudolph. Archie was on a long chain link leash, strung with tiny jingle bells ribbons. The staff and residents were all excited and humored to see Archie in costume. The chain, hitting against the floor, clanged with a mechanical, metallic sound. Ray, seeing Bitsy's expression, realized all too late that it was reminiscent of Peter's abuse. Bitsy turned and opened her mouth to scream silently, and a raspy, low moan came forth from her instead.
He closed his eyes, attempting to block out the sight and sound of the memory. But it was there.
Bitsy raced passed Santa, headed for the windows, and fought the orderlies. The commotion of various mental patients and staff, the barking of the dog, and the clamors of the vastly different ways of coping surrounded them. Bitsy somehow slipped past the staff, and reached the large panes. Ray stood there, fearing that her goal was to smash through the glass and go over onto the pavement below. He himself scrambled, jumping a table, to get to her. She climbed up a chair, and put her hands against the glass. But instead of violently banging it until it smashed through, she lightly pressed her palms against the artificial snow spray they had used to decorate and began to etch something with her fingers.
He called to her, he pleaded with her, but she ignored him, scratching out something in the spray snow. The orderlies, believing it proper to put her into soft restraints before she injured herself, brought out the straps, which resembled thick belts with metal attachments, and jerked her off the chair.
Her eyes widened, and she put out both hands, in a defensive stance. Ray, remembering her letter just the day before, yelled out "No! Stop!"
In the volume of the chaos, no one heard who was saying it, never mind to whom, and they took her, forcing her into the restraint straps. She went completely limp in the arms of one particularly tall, thin ward assistant.
It wasn't until the room was cleared and Ray was alone in the dining facility, that he climbed up and read her writing in the spray snow: no chains.
He looked to her, in her chair, her eyes fixed on something no one else could see. She'd been that way since that night, and hadn't changed. He went in front of her chair to try and put his eyes in line with hers. He said, "Bea," in a kind, soft tone. "Bea, don't you want to help me help you?"
She stared right past him as if he were not there.
"Bea," he repeated. He'd put a pad and pen in her hands, every day since Christmas Eve, and today was no different. She slowly let them drop onto the floor.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Your comments are 'payment' for the work of the authors. Our writers like to hear your feedback. Please leave a comment when you read.
The Christmas Eve gathering had gotten off to a good start. Bitsy, dressed in a new red dress that Todd had sent for her, with a lace overjacket and red pumps, looked stunning. She had made beautiful drawings of Christmas scenes and had presented them to the staff. This of course was not Ray's idea, it was hers. She wanted to thank them. And, she had made him deliver a handwritten letter to Todd as well.
The gifts that were donated from area churches and civic groups were around the base of the white Christmas Tree. There were several specifically set aside for Bea, and Todd had sent them. He also had sent a veritable truckload of them for the other residents. Ray had never liked the white Christmas trees, but that was what they had. He would have to mention this to Todd, who would surely see to it that a better set of Christmas decorations was purchased for Mountainview. All stood around, and singing commenced, and Ray felt rather misty seeing Bitsy look around when it began and just move her lips, though soundless, to join in.
A visit from Santa had been planned, but no one could have foreseen what happened next. As Santa made his way into the dining hall, he had with him the Mountainview therapeutic Great Dane, Archie, dressed as Rudolph. Archie was on a long chain link leash, strung with tiny jingle bells ribbons. The staff and residents were all excited and humored to see Archie in costume. The chain, hitting against the floor, clanged with a mechanical, metallic sound. Ray, seeing Bitsy's expression, realized all too late that it was reminiscent of Peter's abuse. Bitsy turned and opened her mouth to scream silently, and a raspy, low moan came forth from her instead.
He closed his eyes, attempting to block out the sight and sound of the memory. But it was there.
Bitsy raced passed Santa, headed for the windows, and fought the orderlies. The commotion of various mental patients and staff, the barking of the dog, and the clamors of the vastly different ways of coping surrounded them. Bitsy somehow slipped past the staff, and reached the large panes. Ray stood there, fearing that her goal was to smash through the glass and go over onto the pavement below. He himself scrambled, jumping a table, to get to her. She climbed up a chair, and put her hands against the glass. But instead of violently banging it until it smashed through, she lightly pressed her palms against the artificial snow spray they had used to decorate and began to etch something with her fingers.
He called to her, he pleaded with her, but she ignored him, scratching out something in the spray snow. The orderlies, believing it proper to put her into soft restraints before she injured herself, brought out the straps, which resembled thick belts with metal attachments, and jerked her off the chair.
Her eyes widened, and she put out both hands, in a defensive stance. Ray, remembering her letter just the day before, yelled out "No! Stop!"
In the volume of the chaos, no one heard who was saying it, never mind to whom, and they took her, forcing her into the restraint straps. She went completely limp in the arms of one particularly tall, thin ward assistant.
It wasn't until the room was cleared and Ray was alone in the dining facility, that he climbed up and read her writing in the spray snow: no chains.
He looked to her, in her chair, her eyes fixed on something no one else could see. She'd been that way since that night, and hadn't changed. He went in front of her chair to try and put his eyes in line with hers. He said, "Bea," in a kind, soft tone. "Bea, don't you want to help me help you?"
She stared right past him as if he were not there.
"Bea," he repeated. He'd put a pad and pen in her hands, every day since Christmas Eve, and today was no different. She slowly let them drop onto the floor.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Your comments are 'payment' for the work of the authors. Our writers like to hear your feedback. Please leave a comment when you read.
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