Three Words

 

 

Stepping into an empty elevator, I pressed the “five” button to the ICU with my thumb.

“So what’s the story with these sunglasses? And who was that lady in the chapel?” I looked at Better Bertie beside me.

“All of your questions will be answered when the time is right,” she said. “But you might not like some of the answers.”

Ding. Fifth floor.

As we entered the ICU, I gasped in shock. Better Bertie wasn’t the only one glowing. I stopped to stare at all the radiant people coming and going. Nurses, an orderly, various visitors, and an old woman hobbling past us with a walker; they all glowed.

“Freaky, huh?” Better Bertie said. All I could do was silently nod. “They’re auras,” she said, walking two steps ahead of me. “Everyone and everything that’s alive has a certain … energy. The higher the energy, the brighter the aura.”

“I love it. I mean, I really love it!” I said, watching the human light shows.

“What’s that, young lady?”

The old woman with the walker, her aura a dull pea soup green, glared at me. “Did you just say you love me?”

I hesitated, then said, “Well, yes.”

The woman scoffed. But as she shuffled onward, her aura bloomed into a shiny emerald green. Better Bertie patted me on the back. “You’re a lot smarter than your report cards suggest, Bertie.” No one heard her but me.

My smile faded.

Up ahead, Tabitha stood outside of Mac’s room, texting on her phone. The glow around her was a dark swirl of purple and black.

Better Bertie must’ve read my thoughts. “Everyone has a story,” she said. “You think you know who Tabitha is, but you don’t know squat. And Tabitha has no idea who you are, either.”

I gestured to Tabitha’s aura.

“Well, I know she’s all dark and stormy. Look at her, it’s like she’s full of lightning and hail, and maybe a tornado and a tsunami.”

“Uh, and so are you,” said Better Bertie, pointing at my hands.

She was right. I had a cloudy dark purple aura, just like Tabitha.

That was when two storm fronts collided.

“Perfect. Now you’re talking to yourself and wearing sunglasses indoors,” Tabitha said. “Playing the crazy card, Bernice? I’m not buying one minute of your weirdo act. Why don’t you do us all a favor and hop a bus to North Carolina.”

Harsh! I was dying to launch a counterattack at Tabitha, but Better Bertie stopped me. “Don’t do it,” she said. “There’s a healthier way of communicating your thoughts and feelings.”

Against my better judgment, I said nothing. Tabitha scowled, and strode past us to a bathroom down the hall. Better Bertie smiled at me. “That went well.”

My aura grew darker. I could feel it change.

“Yeah, for Tabitha maybe. Not for me.”

“No, for you, too,” Better Bertie said.

“Whatever,” I said. “Just tell me how I get out of this disaster.”

“You don’t,” she said.

“What? I thought you were here to help me!”

“I am. None of this is an accident.”

“Oh, don’t even go there.”

“I’m already there. And so are you, you just don’t know it yet. There’s no getting out of this,” Better Bertie said. “The quicker you make peace with that fact, the quicker you’ll find out how you can help Mac. First, you have to stop lying to yourself and to everyone else, and maybe you should even admit that Tabitha is no different from you.”

“Dude, you’re more nuts than I am! That girl is nothing like me. In fact, Tabitha and I could not be more different.”

“Do you want my help or not, Bertie?”

“Sure. But you’re doing a lousy job.”

“Okay, fine. Try this,” Better Bertie said, not missing a beat. “Say something mean about Tabitha. Anything you want, just as long as it’s really-really horrible.”

Mean thoughts ran through my head.

“Check it out. Tabitha is a total stupid jerk-face idiot who smells like dirty diapers and dog farts. How was that? Pretty good, right?”

“Excellent. Now say it again, only this time add three words, ‘just like me.’”

“Okay. Tabitha is a total stupid jerk-face idiot who smells like dirty diapers and dog farts … just like me,” I said. “No, that doesn’t work anymore.”

Better Bertie ignored me.

“Now say something nice about Tabitha, and add the three words.”

“Okay. Tabitha can sometimes be not too overly disgusting, just like me.” As I said those words, the aura around me lightened. It wasn’t much, but it felt good.

Better Bertie smiled. “It’s amazing how much brighter things can be when you look at them differently.”

Just then, I spotted my mom stepping out of Mac’s room. She waved me closer.

“Time to go see Mac,” I whispered to Better Bertie.

“You know what you need to say. Or you will know.” She looked a bit too pleased with herself.

“Other me? You’re getting on my last nerve,” I said.

I took off the sunglasses. Better Bertie disappeared.

I turned toward Mac’s room. Now what? What in the world was I going to say to those people, and to zonked-out Mac?