Chapter 2: Familiar
Emily sat on the couch next to Howard as he held his arm out for her while she mended a small hole that he ripped on his uniform.
"I would have done this myself but I only have about thirty minutes to get to the airport," Howard explained.
"Don't worry about it Howard," Emily responded as she finished off the area. "There you go," she announced, cutting the excess thread and then standing up to go put the needle away in her kit.
"Thanks Emily," he replied, smiling up to her.
"Your welcome."
Howard stood up and started for the door. "Well, I guess I should get going now, I have to head down to Denver in a few minutes," he informed her.
"Have a good trip," she responded.
As Howard went for the doorknob, the door opened and Bob entered the room. He looked worn out and somewhat edgy. "Hi Emily, hey Howard," he greeted as he set his suitcase down at the door and then headed over to the couch and took a seat.
"I would live to stay and chat Bob, but I gotta go to Denver tonight," Howard mentioned. "So I guess I'll just talk to you later instead." With that, he headed out and closed the door behind him. Right now, he was kind of glad to be able to leave right now. With the way that Bob looked, he knew that he would be in no mood for talking, and he didn't feel like irritating anyone right now.
Emily looked over to Bob with concern. "Bad day?" she asked him from the table.
Bob looked to her. "I never want to step foot in that place again Emily. You know what three group sessions can do to someone in there? They drive you crazy," he explained to her.
"Would you have to join the people that drove you to insanity?" she joked.
"That's not funny," Bob quickly replied.
Her smile instantly faded. "I guess that answers my question," Emily stated, slightly taken aback from the tone of irritation in his voice. "Would you like a drink?" she offered, heading to the kitchen because she already knew what his answer was going to be.
"Please," he responded, looking back forward.
Emily got him his usual drink and joined him on the couch as she handed it to him. "I thought you liked your job," she said, curling up next to him and putting her arm around him.
Bob took a sip of his drink. "I like my job, in my office, talking to my patients," he explained to her and then took another sip. He then looked to his wife, seeing that she still didn't quite get it yet. "It would be like if you went to another school and had to teach kids that you knew would most likely never get anywhere anyways, and then on top of that, you, you couldn't actually teach them. All you could do is just hand them the books and tell them good luck while half of them are glaring at you and the other half are sobbing uncontrollably," he told her, hoping that she would get the connection.
Emily looked to him with disgust. "I would quit," she replied and then sat back, taking her arm back.
"Well, that's the difference between a psychiatrist and psychologist. I talk to the people that need help, and they talk to the people, watch, monitor and prescribe meds to those who are legitimately mentally ill, and most of them stuck that way for the rest of their lives," he informed her.
Emily watched as he finished his drink, wondering exactly what he saw or heard today that bothered him so much. There had to have been something that upset him, not just the place and not just the type of people he was working with.
She took the empty glass and carried it over to the kitchen sink. "Well, at least you don't have to go back there," she mentioned, hoping that it might help him a little.
"I hope not," he sighed. He then stood up and pulled the picture out of his pocket, carelessly tossing it onto the table. "I'm going to go get changed before dinner," he announced.
"All right honey," Emily responded, her eyes falling to the item on the table. She briefly glanced up to the door before heading over and inspecting the object.
"Bob?" she asked, forming a smirk as she looked over the picture.
"Yes?" he responded, coming to the doorway as he finished buttoning his shirt.
"Where did you get this?" she implored. Her eyes going through the faces on the photo, stopping over each of them.
"One of the patients handed that to me. Told me that they never wanted to see that thing again," he dryly answered. He watched her, wondering why she was so interested in that picture. It was just a picture.
"My fifth grade class picture," she stated more to herself, softly laughing.
"Really?" Bob asked, now growing curious. He went over and stood beside her.
"Yeah," she answered and then pointed to the young girl with dark hair sitting on the bottom row of the steps in the left corner. "The unhappy girl right there with the frilly dress and bow in her hair? That's me."
Bob looked down and studied the picture for a moment. "Didn't like that day?" he joked.
Emily looked up to him and smiled. "I didn't like dressing up, especially for an entire day," she explained.
Bob took a second and laughed at his wife in the picture, but quickly, the words from the woman earlier went through his head. "How, uh, how well do you remember these people?" he questioned, turning serious a bit too quickly for Emily's liking.
