Apparitions, page 14
I dreamed about him the other night. It was like the night he left me behind. His blond head shining blue in the moonlight. Except he didn’t leave me behind. He took my hand and pulled me with him, and we rose above the ground and ran on the air, higher and higher, our feet brushing the treetops. The moon was a bright opening in the sky, and we ran toward it. Neither of us looked down.
We stopped running. We were about to step into the moon the way you step into a room.
Felix signed, You ready?
The moon’s white light washed over me, its glow like a soft weight on my chest. I didn’t know what was on the other side of it. I signed, Yes.
You sure?
Yes.
He let go of my hand. We hovered in the air for a moment. Smiling at each other. His entire body glowed white. His eyes completely lit up. I reached for his hand to kiss it.
I fell. He stayed where he was. Still smiling.
I didn’t scream. I wasn’t surprised—only sad. He stepped into the moon and disappeared into that white light. I stared at the ground as I fell. Wind blew up at me. The prairie below got bigger and darker—the whole earth looked like an enormous hole.
I woke up before I landed, lying on my side facing the white brick wall, the taste of dirt in my mouth.
👁
He’s here. In the prison. My father. When my lawyer told me, I punched through the table. I wanted to blow a hole through the wall and run. I thought I had more time.
His name is Kellan Gray. Knowing his name made me angrier—it was like naming a pile of shit. I picked up a chair to swing it through the glass in the meeting room, but my lawyer held up her hands and some of the guards pulled out their sticks until I put the chair down.
They’re keeping him in the infirmary. He tried to escape and got into a fight; a guard broke his eye socket. They took blood from him while they stitched him up. I gave them my blood yesterday. When I asked my lawyer to move me to a different wing, she said they’re working on it.
He’s killed people. A lot of people. Sold drugs and guns. They found his marriage certificate, but they can’t find Bethany, my mother. They think he might’ve killed her too. He hasn’t said anything. He doesn’t know I’m here. They said I’m a surprise witness. I asked what that means, but when the interpreter tried to explain, his thick meaty fingers wobbling through the air, I still didn’t understand.
I don’t know how my mother and father met. Don’t know if they have brothers and sisters. Don’t know if their parents are still alive. Don’t know if she had ambitions, or if she ever escaped her house, or fought to get me back.
When I was at her house, she sometimes bathed me. Ran the water and put me in the tub. I couldn’t enjoy it. She never paid attention to me the rest of the time, so when she pulled me toward the bathroom it always felt sudden. I thought she wanted to hurt me. Drown me. I fought her in the water until she was soaked and left me alone. The water was all over the bathroom floor and she walked out. I would wait until the water in the tub got cold before I left.
There was one time where I enjoyed it. I held my breath and let my arms float around. I let her scoop water into a cup and pour it on my head. I let her watch me with her sad eyes. I might’ve been sick.
They buried someone yesterday, in the graveyard behind the prison. A man whose head was crushed in a fight. I saw the burial from the window in the shop. Two men digging and lowering him in. All the graves have the same little rock.
I don’t know what I’d do if I was released from this place. I can’t see the future. My head is too full of what happened; I have to squint to see what’s happening now. There are so many little things to know about how to live in the world, and it feels impossible to learn them all.
I will not be buried out there. I refuse to be put back below ground. I want to live in the air and stay in the light and touch the sky.
Royal Saskatchewan Psychiatric Hospital—Wakaw, SK
PATIENT PROGRESS REPORT
Patient Name:
Felix Jimson
DOB:
30 Oct 1963
Admitting Psychiatrist:
Dr. Harrison Pearl
Admittance Date:
2 March 1980
Reporting Psychiatrist:
Dr. Harrison Pearl
Report Date:
25 May 1980
ACTIVE MEDICATION(S)
Serentil—150 mg injection (suspended in favor of insulin therapy)
PROBLEMS AND PROGRESS
—Initial diagnosis: paranoid-type schizophrenia—
Patient continuously exhibits unruly behavior on Ward 2. He is unwilling to listen to instructions. His hearing loss has dulled his faculties and fostered an insular personality in which rules do not seem to apply to him. Delusions of persecution; has a pathological need for attention and disruption. After brief conference with nurses, his privileges were revoked, and he began insulin therapy on 7 May. Patient has responded well, demonstrating insulin’s efficacy and bucking current trends. Tried and true. Had a seizure on 10 May but otherwise no serious side effects.
(Side note: Not many patients with hearing loss come through RSPH. Will save notes for future case study on hearing loss and schizophrenia.)
RECOMMENDATION(S)
Continue insulin therapy. Assess progress at month’s end. Insulin to serve as deterrent for future misbehavior.
