Tweakerville: Part Two

Fitz gets institutionalized.

Two Years Ago

Oh, s**t. It's happened again. My mother's crying and my dad won't look at me. They're talking to some bureaucrat dressed up like a doctor. Now this government slob is staring at me with her lips all squeezed together and her face all pinched up like she's disappointed. Like I cheated on a test or something. I smile at her so that she won't see how disgusted I am. The pencil-pusher calls me over and I stand up and walk to my parents.

So how'd I do? I ask. The quack looks at my folks.

We'll get to that in a minute, she says. Now, I need you to be honest with me, Gerald.

Mam, I always try to be honest, I say. Just like my dad taught me. My dad still won't look at me.

Gerald, says the quack. Did you take the pills this morning?

Yes, ma'am, I say. Took them with breakfast.

What about yesterday? She has her arms crossed.

No, I say. Not yesterday.

Why not? She asks.

Mam, I should really only be talking about this stuff with my doctor, I say.

I am your doctor, Gerald, she says. What happened yesterday with the pills?

I couldn't remember where I put them, I say.

But you found them today? The quack hasn't blinked since she started talking to me.

My mother did actually, I say.

Gerald, she says. It's crucial that you-

Yeah I know, I say. Two a day every day.

Without exception, she says.

The screening, my dad says. What do we need to know? The quack glances over at me. I'm still smiling.

It's really in everyone's best interest that he stay in our facility until we see some positive changes, she says.

The screening, says my dad. What about the screening? The pseudo physician hesitates for a second and then flips through the pages on her clipboard. She stops on one and scans the page before tapping the paper with her red-polish finger nail for my dad to see. My dad leans over and looks at the clipboard.

Christ, he says. My dad grits his teeth and walks out of the office.

Take him home, says the quack. You can check him in tomorrow morning.

...

I'm sitting in the mess hall waiting for the food cart to come around. It's taken some time to get adjusted to this place but I've been here a week now and I think I'm getting a feel for how things operate. This girl and I've been sitting together and waiting to get fed for the last couple days. She's not right in the head but she's reasonably nice to sit and eat with. Danny came to visit yesterday and I tried to introduce her to him but she got funny about it. She asked if Danny was a ghost and told me she can talk to ghosts too. I told her Danny just looks like a ghost on account of him never getting any sun. The girl's not here today. Maybe she's not hungry. I look up from the table as a big, red-haired boy sits down across from me.

I never seen you here, he says. My name's Chester.

Nice to meet you, Chester, I'm Fitz, I say. I'm the fresh meat around here I guess.

What you do? Chester asks. One of his eyes is staring right at me and the other seems to have a mind of its own.

What do you mean? I say.

Why you here? Chester asks. You kill somebody?

No, I say. I never killed anybody.

Why they put you here? Chester asks.

Doctor says I get confused sometimes, I say. Says I get mixed up about what's what and what's not. Chester nods his head.

I start a lot of fires, says Chester. I started a fire in my kitchen so they put me here.

Fire's real pretty to look at, I say.

Sure is, says Chester. You can make 'em a whole lotta different colors too.

You know fire's the first thing people created, I say. Fire's the whole reason people rule the world. Used to be people would go around looking for dead animals to pick at and always hoping nothing would come around and eat them.

Like coyotes? Chester's eyes are wide.

Yeah, people were just like coyotes, I say. Everything we have today is thanks to the people thousands of years ago that first made fire. Cars, guns, television, courthouses, loony bins like the one we're in. None of these things could have happened if we never learned how to make fire.

I like that, says Chester. I like hearin' you talk about fire.

...