Emily shrugged and turned the picture over to the other side. "Well, I ended up going to high school with most of these people," she explained, eyeing the names.
It was weird to her how many people that she had instantly remembered when she read the last names. She pointed to the girl next to her, she was a lot happier than she herself had been on that day. Her long light hair, also with a bow in it that matched her dress. "That's Erin Collins. We actually used to spend a lot of time together for a while there," she informed him.
Bob's eyes quickly moved to his wife with concern. Erin's words earlier, how Jeremy had hurt her. "Could you by any chance point out Jeremy?" he questioned, covering the fact that he was nervous. Although, the fact that Emily was still smiling did calm him. She couldn't be remembering something all too traumatic if she was still happy.
Emily looked up to him, perplexed. "Why Jeremy?" she asked. She hadn't thought of that boy in years, let alone even mention his name. "Was that who was there today?" she questioned.
"The most that I can tell you is that he was mentioned. I was just curious," he explained, looking down to picture.
Emily sighed and looked down to the picture. "He's actually right next to Erin," she told him, pointing to him.
Bob eyed him. The young boy with dark, messy hair. His face held no expression, yet his eyes seemed dark. "You, you didn't hang around with him too often, did you Emily?" he implored, looking up to her from the picture.
Emily smirked as she went to look to him. She was planning on making some joke about him being jealous of her past boyfriends, but as soon as she saw the concern in his eyes, the smirk quickly faded and was replaced with the same concern. "Not too often. No one did," she answered. "Why?"
Bob watched her for a moment. He knew that Erin was in the sanitarium for a reason, and that she might not be completely there, but he had to make sure that Emily had not been hurt. If Jeremy was the one to send Erin there, he wanted to make sure that Emily hadn't been hiding anything. "Again, just, um, just curious," he replied.
Emily nodded, even though she was still confused as to what was going on with her husband. She looked back down to the picture and studied the faces. The blonde girl at the opposite end of the steps from her and Erin, Julia Cotton, the girl with the bluest eyes and blondest hair, it almost made her look ghostly in the picture. Next to her, Ruth Reynolds, another blonde, but not nearly as light as Julia's, she always looked a little sad. Even in the picture, she was staring down out of the corners of her eyes. In the middle next to Jeremy, Greg Peters, the class clown, upset in the picture because they made him take off his hat that he always wore. Up in the next row, Mary Higgins, dark blonde hair in pigtails and always smiling, one of the sweetest people around. Down the row about three people over, Henry Kline, the smartest boy in the class, the one who was suspicious of most things.
She remembered most of these people. There were faces that she couldn't place yet, but the longer she looked at it, the more and more she could remember.
Looking up, she was about to try and ask Bob who it was that he talked to today, but he had already returned to the bedroom.
Her eyes went back down to the picture as she thought back to those days.
(Emily, Erin, and Mary walked down the street on their way home from school.
"You've seriously never been camping before?" Emily questioned, completely shocked, looking to her friend as if she had to be joking.
Mary hugged her books to her chest and shook her head. "Nope," she replied, laughing at Emily's reaction.
While the other two were talking, Erin stopped and looked to the house across the street from them. There wasn't really anything unusual about it when it came to house looked. It was what was inside of it. "Hey," she called to others.
Emily and Mary stopped and turned back to see what she wanted. "Yes?" Emily responded before following her gaze to the house. "Oh," she softly whispered in realization.
"I don't like this place. Let's keep going," Mary insisted.
Emily looked to her and smiled. "Don't be silly, it's just a house. Besides, Jeremy never hurt anyone," she stated and then went back to Erin, who's eyes were locked on the place.
"You ever get curious?" Erin implored with a smirk on her face, her eyes still on the house.
"Sometimes," Emily answered.
"Well I don't! Now please let's leave," Mary begged, getting more and more freaked out by the minute.
Emily looked over and laughed as she saw Mary nervously watching the house. "Let's go before she has a heart attack over this place," she insisted.
Erin stared to the house for another moment and then went ahead and followed Emily and Mary.)
Emily just carelessly tossed the picture back down on the table. Her eyes distantly staring down towards the photo, but not really at the photo. She hadn't thought about any of that stuff for a long time, and now, what she couldn't quite recall now, disturbed her.