A Child in Love
-Chapter Two- Tricks And Treats: At first glance
GPOV
"Everybody, up and out! Now! Come on, stand out in the hall."
A guard banging on the door to my room, and the infernal shouting, awakens me. I rise from my bed and neatly fold the blanket and remove my pillow from its case before slipping my slippers on and retrieving two red ribbons, I curl them around a button on my sweater and stand by the door waiting for it to open. A few seconds later, the door swings open and I see Franks face. He lowers his flashlight so it's not shining in my eyes.
"Good morning Frank!" I greet warmly as I part my hair down the center. I'm rewarded with a smile.
"Good morning to you too, Gabriel."
He moves back to allow me enough room to exit and I walk past him. I begin to braid one side of my parted hair as I turn to watch him shake out the pillowcase and blanket before patting down the mattress and lifting it to pear underneath. He walks around the room and inspects the area thoroughly. I'm not offended by this, I know the rules and I understand. Frank is never rude or abusive to my personal items and always allowed me to straighten my room before I go.
By the time he's done with his search I'm tying off my finished braid with the other ribbon. He taps my small fingers lightly with the back of his flashlight. I look up at him curiously and see the small smile on his face.
"What's that you've got there?" He asks teasingly. And I glance down with a grin on my face before looking up at him seriously.
"Oh, this?" I ask, "Well, this my rock hammer. I'm busting out of this place, you see." I say with a straight face, then dissolve into giggles.
"I see." Frank says with mock seriousness.
"Well, I'm just not so sure I should allow you to keep such an item." He continues.
I gasp and place my hand over my heart, "You wouldn't dare!" I whisper out in horror.
Frank laughs lightly and throws his thumb over his shoulder, "Go on, you've got five minutes."
I nod and move to approach my bed, "Thank you, Frank." I call out to him as he makes his way to the next room.
When I'm done, I move to stand in the hall and start my second braid. I see Sister Jude outside of Pepper's room, the guard holding a nibbled loaf of bread. I shake my head and wiggle my fingers at Pepper; she grins at me and flops her hand in a messy wave. Sister Jude looks towards me then back at Pepper. I focus my finger on weaving my hair into a neat plait as I observe the interaction.
"Now, tell me, why is it we don't allow food in the rooms?" Sister Jude asks.
"Rats!" Pepper shouts out.
"That's right, Pepper. Why can't you get that through your pointy little head? Huh?" Sister Jude asks while tapping Pepper on her head lightly with her knuckles.
"Hey, Sister." I look over to Shelley and narrow my eyes.
"I have a cucumber in my room." She says as she sways by her door, "But not because I was hungry." She finishes.
Sister Jude starts walking down the hall, "Stifle yourself, Shelley. I'll be with you in a minute." She says as she comes to a stop beside another room, I see the woman from a few days ago standing beside the doorway, Interesting, she didn't look crazy.
"Find anything, Frank?" Sister Jude asks and peers into the room.
"No, looks clean to me." Frank says from within the room.
"Check the pillowcase." Sister Jude requests.
"Uh-huh." Frank says, "Here we are." I can't help but giggle at Franks laugh, so amateurish.
Frank sets the contraband onto Sister Jude's clipboard and leans against the doorframe.
"What do we have here?" Sister Jude asks as she unfolds the paper.
"October 28." Sister Jude reads aloud, "Strip-searched and deloused. Denied phone call." She finishes.
"Who would you like to call, Miss Winters? The American Civil Lesbians Union?" I hear Frank laugh and smile.
Lesbian? So, she's like Shelley then, no real wrongdoings, just nature. Such is the way of life, I suppose.
"My editor knows I came here to write a story." The woman, Miss Winters, says, "And, boy, do I have a great scoop for him now." She continues.
"Ah, yes." Sister Jude replies mockingly, "You know, I've read your columns about baked beans, gallivanting geese who've lost their way home." She leans in slightly, "Riveting. Too bad your ambition outweighs your talent." She finishes as she moves around Miss Winters and heads down the hall.
"I don't need those, Sister." Miss Winters calls out cockily, "I have an excellent memory."
"Yeah?" Sister Jude asks, "We'll see about that." And walks through the doors, not sparing a glance at Miss Winters.
I make my way towards the bakery and allow my mind to sort through my newly acquired information as I weave through the halls; I pass a man in a suit, staring through the glass on the door to Doctor Arden's Electro shock therapy room. It seems that our little family is growing.
