Текст книги "Illusion"

Автор книги: Фрэнк Перетти

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chapter

5

By her second day at the Spokane County Medical Center, Mandy was willing to believe she wasn’t in the company of aliens—or any other creepy, time-warpy, Twilight Zonesci-fi creatures. The CAT scan machine looked as if it couldhave sucked out her brain, but it didn’t. A nurse named Carol took a sample of her blood, and that wasn’t weird—she used a real needle. Leaving a urine sample in a little jar was tricky, but she worked her way through it. She even got a few meals, a warm, clean bed, and good old down-to-earth questions about insurance.

Midmorning, June took her to a nice sitting room just off the main hallway, where sweet lovin’ Johnny the cop was waiting for her. She sat in one comfortable chair and he sat in another comfortable chair directly across from her so he could keep an eye on her.

Now, in addition to a modest pair of scrubs and a robe, she had slippers that slipped right on and slipped right off. She had to dig into them with her toes so they’d stay with her when she walked, but it was so much better than being barefoot, and as for the scratches and cuts on her feet, June had taken care of those.

She was there to wait while the doctors got the results of all the tests and decided what to do. Wait there with Johnny watching her.

And watching her.

“Hi,” she said just to see what he’d do.

“Hi,” he said back.

He was a big guy with a gun and a radio and handcuffs and he knew it. It was like staring down a guard dog.

There was a box of Kleenex within reach. She reached. He watched her, his eyes full of warning.

“Got to blow my nose,” she told him. She blew and wiped her nose and he seemed okay with that.

She reached for another Kleenex and this time it didn’t bother him so much, so he didn’t mind or notice the extra Kleenex she took at the same time and hid in her robe’s collar behind her head. She snorted a little, trying to clear her right nostril, scrunching her nose around. He looked at her but didn’t seem to find that exciting.

She took hold of one corner of the tissue in her hand and squished and twisted it into a point. Then she fed the point up her nostril, sucking in air to help it along. She pushed, she snorted, she drew long and deep, even threw her head back a little. The Kleenex looked as if it was going clear up her nose.

Now Johnny was scowling, paying full attention.

She sucked the whole thing up her nose and then brought her empty hands away from her face, palms visible so he could see them, and gave a little hum of satisfaction.

Ah. She had him. He was looking at her with intense, head-tilted suspicion, and hadn’t noticed how she stashed the Kleenex down her robe sleeve.

Now for the final effect. She winced in pain, shook her head to jar the Kleenex loose, then brought her hands to her right ear, dug in with her right finger, and found the end of the Kleenex—from behind her head. With a little grunt or groan with every tug, she pulled the Kleenex from her ear a little, then a little more … then a little more … and finally free, letting it hang from her fingers. “Whew!” She sighed with relief.

He actually smiled a little and wagged his head. Well, that was progress.

“Mandy?”

Ah, Dr. Angela appeared in the hallway, a folder in her hand, which had to be the results. She was smiling, which made Mandy smile—for a moment.

As the doctor came into the room, two security guys in navy blue shirts and gray slacks—their name tags said Bruce and Dave—came in with her and not just to visit. With put-on smiles they walked like actors on a stage and took positions on either side of Mandy, close enough to invade her space and make her cringe. As for Dr. Angela’s smile, there was something phony-professional about it, as if she’d taken it out of her doctor pocket and stuck it on just for the occasion.

She could have lent it to Johnny. As he stood to give the doctor his chair, he went back into wall mode, eyes on Mandy, all business. Mandy may have gotten a faint smile out of him a minute ago, but now his face was back on duty and there was nothing to like about him.

“So …” said Angela, flipping the file open. “Things are going in the right direction for you.”

Mandy leaned forward, waiting.

“First of all, we have good news as far as your medical condition. All the tests came back negative. No drugs, no alcohol, no brain damage or injury to your head. All your vitals are just fine. The only problem we still have is …” She looked in the folder at a page that had nothing to do with medical tests. Mandy could see her home phone number among a flurry of notes. “You’ve given us names and phone numbers and we’ve tried to contact these people and as far as anyone can tell”—she looked straight into Mandy’s eyes—“there are no such persons, no such phone numbers, no such addresses. Besides that, there’s no Mandy Whitacre on file with the Department of Motor Vehicles. The Social Security Administration has no record of a Mandy Whitacre with your Social Security number. There’s no Mandy Whitacre enrolled at NIC—and it’s North Idaho College now, not North Idaho Junior College. Your insurance company … well, they were bought out in 1995 and don’t exist anymore as a company.”

It had to sink in a moment. This learned doctor could not possibly be saying such things. Lies. How in the world?Somebody just wasn’t thinking. Mandy looked right back into Angela’s eyes. “And no Mandy Whitacre sitting right in front of you? I know my own name, Doctor!”

