Judy held an empty container in front of Lena’s face.
“No, I’ve been eating your yogurt.”
“You don’t like key lime.” Judy smiled. It faltered. “Lena, honey. I think your dosage is too high.”
“I feel like they gave me the gas. And I want to lean my head on everything.” Lena laughed. It came out high and silly. She couldn’t stop laughing.
She stood up. Sat down. Tried to stand again, but her legs gave out. She hit her back on the chair’s seat. She tried to pull herself up, but her legs flopped and kicked. She moved her arms breaststroke style. People were yelling. Lena tried to tell them that they needed to ask her to smile, to say something complicated, to write something. People didn’t just fall. Her mouth refused to do what her brain said. It spoke only in gurgles and moans.
Charlie took her hands. “Are you okay?”
Lena’s head felt like someone was pushing it. She slapped at the area above it, but no one was there. Felt tears coming out of her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. She reached for her face to wipe away the wet, but Charlie grabbed her hands and kept them still.
Dr. Lisa bent over her. Some of the observers were pushing everyone back, some were taking feverish notes.
“I need help,” Lena meant to say, but it came out as “wrapping paper.”
19
Dr. Lisa and Smith showed Lena a picture. A few other people wearing lab coats watched. Lena stared at the picture: four legs, a bottom, a back. The name was on the tip of her tongue.
“It’s something you sit on,” Smith prompted.
“Froideur,” Lena tried. The word felt important.
Dr. Lisa told her to walk around the room. Lena waved her arms in big circles. “Washing machine, dude.”
“That’s not right,” Smith said.
He asked Lena to tell him something about her childhood. She told a story about one of her childhood best friends, Saturday. She and two other kids in the neighborhood learned how to sign because they liked Saturday and because they could say whatever they wanted. But the neighborhood parents made such a big deal about Lena and her friends being “good kids” that the whole situation became awkward, made them self-conscious about signing. It strained their friendship; it made Saturday think that they did this only to feel good about themselves, not to be friends with her. When her mom found out, she said, If you’re doing something good—and you’re enjoying it—don’t let other people spoil things for you. Try to remember this your entire life, if you can. It still took years to sort out all her feelings about how everything went down.
As Lena spoke earnestly, Dr. Lisa and Smith struggled to keep their expressions neutral. They kept glancing at each other. Lena heard her mouth saying “cheese” and knew she meant something else but couldn’t find the word. They seemed to understand the story at least a little, maybe because Smith was nodding as she spoke. Her mouth said, “lipstick.” She made a frustrated noise, tried to find the right word again. Her hands shook. Everyone in the room was smiling, but she understood it was because they were trying to reassure her. Lena covered her eyes. Blotted all the people out because they were making her more scared. The man in the lab coat said Lena needed to relax. He gave her a shot.
Lena woke up. Her body smelled sour, the stink rising from her mouth as if something inside her was dying. Her eyes adjusted to the low light. An observer was sitting in the chair next to her.
“You’re awake?”
The observer spoke to Lena in a low, patient voice. She explained that she was going to walk Lena around the facility. That the doctors thought it was best that she kept walking and moving. She helped Lena out of the bed.
Lena’s arm looped through the other woman’s. She kept her face slack. She still felt sleepy, but more like herself. Before, thinking for her felt like trying to read a page that had been scribbled over in black permanent marker.
They walked out into the hallway. The walls and tile flooring were the same white. Lena blinked against the bright. At the end of the hallway, there were two large open doors. Inside one room were two large cages. In one, a cat-sized rat holding a strawberry in its paws. As they got closer, Lena could hear it slurping and enjoying the strawberry, its large mouth smacking in delight. She was