The day was looking to be a bad one. Jack, insistent about crowding her personal space, had woken Moira at the crack of dawn. Their fight had gone on for several hours and ended with him forcing her to throw the breakfast tray across the room. The only good thing coming from the ‘accident,’ was that Jack’s energy was drained for a couple of hours. Isabella, eternally bored, wanted to play hide-and-seek and couldn’t understand why it wasn’t an option. She’d spent the morning complaining, adding to Moira’s distress. And just to make everything worse, Dr. Cassano was intent on continuing from where they had left off last session. Moira’s nerves were frayed.
“You mentioned Isabella ran away when you were playing by the swing. Was there a reason for that? Did you have a fight?”
She glanced at Isabella, who was sulking in the corner. “Maybe.”
“Do you remember what it was about?”
“Not really.”
“Did you follow her?”
“Yes.” Moira wedged a fingernail underneath one of the brass tacks.
“Where did she go?”
“She climbed a tree.”
“Did you follow her up the tree?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Were you still fighting?”
“Yes, we were still fighting.”
“About what?”
“She called Liam a baby because he cried all the time.”
“Did that make you angry?”
“Our parents died,” she said quietly. “He was sad.”
“Completely understandable.” Dr. Cassano studied her for several moments before he continued. “How did you feel about the death of your parents, Moira? We haven’t really discussed that.”
She paused before answering. “I had to take care of Liam.”
“That’s not what I asked. I asked how you felt.”
“I had to be the strong one.”
“Why?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Isabella run her hand lazily over the bookshelf.
“Why do you feel the need to be strong?” Dr. Cassano asked gently. “It’s okay to ask for support, from your friends, from your family.” He paused. “From me. That’s what I’m here for, to help you.”
Isabella’s finger trailed along the spine of one of the books.
“Did you follow her up the tree?”
She pulled the book off the shelf. It fell with a thud on the floor.
Dr. Cassano’s attention snapped over to it. He stared at the book as if he was trying to piece together how something like that could have happened.
“I’m done.” Moira stood abruptly and left his office. Her walk turned into a run as she headed towards the elevator. She pushed the button several times. The light glared at her like a single eye, unblinking. Moira pushed the button again, stabbing it with her finger uselessly. Her hands shook.
“Moira?” Dr. Cassano called from the end of the hall.
She bolted for the stair exit, slipping behind the door. It closed with a quiet hiss and she leaned against it, listening. Moira’s heart pounded in her chest with a force that made her head hurt.
“He’s going to drag you back into his office,” Jack whispered in her ear.
She nudged his presence away with her shoulder.
“You’ll never make it down all those stairs before he catches up with you.”
They were on the concrete landing of the fourth floor. Jack was right. Dr. Cassano would reach her before she made it down the first flight of stairs.
“I don’t like it when you talk to him about me,” Isabella whined.
“Of course you don’t,” Jack soothed. “Moira was being mean, wasn’t she?”
Isabella nodded, looking injured.
“Let’s play a game,” he said.
“A game, a game!” She clapped her hands, her previous mood dissolved. “Let’s play tag!” She grabbed Moira’s arm with an icy hand. “If he tags you, you’ll be it.”
“Tag, that’s perfect, Isabella,” Jack said. “I think Moira should jump. It’s the only way she’s going to get away.”
Isabella looked over the railing. An uncertain frown crossed her face.
“It’s not that far,” he said.
“It is so!” she argued.
“No. It isn’t.” Jack pressed himself against Moira. “I want to see her try and get away.”
“It’s a long way down.”
“Shut up, Isabella” he growled.
Isabella shrunk back for a second and then cocked her head, listening. “He’s coming!”
“If he drags her back to his office, no telling what he’ll do,” Jack said. “This is tag, Isabella. Moira has to get away or she’ll be it.”
Excited, Isabella ran back and forth between them and the door. “He’s coming, Moira! Jump!”
Jack backed Moira up to the railing. She glanced over her shoulder at the dizzying height of the stairwell. The railing dug into her back. The coldness of Jack’s presence seeped through her body. She could hear Dr. Cassano calling her name. Moira opened her mouth to answer him.
“Don’t,” Jack murmured.
Panicked, she tried to push past him and couldn’t.
“I can feel how scared you are.” Something bordering on hunger crept into his voice. “How scared would you be if you fell?” His presence pressed against her and she cringed. “Your heart is beating so hard, Moira. And your breath…it’s coming faster too.”
A wave of dizziness threatened to overcome her. In a fit of desperation, she pushed through Jack’s presence and stumbled. She grabbed the railing with both hands and fled down the stairs, grasping it tightly all the way down. Icy tremors reverberated throughout her core like aftershocks.
