Chapter Twelve

Floyd and Miranda arrive at the institution only to find Alice in a worse place than she was before.

“Miranda.”

I feel a hand on my shoulder and groan, shrugging it off.

“Miranda, we’re here.”

I snap my eyes open and realize I’m still sitting in Floyd’s car.

“How tired are you?” he asks. “I had to call your name about forty times before you woke up.”

I rub my eyes, straightening up.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t realize how tired I really was, I guess.”

“Well, maybe they’ll have some coffee in the lobby, or something. Let’s go inside.”

Blinking hard a few times, I grab my purse off the floor and open the door, stepping out of the car where Floyd is waiting for me.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asks me.

“I’m sure,” I tell him. “Once I stretch out and get my blood flowing, I’m sure I’ll be good.”

Floyd nods and starts up the long, concrete stair case toward the hospital entrance. As I ascend the stairs behind him, my blood starts pumping, and I begin to feel a bit more alert.

“Why the hell do they have such a long staircase for a mental institution?” Floyd grunts. “What do they do if they have someone in a wheelchair, or strapped down to a gurney?”

“This is just the lobby up here,” I tell him. “It’s a separate building. The entrance for ambulances and police cars is over behind this one, and there’s a ramp.”

“Ah, I see. So what’s the point of having two buildings?”

“Well, there’s actually multiple buildings here,” I explain. “This building is the lobby where visitors come and also people who want to check themselves in. And then behind here, there are several other buildings for different age groups. There’s also a separate building for the cafeteria, and a few others with things like classrooms, libraries, rec rooms, etc.”

“Classrooms?” Floyd asks, swinging open the glass door to the lobby.

“Yeah. A lot of kids pull stunts to get themselves put in here, because they think it’ll be a fun little vacation, but really, they have to continue doing school work just the same.”

“Interesting. Oh, look, there is coffee after all. I’ll go get you some if you wanna sign in, or whatever it is you’re supposed to do.”

I nod, and head over to the receptionist desk, which is all surrounded by thick glass.

“We’re here to see Alice Haab,” I say into the microphone.

The woman on the opposite side of the glass does some quick typing into her computer and then slides a clipboard through an opening at the base of the glass.

“You both need to sign in,” comes her tinny voice through the speaker.

I smile and take the clipboard as Floyd joins me at the counter, handing me a cup of coffee.

“Black,” he says. “Isn’t that right?”

I laugh.

“You remembered!”

“Uh, yeah. How could I forget the one other person who drinks it like a man?”

I smile and take the coffee, signing my name on the sheet, along with the time and date.

“Here,” I say, sliding it over to Floyd. “Sign, date, etc.”

He grabs the pen and scribbles some gibberish down before handing it back to me.

“Alright,” I say, sliding it back to the receptionist. “We’re ready to go.”

She looks at the clipboard and then leans over the microphone.

“I’ll buzz you through,” she says. “Your friend is in building 4A.”

I tug on Floyd’s arm, directing him over to the door. There is a loud buzz, followed by a thick clunking noise, as the door unlocks and I push it open, bringing Floyd through.

“This place kind of scares me,” he says, letting the door fall shut behind him. “It seems almost like a prison.”

“Well, not everyone is here of their own free will,” I tell him. “A lot of people are forced to come here because they’re dangerously ill, and sometimes, those people will try to escape. It’s for the safety of everyone else that they keep things locked down so tight.”

“Well,” says Floyd. “I think being locked up just makes the desire to be free even stronger. But I’m not the one with a degree, so…”

We come to a fork in the sidewalk, and Floyd tries to go left, but I grab him and steer him right.

“4A should be on this side, my friend.” I pat him on the back. “Are you nervous about seeing her?” I ask.

“Well, you know… A little. I’m mostly afraid she’s going to be thinking twice about checking in, and then go nuts because she can’t check herself back out. It’s like being in the hospital,” he says. “When I was about 12, I was in the hospital for several weeks, and it was real fun at first… But it started to become just downright unbearable after awhile. I remember that my parents would come to visit me every night, but they only stayed a little while, and when they’d leave, I would start crying and not be able to stop, so they’d have to put something in my IV to calm me down, otherwise I went crazy.”

I lift an eyebrow.

“Really? That sounds odd… The IV deal, I mean. You say you were twelve?”

“About. I thought it was weird, too,” he says. “I mean, it didn’t knock me out or anything, but it did make me really calm and sleepy.”

“Huh… I wonder what they gave you… Oh, here it is right here. Building 4A.”

Floyd and I march up to the building where I pull the door open. “These doors open from the outside, but not the inside,” I explain. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“That sounds like it could be pretty handy,” says Floyd, following me inside.

In the building, there is another desk at the back, past a bunch of chairs and couches, with people sitting around. I head back there and inform the man that we are here to see Alice.

“Ya’ll go sit down and wait,” he says. “I’ll go get her.”

He walks off down a hall, and I take a seat on an empty couch next to Floyd.

“Sure have to go through a lot of s**t just to visit someone,” he says, picking up a magazine from a table.

“That’s mine!”

A short girl with thick glasses and terrible acne marches up and snatches the zine from Floyd before scurrying away.

“Well, okay then.” Floyd shakes his head, sitting back. “Easy to see why she’s here.”

I stifle a grin and turn away, looking out the tall windows, gazing upon what appears to be a rather beautiful courtyard.