The doctor was flustered. “We know it seems real to you, but we can’t verify any of it.”

“As if I don’t know my own name and my own father? How dare you say such a thing to me!”

Angela raised her hands for a truce. “That’s not for me to decide, that’s what I’m getting to. It was my job to check you over physically, to make sure you don’t have a medical emergency, and now that’s done and my part in this is over.”

Mandy looked at Johnny, Bruce, and Dave. “So why are these guys still standing here?”

“There are some other people you still need to see.”

“And they’re going to make sure it happens, is that it?”

“They’re here to keep you safe.”

Well. Enough of this.“I’d like to leave now.”

Dave put a hand on her arm. She slapped at it. “Get your hands off me!”

Bruce took her other arm. Outrage! She reefed and twisted against their grip as her indignity built to a scream. “Let go of me! Let go!”

Angela—dear, lying, off-her-ever-loving-nut Angela—came in close, speaking softly, trying to defuse the situation. With what, more lies? More branding hera liar?

“Mandy, listen to me.”

She glared at the doctor, every muscle in her body pulling, straining against her captors. Check my heart rate now, you witch!

Angela kept trying. “You have no clothes, no shoes, no money, no ID. Do you want to go back out there with nothing but those scrubs? How long do you think you’d last?”

“Long enough to go home!” The thought made her cry. She twisted and fought some more because she doggone feltlike it.

Angela got right in her face– close enough to spit on, Mandy thought, but didn’t. “If you want to go home, then stop this, right now! Stop.”

Mandy didn’t relax but she held still, angry breath gushing into and out of her nostrils.

The doctor spoke quietly, slowly. “You are here on a police hold, which means by law you have to stay here at least twenty-four hours for evaluation, maybe longer, until everyone is satisfied you won’t be a danger to yourself or anyone else—”

Of all the stupid!“Well, what—”

“And …”

“—do you think I’m gonna do—”

“AND—are you listening?”

Mandy listened.

“There are people who will help you, they’ll listen to you and try to figure out what’s going on. But they’ll need to see that you can control yourself and conduct yourself safely around others, which means …” The doctor indicated Mandy’s situation at the moment, like a raging animal in a net. “If you want to get out of here, you’ll behave yourself so nobody has to restrain you. Does that make sense?”

Make sense?This was just so ridiculous! This really was Planet of the Apesand she really was Charlton Heston the astronaut and she was the weird one, not them, and nobody could see that.

But why would they, and what could she do about it anyway? These were the rules of the game, like it or not. She was the one in the complimentary scrubs and borrowed robe, and all she had in the world was what she knew but couldn’t prove. She wasn’t the doctor with the totally true and trustworthy folder in the big, intimidating hospital with Johnny, Bruce, and Dave working for her.

Play the game, girl. Do your time. Show them you’re okay.

She gave up and covered her face to shut out these people and this insane, impossible world.

Dave and Bruce relaxed their grip but didn’t let go.

“Bruce and Dave are going to take you to another part of the hospital and get you checked in.”

She rose to her feet, ably assisted. “What part?”

“Behavioral Health. Don’t worry. They’re great people.”

chapter

6

Hi, Mandy. I’m Bernadette Nolan, from Health and Human Services. How are you?”

Mandy squared up the deck of cards she was playing with, set them aside, and stood to shake hands. Bernadette, a young lady with fiery red hair in big, beautiful curls, took the only other chair, on the opposite side of the table. She did it so professionally, as if she’d said “Hi” and “I’m Bernadette Nolan” to a zillion souls before this, maybe at this very same table in this very same little room with no windows except for the one in the door.

Mandy answered, “I’m clean,” which was about all she could say for sure. The Behavioral Health Unit had loaned her soap and shampoo for a shower and a toothbrush and toothpaste for her teeth and took them back when she was finished so they couldn’t become a means to harm anyone, including herself.

“You look great,” said Bernadette, opening a valise and pulling out a writing pad and some forms.

Right.Clean, but with no way to fix her hair and wearing nothing but hospital scrubs and another pair of those one-size-almost-fits-all slippers. Mandy sent a message with her face: Oh, comeon! She thought better of it and stowed the look, but not before Bernadette saw it.

“Go ahead. Say it.”

Mandy looked into those friendly green eyes. “ Ilook clean. Youlook great.” And Bernadette did look great. Nice jacket, cool jeans, slick pumps.

Bernadette nodded, even chuckled. “I’m the one in the civvies and you’re the one in the scrubs.”

“Right on.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“How should I feel? You weren’t locked in your room with a camera trained on you. You didn’t have to take a shower with Nurse Baines watching you. You got to fix your hair this morning and pick out your own clothes. You even get to wear a bra because nobody thinks you’ll use it to hang yourself.” Mandy, you’re getting angry.“But you do look great. And I like your lipstick.”