THIS JOURNAL BELONGS TO:
Felix Jimson
3 June 1980
FUCK THEM ALL FUCK their rules motherfucking philistine shit PIGS making fun of me why do they come after me I wish no one pain I just want to love people unruly they say someday they’ll see my enormous power that can lift them to the sky or reduce them to dust———my light is too bright it warms the visionaries and torches the weak I am unruly because I have a sun inside my chest full of love + beauty they keep punching it down trying to kill it they keep sedating me tying me down I’m too strong to be sedated within the insulin sickness my soul leaves my body and I see everything merely altered conshusness consciousness you can’t put the sun in a box I am unruly because I’m alive any silenced person who wants a place in this world is seen as insane as less as unhuman the world can be remade I’ve seen it and it’s beautiful I see the blood surging in the nurses’ and doctors’ heads I see their empty ideas how the truth skates across their eyes instead of sinking in my words are mighty wind flattening houses pulling trees out of the ground there is no difference between earth + sky I hold the universe in my hands and will share it with anyone who wants the TRUTH
4 June 1980
I miss mom. Still no word from dad.
I must pull the nails out of my own hands + rise.
CEREMONY
Because of me, Marvin didn’t sleep much. I was either sitting up practicing my signs or watching out the window for more dead bodies or screaming and punching the wall while in the middle of a nightmare. One night I woke up with bloody knuckles. Blood had smeared over the wall above my bed. Across the room Marvin lay on his side facing the wall, his hands gripping his ears. I lay back down, searching for stars through the window. I hated that I’d disturbed such a gentle person.
George returned before Felix did. He lurched into the dining room during dinner. Black and purple bruises shone on his arms and neck. From where I sat, I thought he’d had drawings put onto his arms like the long-haired man with the snakes and skulls. His eyes moved quicker. I tried to sit beside him during meals, but he kept moving away. Bernice sat with him. I sat near the nurses. Ms. Beddim had learned a few signs—no, yes, food, medicine, read—but we couldn’t talk much beyond that. In the dining room, everyone’s words surrounded me, scratched at me. I sat there, watching, bristling.
I walked past George in the hallway after dinner. He was alone. The white light overhead slid along his black hair. He smiled like his lips were weights he had to lift off the ground. That hot blush in my groin returned. I followed him. It was lights out soon. Most people were in their rooms or at the nurses’ station receiving their evening medicine. George slowed—he knew I was behind him. I took his hand. He squeezed it a moment, then let go. I pointed back down the hallway toward the storage room. He shook his head and kept walking. I grabbed his hand. He said something.
What? I signed.
I lifted his hand to my mouth. He yanked it away. His eyes flared. Hardened. He shoved me a little and jogged down the hall. I stood watching him.
Bernice tapped my shoulder, and I took her hand and started for the storage room. She stopped. Pulled me back. Weecand, she said. Thuhno. Thozemudderfuggers.
👁
A day or two later, I saw Felix at his usual spot receiving his morning injection. The sunlight flashed through his blond hair pasted flat against his head. His face a gray decayed flower. Eyes like rocks, absorbing nothing.
I gulped down my meds, then ran over and hugged him. It was like hugging a pillow.
You okay? I signed. I waved my hand before his face. What happened?
Tears seeped from his eyes. He reached out for my hand and squeezed it hard. Red streaks sliced down his forearms. A bruise curled around his neck.
At breakfast we sat apart from the other kids, who kept looking up from their food at him. He ate little, said little. Just yes or no. He never blinked.
I waited. He pushed his tray away.
Did they hurt you? I signed.
He didn’t answer until study time. We sat in the corner table—he had three or four books open at once. The other kids again sat apart from us.
They tried to drown me, he signed. That asshole Dr. Pearl held me underwater in a huge tub. They beat me, too. Hit my face, my arms. Strapped me to a bed. Felix stabbed invisible nails into his palms. Like a crucifixion. I think they did the same to George.
Everyone’s been watching me, I signed. Like they don’t like me.
Felix made a note in one of the books, then put down his pen. My priest came to see me again, he signed.
The man in black clothes?
He said my father has a new job. Why would I care? He wasn’t even supposed to visit me, but Dr. Pearl let him because he’s a priest. He tried touching my hand, but I didn’t let him. I asked if my mother knew where I was, and why my father hasn’t come. The priest wouldn’t say.
I thought you didn’t want him to come.
Felix peered around. They divide us, he signed. That’s their goal: treat us like dogs and make us despair until we do things their way or die. Can you imagine what we’d accomplish if we were allowed to just be? We’d make a light brighter than God himself could make.
He wiped his eyes. I saw everything clearly while I was up there, he signed. My life, my path, the way of the world. Everything I’ve seen and learned rolled up into one beautiful vision. One night, while I was strapped down, I was thinking about why everyone who was supposed to love me left me. My mother, my grandparents, my friends. Then I looked up, and I saw God. God visited me. He came down from the moon and stepped into the room on a beam of moonlight and touched my hand. Felix held up his left hand. God is real, he signed. He confirmed the path I’ve been following is the right path. I need to keep going and grow stronger, and I need you with me. When the time’s right, we’ll leave this place together.
Dr. O said I have a good chance to leave.
Felix frowned. How did you talk to him without me?
A woman signed for him. I told him everything that happened to me.
Felix slumped. You gave him your story?
Yes.
Why would you tell him before you tell me?
You wouldn’t let me tell you.
Felix’s eyes hardened. I couldn’t tell what he wanted—his eyes were like a shield for his thoughts.
