Part 11 (1/2)
”Hesitantly, yes.”
”Oh thank G.o.d.” He looks relieved. ”It's the truth, it's the honest to G.o.d truth.”
”Okay, I'll accept it.”
”Please, tell that to Tom. He almost threw me out a second story window because of this. I mean, he literally hung me out the window by my s.h.i.+rt.”
”Jesus.” I'm going to have to ask him about this.
Felix stands up, hands in his pockets. ”I gotta go,” he says.
”You're going to be okay. You're coming through this fine. Your ability to see reason is as good as it ever was, I don't think you're going to have any trouble.”
”Just don't give me any more hallucinogenics,” I tell him, ”whether I ask for them or not.”
”Are you kidding? I'm going off them permanently myself. I'll see you when you get home.”
”Okay.” I watch him walk off toward the main building, which is the only way in or out.
Aaron and Pris are my next two visitors. They show up just after I've finished eating, and I lead them outside, away from the crazy people. The sun is still up, but it's hanging low on the horizon. Just below it is a hazy layer of fog which is rolling in over the bay. ”How are you doing?” Aaron asks.
”I'm doing fine. I just have some memory loss, that's all. The memories I do have seem to be all screwed up.”
”I can't believe Felix did this,” Pris says. Her voice is defensive, in fact it's almost hostile. She's defending Felix against me. ”I mean, I just don't see his motive.”
”I've talked to him about it,” I tell her. ”He----”
”He was here?” Aaron asks.
”Yes. He swears that I asked for the LSD, and that I took it of my own accord. It's kind of hard for me to believe, but it's just as hard for me to believe he'd slip it to me without me knowing. I don't know.
Is it something I would have done?”
”You're asking us?” Aaron says.
”Yes. I have no idea. Would I have asked Felix for it, and would I have stupidly taken so much of it all at once?”
Neither of them answer. Apparently they don't know me well enough to make that judgment call. ”I have another bone to pick with you,” Pris says. ”Tom told me you claim you slept with me.”
I stare at her a moment, feeling embarra.s.sed. ”I'm sorry, I know I promised not to tell him.”
”You and I have never slept together.” Her voice is very matter of fact, and angry. ”That night you came over, you were too drunk to drive home, and I let you spend the night. But I never let you . . . we have a strictly platonic relations.h.i.+p. If I'd known that you had that in mind, or were going to have this . . . delusion, I never would have invited you over in the first place.”
My brain does not accept this. It bounces off my forehead like a sharp rock, jarring me, and I'm not accepting it. Why, I wonder, is she lying? She's using my confused mental state to erase the reality of what happened, because . . . why? Because she's mad that I told Tom? Because I broke my promise? The pain floods through me like poison. ”I love you,” I suddenly say to her. ”I love you, and you treat me like this?”
Aaron has taken a sudden step back from us, and turns away. He's staying out of it. Pris is looking at me with a degree of astonishment.
”What?” she says.
”Couldn't you tell?” My voice is pleading. ”Didn't that night mean anything to you?”
”I don't know what you've dreamed up, but nothing has ever happened between you and me.”
”Pris . . .” I'm choking up. The pain is unbearable. There's so much pain that when the tears start flooding down my face I don't even care. I want her to see them, I want her to see what she's doing to me.
”I don't believe this,” she says, backing away from me. ”I don't want to hear this, I don't want to be a part of this.” She turns toward Aaron, still taking steps away from me. ”Aaron, take me home now.”
”Wait,” he says.
”No, I want to leave now.”
”Then go wait by the car,” he says harshly.
She's somewhat startled by his voice, and wordlessly she reenters the building and disappears. Aaron turns toward me with dismay. ”I don't know what to say,” he says. ”You've got to try to distinguish between what is real, and what you want to be real.”
I can't say anything. I'm crying like a baby.
”I know the way you feel about her, but she's still in love with Tom. It's not over between them yet.”
”What do you mean?” I exclaim. ”He dropped her.”
”Even though he's seeing Heather, there's still a lot going on between him and Pris. You know that.”
”Everything I know is wrong!” I shout at him. ”I don't know a f.u.c.king thing!”
”I'm going to come back when you're feeling better, okay?” He turns and leaves me, unable to deal with it all.
I stand there watching him go, feeling black waves of pain. Inside he meets with Pris and puts an arm around her, and she throws a glance at me through the window as they walk away. Wild thoughts of murder and suicide fill my mind, painful thoughts swimming in the h.e.l.l that my insides have become. I want to ram my head into a tree. I want someone to cut my throat. I want it to end. Just end.
It doesn't end. It goes on and on.
By the time Tom makes his return visit, accompanied by Heather, the orderlies had gotten to me and now I'm fully sedated. The pain still rages on, but now it's in a box in a corner somewhere, insulated by wads of cotton which fill me. I feel I've lost everything, and the worst was the loss of Pris. But the sense of loss is an illusion, as I'd never had her in the first place, and this is twice as painful.
”How are you feeling?” Tom asks.
”Totally insane.”
”Did they drug you?”
”Yes. They had to. I was trying to kill myself.”
”Why?”
”Pris doesn't love me. She doesn't even like me. She thinks I'm a worm.”
”All men are worms,” Heather says.
”She loves you,” I tell Tom. ”Everyone loves you. I even love you.
Why can't I be you?”