“Thank you. It’s called Deep Blush.”

“It goes with your complexion.”

“So how do you usually fix your hair?”

“Oh, straight, with combs and sometimes a clip. I have some headbands, they’re kind of a trip—hey, I made a rhyme!”

Mandy had no grudge with Bernadette and Bernadette was sweet enough. They talked—maybe a little testy at first, checking each other out—but they got on a roll, and every once in a while Bernadette would jot a note on her writing pad or circle an item on a form. Mandy settled within herself that Bernadette was only doing her job; it wouldn’t be fair not to like her.

“So,” Bernadette finally said with a little clap and rub of her hands, “let’s do the questions and the games. What’s my name?”

“Bernadette.”

“Do you remember my last name?”

Mandy had to work a bit. “N … Nolan?”

“Right. And you know where you are?”

“Behavioral Health, Spokane County Medical Center.”

“And what year is it?”

Mandy had to think about that one. It depended on who you asked, so she asked, “Is it 2010?”

“That’s right,” Bernadette answered, but she jotted something down. “And when were you born?”

“January fifteenth, 1951.”

It was fun watching Bernadette trying not to react. She looked at Mandy and smiled, studying her a bit. “Do youthink it’s 2010?”

“That’s what I’m told and that’s what I’m seeing.”

“But you were born in 1951.”

“That’s right.”

“That would make you …” Bernadette had to work it out on her pad. “Fifty-nine. Are you fifty-nine?”

“No, I’m nineteen.”

She chuckled. “Does that puzzle you at all, your being born in ’51 but you’re only nineteen?”

Mandy threw up her hands. “I am completelypuzzled!”

“That’s good. That’s actually very good.” Jot, jot. “Okay, I’ll give you three words: cadillac, zebra, purple. Can you say them back to me?”

“Cadillac, zebra, purple.”

“Can you count backward from one hundred by threes?”

Oh-oh.Mandy and numbers didn’t get along. She counted down as far as fifty-two before Bernadette let it go.

“What were the three words I gave you?”

“Cadillac, zebra, and purple.”

“How about the days of the week? Can you say those backward?”

Mandy felt nervous about that one, but they tumbled out just fine.

“Got a favorite TV show?”

“Carol Burnett. And Daddy and I always watch Gunsmoke.”

“On DVD?”

“Uh … no, Channel Four.”

Jot jot. Hopefully she jotted something positive.

And it went on and on.

“Spell the word worldbackward.”

“Explain what happened yesterday. What do you think should have happened?”

“Can you tell me my name again?”

“Can you name the last four presidents?” Jot jot.

“What were those three words again?”

“Can you give me two different definitions for the word right? How about the word bit? How about left?”

“What do people mean when they say ‘A rolling stone gathers no moss’?”

Mandy had no trouble answering the questions and doing the thinking, but it was getting tedious. She never thought to pick up the deck of cards; she just noticed she was shuffling them as she spoke.

“What do you think people mean when they say ‘When the cat’s away the mice will play’?”

Brrrriiiip!Riffle shuffle on the table. “When the authority figure is absent, people push their boundaries and see what they can get away with.”

“What about hallucinations or delusions? Have you experienced anything like that?”

Brrrrrriiiip!Riffle shuffle off the table, hands in the air, like a skilled cardsharp. “You mean, besides thinking I’m living in 2010?”

“Well, aren’t you?”

Fffffoooot!Waterfall, the cards cascading through space from her raised right hand into her waiting left. “You think I’m living in 2010 and think I’m from 1970. I think I’m living in 1970 and think I’m living in 2010. That’s the difference.”

Jot jot. “Wow. Does that scare you at all?”

“Very much.”

“Do you feel afraid right now?”

Ribbon spread, the cards spread out across the table like a long ribbon, perfectly lapped and spaced. Mandy had to pay attention to the cards for a moment, it looked so good. “I’m making lemonade.”

“Excuse me?”

Mandy gathered the ribbon, squared the deck, and looked Bernadette in the eye. “What do you think people mean when they say, ‘When life gives you lemons, make lemonade’?”

Bernadette nodded. “Got it.” Jot jot.

“Daddy told me that.” She spread the cards into a ribbon again, all facedown except for two in the middle faceup, the king and queen of hearts, side by side.

“You’re very good at that,” Bernadette observed.

“Daddy showed me.”

“You must practice a lot.”

“Sure.”

“Do you ever feel the need to do something over and over until it’s perfect?”

“Practice doesn’t make perfect. It makes better. Daddy told me that, too.”

“How about worry? Do you worry a lot?”

