Everlong by Barbara Valletto

Author:Barbara Valletto [Valletto, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781619292666
Publisher: Regal Crest Enterprises, LLC
Published: 2015-10-28T03:00:00+00:00

A DENTED METAL pail, near full of vinegar water, sloshed at my side as me and Hattie made our way from room to room, window to window. After Hattie washed a pane, I followed up by drying the glass free of any lingering residue or streaks. For a time, we worked quietly beside each other. On more than one occasion, I caught Hattie sneak a furtive peek my way. Amused rather than annoyed, I finally asked, “What is it about me that intrigues you so? I’m not much to look at.”

“I’m having a hard time figuring out why you’re here. You seem so...so normal,” Hattie whispered.

“Exactly what does that mean?”

Hattie’s cheeks reddened. “I mean you don’t babble like an idiot, or try to hurt yourself, or worse yet, try to hurt someone else.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“I’m currently in a state of regression.”

“Regression? From what?”

“I have mood swings. Sometimes I can’t control myself. They say that when I’m in the throes of an episode, I act out of sorts in ways that are frightening or harmful to others.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “Are you aware of what you’re doing?”

Hattie shook her head. “I black out. Afterwards, I have a horrendous headache and don’t remember any specifics.”

“What’s Abigail’s story?” I asked.

At the mention of the girl’s name, Hattie shuddered. “She’s demented. I heard Nurse Lane tell another nurse that Abigail hates all that’s beautiful, or at least what another might perceive as beautiful. She killed three of her mother’s Siamese cats.”

I gasped. “That’s horrible. How?”

“One she stomped to death, the other she drowned in the bathtub, and the last she poisoned with arsenic.”

It was my turn to shudder. “But why would she kill such defenseless creatures?”

“Out of spite. Another patient overheard Abigail telling Dreschler she did it because her mother doted on the cats more than she did on Abigail. When Abigail learned that her mother was with child, she tried to throw her down a flight of stairs. That’s when they institutionalized her. She’s a bad seed, that one. Full of jealousy and hate. You don’t want to get close to her.”

“And the other girl? The one who doesn’t speak?”

Hattie frowned. “Poor dear. Her name’s Daphne. The orderlies call her ‘daft.’ One day, many years ago, she stopped talking. No one knows why. She’s as introverted as they come. You’ll never get her to make eye contact or show any type of emotion. She’s mute. Sometimes she’s so out of it that the nurses have to spoon-feed her and swaddle her in diapers.”

“How many patients reside here?”

“We’re segregated, so it’s hard to tell. In our wing, maybe five to eight female patients. Depending on the day or days, one may be under intense therapy with Dr. Dreschler or on restriction. Some even manage to get released.”

“But not many?”

“Not from what I can tell.” Hattie glanced at the floor and grimaced. “Pay attention to how you handle that bucket, Cissy. You’re trailing water down the hall.”

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