"What, are you kidding me? Sundays? I love Sundays. I live for Sundays. The whole family's together. Mom makes braciole. Dad puts the jersey on. We're all watching the game. Yeah, it drives me crazy, and yes, I was negative." I looked down at my crinkled folder. "You didn't even know that I loved it, Maddie, but I did. I just didn't appreciate it, or you, before." Someone knocked at my door.
Come on. Time to go." A man, the assistant, told me.
Ignoring him, I continued my speech. "I lost all that. I blew it. But you also blew it. We can get it back. We're gonna get it back. It's all gonna be better now. I'm better now and I hope you are, too. And I'm gonna appreciate-" The man knocked at my door again.
"Hey, I'll be there in a minute, okay?" I assured him.
"Doctor's waiting. Let's go." He told me again, firmly.
"I'll be there in a minute." I responded, I needed to finish my speech. It was important to me. "That's true love." I glimpsed a look at my room before I left, a clear mayonnaise jar on my desk filled with water, my black trash bag on my bed, and my handwritten, "EXCELSIOR" sign, which I stopped to admire before I left.
I was in Karel Psychiatric Facility, it hadn't been too long, but I was beginning to adjust to the routine. I was always told to take my medication, but as I held the small paper cup, with the red capsule inside, I decided not to take it. I tipped my head back, and dumped the pill in my mouth, drank my water, and opened my mouth wide, sticking out my tongue, showing the nurse I swallowed. I walked away, and once I was a good distance, I spat out the pill. As always.
Group Therapy was always interesting, I suppose. I liked listening to my friend Yao drabble about his hair, which he had cut short now. Once you get in the right frame of mind, I think anything's possible. I think we get, we so often get caught in this state of negativity and it's a, it's a poison like nothing else.
I enjoy working out, Maddie wanted it, and I want her back, so I make sure to work extra hard. While I was doing sit ups though, I notice red toe nails in white sandals. I look up, only to find my mother in a white dress, staring back at me.
The doctor looked over to my mother as we walked down the hallways of the Mental Institution.
"Technically, you can take him out against our recommendation, but you assume a lot of liability in the eyes of the court. And he's just getting used to the routine here." He looked towards her, in exasperation.
"I don't want him to get used to the routine here. Eight months is already long enough!" She exclaimed, knowing that no mother wanted their son in a mental institution. The doctor opened the door and we all walked in. We sat down in the chairs and the man pulled out a piece of paper, it was the Hospital Discharge Form, and I watched as my mother quickly scanned over it, then signed it in black pen.
I opened the car door, and slid into the passenger seat. I was going home, and that meant I was closer to Maddie. That was good. My Mother buckled her seatbelt and begin to roll out of the parking lot when we saw Yao in the distance carrying a suitcase.
"Hey, Mom. Can we give Yao a ride to North Philly?" I asked as I looked over to her. She stopped the car and looked back at me.
"What? I don't understand." She responded, looking towards Yao, who was walking towards the car.
"Mom, no, it'll be fine. It'll be fine." I assured her. Yao opened the car door and hopped in with his suitcase.
"I guess everybody's leaving today! Hello, Mrs. J! An honor to finally meet you. Al told me all about you, how God made you rich in character, and you're the mighty oak that holds the household together, and not to mention the lasagna you make on game day when the Birds play." Yao babbled, and I watched him contently. I could feel the car seats heat up from the sun, as we drove down the highway.
"Yao was in for assault because of crystal meth and alcohol." I looked over to her, and watched her eyes widen a little.
"Bad combination." He chimed in.
"Yeah. On top of an anxiety disorder." I added spinned to face him, holding the seat cushion so I could hold my place better.
"That was when I was an X-ray technician with my ADD and my anxiety. I had a lot of access to medication and I took advantage of it. That's when my hair was long too. But my hair only grew when I was older. When I was younger, my hair didn't grow because my brother..." He directed his face from my mother to me. "Remember I told you about my brother, he had a highlight, and I couldn't get a highlight because my hair didn't grow long enough. I was so jealous of my brother..."
"He's obsessed with his hair." I looked over to my mother, and her cell phone only ringed in response. She pulled it out of her purse and answered as she drove.
"Hello?" While she talked I spun back to Yao.
"It looks great now." I commented on his hairstyle.
"You like it?" Yao commented back, grinning.
"It's good now." I smiled back at him, I genuinely liked his hair. I reached out to touch it, and apparently I was stroking it the wrong way, he made sure to tell me.
"What? Are you sure about that? I'll bring him back right away." My Mom spoke her last words to the cell phone and hung up.
"You lied to me, Pat. Yao's not allowed to leave." My mom looked at me worriedly."
"All right, Mom, just hold on a sec." I assured her, she looked so concerned. She began to turn her car at the intersection, but she can't do that! We're so close to home...
"Let's just talk about this." I told her, and made a grab for the wheel. "Mom, just listen-" She took the wheel back, and this caused the car to swirl back into the lane, a nearby car, almost being hit, swerves and honks to avoid us.
"Don't touch the wheel!" She panics, pulling the car to the side of the road and stopped.
"Al, this whole thing was a mistake." She looked at her dashboard, then looked up at me.
"I'm sorry, Mom. You okay?" I apologized.
"I am out on a limb for you with the courts right now." She sighed and looked down.
