I just wonder if
   it’s ‘here’
   or ‘out there.’”
   Speaking of Out There
   Stanley has cornered
   a short, zitty guy, who
   he keeps calling “Flea.”
   Paul moves in, yelling
   for Stanley to shut the hell up
   and go sit this one out.
   Flea retreats to a corner
   to smirk in Stanley’s
   direction, which stirs
   everything up again.
   Stanley stands, heads
   in Flea’s direction.
   Paul goes after Stanley,
   warning, You’re going to
   be sorry, shithead.
   Kate moves toward
   Flea, warning, If he
   goes down, you go down.
   Tony pushes me back
   toward the wall.
   This is going to he ugly.
   Stay behind me.
   He’s right, as Paul
   wrestles Stanley down,
   leveraging one fat body
   with his own not-so-svelte one.
   The room dissolves into howls
   as Flea moves forward,
   We hear from Justin Ha-ha, asshole.
   And Kate takes him
   down, easy as pie.
   What did I tell you?
   I start to cry because
   this place is insane, and if
   I’m here, I must be insane too.
   Tony turns, wraps his arms
   around me. Don’t cry,
   Vanessa. Everything’s okay.
   I’ll always be here
   for you.
   Conner
   Now I Could Tell
   A sordid tale of one
   twin envying another,
   of relentless competition,
   even money on the win
   until we were old enough
   to learn the finer points
   of cheating. You’d think
   getting caught might concern
   us. Not! Both of us had one
   real goal in mind: attention,
   especially from Dad, who seemed
   to think his familial role
   was demanding respect.
   It’s hard to respect someone
   who outlines expectations
   without regard to feasibility.
   But I’m not going there,
   so I’ll try to placate
   the bulldog. “Cara is bright,
   I won’t deny that. What I
   don’t understand is why
   she feels the need to one-up
   me, from clothes to stereos
   to the finest wheels good
   old Dad’s money can buy ….”
   Just as I decide maybe
   there’s more to the story
   I’d like to confide after all,
   Dr. Starr’s telephone rings.
   One minute … uh-huh … oh!
   On my way. Sorry, Conner.
   Looks like we’re done for the day.
   Dr. Starr Jumps Up
   Almost overturns her big
   armchair, moves swiftly
   across to the door. Something
   major has happened somewhere
   in the building, that’s for sure.
   Who knew the bulldog could
   move so fast? I wonder what
   I should do—stay or follow?
   As if reading my mind, she
   demands, Hurry up, Conner.
   She sprints down the hall,
   pumping her hands forward
   and back. Stay right behind
   me and don’t interfere.
   Then, to herself, What were
   they thinking? This isn’t TV!
   Dogs, cops, and takedowns—
   grandstanding! And tomorrow
   is visiting day. How many
   parents will be understanding?
   Dogs, cops, and takedowns?
   And I missed all that, under
   interrogation by Dr. Starr—
   our weekly one-on-one tryst?
   She swings a wide right toward
   the dining hall, mutters
   under her breath, Damn if I’ll
   take the fall for this one.
   Not Again
   This room is a setting
   for lunacy. Paul and Kate
   have a couple of guys down
   on the floor. One is Stanley.
   That dude is a walking
   time bomb, always ready
   to detonate, even when
   his demeanor is calm.
   So there he is, under Paul’s
   substantial knee. Little Kate
   has proven she’s more than
   the mouse she appears to be.
   And to my right, just inside
   the door, Tony is holding
   Vanessa like they’re an item.
   There’s definitely more
   to that relationship than
   one might guess. As Dr. Starr
   storms into the room, they pull
   apart, press back against the wall.
   I join them. “So, did you guys
   get to see any of the action?
   I was stuck in the confessional.
   Can you tell me what happened?”
   We’re guessing it was a meth
   bust, Tony says. They hauled
   Todd out of here in handcuffs.
   rest is just Stanley.
   We watch Dr. Bellows
   and Dr. Starr extricate
   Stanley from Paul’s grasp.
   Another bizarre day at
   Aspen Springs.
   Tony
   Rumors Travel Fast
   We hear from Justin,
   who heard from Dahlia,
   who heard from who
   knows who, that Todd’s
   supplier was his brother,
   who stashed the meth
   in a hollow-handled
   toothbrush. How this
   deception was discovered
   will be debated for weeks.