“Hey,” I say. “I’ll be right back. I wanna go see what’s out there.”

Floyd shrugs and I get up, moving toward the windows to peer outside.

There is a stream filled with bright green water and several lily pads. A waterfall spills down from the top over a number of smooth, brown rocks. All around are colorful flowers and ornamental grass breeds. It looks like a very relaxing place to be.

I watch with amusement as a bird zips by, apparently being chased by a butterfly; an unusual sight, I have to admit.

As the setting sun reflects onto the water fall, it sparkles, covering its surroundings in dancing orange beams.

I sigh to myself.

From behind me, I hear voices, but decide not to turn around. The view is just so enticing.

Soon, however, I hear Floyd’s voice say “She’s right over there,” followed by “Hey, Miranda!”

I turn around to see Alice standing in front of Floyd, wearing a pretty blue dress. I smile and wave.

In a matter of time less than a second, Alice’s smile dissolves and she stares at me in terror.

“That’s not Miranda!” she screams, falling backwards into a chair. “WHO IS SHE?!”

Floyd reaches out a hand which Alice slaps.

“It’s me,” I say, taking a few steps toward her. Alice shrieks and recoils, falling backwards out of her chair.

Floyd jumps to his feet and scrambles around to the other side of the chair, where he kneels. As quickly as I can, I join him, only to see a wide-eyed Alice lying in a heap, sweating like a hog.

“Alice,” I say softly. “It’s me, Miranda. What’s got you so freaked out?”

Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, she is calm.

“You…” she whimpers. “It’s you in the vision. You’re going to… to…”

The next thing anyone knows, Alice is shrieking again, flailing.

Floyd is doing his best to keep her pinned down as she attempts to bite and scratch him.

 “Go get help!” he cries.

But before I even have time to stand, several people in white coats are moving toward us, telling Floyd to stand back.

Together, they tackle Alice, her screaming filling the air and resounding off the doors and windows.

Floyd grabs me and covers my eyes.

“I know you’ve seen this kind of s**t before,” he breathes into my ear, “but I know you’ve been through a lot of s**t lately, and this is Alice. You don’t need to see this.”

My heart pounds as I hear her scream louder than ever. Suddenly, Alice is silent, and through the vibrations in the floor, I can tell that her struggling has stopped.

Someone in the group mutters into a walkie talkie, requesting a straight jacket, and then footsteps are moving away from us.

Slowly, Floyd uncovers my eyes, but doesn’t let go of me. I blink a few times, and watch the men carrying Alice down the hall. The one person still there takes a look at me.

“Are you alright, Ma’am?” he asks. Unable to speak, I nod.

“Evidently, that one’s not quite ready for visitors just yet,” he says. “Don’t worry, though. We will definitely let her call you when you’re able to visit again. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“She’ll be fine,” Floyd answers for me. “They’re just really good friends. It’s a little hard on us both to see her this way. But we’ll be fine.”

“Ah,” says the man. “Well, alright then. I’m sorry you guys had to come all the way out here just so this could happen. But at least she’s in a place full of people who can help her. You guys take care now. At least you have each other.”

He smiles politely and then starts down the hall after the group of men.

“Really, though.” says Floyd, finally releasing me. “Are you going to be alright?”

I turn to face him and see that he is bleeding near his eye.

“Oh…” I groan. “Did Alice do this to you?” I reach up and wipe the blood away with my thumb to reveal a long, thin gash along Floyd’s cheekbone.

“Oh, s**t,” he says. “I didn’t even notice that. It kinda stings, now that you mention it.”

I bite my lip, looking around for anything I might be able to use to help clean the wound. Looking over toward the desk, I spot a first aid kit, mounted on the wall.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, heading in that direction.

“Can I help you?” asks the man at the desk.

“Yes, I think so. You have a first aid kit right there? Do you have any band aids? Maybe a disinfecting wipe, or something?”

He blinks and turns toward the white box.

“Let me check…”

After a moment of rummaging, he pulls out a couple band aids and a white packet containing an alcohol wipe.

I thank him and hurry back to Floyd, who is chugging down what’s left of his coffee.

“I got you some things,” I tell him, unwrapping the alcohol wipe. “This is probably going to hurt like hell, but it’ll keep it from getting infected.”

Gently, I dab the wound with the wipe. Floyd cringes, and I can hear him grinding his teeth.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, crumpling the wipe up and shoving it back into its package before tearing into the band aids.

“Don’t worry,” says Floyd. “And thank you for taking care of this. You didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

“No trouble,” I assure him, covering his scratch with two band aids. “I’m sorry that Alice freaked out. It’s all my fault. I never did warn her that I look different.”

“It’s not your fault at all,” Floyd objects, standing and extending an arm to help me to my feet. “She’s seen your face for most of her life. You’d think she’d have an easier time recognizing you than I did.”

I take his hand and get to my feet, grabbing my purse off the couch.

“Well,” I say, as we walk toward the door. “Alice isn’t Alice right now, so… I couldn’t expect her to think like she normally would. I should have been more careful.”

Floyd tries the door, but it doesn’t open. I look back toward the desk, where the guy nods, and then there’s a buzz and a clank, and Floyd’s spilling out the door.

“Okay,” he says, straightening up and holding it open for me. “I’ve had just about enough of this place for one day. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

I nod in agreement, and together, we stroll back to his car without another word.