OTPOV
I am seated at a small table in the room crowded by the mentally unstable, the sound of distressed moaning and Soeur Sourire's song "Dominique" fills the space, smoke rises languidly from the lit cigarette between my fingers. I Shuffle through my papers one last time in preparation. Kit Walker is the perfect candidate to take the fall.
The doors open and Mr. Walker is escorted through, an orderly gripping each arm. When the trio is a few feet from me Mr. Walker pushes himself against a table that is pressed against the wall, his restrained hands grasping for a lone cigarette that lay abandoned on a wooden box that sits atop the table.
I raise from my seat and make my way towards them, "Gentlemen." I say as they knock the broken cigarette from his hand. I raise my own hand, motioning them to stop. "I can handle it from here."
When they don't make to release him right away, I become irritated. "Thank you." I add in a tone that would suggest that they should leave now. The two orderlies release him and I reach my hand out to the man in the wrist restraints.
"Mr. Walker, Dr. Oliver Thredson." After a small hesitation, he extends his hand as much as possible in his restraints and accepts my hand in a firm handshake.
"All right if I call you Kit?" I ask as I make my way back to the seat that I vacated.
"Sure." Kit replies as he too takes a seat, he places himself in the seat cross from me with little grace and unfolds his legs.
"Seems unreasonable to me that a man should be denied the right to smoke." I say as I extend my gold plated lighter to him.
One cigarette and a few moments later I push down on the ignition and the flame releases from within the lighter. I lean back and rest my elbow on the edge of the table before taking a long pull form my cigarette.
"Do you know why I'm here, Kit?" I ask, staring intently at him.
"You're the headshrinker the courts sent to see if I'm crazy." Kit says in a tone that I don't enjoy.
"If you say I am, they leave me here to rot, and if you say I'm not, they put me on trial, and then fry me." He continues.
"Trouble is..." He leans towards me as if he were telling a secret. "I'm not crazy. And I didn't kill those ladies." He shakes his head.
"What about your wife?" I ask, leaning a fraction closer and take another pull from my cigarette.
"Alma's not dead." He says, shaking his head once again, as if he's trying to convince himself. "That body didn't have a head."
"None of the bodies had heads, Kit." I tell him softly. He shuts his eyes tightly and lowers his head. I raise my hand to take another drag before beginning again, "Initially, you told police that you were-"
"I know what I said!" He shouts. I grit my teeth as I am cut off by Kit's outburst.
"But it wasn't Alma." Kit continues in a lower voice. I nod my head slightly, encouragingly. "See, I know that now." He continues,"'Cause I'm starting to remember." I tilt my head to the side, intrigued. "And I saw her. After they took us, she was alive." His lips tremble slightly.
"They?" I inquire as I glance down to my notes, I hear the sound of the doors being opened once again.
"The men from outer space?" I finish as I look behind Kit to the door where I spot one of the guards, Frank I believe, escorting a small girl with stark white braids into the room.
"They have her." Kit says, attempting to regain my attention. I smile, patronizingly at him before I look back to the girl.
"I'm sure they do, Kit." I take another pull from my diminishing cigarette and lean back in my seat as Kit storms away. "I'm sure they do." I say quietly to myself as I watch the guard smile down at the girl and gently place a hand on her shoulder. This has my attention; no one is gentle around here. Briarcliff is a harsh and brutal place.
I exhale slowly and watch as the guard hands the girl an old, grubby, brown stuffed bear, a faded blue ribbon is tied in what I assume to have been neat bow when the stuffed bear was new and one of its black button eyes has come undone and now hangs slightly askew. Small fingers close softly around one of the bear's arms and she smiles up at the guard as he pats her head before turning and leaving with his companion.
The small girl holds the bear in a tight, yet gentle, grip. She stares down at it lovingly and strokes her tiny fingers over the tattered ear of the bear before tucking it into her arms as she folds them across her chest and glides over to a worn, red, velvet covered chair a few feet from where I am perched. She turns, facing me now, her calves touching the cushion of the chair where it has slid off a few inches, before placing the bear on the low table between us and bracing her hands on the rests of the chair. She lifts both her legs, the slippers on her feet slide off, supported by her arms now, and folds herself into the worn seat before lightly snatching the bear off the table and placing it in her lap.
Her abnormally colored hair is long, longer than any I have seen in this place, the braids curl up slightly and rests on the cushion of the chair. She has a slight build but is also equipped with supple curves, made visible by the tension in the material of her dress. She's not quite as grimy as the others, there are only a few spots where her creamy white skin is covered, though I'm not sure if that is because she's bathed recently or she just doesn't get the opportunity to get dirty. Her skin is so smooth and flawless, I wonder, idly, if it is as soft as it looks. Her obvious youth suggests that her warm flesh could be covered in soft, downy like, hairs. Like Donna Burton's was, soft and fuzzy, like milky white a peach.
