“I don’t have time to beat around the bush so I’m going to cut to the chase. I need a new mattress. I’ve talked to them about it over and over and no one pays attention. If you would mention it, they’d listen.”
Isabel is filled with an odd feeling of warmth toward this strange woman who is so fixated on the injustice of having to sleep on an inferior mattress that she completely avoids any chance at self-examination.
“You know, Melanie—” Isabel tries not to smile “—I think this will all work itself out in the next twenty-four hours or so. In fact, I’m sure of it.”
Melanie’s eyes widen. Most everyone has ignored her mattress complaints. “What do you mean?” she asks as her eyes narrow into suspicion.
“I have an idea,” Isabel says as she leads Melanie out onto the smoker’s porch, as she had done with Regina. “If you sit with me while I have this cigarette, I’ll tell you my plan.”
Melanie cannot believe her luck. Here is somebody who not only cares enough about her sleeping situation to talk to her about it, she even has a plan! She leaves her suspicion behind and follows Isabel.
Isabel sucks fire out of the wall lighter and inhales smoke into her lungs.
“Here’s my idea,” she says, exhaling smoke to the side of Melanie. “What if I went to the nurses’ station tonight and told them that you could have my room starting tomorrow? You could even be all packed up and ready to move. I’ll tell them it’s a simple switch.”
“You would do that for me?” Melanie is incredulous.
“Sure. It’s no problem.” Isabel does not know why she does not tell Melanie that she is being discharged in the morning. She feels like being appreciated for what is perceived to be a selfless act of kindness.
“What’s in it for you?” Melanie’s eyes again convey her skepticism.
“What’s in it for me? Melanie. How cynical of you. Why does there have to be something in it for me? Can’t I just do something nice for a friend?”
Melanie begins chewing on the inside of her mouth while she considers the authenticity of Isabel’s offer.
“I don’t get it,” she says, her mouth twisted to the side as her teeth work on loose skin. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Let’s just say I like to leave kindness in my wake,” Isabel says, smiling.
“That makes no sense to me whatsoever, but I’ll take you up on your offer. You’ll really do it? You’ll talk to the nurses tonight?”
“Yes. I’ll talk to the nurses tonight.” Isabel knows Melanie will obsess over this until the morning but she does not care. She is not ready to tell everyone she is leaving. They will treat her differently once that knowledge is shared. It is too painful to watch others leave Three Breezes.
“It’s a deal.”
Isabel extends her hand for a shake, but Melanie scoffs and walks back to the unit sulkily.
“Hey, Isabel,” Ben calls out as he lumbers past her chair on the porch. He is scooping chocolate-swirl pudding from a cup that looks ridiculously small in his huge paw.
“Ben! Come sit with me.” Isabel signals to the empty chair opposite hers.
Ben looks surprised at Isabel’s hospitality. He eases himself into the plastic chair and scrapes the bottom of the pudding cup with his plastic spoon.
“What’s up?” he asks with his mouth full.
“I just wanted to talk with you,” Isabel says as she again exhales smoke. “We never get a chance to talk one-on-one, so I thought now is as good a time as any.”
Ben moves the last of the pudding around in his mouth and then hangs his head. “Aw, man! You’re leaving, aren’t you?” he directs his high-pitched whine to his lap.
“Why do you say that, Ben?” Isabel is stunned that he, of all people, has been perceptive enough to feel such a subtle shift in the atmosphere.
“I can tell. I can just tell. It’s true, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s true. I’m not going to lie to you. I’m leaving in the morning. I was going to tell everyone tonight in Larry’s group. God! I’m amazed you figured it out.”
“It’s not that difficult, Isabel,” Ben says with an adult tone of condescension. “You never call me over to sit with you. You always did that with Kristen. Then I saw you do it with Regina the other day. And with Lark, too. You’d sit with Lark. But you always shoo me away. You never wanted to sit with me alone before today, so I figure you must be leaving. Why else would you want to sit with me?”
Isabel is silent for a moment. “You’re a very perceptive guy, you know that? You’re a smart, perceptive guy. I’m really sorry I never sat with you alone before.”
Ben blushes at Isabel’s words.
“It’s okay,” he mumbles, unable to meet her eye. “I know I’m not smart, but I appreciate you saying that.”
The same rush of warmth Isabel had felt with Melanie doubles with Ben.
“Ben, I want you to know something.” Ben looks at Isabel, noting the change in her voice. “Please listen to me because it’s important. I want you to know that you are a good person. Your mother saying all that bad stuff about you—she was wrong to say all that stuff, Ben. She had problems of her own and she took them out on you and you were a kid and that was just plain wrong. I know Larry says we’re not supposed to pass judgment on other people’s problems but I can’t help it in this case. You are a good person with a mental illness that’s not your fault.”
Ben is staring at Isabel with his mouth hanging open. Puddles of saliva are gathering dangerously close to the rim of his mouth. He is transfixed.
“I know I should mind my own business and I know you have a lot of other things to work on, blah, blah, blah. But I want you to know that you’re a good guy. Don’t let anyone ever tell you different. Not your teacher, not your mother, no one. And it sounds like you’ve struggled with a learning disability, from the things you’ve mentioned in group. That’s not your fault, either. You are a good person. If you believe that, you can do anything.”
Ben sucks up the spittle as he closes his mouth and looks back down. Then he says softly, “Wellbutrin. Wellbutrin has saved my life, Isabel.”