I’ve been alone here, I signed. I can’t talk to anyone. I’m having bad dreams. I didn’t know what to do.
You didn’t tell him about our love, did you?
I asked why men can’t love men.
Felix glanced at the other kids and pulled his seat around so his back faced them. Why would you do that? he signed. Why tell him anything?
Felix said Ferfoksayx with his mouth, then reached for his pen and squeezed it in his fist. He scribbled on the paper, then dropped the pen, thrust his thumb out from his chin, and thanked me with both hands.
Ungrateful brat, he signed. I’ve spent the last few months answering all your questions. All I do is help you, but you don’t listen.
My hands shook. I listen, I signed. I’m sorry.
I thought I’d failed you, but all you do is take. Without me, you’d be a fucking monkey, strapped to a bed wasting away. He held his head in his hands and clamped his eyes shut, trying not to cry or scream. I thought of a name for you while I was up there, he signed. But I can’t give it to you now.
I’m sorry. Felix. I put my hand on his leg.
He shoved it away. Stop! What’d I tell you!
I backed away. I’ll tell you my story, I signed. I’ll show you.
I told Felix everything. My father. The basement. The empty house. The hospital. The other kids kept looking over at us. When I smelled piss and shit again, I signed quicker. The room began to shrink. I focused on Felix’s face, clinging to it with my eyes. I thought my father’s face would rush out from the corner if my eyes drifted.
Felix stared, never reacting, never interrupting except to help me find a word.
When I finished, he pulled a magazine off a shelf and showed me a picture of a dog.
Yes, I signed. One of them.
He snapped his fingers just like the woman did.
That’s the sign?
Yes. Dogs.
I waved my hand in front of my nose. The smell lingered. Something breathed from the corner to my right.
I didn’t tell Dr. O about the house, I signed. There was something there with me. I don’t know what. I felt it through the floor. Didn’t tell him about the lightning, either. There’s something in here with us. I can smell the basement room right now.
Felix blinked, then smiled. Your father is an animal, he signed. How dare he treat you like that.
Felix cupped my face with both hands. He smiled. Eyes full of gold. His whole body rose and fell as he breathed deep. The others watched us. He ignored them.
You are a living parable, he signed.
A what?
Your Deafness has preserved your holiness, your purity. You had a terrible journey, but it didn’t stain you, didn’t break you, didn’t make you a monster. You’re a miracle. My miracle.
He sat back. His fists vibrated with excitement. His eyes slid across all the books he had open—he snapped them all shut. As his hands danced on the air, the room and the smell and the thing in the corner and the other people faded away, and I leaned toward him.
Like Lazarus, or the Golem, or the creature, he signed. I want to help you preserve your holiness and share your story with the world. You and I are holy spirits. The world doesn’t see us, but we’re here, and we can touch their hearts with light. The doctors, the nurses, even the other patients, they can’t see what a gift you are. More proof of the rightness of my mission. That’s why you were brought to me, so we can show the world what is possible.
He touched my hand. I’m sorry for what I said before, he signed. I didn’t see you for the holy being you are.
He slapped his notebook down on the table and began writing fast. I stared, trying to feel his excitement. He’d dazzled me so much I didn’t bother asking what he meant.
👁
At study time I showed Felix my drawings of the monsters, with their jutting teeth and eyes that took up half their faces.
I saw these in my father’s basement, I signed. Someone gave me a book, and I drew these on the walls.
Felix smiled. His fingers spelled out G-r-i-m-t-e-e-t-h. I know that book, he signed. The Grimteeth.
What are Grimteeth?
Monsters that trade their body parts among each other. All sorts of funny mixes—tall ones give their legs to short ones, and they swap noses and eyes so their faces look weird. A little boy tries to trade with them, but they can’t. They ask to rip off his limbs, but he says no. It’s like Frankenstein’s monster but for kids.
I tried to spell the name he’d used. My fingers stumbled. What is that, what you just signed?
One of my favorite stories, Felix signed. A man gives life to a monster, and people treat the monster badly, including the man who made him, and the monster can’t take anymore.
I pointed to my drawings. These are monsters, I signed, unsure if I was stating it or asking it. Are they real?
Monsters are real, Felix signed, but they don’t look like that. Real monsters have human skin and hurt others. They’re empty inside. They smile when others suffer. They don’t know God, don’t know love, don’t have souls or faith. They destroy love and beauty and make you feel sick when you see them.
Empty inside. No heart? No guts?
I’d say that’s right.
I plucked an invisible thread from my left fist. The sign for soul.
That’s what lives inside, Felix signed. He tapped his chest with his fist.
Everyone here has souls? I signed.
Glowing, beautiful souls.
Marvin? Anders? Ms. Beddim? Dr. O? They all have one?
People without souls have no feelings. Your soul is where you feel your deepest feelings. It’s what you feel when you’re happy. When you first started signing, your soul lit up.
I smiled. Yes, I signed. It did.
Felix smiled. I could tell, he signed. Your eyes sparkled.
I want to read and write like you can.
