Tell Me, Pretty Maiden (28 page)

Anyway, the wagon had been summoned. There was no going back now. And I had Nelly Bly working with me. She had done braver and more risky things than this and had survived. She’d make sure I stayed safe.

At four o’clock there was a hammering on the front door. I was just finishing a slice of bread and jam and a cup of tea. I leaped up, my heart hammering as loudly as those knocks. So this was it. Doom was knocking. I heard Elizabeth go to the door and heard her say, “She’s in here. She’s quiet right now, and I think she’ll go with you if you agree with what she asks you.”

Two men came into the kitchen. I looked up at them and recognized one of them from the time I stole Jessie. But I managed to keep my face in a worried stare and went on eating bread and jam as they handed Elizabeth papers to be signed.

“Molly dear,” Elizabeth said, as she handed the papers back to them, “these nice men have come to take you on a little trip.”

“I’m not Molly. I keep telling you,” I said. “I am Princess Alexandra.” I turned to the men. “They took me from my castle in England, you know,” I said. “Have you come to take me home and restore me to my royal seat?”

“Yes, that’s right.” One of the men dug the other in the ribs.

“Say Your Royal Highness when you address me,” I said.

Another dig in the ribs. “Oh, of course, your royal highness.” He smirked. “Now, come along nice and easy. We’ve got to make our way to the boat that will take you back to your palace.”

“Make sure she doesn’t escape during the trip,” Elizabeth whispered to them. “She’s become an expert at running away.”

“Then we’d better put on the jacket, Fred,” one man said to the other.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Elizabeth said quickly. “If one of you sits beside her and you keep the doors shut.”

“Best to be safe,” the first man said. “Fred here lost a patient a couple of weeks ago and he got in one hell of a row about it.” He produced a white canvas jacket and came toward me. I whimpered in alarm and backed away.

“It’s your royal robes, your highness,” he said, and slipped my arms into it, lacing it up down the back. Then, to my horror, I found that there was no opening for my hands. The laces were pulled tight and suddenly my arms were wrapped around myself in a tight hug. I shot Elizabeth a frightened glance.

“You’ll be all right, Molly dear,” she said. “These men will take good care of you.” But I could see that she looked worried, too.

“Let me give you a kiss,” she said. As her face came close to mine she whispered, “It will only be for two days, and I’ll try and check on you all the time.”

The men put big hands on each of my shoulders and marched me out of my door and down the alley. Then they literally bundled me into the back of a wagon. I heard the doors close with grim finality, shutting out all light, as I sat on the hard bench. I was almost hurled to the floor as the wagon took off and had no way of steadying myself. I pressed myself into a corner and tried to stay upright. It wasn’t easy and when I slipped down to my knees, I stayed there on the floor, rather than risk another fall.

After what seemed to be an eternity the wagon came to a halt. I heard the sound of the door opening. “Come on, get out,” one of the men shouted, no longer gentle and kind. He grabbed at my arm and yanked me down to the ground, where I fell to my knees again. This time he grabbed my hair and made me stand up.

“You’re hurting me,” I protested.

“You’d better get used to it, sweetheart,” he said. “Now march. The boat’s at the end of the dock.”

This was no friendly little rowboat but bigger and enclosed. They half-carried, half-pushed me onto the deck and inside a nasty little cabin. Then they shut the doors again, leaving me in complete darkness as the boat chugged across the narrow stretch of water. I almost fell over as we bumped against another jetty. Then the door opened and this time there were warders in uniform, looking remarkably like prison guards.

“Come along then. Get moving,” one of them said. They grabbed me and marched me between them from the dock to that big front door. It opened. I was taken inside, and the door clanged shut behind me. I was an inmate in an insane asylum, whether I wanted it or not.

FORTY-ONE

Without having time to catch my breath, I was hustled down a long tiled hallway and another heavy iron door was opened with a key. I was shoved through into a holding area. It was dank and cold and the only small window had bars on it. There was a bench along one wall but I paced rather than sat. Time went by. Outside the light was fading. I began to worry that I’d be held in a solitary cell like this and never have a chance to talk to Jessie.