"It's my fault. Pat didn't know. Al didn't know. He's my friend, so he was rootin' for me. I'm havin' a disagreement with the hospital, but we're working it me back to the hospital, but take Al home, he's fine. Trust me. You'll see, he's fine. It's my fault." He assured her, thankfully, because she took him back and allowed me to come home with her.
"Mom, can we stop at the library? I wanna read Maddie's entire English high school syllabus." I asked her, only receiving a worried look from my mother.
"Mom, it's a good thing. I'm remaking myself." I assured her, only receiving a small teary eyed smile back.
When we pulled into the driveway, I gathered my stuff, and followed Mom up to the door. As I walk back I'm struck with the familiarity of my childhood home, but when I look over I realize that my portrait does not hang with my father's on the yellow hallway wall. As I enter the family room I find my neighbor Randy, and my Dad. They must be talking about football.
"Hey, there she is! Look how beautiful!" Randy, the neighbor, remarks as he sees my mother. My father turned around and sees us, though I can tell his face is full of surprise.
"What?! What's this?!" He exclaimed, gesturing towards me, I can't tell whether he's happy or upset, all I know is he knows I'm here.
"Hey." Randy greets me. My father steps closer and give me a pat on the arm.
"Everything good?" He looks into my eyes, quite like any father, really. Unsure and awkwardly, I reply a quiet yes.
"Ahh." He smiles, and embraces me, then pokes my chest.
"Where is it?" He asked. Knowing exactly what he was talking about, my gold necklace, I tell him.
"It's right here." I pull the necklace from inside my shirt.
"You got it. Ahh, well, we got that. We don't want them to steal that." He holds the necklace for a short minute, admiring it.
"You still got yours?" I ask him back. Hell, I have mine, he better have his.
"Yeah, I got mine." He pulls his out of his shirt to show. Then, he looks over to my mother.
"So what, you don't talk to me? You didn't tell me you took him out." He tells her, I could pick up the agitation in his tone. Wait, Mom didn't tell him? What?
"Well, he's ready. Look at him." My Mom gestures towards me, and I look back at her.
"You didn't tell Dad you were picking me up?" I asked her, why hadn't she told him? Isn't that kind of important?
"Don't worry about that." She assures me, though, I still found it a little odd. Dad turned back to me and frowned.
"I wanna make sure when you come out that you're okay, and she didn't say anything-" he turned to my mother, "You didn't tell me?" He looked worried, fussing over me.
"The court said yes. Don't worry." She remarked back, walking inside the house.
"Yeah, but what did the doctor say? Because the, the court listens to the doctor." He made sure to look at both of us for that one.
"Yeah, and the court said-" I explained to him, but he cut me off.
"The court listens to the doctor," He drawled out his sentence, looking me clear in the eyes.
"Dad, relax. The court said it's fine, okay? Let it go." I smile, and pat his shoulder.
"Don't worry." My mother chimes in, turning back and smiling.
"Dad, I'm in there because of the court. That's the agreement that we made months ago. It was a plead bargain with the courts. The lawyer, he instructed me, he said that what we should plead that, and then I would serve eight months and then I'd get out." I tell him flatly, and I could tell he wasn't comfortable with it.
"Yeah, no, I just-" He blurts.
"It's all under control." My mother added more sternly before.
"Well...okay, okay. Congratulations." He told me, and smiled up at me. Maybe it was okay.
"Thank you. So what are you doing with yourself?" I converse with him, I haven't really been home for 8 months, so it was nice.
"You know, I'm gonna start a restaurant." I could see the atmosphere in the room lift, and I followed him to the coffee table, where drawings of this restaurant where sprawled across. "It's gonna be a cheesesteak place." He sighed, contently.
"How you gonna pay for it?" I genuinely had no clue how the man was going to pay for it...
"I'm gonna pay for it, don't worry about it." He softly batted his hands and looked down.
"From your bookmaking?" I asked.
"Who told you that?" He shouted in shock, looking towards my mother.
"Mom told me. Outside." I said, looking towards her also.
"I did not. No, I didn't." She rushed, walking away.
"You just told me outside, Mom, what are you talking about? Five minutes ago, we were walking up the stairs, you said, "Don't say anything, but Dad lost his job and he's bookmaking." I explained.
"Why, Hon? Why did you say that to him? He has the wrong idea." My father whined. Then he looked up at me.
"Everything's fine, Alfred. I'm more concerned about you than anything else."
"Good, Dad. Good."
"Okay, the question, the big question, is what are you gonna do with yourself?" He asked.
"What am I gonna do? I'm getting in shape, I'm getting trim, I'm getting really fit for Maddie. I'm gonna read Maddie's teaching syllabus and get my old job back." I answered.
"Maddie sold the house. She left. Didn't your mother tell you that?" My Father told me.
"Let me tell you something. You don't know anything about my marriage, okay, Dad? All right? Our marriage...we're very, very much in love, okay? Just like you two." I was being to get a little agitated, but I couldn't, so I tried to stay calm.
"Listen, Alfred, she's gone. She's not around anymore. Maddie left." He responded again. He can't tell me she's gone! She can't be gone!
"What are you doing, Dad? You know what? Excelsior. Excelsior." I assured him, but more myself.
"What does that mean?" He asked, I could hear the edge in his voice.
"It means you know what I'm gonna do, I'm gonna take all this negativity and use it as fuel and I'm gonna find a silver lining, that's what I'm gonna do. And that's no bullshit. That's no bullshit. That takes work and that's the truth." I told him, flatly, looking at him to make sure he heard me.