Sounds Like Crazy (24 page)

“Oh. Me? Well, I feel here. I mean to say, I am here. Okay, we know I am here. I mean, okay. I am okay.” I had so many mixed emotions running through me. She rolled her eyes. I looked at the Boy.

“Little Bean. I like to be called Little Bean,” he said. I felt a jolt at his new name. I shuddered and pushed it aside.“And I feel lonely,” he said softly, “desperately lonely.”

Me too,
I thought.
Me too.

I wanted to ask Sarge, Little Bean, as the Boy now liked to be called, and the Silent One if they knew where Ruffles was, but I didn’t want Betty Jane to hear. I decided I’d wait until she went to bed to ask and instead sat there and enjoyed their faces
until Milton announced that we had five minutes remaining in the hour.

“All right.” I said. Then to the Committee, “The apartment is kind of a mess, and, well, I’ve been smoking indoors. But only because I was afraid to catch the cat without you, Sarge.” The lines on his face deepened when I said this. “I know. I’m sorry. The smoke is bad for the Boy, I mean Little Bean . . .” Sarge’s eyebrows came together as he closed his eyes. My body went hollow. “Milton?” I said. “They get to come home with me, right?”

Milton shook his head and I felt like I’d been shoved hard. This must be how torture victims felt when they realized the nice gesture of seeing their loved ones was really just coercion to get them to do what was asked of them.

“Then I won’t leave,” I whispered as I clenched my fists.

“Holly—”

At that moment, everything on the other side of the door to Milton’s office seemed black and treacherous.“
No!
I won’t leave. I can’t. I won’t.You can’t make me.”

Sarge stood up slowly. His eyes were still closed. “Do your duty, soldier,” he said softly. My breath caught in my throat. The command was harsh when Sarge said it a second time. I wanted to ignore it, but then I noticed he had a torrent of tears running down his face. He opened his eyes and blinked. “Soldier?”

“HUA,” I whispered. He raised a hand in salute. Betty Jane watched the whole exchange with a bored expression.

Somehow I walked out of Milton’s office, but I don’t remember anything between the Committee disappearing when I closed the door and turning the key in the lock to the door of my apartment.

 

Milton called me the next day. I answered before the phone could ring a second time. He said he thought it was a good idea for us to speak in between sessions and proposed the daily noon call I’d
rejected before.This time I accepted.Then I asked him, “Where is Ruffles; where did she go?”

“Holly, can you please recount again what happened after the Emmy awards?”

I did. When I finished, Milton said, “Holly, is it possible that Ruffles believes that standing up to Betty Jane is what caused her to kidnap the Committee, and because of this she’s hiding?”

“That’s stupid,” I said. “I don’t care what she did. I’m not mad. I mean, Milton, come on, no shopping trip can fill the hole a three-hundred-pound friend leaves.” My attempt at being flip fell flat.

“I only want her back,” I said. “I miss her. I’m not mad.”

“Perhaps stating this is enough,” said Milton. “I have an idea. I’d like you to go along with me during our session on Tuesday.”

Once bitten, twice shy
obviously never made an impact on me. I agreed.Then I counted the hours until Tuesday.

 

On Tuesday, I made my resolution statement and the Committee appeared. No Ruffles.The disappointment rendered me speechless, and when Milton said, “And?” all I could do was shake my head no. Then he said, “Holly, it’s time we started talking about the past.”

What? Says who?
I shot eyeball daggers at Milton. He peered at me over the top of his square lenses. I knew this gesture was meant to remind me that I’d agreed to “go along” with him. Typical that what I agreed to ended up being one of Milton’s off-the-menu specials.

A couple of seconds passed; then Betty Jane said, “I agree. Let’s talk about the past.”

“Oh, really?” I snarled.“Well, if that’s how you feel, why don’t we start with how you made your way into my life?”

“Go right ahead,” she said. “I am sure you’ll get the story wrong.”

I hated her for being agreeable, and I hated Milton for doing this instead of working on getting Ruffles back.

“Holly?” said Milton.

“Oh, all right,” I said. “I have to start with my high school graduation, and Little Bean has to leave the room.” Sarge nodded and directed him into the waiting room.

 

The day after I graduated from high school I walked through the door at ten o’clock in the morning. I had never before stayed out all night. Doing so felt more like a rite of passage than receiving my diploma the day before had.