Then I heard the tramp of approaching feet and then a hatchet-faced woman in a nurse’s uniform and another man who looked like a prison guard came in.

“Name of Murphy,” the nurse said, looking up from a clipboard. “Committed by sister. Delusional and tries to run away.”

I decided I had better keep playing my part.

“This isn’t my royal palace,” I said in a haughty voice. “Guards, I command you to take me to my palace immediately.”

The man glanced at the nurse and chuckled. “Right away, your majesty. You’ll find a couple of Napoleons and Queen Victoria waiting for you, if I’m not mistaken.”

The nurse, however, did not smile. “Did she bring a bag?”

“Yeah. They have it.”

“I need my bag,” I said. “It has my crown in it. Make sure it is brought to me. And please remove this ridiculous garment. It is most uncomfortable.”

“The garment stays on until you’ve been evaluated,” the nurse said. “Is Dr. Arnold still in the building?”

“No, he’s gone,” the man said.

“Then take her to Female Four.”

“You should probably take the jacket off her if she’s going in there,” the man said. “She’ll need her hands to defend herself.”

“The inmates are not violent in Female Four,” the nurse said.

“She’ll still need her hands free,” the man said flatly.

“Very well,” the nurse said. “Upon your head be it if she claws someone’s eyes out during the night.”

He spun me around and untied my back. I sighed with relief as my arms dropped to my sides. He yanked my jacket off and I wiggled my fingers, enjoying the freedom of movement. “Right, come on then.” He pushed me forward, out of the door through which they had just entered. Another long hallway stretched out ahead of me. On either side were doors with small barred windows. As I passed one of these, a creature flung itself at the bars, snarling. I saw frightening bloodshot eyes and matted hair before I was propelled onward.

My heart was now beating very fast. Why had I ever thought that this was a good idea? I didn’t even really know for sure that Jessie was an inmate here—what if I was going through all this for nothing? Then I told myself that Nelly Bly had done it and survived and I was every bit as tough as she was. I held my head high like a princess and strutted ahead of my jailer.

At last he opened a door and pushed me inside. The first thing that hit me was the stench. The place smelled like a latrine, only worse. Was there no WC available?

“New one for you,” the guard barked. “Another one thinks she’s royalty.” He shoved me inside and slammed the door shut behind me. I heard a key turning in the lock. The room was dark. No lamps of any kind had been lit and the daylight, outside the two small windows, had almost faded. All I could make out where shapes, some sprawled on the floor, some huddled in corners. There were whimpers and then a burst of crazy laughter. I stood frozen in the doorway. A creature in a gray shift, with hair even wilder than my own, drifted over to me and touched my face. “Are you my own precious child?” it asked in a cracked voice. “My own precious child come back to me?”

“Leave her alone, Minnie,” a sharp voice said, and I saw a figure very different from the rest of them: a huge woman with a bosom like a vast shelf, several chins, and a spiteful piggy face. “So you’re another princess, are you? Well, let’s get one thing straight in here, your highness. You do what I say, all the time. You disobey me and you’ll be sorry—believe me, you’ll be sorry. When I tell you something, you say ‘yes, ma’am.’ Got it?”

I turned puzzled eyes on her. “Have I been abducted?” I asked. “Is this the enemy’s dungeon?”

The gargantuan woman laughed, a big chuckle that shook all the chins. “Oh yes, my dear, this is the enemy all right. Now go and sit down and behave yourself. Don’t talk to the other inmates unless they talk to you. You never know who’s feeling cranky today and some of them can pack quite a punch. If you’re lucky you’ll get food soon. Better eat quickly.”

“Can you tell me where I sleep?” I asked. “And what about my things? Where are my nightclothes?”

She laughed again. “Oh, you’re a rum one, you are. You’re going to keep me amused for days. You’ll be given your clothing in the morning at morning inspection.”

“But I must have my hairbrush,” I said. “Where is my servant to brush my hair?”

She tugged at my hair. “This don’t look like it’s seen a brush in a while. But it will get combed tomorrow morning, don’t you worry.”