Knowing Ben will need time to digest what she has said, Isabel moves to a lighter topic.
“Ben, it occurred to me that I need to write down the name of that barbecue place you mentioned, in case I ever get that way.” She knows this is the highest form of flattery.
A look of true elation spreads across his wide face.
“Aw, Isabel,” he sighs, “you gotta try this place. It’s called Bobby D’s and it is so good I can smell it now, as I sit here talking to you. I’m telling you I can smell it now. You know what they do? They marinate the ribs overnight in this special sauce…”
Isabel smiles, pulls out another cigarette and lets Ben talk her ear off about ribs.
Sixty-Nine
“Larry, can I tell the group something?” Isabel says, after clearing her throat at the end of what will be her last group session.
“Sure, Isabel,” Larry says, knowing what Isabel is going to announce. “You’ve got the floor.”
Isabel inhales deeply and exhales.
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Across the room Regina softly moans. Sukanya stares into space. No one speaks.
“I wanted to tell you all because I know firsthand how it feels when someone doesn’t say goodbye and leaves abruptly,” she says, thinking of Lark. “It’s unsettling. And this is unsettling for me, too—saying goodbye to you. But I’d rather do it this way than just disappear.”
Silence.
Melanie is shaking her head.
Larry finally breaks the uncomfortable silence. “Does anyone want to say anything?”
“I knew it!” Melanie shouts. “I knew there was something more to your little room switch plan,” she says in a mocking voice.
“What are you talking about, Melanie?” Larry looks baffled.
“Melanie…” Isabel tries to soothe her.
“D
on’t talk to me!” She will not be soothed. “For the rest of your time here, don’t talk to me!”
“But…” Isabel tries to interrupt Melanie’s melodramatic display.
“But, nothing,” she says. “Don’t talk to me.”
“Okay, all right,” Larry says, looking back and forth between Isabel and Melanie. “You two want to tell me what this is all about?”
“Isabel told me that I could switch rooms with her in the morning,” Melanie seethed. “I asked her point-blank why she would offer to do something like that for me and she said it was because we were friends. I knew there was another reason for it! I knew it! Now she’s leaving. Perfect. Just perfect.”
Melanie angrily folds her arms across her chest as if to say with body language, “that’s all I have to say about that.”
“Isabel?” Larry turns to her.
“Melanie, I’m sorry,” Isabel says. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.”
“Why didn’t you?” Melanie asks, tears starting to roll down her face.
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. I wasn’t ready to say out loud that I’m leaving, maybe. Or maybe I just wanted you to think I was a nice person. I don’t know. But I’m sorry, Melanie.”
Isabel looks down.
“Isabel, I’m sure the rest of the group joins me in wishing you the best of luck when you leave here.” Larry is smiling at her warmly. “Can we all get together and give Isabel a send-off?”
One by one Ben, Regina and finally, somewhat begrudgingly, Melanie get up and stand on all sides of Isabel’s chair.
“Okay, guys. Let’s all take a moment of silence and think good thoughts for Isabel,” Larry says, his voice coming from behind the group.
Isabel looks back down to her lap. She jumps when she feels the first hand on her shoulder but is filled with a tremendous sense of calm as other hands rest on her shoulders and upper back.
I’m never going to see these people again. The thought is, this time, connected with sadness, not with hope.
Before each hand leaves she feels tiny squeezes of support. Isabel swallows back a lump forming in her throat.
“Goodbye, Isabel.” Larry’s quiet voice breaks the silence. “Good luck.”
When Isabel glances up she looks across the room directly into Sukanya’s eyes. For a brief second, Sukanya seems to be focused on her, not drifting off into space. When Isabel blinks, Sukanya does, too…and then slowly looks away. Isabel knows that is Sukanya saying goodbye.
Seventy
Rounding the corner, she finds the gardener watering a bed of impatiens. She slows to a walk and stands for a moment watching as he gently moves the hose from side to side over the brightly colored blossoms. There is a contagious serenity about him that casts a spell on Isabel.
Now she has to break that spell.
Alex. Her job at ANN. For the first time in a very long time Isabel is thinking about her future. And for the first time in a very long time, she does not dread it. Lark, Kristen, Ben, Melanie, Regina, Keisha, Sukanya: their faces flash through her brain and then blur. She turns and looks back at the unit and closes her eyes. She knows it is time to leave.
“Hey,” she calls out as she resumes her jog toward the gardener. She has never learned his name. Without turning around he answers her. She can tell by the sound of his voice that he is smiling. Is it her imagination or does he sense she is leaving?
“Wa-hey, my friend.”
“It’s my last day here,” Isabel says as she jogs in place, aware that it will force real conversation were she to stand still. She wants to keep this light. She wants to keep moving forward.
“Good news, good news.” the gardener nods. He glances in her direction, but his arm continues to wave the hose over the thirsty flowers.
“Well, I’ll see you, I guess,” says Isabel, unsure of how to say goodbye.
“I hope not, my friend. I sure hope not,” he answers as she turns to jog back toward the unit.
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” she calls back to him, smiling to herself, knowing his answer.
“Ev’ry day’s a lovely day. Ev’ry day’s a lovely day.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3670-1
BUT INSIDE I’M SCREAMING
Copyright © 2003 by Elizabeth Flock.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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Elizabeth Flock, But Inside I'm Screaming
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