Chapter 26

Dr. Werdiger has joined us in Jane’s office. Mom is here as well, standing behind me.

“Young lady, the only reason we are sitting in my office and not talking to you through the bars of a jail cell is that I was able to convince the developer of that property that you are a mental health patient as well as a minor,” says Jane.

“But I am a mental health patient and a minor,” I say.

“You broke the law! This is not like running away or sneaking out to smoke. I got a call from the police in the middle of the night!” says Jane. I sense Mom’s body tensing behind me.

“I thought it was just a rent-a-cop. And I didn’t smoke. It was Rayanne,” I say. I could add that the real reason we snuck out was to use my Ouija board more effectively, but I don’t have to say the words out loud to know how much worse that would make things now.

“If that developer had wanted to press charges, you can be certain the police would have been their next call. Katelyn, you have a lot to learn about accountability and responsibility,” says Jane.

Mom’s continued silence is freaking me out, but I try to put her out of my mind. It’s my counselor and psychiatrist I’m answering to at the moment.

“And Jane tells me your delusions regarding your past life and communicating with the dead are persisting, along with some kind of trance state which is occur-ring more frequently. Hearing voices, having recurring nightmares, and slipping into non-lucid states are serious symptoms. My recommendation is that we admit you back to BC Children’s Hospital and begin a course of medication to complement your therapy. However, your mother does not wish us to medicate and instead is consenting to your release into her custody, provided that you remain in Vancouver for continued observation and treatment.”

“Wait, I’m sorry to interrupt, but how am I going to stay in Vancouver if you’re releasing me from Arbutus House? We can’t afford to pay for a hotel for however long you think I still need treatment,” I say with as much conviction as I can muster.

“You let me worry about what we can afford,” says Mom coolly. “We’re staying with Patty for a few weeks; longer, if needed.”

“You will continue your treatment with me directly through regularly scheduled appointments until such time as I am ready to transfer you back to your psychiatrist in Nelson,” says Dr. Werdiger. I look back at Mom. She remains silent with her arms crossed.

“Your job at Visions Vintage is over, as is your time at Arbutus House. After you leave this office, you will return to your bedroom, pack your things, and leave,” says Jane.

Jane and Dr. Werdiger are both glaring at me. I feel like I’ve been sent to the principal’s office, but no actual punishment is occurring. Although I’ve never been sus-pended, I wonder if this is what the experience is like: getting kicked out of somewhere you didn’t want to be in the first place as extreme punishment for supposedly rotten behavior. I was wrong, though. I’ve never broken into anywhere in my life. I’ll never do it again, but not because of this meeting. I already knew the difference between right and wrong. If they understood that Akasha was real and that she deserved justice — or closure at the very least — this would all look different to them.

“What were you thinking? Why were you there?” says Dr. Werdiger.

I turn around and look at Mom again. She nods, suggesting I should tell the truth. I consider the truth, briefly. Dr. Werdiger’s frown changes my mind.

“It was a dare. A friend dared me to sneak in and stay for ten minutes. We were joking about the house being haunted and she dared me. That’s all it was.”

“Was one of the other girls in this house with you?” says Jane.

“No, it was a girl I met through Bryce. We had planned to meet downtown so she could watch me sneak into the house. She was behind me in the yard, waiting outside the construction fence. She must have seen me get caught and went the other way.”

“What was the other girl’s name?” says Jane.

“I’m not giving you her name. It’s not fair to get her in trouble when she didn’t really do anything anyway.”

“Okay, I don’t think there’s much value in hashing this out any further today,” says Mom as she steps forward.

“Please call my office at your earliest convenience to schedule an appointment for Katelyn,” says Dr. Werdiger. He passes a business card to Mom, who forces a smile and tucks it into her wallet.

“Katelyn, go pack your things,” says Mom.

In my bedroom I am alone for the first time since the Barclay house. I carefully extract the wallpaper from my back pocket. I pluck my diary from its hiding spot and open it to the front page. I place the wallpaper piece inside and close the book again before wedging it into the front section of my backpack.

It takes me less than ten minutes to scour my bedroom and stuff every one of my personal possessions into my bag. I acquired a few outfits from Visions, but not much more. My bag is practically bursting at the seams, but I manage to get the zipper closed.

I say quick goodbyes to Mariah and Melody, both of whom seem disinterested. Therese and Yolanda are at the community center. Mariah promises to say goodbye for me. Bonds formed in situations like Arbutus House should be strong, reinforced by common ground. That’s not how I feel walking out the door. I will never see these girls again. I won’t try to contact them and they won’t try to find me, online or off.

I get into Mom’s car with an uneasy sense that I’ve forgotten something, but the feeling fades. I look back as we drive away. The yard is empty. What did I expect? They’d change their tune and be standing outside, smil-ing and waving?

“So why did you really break into that house? I looked up the address and took a drive past it. Patty told me she took you for a walk in the West End. What were you looking for?” asks Mom.

“I was looking for some small scrap of evidence that Akasha was real.”

“And what did you find?”

I remember my piece of wallpaper. I want to show it to Mom, but that precious piece of paper is for my eyes only. It’s not proof of anything other than that the house is over a hundred years old.

“Katelyn?”

“Nothing. I didn’t find anything. The place had been renovated over and over and stripped bare long before I got there. It was a stupid idea. I had another dream about Akasha and I was desperate.” If I explain my ability to channel Akasha in my diary has grown by leaps and bounds, Mom will be furious. I’m going to stick with the term dream from now on.

“Next time you have a dream about Akasha or find her writing in your diary, just tell me. Talk to me about it.”

“I will. I’ve already said the break-in was stupid. It’s over and done. I won’t do it again.”

“Okay, I believe you. How about we grab a couple of burgers? Sound good?”

“That sounds perfect.”

After a trip through the drive-thru of the nearest burger joint, we park in front of Patty’s small, rectangular home. Mom calls it a “Vancouver Special” although it doesn’t seem like much of a gem to me. Just plain and overpriced.

Inside, Patty has already re-made her couch into a bed with fresh sheets and pillows. Mom had been sleeping on the couch, but tonight, Patty wants the couch so she can give Mom and me her bed. Patty insists, but this does not make Mom happy.

“Tomorrow I’m going to finally sort out the clutter in my spare room. It’s full of boxes and useless junk. I’m embarrassed I hadn’t gotten around to it when Becky first got here,” says Patty.

“Thank you again, Patty, I can’t tell you enough how grateful we are,” says Mom as she shoots me a back-me-up-kid glare.

“Yes, thank you, Patty.”

“We won’t be here very long. I want Katelyn to get the best care possible, but I’m starting to lose patience with the counselor and the doctor involved. We’ve got an appointment with Dr. Werdiger tomorrow. If he doesn’t come up with something useful, I’m taking Katelyn back home. I don’t care if he disagrees,” says Mom.

“Don’t get mad, Mom, it’s not their fault. It’s nobody’s fault. I’m too weird to fix.”

“Katelyn, you don’t need to be fixed. And you are both welcome to stay here as long as you like. Everything will sort itself out. You’ll see.” Patty’s confidence shines in stark contrast to Mom’s irritation. I hope something good happens at the hospital tomorrow.