There was a stone bench that ran along the wall. I went and sat on it. My eyes were getting used to the gloom now. I saw there were about twenty women in the room, of all ages and shapes. Some were muttering to themselves. One was hugging herself and rocking back and forth. Yet another was sucking her thumb. Poor pathetic wretches, I thought, until I realized that I was now one of them.

How could I possibly find out about Jessie? I was supposed to be delusional, so how could I ask sane questions without arousing suspicion? Were there other wards for females more violent than this, or more disturbed? Maybe I’d find out how the place worked in the morning.

At that moment there was a clanging sound in the hallway. The inmates rushed to line up at the door. Our wardress opened the door. “Make sure you stay in line and keep your hands to yourselves,” she barked. We marched down the hallway and into a large room. Long tables ran the length of the room, with benches on either side of them. Every one of these places was now being taken by women in identical grayish shifts. I followed the woman in front of me. At every place there was a bowl of what looked like a watery soup with bits of cabbage floating in it and a thick slice of bread. The women from my room scrambled to take their places and started wolfing the food into their mouths right away. I eased myself onto the bench and looked for a spoon but found none. The other women already had their bowls at their lips, draining the liquid, chomping away on any solid pieces they found. I put my bowl to my own lips. It was too hot to drink yet. Suddenly it was snatched away from me by a big flabby creature across the table.

“Hey,” I shouted, but it was too late. She had already tipped the contents down her throat.

“That’s not nice, Irma,” my wardress said, then she and the servers burst out laughing. “I told you to be quick, didn’t I?” she said.

“May I get some more?” I asked.

“One bowl per inmate. That’s the rules.” The servers were still laughing.

“That’s not fair,” I retorted, forgetting that I was supposed to be confused and deluded.

“You’ll learn soon enough,” someone said. “Better hang on to your bread or that will be gone, too.”

I tried to eat it. It was stale, thick, and smeared with such disgusting butter that I could hardly swallow it down. I looked up and down the rows. There seemed to be about three hundred women in the room. Some were eating like animals, making strange noises, but some sat primly and ate daintily. It seemed that not all were as insane as the occupants of my room.

Almost immediately a whistle sounded. The women got to their feet and were led out of the dining room. I scanned the other lines of inmates, looking for Jessie, but couldn’t see her. Then a scuffle broke out. One woman tried to run away. Immediately she was pounced upon by two nurses. Her arms were twisted up behind her back and she was forced to her knees.

“I’m not insane,” she shouted. “I’m as sane as any of you. My family has locked me away, that’s what they’ve done. Locked me away. Let me talk to a doctor. Please, let me talk to somebody.”

I felt quite sick as she was led away. My group was marched to a bathroom where we were instructed to wash our faces and hands and use the WCs. I was horrified to find that there were two rough towels for all of us, and that some of the women had nasty sores on their faces. I washed willingly enough in cold water and dried myself on my own sleeve. After that we were taken to a dormitory with a long row of iron beds in it. Another gray shift was laid out on each bed. We changed and lay down on the scratchy sheets. It was freezing cold. I lay shivering, curled into a ball. Dear God, what had I done?

I must have drifted off eventually because when I awoke, cold gray light was filtering in through those windows, both of which were open, letting in freezing air. A whistle had blown. Those inmates who didn’t respond immediately were yanked out of bed by a leg or an arm and there was much cursing and growling. We were marched to the bathroom again, had cold water splashed over us, then changed into our day clothes. I was given a garment identical to the rest of them. We were made to sit on the edge of our beds while our wardress combed out hair. She was so brutal with the comb that tears spouted by themselves from my eyes. She then pulled back my hair into a braid. “And don’t take it out,” she said.

Then off to breakfast. It was a bowl of lumpy oatmeal, three dried prunes, and a cup of very weak tea. This time I held onto my oatmeal. My flabby friend reached across and grabbed the prunes. She was welcome to them. The tea was just like drinking warm and slightly soapy water. The oatmeal was equally unappetizing.

After breakfast we were lined up for our morning walk. Once around the island in that bitter wind. The gardens were nicely landscaped and must have looked attractive in summer, but in midwinter there were only sad dead lawns and bare trees. We passed other groups of women, going in a counterclockwise direction. At one end of the island newer buildings had been built; these had bigger windows and no bars. The sign over the door said, RESEARCH INSTITUTE.

