Catch Me (Synacky)

Chapter Thirty: Zacky

I did not speak once in individual therapy. Dr. Brooks told me he was sorry about Mum’s decision. Other than that, he did not speak either. He brought a video to watch and we watched it on the TV in the corner of the rec room. It was an animated Disney film, called The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad. It was made in 1949, and was a film I knew well. In fact, I could almost say the script verbatim. Dad used to watch it with me on Saturday afternoons when I was younger.

I watched, clutching my pet, almost able to imagine that I was at home with Dad, murmuring the words, “When the ghosts have a midnight jamboree, they break it up with fiendish glee. Ghosts are bad, but the one that’s cursed is the Headless Horseman; he’s the worst!”

I had almost forgotten about this film. Dad and I would sing all the songs together, sometimes he would make popcorn and we would built a tent with blankets in the living room and peer out at the TV from the safety within our fortress’s walls.

When the film ended, I sat, reveling in the memories, in the film itself. Oh, how I loved Mr. Toad! I loved Ichabod Crane! I loved Ratty and Moley and Angus MacBadger! When the movie ended (there were no credits at the end, they all went at the beginning) I asked Dr. Brooks if we could watch it again.

“No, I’m afraid not.” Dr. Brooks smiled. “Our session is just about finished. It went over, actually.”

“How did you…” I looked at the VHS case. “How did you know I was so fond of this film?”

“This copy actually belongs to you.” Dr. Brooks turned the case over, and I saw “BAKER” written in pen, Mum’s handwriting, near the bottom. “I took it when we went to your house. I knew there would be a good time to play this.”

I traced over the word, my last name. “Thank you.” I whispered. “But-But you take care of this. I don’t think I am allowed to have this here.”

That night, I lay in bed, staring at Brian as he slept. I imagined what it would be like if we weren’t here. My mind wandered to a little house in the city, and we could live there together and get a pet turtle and watch The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad together. And we could kiss all the time and play guitar together and he could tell me stories and I could tell him everything I know about prime numbers. It would be perfect.

But it’s useless to dream. Something like that would never come true. We were both here for a reason, and I doubted that we would ever be well enough to do adult things like get jobs and make mortgage payments. I did not even know how to drive a car, nor did I want to.

So we would either both go to mental institutions for adults, or we would be homeless or we would eventually end up in jail. That was just a fact of life.

It probably would have been different if I had gone with Mum.

Then, I would be able to study wolves, something that hadn’t really interested me, but I could always learn about it. I could be with Mum and we could study wildlife together and it would have been spectacular.

Or, maybe not.

It was a long time before I was able to fall asleep. Brian woke up at 3:24, sitting up fast and breathing quickly and he ran his hand through his hair.

I did not say anything. I knew he had had a bad dream. Those come a lot when you live in an institution, I’ve found out. He saw me watching him, and then he whispered, “Zacky?”

I didn’t reply. He knew I was awake, he saw me.

“I…” Even in the dark I could see him swallow hard. “I think I’m going to cry.”

I watched him for a moment. Then I slowly climbed out of bed, and crawled into bed with him. I reached for my liquid hourglass, turning it over. The red liquid inside looked black in the dark. I wrapped my arms around Brian and he shook and sobbed quietly in my shoulder. I kissed his temple and rocked him back and forth. I whispered, “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Because Mum and Dad and Brian had all done that to me when I had cried. And I hummed out the tabs I had been writing. I was working on a song, and maybe I would give it to Brian for his birthday, but I didn’t know when his birthday was. Anyway, I would give him the song on his birthday because songs are heartfelt (I don’t know what heartfelt means, really) and he would like it.

I held him even when he had stopped crying and shaking. Then, we lay down and I continued to hold him. I held him until he was breathing slow and easy. Then I touched his hair, Brian did have such soft hair. I touched his hair, then I tucked my pet into bed with him and climbed back into my own bed.

I do not know why Brian was crying. I do not know what his bad dream was. But sometimes, you don’t need to know the circumstances in order to make someone feel better.

And that is what I am learning at the institution. It’s what Brian has been teaching me.

That night, I fell asleep at 5:42. That was the last time I looked at the clock, anyway.

~*~

The next morning, I was very, very exhausted, and we did not make it to breakfast until 7:51. There had been a disturbance in our hall’s bathroom, and the aids had to handle it. It was a boy with encopresis who went to the bathroom on the floor and then tried to eat it. So we were late going to the showers.

I loathe being late. I hate it. I hate it when my schedule is changed, because then I don’t know what all I will have time to do and when I am going to be able to do it.

So instead of eating, I rocked and groaned, and when anyone touched me I screamed and screamed. I did not stop screaming until it was just an aid and me in the cafeteria, and then I made him write out a schedule for me so I would know exactly what I would do all day long.

This is what it looked like:

Zacky’s Schedule March 5th

8:25 – Go to class

8:30 – Language Arts

9:15 – Chemistry

10:15 – Health

11:15 – Geography

12:15 – Lunch

1:15 – Art

2:15 – Math

3:15 – Draw a picture

4:15 – Watch a film

5:00 – Supper

6:00 – Finish film

6:30 – Group therapy

7:30 – Read a book

8:45 – Socialize with friends

9:30 – bed

He did not write a spot for me to brush my teeth, and he did not write very specific times the way I like them, but he was very cross and it didn’t matter anyway, because he did not know how I like my schedules.

But I took it anyway, and I made it to Language arts at exactly 8:30.