   “Probably a random pee
   test, don’t you think?”
   That, or his brother
   got busted and turned
   narc, Conner says.
   Vanessa has another
   theory. Maybe guilt
   got the best of him.
   Conner and I just laugh.
   “Cranksters rarely feel
   guilty about what they do.
   More likely, he felt proud
   of himself—smug, even—
   for getting away with it.”
   Yeah, until the dog came
   through the door, Conner
   adds. Then he probably
   felt like a total dumb shit.
   Jeez, he’d already made
   Level Three, hadn’t he?
   “Yes, and hey, guess what!
   I did too. Dr. Boston
   told me yesterday.”
   Me too, says Vanessa.
   I hope that means
   a trip out of here soon.
   I Don’t Tell Them
   The one condition
   of my newly acquired
   Level Three status—
   a successful interaction
   with my father, who’s
   coming to visit tomorrow.
   To quit stressing over
   the thought, I ask,
   “Do you have visitors coming?”
   Vanessa answers, My
   grandma will be here.
   Can’t wait to see her.
   Conner nods, stiff
   as a mannequin. My
   mother has finally
   agreed to come. I’d rather
   not see her, but have to,
   to make Level Three.
   “You haven’t seen
   her yet? How long
   have you been here?”
   Six weeks, give or take.
   She hasn’t even asked
   to see me until now.
 & 
					     					 			nbsp; Vanessa snorts. Sounds
   like your mom is almost
   as wonderful as mine.
   “Neither of them could
   be half as screwed
   up as mine was,” I say.
   We’ll have to compare
   notes one day, Conner
   says. You in, Vanessa?
   Face the color of death,
   she replies, Talking about
   Mama makes her real.
   Major Insight
   In only six words.
   “Well, someday
   we’ll swap stories.”
   I offer Vanessa my most
   engaging smile, and
   she tries to return it.
   Conner plays the game,
   plays it well. No need
   to swap, really. I’ve
   got stones enough for
   all of us. And if I include
   my dad, that will keep us
   entertained for hours.
   Oh, hey. Speaking of
   entertainment, here
   come the fine doctors,
   looking rather distressed.
   Suppose dinner will be late?
   I’d say that’s a given.
   Drs. Starr and Bellows
   sweep across the room,
   faces red and chests
   puffing. Bodies move
   to let them by, a wave
   of agitation. All right,
   everyone, back to your
   rooms, commands Dr. Starr.
   Dinner will be a little
   late tonight, but I promise
   you won’t go hungry.
   She’s a regular sweetheart!
   People begin to shuffle
   past, and as Vanessa
   moves to join them, I
   reach for her hand.
   “Remember—you’re not
   alone.”
   Vanessa
   Just Another Day
   Trying to keep my head
   above water—the azure water
   I’m sliding down into now.
   Too much confusion.
   Too much upset.
   Too much time
   without a mood adjuster.
   I’m sure I’m not
   the only one, either.
   The Pill Patrol better
   put it in high gear.
   Conner says he’s been
   here for six weeks,
   which means I’ve been here
   at least seven, maybe
   closer to eight.
   And I don’t feel better.
   Don’t feel healed.
   Don’t feel clearer.
   I could stay in a place
   like this forever
   and never get well.
   You’re not alone, Tony says,
   and I believe
   he believes that.
   I’m here for you.
   And I want to
   believe that, too.
   Don’t cry, Vanessa.
   But I can’t
   help crying now.
   I Will Admit
   Through flowing tears
   that Tony has become
   more than a friend to me.
   He’s a bright planet
   in the dark morning
   sky of my existence.
   Somehow seeing him,
   even with his varied flaws,
   buoys me with hope.
   I am better for knowing him.
   Conner, too, although he’s more
   like a faraway star, brilliant,
   but cold in his distance;
   beautiful in his perfection,
   but likely to burn too brightly,
   snuff himself out.
   I wonder where he came
   from, what random joining
   of energies created
   such complexity.
   My mother finally asked
   to see me, Conner said,
   and I wonder
   what kind of
   mother she is.
   I’d rather not see her at
   all, but have to….