I take on last pull from my cigarette before I lean forward and press the tip into the ashtray. The girl raises her head at my movements and I'm met with the sight of her face. Her irises are the oddest shade of purple, a small nose, a full set of lips and a dainty chin; her eyebrows are almost invisible suggesting that the color of her hair is natural. Her wide amethyst eyes lock on me and her head tilts to the side in a curious manner, as I lean back in my chair and slide another cigarette from the pack. I place the filter of the cigarette between my lips and tilt the pack towards her and my head towards the pack, offering her the contents.
Her forehead scrunches slightly, eyebrows furrowed, as she bites into her lip before shaking her head slowly.
"It's the 1960's , everyone smokes." I say as I tuck the pack into the pocket of my shirt. I bring my lighter up, press down on the ignition and light the tip, the smoke rises, and I inhale deeply. The girl across from me tilts her head again, an endearing habit, and stares at me for a moment before looking down to the bear in her lap.
"You're wasting your time; she doesn't have what you're looking for." A woman with stringy blonde hair that's shaved on one side says as she practically throws herself into the chair that Kit was sitting in.
"That's Gabriel. You see, she's the reason sister Jude won't open a children's ward." The woman laughs harshly and wiggles her fingers towards the girl, Gabriel, mockingly.
"Her mommy dropped her off here like she was dropping off the trash." The woman continued to cackle, the sound was grinding on my brain.
My eyes drift over to where the girl sat only to find the chair empty. My eyes seek her out, I crane my head around, searching.
"She ditched. She can't handle the truth." The woman stretches out in the seat.
"She can't handle a lot of things." She drags her hands up her chest and cups her breasts. "But I can. C'mon Doc, don't you want to play a little?"
I pull my papers together into a neat stack and retrieve my briefcase from the floor.
"I'm sorry, miss…" I trail off. "Shelley. But I'm sure Sister Jude would refer to me as the whore." It clicks.
"Ah, the nymphomaniac." I say and allow my eyes to roam the room again. I spot the girl standing beside a pinheaded patient, her small fingers fuss over the ribbon tied into the sparse amount of hair the Pinhead has, before stroking her head affectionately and walking out of the room.
"Well, as insightful as this conversation has been. I really must go." I rise from my seat and re-button my suit jacket before I pick up my briefcase and make my way the door.
GPOV
I walk along side Sister Jude as we make our way towards the Foyer.
"Tell me, how is this day treating you, Gabriel?" Sister Jude asks, "And where on earth did you get that filthy thing from?" She finishes as she points to the stuffed bear.
"Frank." I reply and shrug my shoulders, "And as to your previous question, this is one of the good days, I suppose." I think for a moment before I continue, "Shelley is spreading lies about me again, but that's nothing new."
"Lies? What fashion of lies is it today?"
"Just her usual petty blows at my origins Sister Jude, I assure you."
We round the corner and continue down the last hallway.
"Sister Jude?" I turn to see the man from the common room, and the halls before that.
"I'm Doctor Oliver Thredson." He continues as he strides up beside Sister Jude.
"Ah, the court-appointed psychiatrist." She says in recognition, "You've seen our killer of women, I trust."
I keep my eyes on the floor ahead of me as I quicken my steps to keep pace with them.
"So what's it going to be? We gonna spare the taxpayers the expense of a trial or will I have a bed opening up?" Sister Jude asks and I fall back slightly and allow them to go through the doorway before the security door first.
"I haven't made a determination yet." Doctor Thredson replies as he opens the door for Sister Jude and then waits for me to enter as well.
Once I enter the Foyer, Doctor Thredson falls back into step with Sister Jude
"Might we speak privately about the conditions here?" He asks.
"Conditions? What conditions might those be?" Sister Jude's voice holds warning as she glides towards the stairway.
"In just the short time that I've been here, I have witnessed appalling things." Doctor Thredson starts, ignoring the warning, "Abuse, malpractice." He lists.
"Candidly, I'm shocked." He finishes as I join Sister Jude on the steps.
"It's a madhouse, Doctor. What did you expect?" She asks, leaning towards him slightly.
"I expected some form of treatment, therapy!" Doctor Thredson replies hotly, "Sister, your hospital still administers electroshock therapy to treat homosexuality, it's barbaric. Behavior modification is the current standard." He finishes, his voice lowering slightly.
Ah, Lana, it was you being so noisy? Naughty girl, I smile at my tough.
