Woman In The Woods

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Rochester, NY — Present Day

“You're going home, Jeremy.” The nurse offered up a warm smile. Dressed in hospital blues, hair pulled back, she set a tentative hand on his arm.

Jeremy almost shied away from the contact, but refrained. It went against every instinct. Fighting those urges helped convince doctors he was better. Instead, he folded the last t-shirt from his dresser drawer and placed it on the bed next to his other belongings.

“Are you excited?”

He nodded. Excited was not the word. Afraid worked better. All he'd known the last nine years were the white halls of St. Mary's. Maybe he shouldn't have concentrated so much effort on convincing doctors of anything. He wouldn't be here now, packing his things. It was movie night. He could be microwaving a bag of popcorn and picking out a recliner in the rec room in anticipation of the flick. It didn't matter what was showing. Movie night was best.

“A little scared?” she asked.

He nodded. “A little.”

“That's okay.”

She'd faltered, as if she were going to say, that's normal, but stopped herself in time.

“You'll be staying with your uncle?”

He wished the conversation would end. There was nothing comfortable about it. Sure, the questions came across as simple. Part of him felt as if he were still being tested, observed. “I was eight when they brought me here. I don't really remember him very well.”

Although he was afraid to leave, he was also ready to go. The psychiatric floor he lived on housed people who terrified him at times. When Bobby wasn't standing in a corner talking to the walls, he was punching himself in the face hard enough that he'd broken his nose a time or two. CarryAnn ate anything she could get her hands on. Countless nights she was transported to Strong so the E.R. doctors could pump her stomach. Jethro hated wearing clothing. Orderlies never had it easy when after chasing him up and down halls, they were forced to tackle and restrain the large naked and violent man.

“He's visited with you many times.”

Visits were awkward. He and Uncle Jack sat at a table in the rec room and talked about the weather, or a football, or baseball game, even though Jeremy cared less about sports than he did about weather. “Yes, he has.”

There was nothing else to fold. Everything he owned was stacked neatly on the bed. He should turn and face the nurse, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Keeping his arms at his side, he stared at his things and patiently waited for her to give up on trying and just leave.

And eventually, when the silence dragged on, she left.

* * *

Dr. Brian Burkhart sat at his desk. Books filled tall cases behind him. Leaning back in his chair, his elbows on the rests, he tapped fingertips together in a pyramid below his chin. His grey hair was neatly parted down the middle and his soft blue dress shirt freshly pressed. A white lab coat hung on a rack in the corner nearest the wall displaying an array of framed degrees. Regarding his visitors over the rim of thick lens eye glasses, he smiled. “Mr. Raines, it is good to see you this morning.”

“You, as well, doctor.”

Jack, a large man, sat straight in an uncomfortable wood chair with broad shoulders back and beefy arms resting on the armrests. He kept hands folded together in his lap. With a full head of deer-brown hair, wide-set eyes and a strong chin, Jeremy wondered if this were a glimpse into what he'd look like in his forties.

“And how are you today, Jeremy?”

Innocuous as the question sounded, answering became a bit more complex. Taking too much time could be perceived as awkward and calculated.

“I'm well. Thank you.”

It seemed unwise pointing out his stomach was unsettled. He wasn't sure if he needed to move his bowels or vomit. On the verge of perspiring, Jeremy kept his breathing even, calm. Conflicted, he was afraid of going home, but he didn't want to spend another night inside the institution. Freedom scared him. Staying at the hospital would drive him insane. That is, if he wasn't already out of his mind.

“Since Jeremy earned his G.E.D. while a resident here, I understand, Mr. Raines, you've secured work for your nephew?” Dr. Burkart kept arms on the desk, fingers interlaced in front of him. He leaned forward, his interest apparent and seemingly genuine.

Jack used a fist to cover his mouth when he cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. Nothing fancy really. Diner in town. He'll be working in back. It's one of the only places to eat, so it's a busy spot.”

“That's splendid. My first job was as a busboy for a party house. Long, long hours, but it taught me about work ethic.” Dr. Burkart nodded, silently, as if finishing his thought silently.

Jeremy tried paying attention. Instead, he studied his Uncle Jack's profile. Clean shaven, with wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. He looks like my father, Jeremy thought.

Dr. Burkhart said, “Jeremy?”

“Yes. A busboy sounds like a challenging job.”

“Well. I'm not sure how challenging it was. The point is, I learned plenty from working there. Overall, it was an experience. I've been thankful for the opportunity from my first day employed.” Dr. Burkhart smiled, his eyes bright, hopeful.

Must be nice. Always optimistic and positive.

“My first job was mowing lawns in the summer and shoveling driveways in the winter.” Uncle Jack returned the smile, a stiff expression. “Made a lot of money, but I broke my back.”

The conversation had turned somewhat surreal and Jeremy handled it best by just smiling and nodding. He wanted out of the small office. He'd have sworn the walls moved. Could the room have been shrinking? He took in a slow, deep breath. He felt the perspiration pool in the recess of his throat and collarbone. It was definitely getting hotter. Jeremy tugged at his t-shirt, but stopped and dropped his hand into his lap. He didn't want anything he did perceived as mental illness.

If they revoked his release, he might scream; he would scream.

Screaming didn't sound extreme.

Maybe he was healed and deserved to go home?

He shook his head. If he were better, then why was the office getting smaller and hotter? No one else seemed to notice. Uncle Jack didn't look uncomfortable, or worried.

“Is everything alright?” Dr. Burkhart asked.

“I've never had a job before.”

Uncle Jack shifted his weight around. He faced his nephew. “It's not much different than going to school. You get up every morning and go to work. Think of your boss like a teacher, or something. You do what they say. Only instead of getting homework, you get a paycheck.”

Jeremy hated school. Bullies made the experience hell. He'd been in more fights than he could remember. Usually, he was on the losing side. Countless black eyes, fat lips and bloody noses still plagued many of his dreams. It was never one-on-one either. He recalled attempts at defending himself against groups of boys. “A paycheck sounds good,” he said and offered up a smile.

The taunting. That was almost always worse than the beatings. The name calling and knocking books out of his hands bothered him more than getting shoved or punched in the back.

The idea of work being anything like school made him apprehensive.

Maybe he'd been wrong about wanting out of St. Mary's. If anything, living behind these padded walls had been safe.

Was there a right thing to want?

Should he talk about this more with Dr. Burkhart?

“I have a question.” Jeremy froze. He'd surprised himself by speaking.

Dr. Burkhart leaned forward. Genuine interest filled his expression as his eyes widened in anticipation. “Yes,. Jeremy?”

“If I want to come back, may I?”

Jeremy wasn't sure what he expected. When the doctor sat back in his chair and grinned, he knew that was the opposite reaction anticipated.

“You're going to be just fine, son. If we didn't believe you were ready to go home with your uncle, then we wouldn't be here right now. You asking that question tells me the board has made the right decision. The years spent here have helped you tremendously. You've come a long way. The only way you're going to grow as a person now is by getting back out into the world. I know it can seem frightening. There are many, many new things you'll experience and that you should experience. But inside that folder is my card and if you ever feel the need to talk, about anything, you can call me. Night or day, Jeremy. Do you understand? I will still be here for you. In fact, my feelings will be hurt if you don't call every once in a while just to let me know how you're doing. How does that sound?”

It still sounded scary. “Thank you, Dr. Burkhart.”

“You don't have to thank me. Just make sure you call. Do I have your word?” Dr. Burkhart stood up.

Jack got to his feet.

Jeremy, not wanting to be the only one still sitting, stood up as well. “You have my word.”