She was there to wait while the doctors got the results of all the tests and decided what to do. Wait there with Johnny watching her.
And watching her.
“Hi,” she said just to see what he’d do.
“Hi,” he said back.
He was a big guy with a gun and a radio and handcuffs and he knew it. It was like staring down a guard dog.
There was a box of Kleenex within reach. She reached. He watched her, his eyes full of warning.
“Got to blow my nose,” she told him. She blew and wiped her nose and he seemed okay with that.
She reached for another Kleenex and this time it didn’t bother him so much, so he didn’t mind or notice the extra Kleenex she took at the same time and hid in her robe’s collar behind her head. She snorted a little, trying to clear her right nostril, scrunching her nose around. He looked at her but didn’t seem to find that exciting.
She took hold of one corner of the tissue in her hand and squished and twisted it into a point. Then she fed the point up her nostril, sucking in air to help it along. She pushed, she snorted, she drew long and deep, even threw her head back a little. The Kleenex looked as if it was going clear up her nose.
Now Johnny was scowling, paying full attention.
She sucked the whole thing up her nose and then brought her empty hands away from her face, palms visible so he could see them, and gave a little hum of satisfaction.
Ah. She had him. He was looking at her with intense, head-tilted suspicion, and hadn’t noticed how she stashed the Kleenex down her robe sleeve.
Now for the final effect. She winced in pain, shook her head to jar the Kleenex loose, then brought her hands to her right ear, dug in with her right finger, and found the end of the Kleenex—from behind her head. With a little grunt or groan with every tug, she pulled the Kleenex from her ear a little, then a little more … then a little more … and finally free, letting it hang from her fingers. “Whew!” She sighed with relief.
He actually smiled a little and wagged his head. Well, that was progress.
“Mandy?”
Ah, Dr. Angela appeared in the hallway, a folder in her hand, which had to be the results. She was smiling, which made Mandy smile—for a moment.
As the doctor came into the room, two security guys in navy blue shirts and gray slacks—their name tags said Bruce and Dave—came in with her and not just to visit. With put-on smiles they walked like actors on a stage and took positions on either side of Mandy, close enough to invade her space and make her cringe. As for Dr. Angela’s smile, there was something phony-professional about it, as if she’d taken it out of her doctor pocket and stuck it on just for the occasion.
She could have lent it to Johnny. As he stood to give the doctor his chair, he went back into wall mode, eyes on Mandy, all business. Mandy may have gotten a faint smile out of him a minute ago, but now his face was back on duty and there was nothing to like about him.
“So …” said Angela, flipping the file open. “Things are going in the right direction for you.”
Mandy leaned forward, waiting.
“First of all, we have good news as far as your medical condition. All the tests came back negative. No drugs, no alcohol, no brain damage or injury to your head. All your vitals are just fine. The only problem we still have is …” She looked in the folder at a page that had nothing to do with medical tests. Mandy could see her home phone number among a flurry of notes. “You’ve given us names and phone numbers and we’ve tried to contact these people and as far as anyone can tell”—she looked straight into Mandy’s eyes—“there are no such persons, no such phone numbers, no such addresses. Besides that, there’s no Mandy Whitacre on file with the Department of Motor Vehicles. The Social Security Administration has no record of a Mandy Whitacre with your Social Security number. There’s no Mandy Whitacre enrolled at NIC—and it’s North Idaho College now, not North Idaho Junior College. Your insurance company … well, they were bought out in 1995 and don’t exist anymore as a company.”
It had to sink in a moment. This learned doctor could not possibly be saying such things. Lies. How in the world?Somebody just wasn’t thinking. Mandy looked right back into Angela’s eyes. “And no Mandy Whitacre sitting right in front of you? I know my own name, Doctor!”
The doctor was flustered. “We know it seems real to you, but we can’t verify any of it.”
“As if I don’t know my own name and my own father? How dare you say such a thing to me!”
Angela raised her hands for a truce. “That’s not for me to decide, that’s what I’m getting to. It was my job to check you over physically, to make sure you don’t have a medical emergency, and now that’s done and my part in this is over.”
Mandy looked at Johnny, Bruce, and Dave. “So why are these guys still standing here?”
“There are some other people you still need to see.”
“And they’re going to make sure it happens, is that it?”
“They’re here to keep you safe.”
Well. Enough of this.“I’d like to leave now.”
Dave put a hand on her arm. She slapped at it. “Get your hands off me!”
Bruce took her other arm. Outrage! She reefed and twisted against their grip as her indignity built to a scream. “Let go of me! Let go!”
Angela—dear, lying, off-her-ever-loving-nut Angela—came in close, speaking softly, trying to defuse the situation. With what, more lies? More branding hera liar?
“Mandy, listen to me.”
She glared at the doctor, every muscle in her body pulling, straining against her captors. Check my heart rate now, you witch!
Angela kept trying. “You have no clothes, no shoes, no money, no ID. Do you want to go back out there with nothing but those scrubs? How long do you think you’d last?”
“Long enough to go home!” The thought made her cry. She twisted and fought some more because she doggone feltlike it.
Angela got right in her face— close enough to spit on, Mandy thought, but didn’t. “If you want to go home, then stop this, right now! Stop.”
Mandy didn’t relax but she held still, angry breath gushing into and out of her nostrils.
The doctor spoke quietly, slowly. “You are here on a police hold, which means by law you have to stay here at least twenty-four hours for evaluation, maybe longer, until everyone is satisfied you won’t be a danger to yourself or anyone else—”
Of all the stupid!“Well, what—”
“And …”
“—do you think I’m gonna do—”
“AND—are you listening?”
Mandy listened.
“There are people who will help you, they’ll listen to you and try to figure out what’s going on. But they’ll need to see that you can control yourself and conduct yourself safely around others, which means …” The doctor indicated Mandy’s situation at the moment, like a raging animal in a net. “If you want to get out of here, you’ll behave yourself so nobody has to restrain you. Does that make sense?”
Make sense?This was just so ridiculous! This really was Planet of the Apesand she really was Charlton Heston the astronaut and she was the weird one, not them, and nobody could see that.
But why would they, and what could she do about it anyway? These were the rules of the game, like it or not. She was the one in the complimentary scrubs and borrowed robe, and all she had in the world was what she knew but couldn’t prove. She wasn’t the doctor with the totally true and trustworthy folder in the big, intimidating hospital with Johnny, Bruce, and Dave working for her.
Play the game, girl. Do your time. Show them you’re okay.
She gave up and covered her face to shut out these people and this insane, impossible world.
Dave and Bruce relaxed their grip but didn’t let go.
“Bruce and Dave are going to take you to another part of the hospital and get you checked in.”