REALITY TOO
A shaky Joan reached for the light on the nightstand. The light revealed a small, institutional room that was brightened by some of her personal touches. A wire mesh covered the only window, but Joan knew the door was unlocked. This was a minimum security facility.
Joan rose from the bed, slipped on a robe and poured herself a glass of water. Joan looked out the window at the thick blanket of snow, courtesy of a Chicago winter. A brief knock on the door was followed by the entry of the night nurse.
"Joan, are you okay? I saw your light come on."
"I had another one of those dreams."
"I'm sorry Joan, I know how much they disturb you. Dr. Daniels did say the dreams would be the occasional side effect of the medication."
Joan nodded. "And it's better to suffer the occasional dream than to be lost in that world of Arcadia every waking moment."
"And what did Dr. Daniels say to do after these dreams?"
"To recenter myself by facing the harshness of my real existence."
"Start with me."
"Okay, you're Mrs. Grace Polk, a nurse who started at this facility a week after I was admitted, after my mental breakdown at 15. You're 30 years old, and we did not go to high school together, and you certainly were never involved with my younger brother."
"And why is that?"
"Because Luke died at 14 of leukemia. 'He needs iron,' indeed."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, one of the things Dr. Daniels pointed out was that in the fantasy world I was lost in for so many years, I would leave myself hints to remind me of my real life. In one of those fantasies, Goth Kid told me Luke needed iron. In reality, Luke was at first thought to be anemic until the leukemia diagnosis came."
"And what about the rest of your family?"
Joan paused and then began the litany. "My Dad was killed when I was three years old in a shoot-out with a bank robber. My brother Kevin did suffer a terrible injury in a car crash, but he was alone, drunk and totally at fault when he rammed his car into a pole. He's paralyzed from the neck down, and will spend the rest of his life in an extended care facility."
"And what about Annie?"
"She's my half-sister and she was two when I first came in here. She's eight now, and her father is Jeremy, my Mom's second husband."
"And what's special about tomorrow?"
"It's Christmas and I'll be getting my first day pass since coming in here."
"And now for the big question: do you know why you are here?"
Joan sighed. "I was experiencing that when I woke from my dream. Cute-Boy was going through his usual list that proved he knew me, and getting everything wrong. My age, Dad's birthdate, Eleanor Monroe-whoever that is-was not my grandmother. She was Maria Martinelli, and had an Italian accent thick enough to cut with a knife. Green is not my favorite color, I'm not afraid of clowns and I put salt on watermelon, not cantaloupe."
"And Jim Dawes? I know this is hard, Joan."
Joan's voice trembled. "He didn't break my heart in the 8th grade. I didn't meet him until freshman year, and I knew right away that he was a dangerous creep. I rejected him the only time he asked me out. Then, the day of Luke's funeral, I was alone in the cemetery's chapel, praying. Jim Dawes found me, knocked me to the floor and... raped me. My Mom found me there, unconscious."
Joan paused, battling with this horrible memory that she so wanted to suppress. No, that's the path that took her to the Arcadia nightmare. Bravely, she forced herself to deal with every painful detail.
"My inability to cope with so many tragedies in my life, especially the last one, caused my mind to shut down. I've spent six years in this place lost in my fantasy world. Then, three months ago, a new medication helped me regain a hold on reality. I was surprised I had incorporated so many of the people here into my Arcadia experience."
"For instance, Dr. Daniels isn't your mean vice-principal, Gavin Price."
Joan chuckled. "A good example,"
"Are you ready to go back to bed?"
Joan nodded and Nurse Polk helped Joan off with her robe and tucked her into bed like a little girl.
"Goodnight Joan."
"Goodnight Mrs. Polk."
With the light turned off and the door closed, Joan shut her eyes and relaxed. Time passed, but sleep was elusive. Really, how could anyone sleep in this heat and humidity, not to mention the racket caused by all those crickets and frogs... Wait, in a Chicago winter?
Desperately, Joan didn't want to open her eyes.
TBC