   Now that I
   can relate to
   completely.
   If I include stones about
   my dad, we’ll be entertained…
   Stories about
   Daddy are the stuff
   movies are made of.
   One Time He Came Home
   For Christmas—an unusual
   event in itself. We probably
   saw him on holidays
   two or three times over the years.
   We worked and worked
   to make the house beautiful
   with paper chains, tinsel,
   dollar-store candles, candy canes,
   and a homemade gingerbread village.
   Daddy arrived on Christmas Eve,
   arms laden with presents—wrapped
   in newspaper, cheered by colorful bows.
   We wanted to open them right
   then and there, but he made
   us wait until morning,
   because the best things
   are worth waiting for.
   We woke, filled with anticipation,
   ran to the Christmas tree.
   Daddy turned us around,
   made us march down the hall
   with respect for the meaning
   of the day.
   We sat on the floor, newspaper-
   wrapped presents in our laps,
   imagining all the wonderful
   things inside. We opened them carefully,
   peeling back layers of newsprint
   until we reached the boxes,
   sliced the Scotch tape with our fingernails,
   lifted the flaps, and each of us found …
   One MRE (Meal, Ready to Eat—
   turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce,
   in foil pouches); one Hershey bar;
   and a handful of bullet casings,
   because this is what
   my men are getting today.
   And one more thing: a scrap of paper
   with a hand-scrawled
   I love you,
   Dad.
   Conner
   Tossing and Turning
   Every lump in this mattress
   a boulder against my back,
   every wrinkle in the sheets
   a two-by-four in my shoulder,
   sleep denied by the fear
   of what tomorrow’s visit
   will bring. I squeeze my eyes
   shut, try to focus instead
   on the events of today,
   find some relief, conjuring
   Vanessa’s face. But then
   visions of another face come,
   black-and-white, frame by
   frame, like in an old film noir.
   Dark, my love for her was very
   dark, a source of secret shame.
   I get out of bed, go to
   the window, look out on
   a surreal scene—moonlight,
   and in its muted glow, hints
   of lacy flakes. Late March,
   and snowing. Spring skiers
   will be happy, but for me
   it means a growing sense
   of claustrophobia. To
   sleep, I swallow Ativan.
   Dr. B prescribed it when I
   told her how nightmares keep
   me awake. Every evening,
   they bring me two. Usually,
   I take one, stash the other.
   Tonight I pray three will do.
   A Voice Rouses Me
   It’s Kate, rattling my bars.
   Wake up, Sykes. It’s almost
   eight and you missed breakfast.
   Dr. Starr will give you a break
   this time, mostly because
   your parents are coming
   today. Usually, missing
   a meal will score you a
   level drop. I know you
   don’t want that, so haul
   your ass out of bed. Her
    
					     					 			arrogant tone is a taunt.
   I rouse myself, try to
   clear the Ativan fog,
   lifting inside my head,
   leaving fear in its place.
   Dreams I cannot remember
   have stirred another part of
   me. I decide to let Kate see.
   Without a word, I toss back
   the blankets and climb from
   bed, pajamas pointing stiffly
   in Kate’s direction. She just
   smiles. Was it something I said?
   Your parents arrive at nine.
   I suggest you get rid of that,
   one way or another, then get
   dressed in something decent.
   No problem. I need neither
   palm nor cold shower to
   shrivel me instantly.
   My mom is on her way.
   Nine A.M. Exactly
   I knock on Dr. Starr’s door.
   Voices inside fade to black.
   Despite the rumpled Lauren,
   I reach for some semblance of pride.
   Come in, Conner, calls Dr.
   Starr, but my slippery hand
   fumbles the knob and it’s
   Dad, on the far side of the door,
   who opens it, pulling me
   through and right up against
   him. It’s the closest we’ve ever
   been, two strangers touching.
   Immediately, he comes to
   his senses, jerks backward.
   H-hello, son. Good to see you.
   Every muscle tenses, as if
   I might try to hug him or
   something perverse like that.
   “Hello, Dad,” I answer, also
   shifting into a quick reverse.
   Will you please come inside and
   close the door? Mom gives me
   a cold once-over. I see you haven’t
   learned to care for your clothes.