Moira slammed the door to her room. Jack and Isabella drifted through it.
“Why are you trying to run from me?” Jack questioned. “You know that’s pointless.”
Moira paced her room like a caged animal, trying desperately to ignore him.
“Did I scare you?” He feigned surprise. “I was just playing around.”
“He didn’t follow us,” Isabella pouted. “Darn, I wanted to play tag.”
Moira flung the door open again and walked quickly down the hallway to the nurse’s station.
“Can I go outside?”
“There’s nobody to take you outside right now.” The nurse gave Moira a sympathetic look. “Maybe later. Why don’t you play cards with some of the patients in the common room? I’ll walk you down.”
“I want to play cards!” Isabella said, clapping her hands. “Let’s play cards, Moira.”
The television in the common room blared loudly. A mousy-haired woman in a flowered nightgown sat huddled in front of it, watching a game show. An elderly woman stood by the window and gazed at the sky. A third patient sat at the table and picked at her fingernails with a plastic spoon.
“Turn down the television, Bridget. I can hear it all the way down the hall,” the nurse said.
The mousy-haired woman leaned forward and switched off the volume completely. She sat back and absently fingered a rip in the sleeve of her nightgown.
“Moira would like to play cards, Karen,” the nurse continued. “Why don’t you start a game?”
“I’m cleaning my fingernails,” Karen said. She brushed off her lap and started on her nails again. “We’re not playing cards right now.”
“I don’t think that’s what plastic spoons are used for,” the nurse remarked.
“They get the job done. My fingernails are dirty, dirty.” She continued to dig at them with the spoon. “I can’t get them clean.”
“Fine,” the nurse sighed. “How about you start a card game when you’re done?”
“We play cards after dinner, not in the morning.” Karen tucked her short, black hair behind her ears. She scrunched up her heavily made-up face. “And Bridget cheats.”
Bridget turned from the television. “I do not.”
“Yes, you do,” said Karen loftily. “Just watch your idiot box, Bridget. I’m not talking to you.”
Bridget turned back to the television with a frown.
“Oh, Karen,” the nurse sighed. “Don’t be rude. Just start a game, for heaven’s sake.” She left them.
Karen glared at Moira before she turned her attention to her fingernails again. “We don’t play cards in the morning.”
“I’ll play cards with you.” The elderly woman who had been staring out the window turned. “I play poker, blackjack, Old Maid.”
“You don’t play Old Maid,” Karen scoffed.
“I do, I played Old Maid when I was a child.” She got a wistful look on her face. “I love Old Maid. Bagpipe Barney is my favorite.”
“We don’t have Old Maid cards,” Karen retorted. “And I already said that we don’t play cards in the morning; that’s not what we do.”
“Then you don’t need to join us.” Bridget turned off the television. “We’ll play our own game of cards. Right, Agnes?”
“Yes, that would be nice,” Agnes agreed mildly. She gave Moira a beatific smile.
Karen picked up the pack of cards sitting on the table and shoved them under her seat cushion. “There. Now nobody can play.”
Agnes’s face fell. “I wanted to play cards.”
“Well, you can’t,” Karen said.
“Let Agnes do what she wants to,” Bridget said. “Stop bossing her around.”
“Nobody asked you,” Karen said. “Cards are not played in the morning! Only in the evening,” she ranted. “Everybody knows that.”
“Whatever.” Bridget huffed. “I’m going back to my room.”
“Wait,” Karen said. “I thought you wanted me to paint your fingernails?”
“I changed my mind.”
“Well, I have the polish, Bridget!” Karen picked up a bottle of bright, pink polish and waved it in her face. “Don’t forget that.”
“I can’t possibly forget it! You keep reminding me like it should mean something,” Bridget said. “And it doesn’t. I really don’t care if you polish my nails or not.”
Karen’s face reddened as she watched Bridget leave.
“If you want to play Old Maid,” Agnes said to Moira quietly, “I’ll be in my room.” She followed Bridget out the door.
Karen gaze snapped over to Moira. She threw her plastic spoon onto the ground.
“I’m sorry,” Moira said.
“You’re sorry,” said Karen. She stood, her hands clenched at her sides. “I’ll make you sorry!”
Moira backed out of the common room quickly, not wanting to start a fight.
This place is going to drive me crazy, Moira thought as she hurried back to her room and shut the door. I don’t know what’s worse—the patients, or dealing with Jack and Isabella.
“Home, sweet home,” Jack remarked.
“Darn,” Isabella complained. “I wanted to play cards.”