Moira was awakened by a coldness sliding up her shoulder. She had been dreaming. Dr. Cassano had been in her dream, though she couldn’t remember why. Rolling onto her back, she blearily half opened her eyes. A shaft of light coming from under her door, weakly illuminated the room. It was still dark outside. Isabella was talking to herself in the corner. Jack was lying beside her, as usual. If I just go back to sleep… She drifted off again. In her half-conscious state, Moira felt pressure across her chest and the vague feeling of something passing through her skin. Testing his limits. She sat up with a start. Moira was surrounded by blackness, a blackness beyond what was normal for night time. I must be dreaming. I can’t see a thing. She stood, the coldness of the floor pressed against her feet. Moira shuffled forward and pushed a door open. What’s happening? Why can’t I wake up? She continued to walk, feet inching across the black void. Her hand closed around the handle of another door. Isabella asked her something, but Moira couldn’t make out the words. The door gave and the smell of concrete hit her nose. The stairwell. I’m in the hospital stairwell. She heard the echo of her feet sliding across the floor. The pressure in her chest increased and she began to panic. Her toes slid over an edge and grabbed nothing but air. Moira teetered, her balance gone. Wake up, wake up! Isabella’s voice slipped into her head.
“Moira!”
She gasped awake and grabbed the stair railing just in time to stop herself from plunging down the flight of stairs.
“What are you doing, Jack?” Isabella asked, her voice high and scared.
“Seeing how far I can go,” Jack murmured.
Moira blacked out.
* * *
Morning sun tinged the tops of the trees with a reddish glow. Moira stared out her window at the strip of forest that surrounded the hospital. As pretty as the view would have been, it felt like another impenetrable wall between her and civilization. Isabella had been chattering incessantly since before breakfast.
“What are we going to do after your session, Moira? Do you want to play tag?”
“No.”
“How about after lunch?” Isabella twisted the hem of her skirt between her small hands, keeping an eye on Jack.
“Isabella, can you just stop talking?” Moira said as gently as she could. “Please?”
“Looks like it’s going to be a nice day.” Jack settled behind Moira on the window seat. “Too bad you’re trapped in here and can’t enjoy it.”
Moira bit her lip to keep from answering. Last night had left her scared and shaken. She’d been unable to go back to sleep. Not that she wanted to after what happened. What did happen? She thought frantically. Jack entered my body, but I didn’t black out like I usually do. I was awake…I just couldn’t see. But she had blacked out at some point, because Moira couldn’t remember how she got back into her bed. And, even though Isabella was obviously shaken, Jack was acting like nothing had happened.
There was a light knock at the door before it was opened.
“Hello?” Hesitant, an elderly woman poked her head in. “Agnes from yesterday, remember?”
“I remember,” Moira said. You were the nice one, she thought, relieved. “Hi, Agnes.”
“You always have your door closed.” Agnes waved a gnarled finger at her. “That’s why I haven’t seen you. I keep mine open.”
“Come in,” Moira said, glad for the distraction.
Agnes’s attention wandered around the room before it settled on Moira again. “Would you like to play cards?”
“I want to play cards!” Isabella clapped her hands and jumped up and down.
“Um…I have session this morning,” Moira said. “But sure.”
“Lovely!” Agnes pushed the one chair next to the window seat and sat down. “Do you have a deck?”
“I don’t,” Moira said reluctantly. “You didn’t bring one with you?”
A brief frown crossed her face. “Karen ripped our deck up. The one we usually use.” Agnes stood to leave, smoothing her pale yellow dress. Bright, pink nail polish stood in contrast to her elderly skin. She sat again. “There was a commercial on television the other day. About cats.”
Moira caught Jack’s look of amusement. Please don’t do anything, she thought apprehensively. She’s just an old lady. She turned her attention to Agnes. “Do you like cats?”
“I like them okay,” she said. “I had one when I was a little girl. Blackie. Such a sweet little kitten. But,” she continued, sobering, “our dog used to pester her to no end. Pester, pester, until she got mean as they come. Used to scratch like the dickens if you looked at her the wrong way.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Blackie was a fierce little thing.” Agnes got a faraway look in her eyes before returning to the present. “The commercial was selling these things you could put on your cats claws, to keep them from scratching.”
“I wonder if they work,” Moira asked.
Agnes shook her head as if Moira wasn’t getting the point of the conversation. “You stick them right on the cat’s nails. It distracts them. Stops them from scratching. They come in all colors. Red, blue…pink.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“Here’s what I think, though,” Agnes continued. “Some cats are going to scratch. Why? Because it’s what they do. It’s in their nature.” Her forehead creased. “Sometimes, it’s just better to play along with them.”
Unsure what Agnes meant, Moira nodded.
“You seem like a nice girl.” Agnes patted her on the knee. “I’ll bring cards next time.” She left, shutting the door behind her.
“She’s weird,” remarked Isabella.
Moira went back to staring out her window. The conversation swirled around in her head like muddy water.
“Session in an hour,” Sheila said as she bustled in. “You didn’t even start your breakfast, Moira.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ll leave it here,” she said. “Are you feeling all right?”
“I…didn’t sleep well.”
“Well, take your shower and get ready for the day.”
Moira watched her leave and stood reluctantly. She walked into the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror for a full minute before she realized Jack was talking to her. Drowning out his remarks with thoughts of redesigning the hospital building, one that included bathrooms too small for more than one person, she undressed and showered.