Shattered 8

It was awkward in the extreme, for Norman-- but it was a discomfort he was more than willing to bear, in this case. He had always hated being stared at, ever since he was a kid. At school he tried to blend into the background and not be noticed. His shy ways drew taunts of 'Mama's boy', or got him cruelly teased for stuttering; the sort of unwanted recognition that echoes through a lifetime. Then later it changed to the prying eyes of doctors, or the hounding by police officials. And now, when he thought he had finally managed to escape society's notice, he was the subject of the curious gazes of Laney O'Donnell's 'public'.

Yet, all he had to do is look up at Laney and he'd start smiling again. It wasn't so bad to be on display, in her company.

"Don't worry." she whispered to him. She even remembered the painful shyness of his youth and could tell just how uncomfortable he was. "They're probably all wondering if you are my husband!" It was a playful observation, and coming from her, not malicious in the least. "What was the name of your motel, again?"

"The Bates Motel." he whispered.

"Ah!" She felt foolish, having forgotten it after all this time, but this served to remind her. Another young fan approached with her favorite stuffed toy, and Laney didn't miss a beat. "Well, hello there! What a beautiful baby you have!"

There wasn't much time for real conversation, but the intermittent banter led to the discovery that Norman was staying at the same hotel as Laney. When at last the crowd had wandered away, Sandy Chandler was there fielding questions from a local news reporter. Laney pretended to collapse in happy exhaustion on the table.

"That was v-very kind of you." Norman remarked as they rose to their feet. "You were o-only supposed to be here until 4." The wall clock at the counter read 4:45.

"Well, all these people make an effort to get here and I can't very well send them away. Besides, I'm the one who makes them late."

Ms. Chandler was there suddenly, demanding her associate's attention.

"I've called for the car. Don't forget you've got that 8 o'clock meeting with the writer from Child's Play."

"I'm not allowed to forget." Laney sighed. "Oh, Sandra, this is Norman Bates, a very dear old friend." She latched on to Norman's hand fondly, to his pleasant surprise.

"We've met." the agent smirked. "And I hate to interrupt your stroll down memory lane, but Ms. O'Donnell needs to be getting back to the hotel. She's on a tight schedule."

Norman decided he definitely did not like this person. She was loud and pushy, and maybe that was her job, but he found her completely unpleasant. He wrapped his fingers around Laney's, cementing the hold she had impulsively taken.

"Oh, Sandy, not now! You take the car and the boxes. Norman and I are going to walk." As an afterthought, she looked up at him apologetically. "If that's alright with you?"

"Sure." he smiled.

Three blocks passed quickly, even though they had taken a slow pace. Hardly stammering now, Norman held his books with both hands and felt more inclined to conversation.

"So, what brings you to Oakland?" Laney urged. "Are you living here now?"

"I don't think I could ever live in a city. Well, I mean, I never have."

"Are you visiting, or on business?"

"Visiting." He smirked and looked at the people on the sidewalk ahead. "I came to see you, actually."

Her expression was one of genuine surprise.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm serious. I just found out yesterday that you were coming to California on a book signing-- what do they call it? Tour? I guess it sounds pretty silly."

"Totally sweet and typically Norman!" She giggled, just the way he remembered it, and it made him smile even broader. "You know, you were the inspiration for one of my first picture books." It was now Norman whose face betrayed surprise. In fact, he felt warm and realized he was blushing. "The Very Special Smile! I never forgot it. Or you. Why didn't you ever answer my letters?"

"Letters?"

"It broke my heart, you know. I must have written you three times a week for awhile."

"I never got any letters." Norman seemed confused, until he remembered a lecture from his mother-- ages ago and out of the blue. It served to discourage all future attempts at trying to make friends; quite a blow for a lonely little boy. Her mind was starting to slip by then. His mother must have taken the letters, and probably read them. "Oh, Laney, I'm sorry. My m-mother. S-she must've kept them from me. I always wondered why you didn't write."

"That's just mean! Who could do that to a child?"

You'd be surprised.

"Do you still have the motel?"

"Not for a few years now. I ran it alone for awhile, but so many things happened….."

"I want to hear all about it! I suppose you're a married man by now, with a family."

"Not exactly. I guess you could call me a late bloomer. I got married just a couple of years ago, but it hasn't….worked out. In fact, we're in the process of… going our separate ways."

"Well, whoever she is, she's a fool to let you go. I've been widowed now for ten years. I can't believe you remembered me!" That was the girl he knew-- quick to jump from topic to topic without drawing a breath. They stopped at the last corner before the hotel and waited for the light. "Listen, I have that interview to do at 8 down in the hotel restaurant. Why don't we have dinner together, and you can tell me everything!"

"Alright."

Norman hadn't eaten all day, and since Laney said she was famished, they went directly to the restaurant when they reached the hotel. For two hours they sat, and laughed, and coyly skirted the subjects that each felt might be too awkward for dinner time chat.

"Do you remember when we fell into the swamp?" Laney could hardly talk, for laughing.

"I didn't fall in-- you pushed me!" Norman replied playfully.

"I did not! I slipped!"