I was so busy staring at this new building that I almost missed her. Jessie was passing me in another column of women. She was stumbling along as if in a bad dream, her eyes staring blankly ahead of her. As we drew level she looked up and for a moment I thought I saw recognition in her eyes.

“Jessie,” I said.

She turned back to look as we were marched away. Had she remembered me? I wondered. And would she be glad to see me? Maybe she blamed me for delivering her to her tormentors. Maybe she’d want nothing to do with me.

When we came inside with stinging cheeks and numb fingers we were put to work at housekeeping tasks. Making beds, sweeping floors, washing floors. In the middle I was called over and taken to a small room where a young man sat at a table.

“I’m Dr. Field,” he said. “And what is your name?”

It suddenly occurred to me that maybe all those inmates who couldn’t or wouldn’t communicate were in one room. I stared at him blankly.

“You don’t want to talk today?”

I kept on staring.

“You’re not a princess today then? Who are you?”

I remained silent.

“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

No response.

“Interesting,” he said, scribbling something on a sheet of paper. “Complete withdrawal. Shutting herself off from a situation she doesn’t like. We’ll try again another day. Nurse, take her to Dr. Meyer’s ward. He might be interested in her.”

I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not. I allowed myself to be led away. Out of the main building, across a courtyard, and up some steps. Then into another dreary room, as cold and bleak as the first one. The sound of coughing greeted me.

“New?” a stone-faced nurse asked my escorts. “Violent?”

“Wouldn’t communicate this morning. Delusional yesterday. The doctor thought Dr. Meyer might want to take a look at her, when he gets back.”

“All right. Leave her here. Well, don’t just stand there,” she said to me. “Find a place and sit down.”

I wandered aimlessly around the room and found myself staring at Jessie. She was curled up in a corner, hugging her knees to her, her head buried in her hands. I sat beside her. She didn’t stir. At last an orderly came to the door. “Bring out Rodriguez. The doctors want to take a look at her,” he said.

As the nurse dragged a bewildered-looking woman up from the floor, I leaned closer to Jessie.

“Jessie?” I whispered. “It’s Molly. Remember me?”

I saw disbelieving eyes turning in my direction, a flash of recognition, then a warning sign in her eyes. I thought I saw her mouth “don’t know me,” before her head sank into her hands again.

I sat quietly beside her. Occasionally she glanced at me. I longed to talk to her and reassure her but the stone-faced woman’s eyes were constantly on us. After a long morning we were summoned to the dining room. Down the steps, across the courtyard, and into the dining hall. In the confusion I drew close behind her.

“I’ve come to save you,” I said in her ear. “I’ll get you out of here, I promise.”

I heard her intake of breath so I knew she had heard and understood me. Unfortunately, she was shunted away from me at table. Lunch was a piece of plain boiled fish and a potato. Again it was hard to swallow but at least nobody from this new room tried to grab my portion.

After lunch we were marched back. Some inmates dozed in the afternoon, curled up like animals on the benches or the floor. There was no form of entertainment provided for us, no reading material, no sewing. A person committed here really would go mad soon, I realized. I looked around the room, wondering how many women truly belonged in a place like this and how many were committed by families who wanted them out of the way. I saw how easily the staff had accepted the Sicilians’ word that they were Jessie’s relatives and how they had needed no proof that I was insane before I was carted away.

Jessie was either sleeping or pretending to. Suddenly the door was thrown open and two male orderlies came in. One was carrying a large can. “Louse patrol,” one shouted. “Line up. Come on. Move it.”

Our nurse went around prodding and pushing us into a line. I was a good way from Jessie. Each person had her scalp inspected. Those that failed were sent to the bathroom, where I suspect they would be doused with whatever was in the can. When the male orderly came to Jessie I watched in disbelief as his hands slid down from her head and one of them disappeared inside the front of her shift. She recoiled in horror and tried to pull his hand away. The orderly merely laughed and fondled her breasts more aggressively. He had a horrible piggy face and a mouth with missing teeth.