Status: Completed
Psyche
4
Jamie wakes abruptly, blinking wildly and murmuring nonsense from a vague dream.
Something to his side shuffles and sighs, deep and sad from its chest, and Jamie looks at it. Girlie sits in the chair by his bed and her eyes closed. She looks like she needs to be taken care of, her appearance frumpy and hair a tangled black mess. The first word Jamie mutters is so soft and garbled Girlie doesn’t respond. It takes him three tries to find his voice and call her name.
She lifts her head, hair falling from her eyes. Girlie looks as if she’s aged a few years, the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes more predominant, the laugh lines on her cheeks now ones of exhaustion. She stands up and hugs him, not tight enough to hurt. Her hands pet his hair and cheeks, and Jamie feels a wet trail falling down his neck.
“Jamie, oh my God,” she sobs. “I’m so sorry. I love you.”
He hugs her back and buries his face in the fatty flesh between her neck and shoulder.
She’s not saying sorry for Him.
He can’t say he’s sorry for his actions.
******
They had to pump his stomach. That’s what the doctor tells Jamie – Dr. Cosentino with his fuzzy grey hair and protruding belly that nauseates Jamie. Or maybe it’s the thought they shoved a tube up his nose to get rid of his mess, or however they do it. Jamie doesn’t ask for details.
Dr. Cosentino says how lucky Jamie is, how they got to him soon enough for there not be any serious damage. Jamie nods to his words out of habit and blinks to let him know he’s listening.
Girlie holds Jamie’s hand the whole time Dr. Cosentino speaks, her own stomach looking fuller than Jamie last saw it. How far along is she? He tries to imagine some alien being inside, some part of Zack’s sperm steadily growing in Girlie, and he wants to puke.
“Do you want some water?” Dr. Cosentino asks.
Jamie says yes, though the liquid is too cold going down, it holds back the vomit.
“When can I go home?” Jamie asks. It’s too early, he thinks, to be asking that. But he wants to know how long they’ll keep observing him till they believe he’s fit to leave.
Dr. Cosentino smiles and that’s how Jamie knows his answer isn’t what he will want.
“We want to keep you here for at least two more days, and then . . .” He looks at Girlie, and her eyes are set on the ground and her lip sucked in like she doesn’t want to speak.
“Girlie?” Jamie prods.
She wings the bottom of her shirt and sighs. “They’re going to . . . we’re going to send you this ward that deals with kids your age and I’ve already been there and it’s a good place. They’re going to help you get better so you won’t be . . . so you’ll be better.”
She might as well have made him drink arsenic and bleach mixed together. “You’re sending me to a mental house.”
“Don’t say it like that –“
“Don’t sugarcoat it.”
“I can’t have you trying to kill yourself again!”
The tears are back with silent sobbing this time. Dr. Cosentino hands Girlie some tissues and asks if she wants to step out for a moment. She says no, dabs her eyes twice, and crumples the tissues in her fists. She opens her mouth but Jamie is the one to apologize first, say he’s tired and can he please rest now?
He hates being tired.
Something to his side shuffles and sighs, deep and sad from its chest, and Jamie looks at it. Girlie sits in the chair by his bed and her eyes closed. She looks like she needs to be taken care of, her appearance frumpy and hair a tangled black mess. The first word Jamie mutters is so soft and garbled Girlie doesn’t respond. It takes him three tries to find his voice and call her name.
She lifts her head, hair falling from her eyes. Girlie looks as if she’s aged a few years, the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes more predominant, the laugh lines on her cheeks now ones of exhaustion. She stands up and hugs him, not tight enough to hurt. Her hands pet his hair and cheeks, and Jamie feels a wet trail falling down his neck.
“Jamie, oh my God,” she sobs. “I’m so sorry. I love you.”
He hugs her back and buries his face in the fatty flesh between her neck and shoulder.
She’s not saying sorry for Him.
He can’t say he’s sorry for his actions.
******
They had to pump his stomach. That’s what the doctor tells Jamie – Dr. Cosentino with his fuzzy grey hair and protruding belly that nauseates Jamie. Or maybe it’s the thought they shoved a tube up his nose to get rid of his mess, or however they do it. Jamie doesn’t ask for details.
Dr. Cosentino says how lucky Jamie is, how they got to him soon enough for there not be any serious damage. Jamie nods to his words out of habit and blinks to let him know he’s listening.
Girlie holds Jamie’s hand the whole time Dr. Cosentino speaks, her own stomach looking fuller than Jamie last saw it. How far along is she? He tries to imagine some alien being inside, some part of Zack’s sperm steadily growing in Girlie, and he wants to puke.
“Do you want some water?” Dr. Cosentino asks.
Jamie says yes, though the liquid is too cold going down, it holds back the vomit.
“When can I go home?” Jamie asks. It’s too early, he thinks, to be asking that. But he wants to know how long they’ll keep observing him till they believe he’s fit to leave.
Dr. Cosentino smiles and that’s how Jamie knows his answer isn’t what he will want.
“We want to keep you here for at least two more days, and then . . .” He looks at Girlie, and her eyes are set on the ground and her lip sucked in like she doesn’t want to speak.
“Girlie?” Jamie prods.
She wings the bottom of her shirt and sighs. “They’re going to . . . we’re going to send you this ward that deals with kids your age and I’ve already been there and it’s a good place. They’re going to help you get better so you won’t be . . . so you’ll be better.”
She might as well have made him drink arsenic and bleach mixed together. “You’re sending me to a mental house.”
“Don’t say it like that –“
“Don’t sugarcoat it.”
“I can’t have you trying to kill yourself again!”
The tears are back with silent sobbing this time. Dr. Cosentino hands Girlie some tissues and asks if she wants to step out for a moment. She says no, dabs her eyes twice, and crumples the tissues in her fists. She opens her mouth but Jamie is the one to apologize first, say he’s tired and can he please rest now?
He hates being tired.