It hasn't been so bad here. They keep me fed pretty regular. I haven't seen my parents in a couple months and Danny stopped visiting when I quit flushing the pills these white coated frauds have been giving me down the toilet. Danny's mom overdosed on the same pills and it's a touchy subject for him so I can understand why he stopped talking to me. I'm not so lonely though, I've made a couple new friends in here. My friend, Chester who set his house on fire last year is the craziest b*****d I know but he's a hell of a chess player. Today is a special day. I got a letter this morning from the court telling me my request was approved. No longer am I here as an involuntary patient. I'm here by my own free will and now that I'm eighteen I can turn in my three-day letter and get one step closer to freedom. I've learned in my time here that the only way to win the game these bureaucrats love is to play by their rules. Take their drugs. Fill out the right paperwork. I'm on my way to my court-appointed quack for our bi-weekly bullshit fest. I'm excited to tell her the good news.

Gerald, good morning, she says. I shut the door to her office behind me and walk over to her desk.

Morning, I smile. I sit down in the chair in front of her desk.

How are you doing, Gerald? She asks. I hold up the letter from the court for her to see.

Very, good, Ma'am, I say. I hand her the letter. She reads it and looks over her glasses at me.

Gerald, she says. You've been improving a lot. Do you think you'll be staying a little longer with us?

I don't think that'd be fair to the people that really do need to be here, I say.

That's a very confident answer, Gerald, she says.

I'm very confident, ma'am.

Well, Gerald, I can speak with someone that can get you the proper forms. You'll have to fill out-

Three-day letter, I know, I say.  I talked to someone from the courthouse over the phone, he told me everything I have to do.

Well, all right then, she says. Any changes since the last time we spoke? She asks.

No, ma'am, I say.

No nightmares?

Nope.

Any depression, thoughts of suicide?

Nope.

When was the last time you spoke to your friend?

I don't talk to Danny. Haven't now for a while. She smiles at this. I know she doesn't care too much for Danny. She always said Danny get's me into trouble. I never told her it's really me that get's Danny into trouble.  

...

I'm standing in front of the biggest fraud in the facility. He's studying me, hoping that I'll slip up and say something crazy. But I don't. It's a very tedious game of bureaucratic hopscotch we're playing and he's watching me hop around just waiting for an excuse to keep me here another six months. But I know exactly what things to say. The man from the court told me all the magic legal words I need to know, the things these government types like to hear. The fraud grins at me.

Mr. Fitzpatrick, he says. I'm very impressed. I've never read such an eloquent letter from a boy your age.

Public schools aren't so bad, I say.

Are you ready to become a contributing member of society? He says.  Are you prepared to join the workforce and to become a taxpayer?

Someone has to keep the lights on in this place, I grin.

We’re not gonna see you in here again, I hope?

Not a chance, I say.

Well, sir, says the fraud. I’m gonna sign off on this. You got someone to take you home?

Yeah, I say.

I don’t bother saying goodbye to anyone, not even Chester. I gather up the things they let me keep here and make a beeline for the front desk. I scribble out a couple forms and tell the desk woman she has pretty hair. I open the doors to the front courtyard and breath in the summer heat. Nothing but smooth sailing from here on out. Danny’s sitting under one of the apple trees. He smiles as I walk over to him.

Fancy seeing you here, I say. Danny tosses me an apple.

Heard you were getting out, says Danny. Thought you’d need some walking company. Long way to the bus stop from here. Danny frowns as I flick the chalky, white tablets I’d had in my breast pocket into the grass at our feet. We start walking. The hell was that, Fitz? Danny asks.

Drugs, Danny, I say. And not the good kind.

I thought you were using those pills, says Danny.

I was, I say. But I didn’t take them this morning. No point. I’m out now and no one’s watching.

Those drugs are dangerous, says Danny.

Yeah, I say. I know it. I take a bite of the apple.

You think they helped at all? Danny asks.

Hard to say. I hand Danny the apple. I think if I ever did need them, I don’t now. Everything I’m seeing these days is really there. Everything I hear, everyone I talk to. All there.

That’s good to hear, Fitz.