"Tomato, "tomahto"." Sister Jude says lightly as she starts climbing the stairs, only to turn back and approach the Doctor. "You know, Doctor Thredson" She starts as she moves back in front of him, "let me remind you, your job here is to write a recommendation to the court regarding the sanity of one patient." She finishes, holding a single finger up to emphasize her point.
"So I suggest you do your job and let me do mine." Sister Jude, always one for the dramatics.
The door at the top of the stairs open, I see Sister Mary Eunice standing there peering down the stairs at us.
"Now if you'll excuse me, there's another unfortunate family who requires our care." And with that, she starts up the steps.
I turn to look at Doctor Thredson and find his eyes already resting on mine. I smile slightly, look away from his eyes, and sway, unsure if I should follow Sister Jude or not, she's obviously busy now. I look down and bring my unoccupied hand up to press the tip on my thumb into my lips.
The sharp intake of breath causes me to snap my eyes back to him. His own eyes have deepened, almost smoldering as they stay focused on me.
"Gabriel, dear?" Sister Mary Eunice's voice draws my gaze away from Doctor Thredson and to her.
"Yes, Sister?" I ask softly, ignoring the shifts in Doctor Thredson's breathing patterns.
"Did you need something?" She asks, "Was Sister Jude taking you somewhere?"
"No, Sister Mary Eunice. I was merely accompanying Sister Jude to her office, but I suppose she is busy now." I trail off slightly, pushing the pad of my thumb into my mouth and against the roof, "If it's not too much trouble," I start, my words slurring slightly as they work to escape my occupied orifice, "May I put this in my room?" I ask as I lift the bear in my hand slightly higher for her inspection.
"Has Sister Jude approved this?" She asks nervously.
I nod my head, "It's from Frank." I say.
"Well then, I don't see why not!" She exclaims happily, "You go right ahead."
"Thank you, Sister." I say, turn, and walk down the steps and across the Foyer. I glance back to see Doctor Thredson thundering up the stairs and Sister Mary Eunice trailing after him.
After placing my bear into my room, I wander through the halls for the better part of three hours, one could get lost within these walls if they didn't know them as well as I do. I slip through Foyer door, lean my back against one of the pillars before the stairs before sliding down to the ground, the cold stone bleeds through my sweater, and close my eyes. I attempt to piece together why Doctor Thredson would look at me as he had, I hadn't meant to upset him if that was the cause. My thoughts wander and I lose myself within my mind.
The sound of metal against metal rouses me and I shoot up from my prone position, I peak around the pillar and see the night had fallen around me. A tall man is assisting another man form the black car. I don't dwell on this, I need to be inside. I slide through the doors as soundlessly as I can, but the telltale sound of the door shutting draws attention. I flush and look down, fidgeting slightly.
"Gabriel, what were you doing out there?" Sister Jude's harsh voice inquires. I flinch and inhale deeply before I answer.
"I'm sorry, Sister Jude. I had gone out hours ago and lost track of time." I reply nervously.
I hear her sigh and move across the Foyer, her hand coils around my upper arm and she pulls slightly so that I'll follow.
"Why don't you go and find Frank, ask him to take you to be early. Hmm?" She suggests, but I know there's not really an option.
"Yes, Sister Jude. I apologize again." I say softly and slip through the doors leading towards the common room.
Frank is leaning in the hall when I approach.
"Frank?" I inquire to draw his attention.
"Yes?"
"Sister Jude said that I could go to bed early tonight, I'm feeling rather tired. Would you please take me?" I ask softly.
"'Course." He says and starts down the proper hall.
The screams are loud enough to reach me as I lay in bed; multiple voices carry on for hours. I wonder, idly, if the others can hear.
A loud buzz fills the air and suddenly, my room is illuminated in red. I sit up and stare at my door as if begins to shake on its hinges and creaks open as a siren sounds. I ease from my bed and walk slowly to the door before peering out into the hall. I hear whispers, Grace and Miss Winters, your chance for what exactly? The pair runs by my room, Miss Winter's hand grasping Grace's fore arm.
I stare after them for a moment before walking down the hall to Pepper's room. This will be trouble, and trouble is exactly what I don't need, I'm positive that my thoughtlessness earlier this evening will have earned myself some lashes. If you misbehave, you are punished. I lead Pepper back to her bed and pull the blanket over her shoulders before leaving the room and pushing the door firmly until I hear the lock click into place . I walk back across the hall and slip into my room as I hear someone scream for help, that the prisoner is escaping, I pause momentarily before stepping into my room and pulling the door shut behind me. More trouble than it's worth.