Unhinge - Calia Read Page 0,23
for forced. Unless you’re bleeding from the eyes or convulsing on the floor, you’re in the dayroom for movie night.
Everyone around me hushes up and watches Susan.
“The person who gets to choose tonight’s movie is…” Susan pulls out a name and lowers the bowl. “…Louise!”
When it had been Reagan’s turn, she’d chosen Girl, Interrupted. They made her choose again. Her next choice was Sybil.
Needless to say, Reagan never got to pick another movie again.
“Louise, what movie do you want to watch tonight?”
The older woman furiously rubs her hands together, thinking over the question as if this were the most important answer of her life. “The Sound of Music!” she finally says.
In the midst of soft claps and squeals of delight is Reagan loudly groaning. “That movie again? We’ve seen it, like, ten times! We get it. Julie Andrews can sing.”
The nurse rolls her eyes. “Doesn’t matter. It’s Louise’s turn to pick.”
“Then can I go to my room, please?”
“No.”
“I said please.”
“And I said no.”
Reagan slouches in her seat. Out of all the chairs to pick from, she chose the one on my right. For reasons beyond me, she seems to have latched on to me. Truthfully, it’s not all bad. It’s kind of nice to have someone to talk to in here.
You have your daughter! my mind hisses.
Instantly, I feel guilty and rub Evelyn’s back. Of course I have my daughter but sometimes it’s nice to speak to someone and have them talk back. I love Evelyn’s beautiful smile and chubby cheeks. I love how she looks at me as if I’m the center of her universe. I love it all, but I need to have just a small amount of adult interaction.
The nurse loads the DVD. While the beginning credits roll, she starts to hand out Styrofoam cups of popcorn. The lights turn off and obnoxious shushing sounds die out. Finally, everyone settles in to watch, but nothing, not even Julie Andrews and her lilting voice, can pull me out of reality. I feel Reagan’s eyes on me, but I also feel another set. Multiple times I’ve twisted in my chair, only to see no one.
“What are you doing?” Reagan asks.
I turn to face the TV. In my arms Evelyn makes a fuss. I give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Nothing.”
Reagan tosses a piece of popcorn in the air. She tilts forward and catches it with her mouth. “Oh, come on. If you’re going to lie, lie good. You could’ve said you were stretching.”
“If I did, would you have believed me?”
“No, but I would’ve admired you for your quick thinking.”
I smile and go back to watching the movie.
“How old are you?” Reagan asks bluntly.
Never have I seen someone jump so quickly from one subject to the next. I get whiplash having a conversation with her.
“It’s rude to ask someone how old they are,” I point out.
She throws another piece of popcorn, only this time it hits Amber, the girl sitting in front of us. She’s an anorexic who’s been here probably just as long as I have. She’s skinnier than ever and shows no signs of getting out of here.
“It’s only rude when the person is ancient,” Reagan shot back. “So…age?”
“Twenty-seven. How old are you?”
“Eighty-five,” she says deadpan. “I’m like the Curious Case of Benjamin Button.”
That makes me smile.
“I’m twenty-three,” she says seriously.
Her reply shocks me. Reagan doesn’t look a day over eighteen. Maybe it’s her build. Pale skin stretched over incredibly small bones. Or perhaps it’s her laugh. It’s a genuine sound, as if she steals from life all its pleasure and uses every last drop.
Without a doubt Reagan is crazy, but sometimes I wish I could have her personality. Just for a few seconds.
“Does the baby like the movie?” She throws another piece of popcorn. It ricochets off Amber’s head. Her skinny shoulders twitch and I know she’s seconds away from blowing up.
Cautiously, I stare at Reagan. “Quit calling her ‘the baby.’ Her name is Evelyn.”
Reagan holds her hands out in supplication. “My bad, my bad. Evelyn it is.”
I still don’t believe her and hold Evelyn just a bit tighter.
“Does ‘Evelyn’ like the movie?”
“She’s a baby. She doesn’t know what’s going on.”
“Now that is something I completely agree with you on,” she remarks.
She throws more popcorn and a few times it actually lands in her mouth. “You don’t have a lot of friends here, do you?”
“No.”
“Stick with me, Mommy Dearest. We can be the folie à deux of Fairfax.”
“What’s a folie à deux?”
Reagan turns and smiles