…

I can hear that hillbilly hollering up on the road. I’m trying my best to keep from shaking but he’s really got me rattled now. He cracks off another shot. I clutch the shotgun and breathe deeply. I roll over on my stomach and rest the shotgun on the felled tree. I aim toward the road and wait. The sun coming up behind me is making strange shadows in the forest and everything looks dangerous. And then he comes. Like some nightmarish demon he stumbles out of the darkness and sways his head back and forth. He’s looking for me. I watch from my position behind the tree as he stumbles around, disoriented and twitching from the meth he’s been smoking. I watch as he breaches his rifle and thumbs another round into the chamber. He snaps the rifle shut and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. He’s walking toward a tree a few yards to my left. He inspects the tree and turns his back to me. I start sweating. He’s got his back to me now and I know this is my only chance to get out of this situation. I stand up and raise the shotgun.

Don’t turn around, I call out. The hillbilly tenses up . I take a few paces toward him. He turns around. Don’t f*****g move, I say. Drop your rifle. The hillbilly looks from me to the shotgun.

Thas mah gun, says the hillbilly.

Not now it’s not, I say. Drop the rifle. The hillbilly smiles. He’s got a few good teeth but not many.

You gon’ shoo’ me, boy? He says.

Yeah, I’ll shoot you, I say.

You gon’ shoo’ me with my gun?

Yeah, if you don’t drop that rifle I will. I don’t give a f**k.

Yer shakin’ like a leaf, boy.

I forgot to take my medicine this morning’s all.

I betchee didn’t even check if that gun’s loaded.

I don’t need to check. If it weren’t, you'd've shot me already. I really am shaking now. I take a half step forward. A voice comes out of the woods behind me.

Fitz, we gotta get out of here.

Danny, is that you? I don’t dare turn around.

Yeah, Fitz. It’s me.

Danny, I don’t know what to do, this f****r won’t drop his gun.

Fitz, you need to shoot him, it’s the only way.

What are you talking about, Danny?

That guy back at the house, Fitz. I killed him. He was gonna kill me. I start breathing heavy. Danny’s voice gets closer. This one you’re aiming at is the same Bill that the guy at the house was talking about. You gotta finish the job and then we have to get out of here.

Who’s that yer talkin’ to, boy? There’s fear in the hillbilly’s eyes.

Shut up, I say. I’m trying to think. Danny puts his hand on my shoulder.

It’s gonna be us or him, Fitz.

Yer f****n’ crazy, boy.

No, I say. You hillbillies are f*****g crazy.

Pull the trigger, Fitz, Danny says. I do what he tells me. The shotgun kicks back into my shoulder and almost knocks me on my a*s. It takes awhile for my ears to stop ringing and I still haven’t opened my eyes to see what I’ve done. I don’t want to see. I toss the shotgun aside and turn around to look for Danny. I don’t see him.

Danny! I call. Danny doesn’t answer me. He must have run off already. There’s nothing left for me to do except try and catch up with him. I can see the road up ahead through the brambles. I breathe in deep and start running.

Reviews

[Zoë]

The addition really cleared up a lot of the story for me and put a lot of the previous events into perspective of if they really happened or not. The deeper look into Fitz's past adds a lot to the previous section that originally didn't come across as clearly.

I don't really have much to say about it, I didn't really catch anything that needed critiquing in this part. Though I do think your character development is still a bit lacking I feel like that gives a nice "detached" feeling to the piece and prevents us from really connecting with Fitz. Also, the first couple of paragraphs were a bit jumpy. It's not that big of a problem because it appears like were "seeing" some of Fitz's memories, but It's just something I would like to point out.

I really liked how you wrapped up this ending. And with what we've learned about his condition I'm wondering if the Hillbilly was even chasing him or actually had a gun. I'm really curious where you're going to take the story from here, or if you're going to progress it any further than you already have.

I'm sorry I couldn't be really helpful on this review, so if there's anything you want me to look for specifically in the piece and critique I'd be happy to read it again and give you more feedback.

[H.L. Cerveise]

Wow, love it. Very intense with all kinds of questions in my head. Your character Gerald/Fritz will be with me now always. To be honest I believe we all have different entities within us; however, only some know or understand that. Writers have to fortune of letting those entities within out by the words we write.