Sarah and my mother were in the living room drinking coffee. My mother sat on the couch in her bathrobe with unbrushed hair and a face that looked lined and tired. Sarah was next to her holding a coffee cup in one hand and some papers in another.

I opened my mouth to say good morning.

“Dad’s gone,” said Sarah.

“Gone where?” I said.

During the past several years, my father had spent most of his time traveling.We saw him only on the weekends.After Sarah left for university, I felt as if I were living alone. My mother insisted we eat together when my father was home or if Sarah was visiting. Otherwise, she had dinner in bed with her television set. I am not sure what she did during the day, and she never asked me what I did. I stayed in my part of the house and she stayed in hers. We were strangers sharing space.

“Your father left,” said my mother. Holding the dainty saucer in her left hand, she picked up the coffee cup, pinkie extended, with her right. “Moved out.” She sipped her coffee. “You drove him away.”

“Mom!” snapped Sarah.

“Oh, that’s right. She never does anything. Poor Holly. Poor Holly, the lazy, selfish liar, just like her father,” snarled my mother.

“You made me what I am,” I said. “Go look in the mirror if you want to find the person who’s responsible for how I turned out.”

“You are going to take me on now, Holly,” flared my mother. “Do you think your little blame game will work on me the way it did your father?” I didn’t need to answer her. My mother was a heartless woman, and because of this, I knew my so-called “little blame game” would not work with her, because it wasn’t a game. It was survival. My father had come this close to breaking me. If it hadn’t been for the Boy, he would have.

“Mom.” Sarah covered my mother’s hand with her own, trying to quiet her. “Maybe you should go get some rest.”

“I do not need rest,” said my mother. “Get dressed. We are going shopping.”

“Shopping?” said Sarah. “Don’t you think—”

“What? I have your father’s credit cards; we are going to use them.” My mother got up. “Be ready in two hours.That is final.” She carried her coffee cup into the kitchen.

All told, we spent almost five thousand dollars that day, half of it at the cosmetic counter in Bloomingdale’s. My mother had them do a full makeover on me while she and the saleswoman lectured me on the importance of beauty, skin care, lipstick, and so on. I escaped to the bathroom as soon as I could. When I faced the mirror, Ruffles told me I looked like a streetwalker. I unrolled the bathroom tissue and proceeded to wipe everything off.

After my mother went to bed, Sarah and I sat in darkness in my room. “Do you remember Linda?” she said. Of course I remembered Linda. And her tiny bikini. How could I forget her? I
slipped my scarred foot out from under the covers and held it up in the air. The curtains were open and the light from the street made my pale foot appear ghostly.“Dad was going to leave us for her.Then the accident—”

Everything went black and I found myself riding in Sarge’s Chevy. The Boy sat between us. Ruffles occupied the whole backseat. The rear bumper scraped the pavement, sending up sparks. She usually didn’t ride in the car because even the counterbalance of the Hemi engine Sarge had installed was not enough to offset her bulk.

A car careened toward us. Sarge swerved to avoid it.Then he jumped the Chevy off the road.We hit a wire fence. Sarge gunned the motor.The fence stretched until it snapped and we bounced along in a field. After a while Sarge eased up on the gas. Finally he stopped the car and rested his head on the steering wheel.The scene changed back to their living room in my head.The Silent One nodded at Sarge.

“Why do you use that weird voice?” Sarah sounded far away.

“Is it safe?” Sarge asked the Silent One. Safe from what? I wondered. My head nodded. I felt the pillow against my back again.

“Holly, who was that speaking to me?” said Sarah.

“Who spoke to you? What did they say?” I said.

“Holly, what’s going on?” said Sarah.

“I can’t tell you. I—” Sarge stood. The Silent One held out his arm as if to stop him. “I’m not supposed to tell you,” I said. We sat for a moment.The Silent One nodded.“Sarah, if I tell you a secret, do you promise not to tell anyone? Ever?”

“I promise.” I told Sarah about the Silent One, the Boy, Sarge, and Ruffles.They couldn’t stop me because the Silent One somehow held them at bay. When I finished she said, “I’ve suspected something like this for a long time.”

