The Moon is Broken by Eleanor Craig

Author:Eleanor Craig [Craig, Eleanor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2016-07-25T22:00:00+00:00

I will not process myself

through the Psycho-system again

Expected to be acquiescent as a sheep

hoping

hoping for hope

ready to accept whatever they would say

about my problems

buying the whole scam.

I was so sincere.

I believed.

And so stupid.

I believed.

But I will not continue to believe

anymore.

(DIARY ENTRY, OCTOBER 1984)

*

Paul asked me to go with him on a business trip to Sweden. We needed and deserved the time together. I informed my private patients and the prison that I would take a week off.

Ann called Ellen while Paul and I were away. Ellen drove her older sister back to Silver Hill. This time Ann allowed the nurse to check her purse. Ellen waited until Ann was shown to her room.

For the first two weeks, she was kept in isolation. She called and spoke about missing her old friend Tim, with whom she had gone to Africa. “Would you try to get his address from his mother and let him know I’m here? When I get out, I’d really like to see him again.”

I found this request encouraging. Her relationship with Tim represented healthier times in her life. For Ann, too, I believed that seeking to reestablish contact with Tim augured hope for herself.

Tim’s mother said that he was in France, working on a filmscript. She would send him Ann’s address at Silver Hill.

Dear Tim,

Greetings from your amigo, Typhoid Annie, writing to you from a beige-on-beige hospital room, currently transformed by the most dazzling luscious red roses I have ever seen, much less had the pleasure of receiving. All the nurses, experts in such matters, drop by to look and sniff. You couldn’t have sent me a more welcome gift, nor more effectively extended your caring to a lonely friend.

So here’s the Ann scoop; less than sparkling health and vitality almost ever since post-Africa days. Thanks to ongoing insurance from both Mom and Paul, a chance for more long-term confinement than anything N.Y.C. had to offer. So here I am — rather more grateful now — having checked out the options to lay very, very low and serve my time.

There’s a good part that I hope you’ll understand. I was into some pretty nasty drugs in the city. I’ve been using the time here to detoxify myself. Hooray! I’ve already started. So far, not too sick. I know it has to be a long haul, but when you return, if you should want to see me, I’ll be one Clean Machine. Hallelujah.

Tim dear, should you have the time, please keep in touch. It would mean so much to me now. All best wishes to you in every way, including filmwise.

Thank you again for my lovely roses.

Love, A.

*

Two weeks before her discharge Ann no longer needed methadone. Her doctor gave permission for a visit from Randy. I met him at the train station. We arrived at Silver Hill as staff and patients were leaving the activity buildings and walking up the winding driveway to the dining hall. Randy spotted Ann and leaped from my moving car. She ran directly into his arms.

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