Catch Me (Synacky)

Chapter Ten: Zacky

The next morning, Brian had returned. We went together to brush our teeth, and he made funny faces at me in the mirror. I laughed, which was something I didn’t do often. It must have been a good omen. Today was going to be a good day.

I didn’t bring up what Jimmy had said to me. I told myself that it wasn’t true, that he was just trying to make me angry.

They even had Froot Loops for breakfast, which made the day twice as lucky. I was careful to make sure no yellow pieces got in my bowl. Brian ate an orange and a bowl of Cheerios.

My day went from heaven to hell at 12:36 PM on that day, January 19th. I had been at the institution for one month and seven days.

I was called out of class, and an aid took me to the main building. I asked what was going on, but he didn’t answer me. I was nervous that Brian was not with me, and I held my pet close to my chest.

We went to the office, and Dr. Brooks was waiting for me. I asked him why he was here, today was Wednesday, not Tuesday, and he said he and I had to have a little talk. He asked where I would like to go, and I said to the rec room, in the corner where we had individual therapy.

He remarked that my pet was looking particularly well-groomed today. I told him that today was a good day, so my pet had to look his best. Dr. Brooks sighed, and said, “Damn.”

We sat at the table, and I placed my pet on its surface. We waited in silence for a while, but I didn’t mind it. I liked the quiet.

“Zacky…” Dr. Brooks rubbed his temples with his fingers. He said, “I’m going to tell you some bad news. Do you want me to pull Brian out of class so he can be here with you?”

I nodded. The mention of bad news didn’t really bother me much, but I’d like to be able to see Brian outside of class, regardless. It was a little bit like when we played in the snow.

Dr. Brooks sent an aid for Brian, and we spoke idly about my pet until the aid showed up again, Brian at his side. I smiled at him, and Brian smiled back, coming into the room to sit by my side. “Hello, Brian.” Dr. Brooks greeted, and Brian said, “Hey, Dr. Brooks.”

Dr. Brooks took a deep breath, then another. I counted eight breaths before he spoke again. “Zacky, the institution received a call from the police station in your city.”

He waited for me to process this, to react. I did not. I had committed no crime, other than running away from home, and that was why I was here. I didn’t even think running away from home was a crime.

Dr. Brooks took more deep breaths. “It was about your father. You see, Zacky... he passed away last night.”

I blinked. I was not good at reading expression, I was not good at understanding jokes, but there was no way that this was not a ruse.

I stared blankly at Dr. Brooks, waiting for the punch line. At my side, Brian gasped.

“I do not believe you.” I stated firmly. “You’re lying.”

“I wish I was, Zacky I truly do. He killed himself in the night. I wish there could have been some mistake, but there’s no way around it.”

I regarded Dr. Brooks. I counted him as one of the only two people I could trust here, and he was going to throw it all away like this? For what? A trick? A practical joke?

“I can’t believe that.” I whispered. “I spoke with him on Saturday.”

With that, I bolted from my seat and raced out the door. “Wait, Zacky!” Dr. Brooks called out, and I could hear Brian’s footsteps behind me, following.

I managed to beat him to the main office, skidding to a stop inside, out of breath. “I need to make a phone call!” I cried out, “It’s very urgent!”

I called his workplace. That’s where he would be. The front desk woman picked up and I asked to be transferred to James Baker’s office, just like I had been taught. She sighed, “Oh, honey, Mr. Baker isn’t in today. In fact, he’s not coming back. He passed away last night.”

I hung up and tried the house phone. It went to voicemail after the rings. Frustrated, I called again. “Pick up the phone!” I cried, “Answer, dammit!”

“Zacky…” Brian’s fingertips rested lightly on my shoulder and I ripped away from him. “No! Don’t touch me!”

I racked my mind. Where could he be? Then it hit me: The woman with the yellow bag.

“He could be okay, there-there was a woman he was with, she has a yellow bag and big hair and she smells like smoke.” I turned to Dr. Brooks, who was just entering the office. “We have to find her, she’ll know where he is.”

“Zacky, Zacky, they found a body…” Dr. Brooks sighed. “He left a note, Zacky. He hung himself.”

I staggered back. Suddenly the lights were too bright, there was too much sound, too many people surrounding me. “No!” I screamed, “No, no, no!!”

I bolted from the office, away from the people, and ran past the aids, past everyone. But where to go? They were following me, I could hear them. I started trying doors in the hallway I was in. Most of them were locked. But one of them opened into a small supply closet, and I closed myself inside, locking the door behind me. It was dark in here, and quiet. There was nothing but stacks of paper towels and toilet paper, and a couple brooms.

I rocked and groaned and recited prime numbers. I counted and counted the farthest I had ever gone before, until my head was swimming with numbers and I could hardly think. It suddenly occurred to me that my pet was no longer with me. I had dropped it at some point since I was in the rec room with Dr. Brooks.

I wailed, afraid for my pet, afraid for Dad, afraid for myself. I didn’t know what to do.

How long could I give myself? How could I move past this loss? Dad was all I had, after Mum left. He couldn’t kill himself, didn’t he care about me? Now he left me alone in this world, a place that I despised now more than ever.

I switched to pi.

I thought about Django Reinhardt. Had he gone through hardships like this? Of course. There was the fire, he lost the use of two of his fingers, and still, he remained the greatest guitarist of all time. It occurred even before his career had begun to flourish.

I still had my own body, didn’t I? I still had ten fingers and toes, and eyes that worked and a mouth and a spinal cord and a functioning liver.

I had only memorized 263 numbers of pi, and when I reached the end, I forced myself to stop rocking. I just sat still, staring numbly at the wall, until eventually, I fell asleep.