I look at Mr. Simmons for a good moment or two before switching my glances around the room. "Where am I? This isn't the playground." I hear crying in the corner. Sure enough, there is Miriam in the corner… smiling and crying tears of joy…? Okay. Something is definitely wrong here. I sit up but Mr. Simmons gestures for me to lay back down. I swat away his hand and I stare at Miriam.
"No, darling, it's not. You're not at the playground anymore." She smiled through her tears and it's weird. For the first time ever, she does not seem intoxicated. Am I in a hospital? I look around more. Sure enough, I am fashioning a polka dotted gown and there is a plain white blanket covering my legs. On top of that one are two larger pink blankets. I look to my left, there's a nightstand, and flowers. Why are there flowers? And why are they almost dead?
"Oh. Wow. Eugene must have hit me harder than I thought."
"Who?" Mr. Simmons asks. In the heat of the moment I had actually forgotten he was there. When I turn to him I notice his attire is not his normal white t-shirt and green sweater vest. Instead he is decked out in white doctor's robes. I don't know what kind of trick they are trying to play, but it's not funny.
"Oh I see. Harold must have put you up to this."
"Is she okay? Is she back?" Big Bob asks. He is actually hugging Miriam. This isn't right. I'm dreaming. I take my hand and I slap myself in the face trying to wake myself up. The three of them lunge toward me as if I had done something drastic.
"She is going to need to go in for some sort of psychoanalysis." Mr. (well I guess Dr.) Simmons says.
There's a knock on the door and some woman with curly red hair comes in.
"Oh Phoebe, good you're here." Mr. Simmons practically applauses. That's not Phoebe though. Probably just a coincidence. "Can you bring these papers to the front desk for me?"
"Bringing!" A cheerfully soft voice chirps. She definitely sounds like MY Phoebe. She starts to walk out of the room but as soon as she reaches the door she stops and turns. "Also, Helga's visitor is here. "
"Who did they send this week?" Mr. Simmons asks.
"I believe it's Arnold this time."
"Okay. I'm going to give Helga some time alone with her parents first." Mr. Simmons says. Phoebe nods and they walk out.
Miriam rushes towards me as if she were a normal mother and I just escaped death. She hugs me tightly and I sit there awkwardly patting her back. I want to assure her that it's okay, even though I have absolutely no clue what is going on. I figure as long as I speed up whatever it is that's going on here, the faster I get to see Arnold. I can't believe that he is visiting me. He is actually visiting me.
"Baby, we thought we lost you." Miriam holds my shoulders and looks into my eyes. I stare back, just completely confused.
"It was just a kickball."
"Oh, no, baby, I don't think you remember what happened."
"What are you talking about?"
"It was your first day of preschool. Your father and I had just sat down because Olga was begging us to listen to her piano piece AGAIN. She wasn't very good back then. We had tried telling her that we needed to go, but every time we started to leave she began to throw a tantrum. You had to walk to the bus alone. And I am so sorry for that. I ran to the door and I saw you board the bus. Ignoring Olga, I ran out to the street, but I was too late. I jumped into the car and tried to follow the bus. You got off at the wrong stop because when I caught up to the bus about 4 stops later, you were gone. From what I hear, you had crossed the street to preschool and some little boy had offered his umbrella. A little girl had found your lunch box back on the other side of the street. When you went to get it, you forgot to look both ways and you were hit by a car. You've been in an on and off coma ever since. You were never quite you though, you always thought you were somewhere else. This is the first time that you have acknowledged that you were in a different location." Miriam tells me. I hear the story but it's not what I remember.
"I always remembered it as you guys favoring Olga because she was perfect. A concert pianist at 15."
"Her concert was nothing more than a high school band concert."
"But the spelling bees…"
"She won one spelling bee. She must have about six or seven trophies for effort."
"Where am i?"
"Hillsdale home for the Mentally Ill."
"I don't believe any of this. How do I get out?"
"Helga, baby. No. It's okay."
"No it's not, Miriam. I am trapped inside a Mental Hospital. I want to get out. I need to see my friends." I yell. Then I remember. "I need to see Arnold."
"If that's what you really want." Miriam leaves with Big Bob staring through the small glass window to the outside. After a minute he too, exits the room.
Someone calls Arnolds name and he responds, his footsteps trailing on the tile floor. It really is a relief to hear Arnold's voice after all this time. And to see his face again, oooo. I see his sleeve enter the doorway first. Then his pant leg and then OH MY GOD!