The group meeting hadn’t lasted all that long, fifteen minutes at most. Not only did I not participate in the discussion, but I wasn’t even able to concentrate on what everybody else was saying. I was stymied by Darc’s presence. He hadn’t offered much information on himself when his turn came around. His explanation regarding his stay at the hospital was drug-related. He’d spazzed out on some speed, caught the wrong movie on TV (The Shining), and ran around his house freaking the shit out of his whole family. He had explained that he was a repeat resident, he did have your basic teenage drug problems. A little bit of this, a little bit of that, but this time his brain just didn’t handle it that well. That’s how he’d ended up in “Psycho Central”, as he called it. I actually don’t think he recognized me. I was shaved and dressed better than the last time we met, so I’m assuming that’s why he didn’t catch on.
---------------
After the session, we were allowed to go outside for a minute so all of the smokers could be sated. A few people and some counselors opted not to join us outside, but Darc was one of the first few out the door, and I was hot on his heels.
“No skateboards allowed in here?” I joked, hoping he’d catch the reference.
“Nah, man....they took it......hey, wait....” Aha! We have recognition! “I remember you. What’s up, dude? I forgot your name....?” He spoke and rolled a cig between his teeth at the same time.
“Its Kevin.”
“Yeah, right. Kevin. What in the world did you do to get thrown in here?” I coughed as he lit up.
“I killed a guy.”
“Fuck off, come on!” His look of disbelief amused me. I remained silent, though. “You did, didn’t you?” He peered in to my eyes.
“Sometimes it has to be done.” It was the best explanation I could come up with. That and it sounded just hard enough to impress him.
“Dude!” He held out his hand. “Gimme some love! That’s way cool!”
“Nah, man, its not cool at all. I’m in a lot of fucking trouble because of it,” I said solemnly. Reality sets in quick when you actually put your problems in to words.
“Don’t worry about it. If you’re nuts, they’ll let you off. Of course you might spend the rest of your life in one of these places, but its not too bad,” Darc said it as if he’d contemplated the idea himself.
“That’s not an option for me. I’ve got something I need to take care of. Which is one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you. You’ve been in here before, right? Could you...” I was distracted as Darc smiled and waved at somebody behind me. I turned around to look and spotted a girl, she must’ve been about ten, walking down the hall inside the plexiglass doors. “They keep kids here, too?”
“Yeah, man, the shrinks don’t discriminate.” He was already lighting up his second cig.
“Anyway, what I was going to ask you was whether or not you could help me get the fuck out of here,” I spoke softly and tried not to draw attention to myself.
“You want out that bad?” He seemed surprised.
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, if its that important to ya. You have to understand though, you can’t let anybody know I helped you. That is, granting that you actually pull this shit off.” He walked over to a bench and motioned for me to join him. I strolled over and pretended to take a load off. “If you follow my directions, you’ll probably be okay, but I’m not going to guarantee anything.” I paid attention to his advice like I was breaking out of Alcatraz. But in my mind, I was.
Find him.
I’m workin' on it.
---------------
His instructions had been relatively simple. Fake an injury late at night, wait to get escorted across the parking lot to the main hospital, and then pray that the attendant can’t run as fast as you. His idea was a good one, but not foolproof. However, right now it was all I had.
The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. I wasn’t asked to do anything special and my counselor didn’t try to delve in to my soul or anything. I had experienced that
kind of therapy in the past and wasn’t looking forward to more. My problems were mine.
And mine.
I wasn’t about to get personal with anybody.
It was late in the day and I was trying to relax while I mulled over my little escape plan. I was in a rec room with a few other people, most of whom were watching TV. Someone sat down beside me. It was the old man from the group session.
“How ya doin', son?” I hadn’t expected him to speak and for a minute I was taken aback that out of all the people in the room, he had decided to talk to me.
C’mon, Kev, you know who this is.
Please don’t say that.
“I’m fine, sir. How about you?” I turned my head to look at him. I’ve never seen someone look so.....forlorn.
“I’m as good as I can be. All the people in here seem to think I could be doing better, though.” He turned his head down and started looking at the floor again, just like he had in the group session.
“I know what you mean. There’s no way in hell anybody in here is going to be able to solve any of MY problems.”
“What kind of problems could a young man like you possibly have?” He stared up at me. Uneasiness spread through my entire body. “Do you know why I’m here, son?”
“No, sir.” But now I was genuinely curious.
“My wife died yesterday,” he said softly, as if he didn’t want to say it. I felt sad, but also privileged because he’d opened up. Still, I wasn’t sure if this was a road I wanted to explore, especially now that I had so much on MY mind.
“She’d been sick for about a year and was more than ready to go. I guess when you get as old as us you just start looking for excuses to die, but things were a little different for us. Our whole lives we had prayed every night that we would be taken at the same time, but over the course of her illness it was quite obvious that I was going to be left alone. It was a heartbreaking situation for both of us. Our kids tried to get me to go to therapy, so that when it happened I would be prepared. I thought I was okay. I didn’t think I needed it. The fact is, no one is ready for something like that,” he drifted off for a second. “My world ended as soon as she exhaled her last breath. And to tell you the truth, son, I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.”
“God......sir.....I’m....,” I stammered. I had no idea what to say. I felt like an idiot.
“Son, I want you to do something for me,” he said.
“What?”
“Once you’re out, never give anybody a reason to send you back here. Listen to your friends and family. Do what they suggest. They love you more than you love yourself. And pray that you’ll never have to come back to this horrid place.” He stood up and walked off.
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