Not until yesterday, she would have answered, but her eyes were locked on a memory: Daddy in his Gonzaga T-shirt, sitting with her in the kitchen, teaching her how to shuffle a deck of cards and do a ribbon spread. She didn’t ask for the emotion; she didn’t even expect it, but now her throat was tightening up and tears were filling her eyes.

“You miss your father, don’t you?”

Mandy just looked at her, the tears overflowing onto her cheeks.

“Sorry.”

Mandy wiped her tears with one hand and gathered the ribbon into a deck with the other. She shuffled the cards and spread out the ribbon again, faceup except for one card facedown in the middle. Her voice quivered and she couldn’t help it. “He didn’t know a whole lot of tricks, but he got me started, and he always told me, ‘Don’t worry about getting perfect, just keep getting better.’ And he wasn’t just talking about card tricks.”

“Those were wise words.”

Tremors of emotion made it hard to talk. “He was a guy trying to raise a teenage daughter all by himself, and he did it.” She lifted one card at the end, starting a wave, and flipped all the cards over as the wave swept through the ribbon. “That’s why I don’t want it to be 2010, because if it is, then my daddy might be dead and that’s why nobody can find him.” With that, she couldn’t talk at all.

Now all the cards were facedown except for the king in the middle, all by himself.

Bernadette offered her a Kleenex to wipe her nose.

Mandy blew and wiped and then steadied herself, at least enough to speak. She tried not to sound angry, but doggone it, she was. “Maybe you should stop asking me all these find-out-if-she’s-crazy questions and just ask me what I want.”

Bernadette glanced at the form she was marking with little underlines and circles.

Mandy covered the form with her hand and would not let Bernadette look anywhere else but into her eyes. “Ask me.”

For a moment, something a little more human came back to her through those green eyes. “Mandy, what do you want?”

She felt so tired of being not herself but a question, angry at that stupid form that was supposed to be her, bitter toward the people who acted so concerned but locked her up and went home at night. “I want to go home.” She tapped on Bernadette’s form and on her writing pad with all the little scribbles. “Write this down: I don’t know what’s wrong with me and I’m sorry I don’t know what year it is, but Bernadette Nolan can drive her purple Cadillac through a zebra on her way home and all I can do is sit here feeling scared and alone and embarrassed until somebody will just let me be who I am and go home. I didn’t ask for this and I don’t want to hurt anybody and I don’t want to hang myself. I just want to go home. I want to go home to my father!”

And that was the end of the questions and games as far as she was concerned. She dropped her gaze and settled back in her chair, looking down at the ribbon of cards. Sure was a nice ribbon. She did that well. She did a lot of things well—not perfect, but pretty doggone well, and Daddy would be proud. He always was.

Bernadette made one more little note on her form, then put everything back in her valise, double-checking the table, the chair, and the floor to make sure all her pens and pencils were accounted for. “Mandy, I really appreciate your time. This was a nice interview.”

“Sorry I got upset.”

“That’s no problem at all. You were being honest.”

“You really are a nice lady.”

“Thanks. So are you.”

“So how’d I do?”

“Oh, we’ll let you know. I’m going to talk with the other DE and then—”

“DE?”

“Sorry. Designated examiner. That’s what we call ourselves. The other one is Karla Harris, and she’ll be coming by tomorrow to talk with you.”

“About … ?”

“About you, pretty much the way I did.”

“I hope I get an A.”

“Well, like your father said …”

Mandy eased a little and smiled.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. Just be yourself.” Bernadette threw her a wink, then rose to leave. “Karla’ll talk to you, and then she and I will talk to each other, and we’ll see where we go from there. By the way”—she scanned the ribbon of cards, passing a pointing finger over them—“are you going to tell me where you put the queen of hearts?”

“She’s in your pocket.”

“In my …” Bernadette didn’t believe it.

Mandy guided her with a gaze and a nod toward her outside jacket pocket. Bernadette reached in, and her professionally pleasant face clouded with amazement when she found something. She withdrew her hand, and there between her fingers was the queen of hearts.

This felt so good. Bernadette held that card up, looking dumbfounded. “How did you do it?”

Now it was Mandy’s turn to put on a professional face and withhold an answer to a direct question. “Oh, I’ll let you know. We’ll see.”

Bernadette shook her head with a smile, laid the queen next to the king, and went to the door. An orderly let her out, and the door clicked shut.

Mandy stared at the queen; she touched the card with her index finger and moved it in little circles. These cards were sure cooperative. They seemed to fall right into place like a little drill team under her command. There was nothing special about this deck, nothing rigged, no short cards or gaffs. It was just one deck of cards Nurse Baines brought her from the activity room. It had only one queen of hearts.

That was what had her puzzled. The Queen in the Pocket trick needed two queens, one to plant in the pocket and one to vanish from the deck. Mandy stared at the cards, trying to remember.

How didshe do it?