Unhinge - Calia Read Page 0,5
anger and sadness.
I can’t get enough of her smile.
I make quick work of changing her diaper and dress her in a washed sleeper. When I’m finished, I swaddle her, grab one of the bottles on the desk, and sit down in the rocking chair. As I watch her feed, I softly hum a nursery rhyme. She always stares up at me with these incredibly bright blue eyes. I have her attention and trust, and that’s the most important thing in the entire world. I love these moments. When her small body presses against mine, I can hear her little heart thumping away. It always calms me down. When she’s done, I hold her against my shoulder and give her back a few gentle taps.
Alice arrives moments later. “Ready?”
No, not at all. Evelyn hasn’t burped. A baby needs to burp or she’ll be gassy. But instead of saying this, I bite my tongue and reluctantly stand up. “Yes.”
Alice watches me coldly. She looks at me as if I’m vile.
“Since you overslept, you’re going to have to skip your rec room time.”
“Why?”
“Because you have to see your doctor.”
My life here has an order. And that order has never been broken: Breakfast. Dayroom. Lunch. Therapy. Dinner. Back to my room for some free time and all too soon the nurses are walking down the halls, handing out medications and announcing lights-out.
It should get old. Real fast. But it’s these moments that break up the monotony of this place. It keeps us sane.
“I want to go to the dayroom.”
Everyone else here calls it the rec room. Besides meals and group therapy, it’s the only time that male and female patients are blended together.
“Well, not today. You missed your allotted rec time because you were getting your beauty sleep.”
“I wasn’t aware I had a schedule.”
“Just come on.”
Stubbornly, I stand my ground. “No.”
“You don’t have an option. You’re going to see your doctor.”
The look in Alice’s eyes suggests that she has no problem dragging me down the hall. No problem at all.
Never before have I crossed Alice; I’ve never had a reason to. But today she’s ruining my routine. My mouth opens but I’m interrupted before I can speak.
“Look! It’s the Memory Woman!” Reagan, who’s walking circles around the new nurse, skips over to me.
“Reagan, what are you doing?” Alice says in that no-nonsense tone.
That’s all most patients would need to hear to pull themselves together. But not Reagan. She is Fairfax’s resident bad girl. She arrived two months ago and already holds the record for the most escape attempts. She’s up to six.
She looks so innocuous with her green doe eyes and auburn hair that hangs down to her waist in a tangled mess. But there’s a wild look in her eyes, like she’s lost and has no idea where she is. Sometimes she wears hospital gowns with stains on the front, but after a few days the nurses make her change into sweats. To finish off her look, she has to wear a blue wristband with ELOPEMENT RISK written in bold, black letters.
Today she’s wearing a hospital gown.
She pulls out a packet of cigarettes and taps the bottom of the package against her palm. She pulls a cigarette out. I stare at her with blatant shock. So does Alice.
Reagan just smirks as she reveals a lighter. She’s starting to look less like a patient and more like a magician. How the hell did she get a lighter past the nurses?
Right before she lights up, she smiles and takes the cigarette out of her mouth. “Forgive me. I’m so rude.” She extends the same cigarette to me. “Do you guys want a smoke?”
No one says a word.
“Alice? Mommy Dearest? Nobody?” Reagan glances at Evelyn. “What about you, little baby?”
Finally, Alice comes to her senses. “Give me those.” She snatches the cigarette pack and lighter away from Reagan and stuffs them into her pocket. “You know you can’t smoke inside.”
“Says who?”
Alice gestures toward the nurses’ station. Taped on the glass shield: SMOKING IS PROHIBITED INSIDE.
Everyone knows that smoking is only allowed after lunch and dinner. And it’s always done outside, in a small section, monitored by the nurses. Inside, it’s considered contraband. Reagan knows that.
“Hm. This is the first time I’m seeing this.” She turns to Alice. “Are you sure that wasn’t just posted?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” she snaps.
“Whoa.” Reagan lifts her hands in surrender. “Easy, Cujo. There’s no reason to yell.”
“You need to follow the rules like everyone else, Reagan,” says the blond nurse. She seems