"And you grabbed me on the way down. Mother was livid when she caught us---"

"Well, could you blame her? Two kids standing in their underwear in the laundry room? We thought we could wash our clothes before getting caught covered in mud!"

"And we would have gotten away with it too, if somebody didn't dump half a box of laundry soap in the machine."

At the time it was nothing to laugh about; Mrs. Bates over-reacted as she was prone to do in those days. There was such a scene that Laney's parents even thought about finding another motel, but she eventually came around so they would stay. She didn't consider a little girl as suitable companionship for her son, but their money was welcomed.

"Do you remember our time capsule?" Laney's eyes shined brightly at the memory. Norman set his silverware down and leaned his chin on clasped hands.

"Funny you should mention that." He grinned sleepily. "That's what started me really thinking about you, and looking for you on line. I'm going to be selling the property and so I went back for a last look, I'd guess you'd say. It's a wreck now, the motel, but you were the first-- and happiest-- memory that came up. So I decided to find our time capsule before it was lost forever."

"Oh Norman, that's so sweet!" She made a frown suddenly, in jest. "But it hasn't been 100 years."

No, but it sometimes feels like it.

The staff removed their empty plates, promising to return with coffee and dessert. When they had left, Laney pressed for details.

"Well? Did you find it?"

"Apparently, mayonnaise jars last forever. It was all there, pretty much the way we left it." He looked down shyly. "It's upstairs, in fact. I brought it with me in case…."

"Oh, I'd love to see it! Listen, I'm in 523-- the interview won't last more than 30 minutes-- maybe an hour if there's a lot of chat. Can you come up to my room about 9? And bring the jar! It's a suite, so we can hang out on the couch for awhile."

"Aren't you tired?"

"I'm have to be in a coma before I'd miss the chance to visit with you!"

"Then I'd love to, Laney."

The coffee and dessert arrived as predicted, but Norman seemed suddenly distracted. He looked down at his plate thoughtfully.

"What's wrong, Norman?"

"Nothing. Except there's something I have to tell you." He drew a deep breath and decided he'd better come clean. She was his friend and deserved that much. "I've spent a lot of time….in hospitals."

"What happened? Were you sick?"

"Not physically, no. I started having….blackouts. Mother apparently was not quite right and I guess I inherited her genes. When I was a teenager she used to…"

"You don't have to tell me if it's too hard for you."

"No, I want to tell you." I have to tell you. "She started losing her mind. And it affected me to the point where I started to….I started to slip a little, too."

Laney's expression was sympathetic and concerned. She reached across the table and rested her hand on his.

"Oh Norman, I'm so sorry."

"That's not even the worst part." he whispered. "I… did something unspeakable. Mother… died. Later, I started to black out and apparently I…hurt a few people." Somewhere in the neighborhood of 10...

Laney nodded and tried to lighten the mood by fixing her coffee with milk and sugar. She didn't want him to feel any more uncomfortable than he already, obviously, did and spoke without looking at him.

"Did these people die?"

Norman nodded briskly, and than realized she hadn't seen.

"Yes." He looked at the 'double chocolate' cake on his plate and picked up his fork in a tight fist. "I was put in a.. special hospital. Twice. About 20 years of my life was spent in those places. The woman who was my doctor the last time decided she wanted to marry me. Once I was well again, she did. Probably one of the reasons things haven't worked out."

"Isn't that illegal or something?" Laney grinned. "I mean, for a doctor and her patient to get romantic?"

"I should have seen it was mistake." Norman mumbled. "I mean, I'm better now-- I don't have black outs or anything-- it's not like I'm dangerous." This isn't going well. I sound like a moron. "Anyway, I've hardly had any life of my own, on my own. I went from Mother, to hospitals, to Connie-- there was a little time in between, I even had a job for awhile. But I guess I just wanted you to know." His eyes raised, almost imploringly, and caught her gaze. "Please don't think ill of me. I'm not 'like that' anymore. I hope I haven't frightened you."

Laney O'Donnell smiled and nodded, trying to put the facts in proper perspective.

"You're my friend, Norman." she assured. "We were happy kids together, and that's how it will always be with us. I believe what you've told me, and that your life has been difficult. But you're here now, doing well and obviously a free man-- except for, what was her name, Connie? We all make mistakes, and sometimes we can't help it, especially if we have some genetic 'issues'. All I can say is I am thrilled that you sought me out, and that we've got some time together. I've missed you so much!"

Is that all? You heard me, I'm sure-- I've killed people-- and you aren't judging me! You're still happy to see me!

"Of course, I'll understand if you feel differently now. About inviting me to your room."

"Are you nuts?" Laney covered her mouth the minute the words had escaped. Norman's response was to laugh out loud.

"Not anymore, they tell me."

Laney immediately composed herself and smirked.

"Norman, I would be highly insulted if you tried to change our plans now." She raised her coffee cup for a toast and he responded in kind. "Until I leave Oakland, I want to spend as much time as possible with you."

For the first time in ages-- perhaps in all his adult life-- Norman felt like a whole person; happy, safe, and sane. It wasn't like those early times with Connie, when he followed her lead and tried not to make waves. He could be himself with Laney, not worry that she was trying to diagnose, treat, or even use his condition against him. And he didn't want this feeling to ever end.