Even though Sarah was my sister, telling her my secret felt like standing naked in front of a crowd of thousands. Inside my head, everyone but the Silent One waited tensely for the aftershock to hit. After a few minutes, I said, “So finish telling me about Linda.”

“You still won’t talk about—”

“Tell me about Linda,” I said.

“Okay,” said Sarah. “Okay. Dad kept seeing her but he wouldn’t leave us.” She paused. Sarge stood, ready.“You know, all his trips?” continued Sarah.

My shoulders relaxed. Inside my head, everyone let out their breath.

“He broke it off with her after that car wreck. Mom convinced him it was the only way they could make it work. Remember when he stopped drinking?”

“Yeah, that lasted long,” I said.

“Well, I’m not denying he was an asshole, Holly. But relationships are complicated. Life is complicated.”

I sat back, surprised.Was? Something had definitely changed between Sarah and my father. Me? I didn’t believe in people changing.

“He told me even though you and he stopped speaking for the most part when you were fourteen, he still wanted to wait until you finished high school to leave. He wasn’t going to be the abandoning father. Mom got the divorce papers this morning. He’s moved to Florida with Linda. Transferred to another office.”

“How did I not know about Linda?”

“You were always off somewhere.” Sarah motioned to my head.

“Now you know where,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said, “now I know where.”

The next day Sarah gave me a copy of the book
Sybil
. But it didn’t resonate with me. I didn’t remember losing time, and my history seemed intact. But, for the first time, I wondered if there was something wrong with me. I wanted to be normal like everyone else.

Sarah stayed with us for the summer and tried to maintain order while my mother and I went on our respective sprees. My mother did her best to bankrupt my father, while I threw myself into what I thought was normal for an eighteen-year-old—partying.

A few weeks after my father left, I found myself at the first of many summer gatherings. Eddie, the guy I’d had a crush on since I was fourteen, was there without his arm charm, supermodelwannabe girlfriend. I sat next to him on the couch listening to him as he told the guys in the room that his girlfriend had gone to Europe for the summer. I drank beer after beer while Sarge, Ruffles, and the Silent One watched disapprovingly.Then someone lit a joint and started passing it around. Eddie handed it to me.

“Holly,” barked Sarge.

I felt a wall come down between me and those in my head. I inhaled deeply on the joint. After a few passes, Ruffles, Sarge, the Silent One, and the Boy floated above the living room in my head and I floated somewhere between them and Eddie.

I opened my eyes and moved closer to him. My body ached for him. I pushed myself up from the couch and stood there swaying a little. I closed my eyes. Sarge reclined, eyes closed, nodding his head to whatever was coming through on his headphones. Ruffles marveled at the shape and size of each chip she held before she shoveled it into her mouth.The Silent One hovered in the air. His prayer altar had turned into a multicolored flying carpet. I moved my body as if dancing.The living room in my head swayed.

“Check out Holly,” Eddie’s friend said. I smiled, my eyes still shut.

“Everyone get out,” I whispered. None of them moved. I let myself drift backward. “Everyone, out!” I yelled it this time.

The Silent One dropped to the floor. Sarge removed his headphones.

“Out,” I yelled again.

The Silent One’s face shifted with realization. He nodded to Sarge, who didn’t argue. “Take her too,” I said, pointing to Ruffles. “And the Boy.”They disappeared.The house was empty.

“Guy says if you wanted to be alone, all you had to do is ask,” said one of Eddie’s friends.

I opened my eyes. Eddie had a bemused look on his face. I heard the door shut. Eddie got up and locked it.Then he walked over and stood in front of me. I couldn’t breathe. Eddie kissed me slowly as he pushed me to the couch. I took off my shirt and reached behind my back to unhook my bra.

“Whoa, slow down, Holly.”

I froze, my hands still on the clasp of my bra. He pulled my arms down and reached around to unhook my bra himself. I unbuckled his jeans. He laughed and threw up his hands.Within a few minutes our pants were off and he was inside me. I felt like someone had cut me in half. When it was over, I pulled on my clothes and went home.

 

The rest of the summer I smoked pot, drank too much, and had sex in the backseat of Eddie’s car.The house inside my head was filthy. Clothes and dirty dishes were everywhere. My mother was thrilled I had a boyfriend. Every morning over coffee I regaled her with made-up stories about our fabulous dates. I was finally in her club.