“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. It’s just so…”
“I know,” Jude acknowledged. “It’s freaky, but this is about Mom. If we’re going to get her back, now is our moment.”
Hattie’s eyes widened in what Jude figured was hope and a bit of desperation.
Jude and Peter had both struggled to accept the death of their mother, but Hattie took it far harder. She abandoned the living world in lieu of her fantasy realities. Even their father, during the few weeks he lived after their mother died, could not bring Hattie out of the oblivion she vanished into.
The asylum was a maze of buildings. Jude finally found a visitor’s entrance and pushed the door open. An older woman clad in a white smock sat at a small wooden desk. She looked up sharply when they entered.
“Visiting hours are on Sunday only,” she declared.
“Hi,” Jude said brightly. “I’m so sorry to bother you. We’re not visitors, actually. We’re students at Michigan State University. Professor Humboldt sent us here to interview several patients for a research project. He said he cleared it with Dr. Staten.”
The woman frowned and opened a binder on her desk.
“Dr. Staten?” she asked gazing suspiciously at what Jude thought was a calendar. “I have no record of that here. Such activities must have an authorized signature with explicit instructions. I see none of those things.”
Jude grimaced and tried to appear confused.
“Really? Can you check again? We drove almost four hours to be here.” She pulled a sheet of paper from her purse. “My note from the Professor says right here September eighteenth at six pm. I can’t believe he’d get it wrong. I mean, he’s spent months planning this. I’m not sure when we’d even be able to come back.”
She waited, fingers crossed in her mind. Behind her she heard Hattie walking around the room, likely touching the walls for some energetic vibe from their mother. Jude nearly turned and told her to stop pacing.
The woman sighed and tapped her pencil on the calendar.
“Let me see the names of your patients. I can’t promise anything. If they’re in treatment, they won’t be available.”
Jude wanted to jump in the air and click her heels.
“Thank you. We appreciate it,” she said instead. She handed the woman her note.
The woman read the first two names, brow wrinkled, but on the third, she stopped cold.
“Sophia Gray is no longer a patient here and I do not recognize the other names on your list. Sorry girls.” She handed the page back, but neither Jude nor Hattie had missed the expression on the woman’s face.
“Was she discharged?” Jude asked.
The woman did not look up from the appointment book on her desk.
“I’m not at liberty to say. Patient information is confidential.”
“Something bad happened to her,” Hattie squeaked, and now the woman did look up eyeing Jude and Hattie suspiciously. “Which professor sent you?”
Jude considered standing her ground, and then decided against it. “Professor Humboldt, but that’s fine. We’ll come back with an updated list. He must have made a mistake.”
Jude turned, grabbing Hattie’s arm, and pulled her out the door.
Chapter 17
The Northern Michigan Asylum for the Insane
1964
Sophia
Days passed in solitary confinement. Sedated, but conscious, Kaiser or his primary nurse Alice would unstrap Sophia, wash her, change her bed clothes and return her to confinement. At some point she stopped crying. Her body felt hollow and dry. Even her brain hung suspended in her skull like a wrung out sponge. Her head ached constantly.
Kaiser arrived with new treatments. He dripped water into her eyes, taped open. He tickled her. He touched her breasts and between her legs. He encouraged her to climax. He said orgasm was another pathway to release evil spirits. He administered medication that caused her to see whirling patterns of light and huge, hideous faces. He watched her for hours, often in the dark so she never knew if she was alone.
After days or maybe weeks, Alice arrived with a gurney to return her to her room. She undid her straps and helped Sophia to sit up. Sophia tried to stand, but her weakened legs folded beneath her and she sunk to the floor. In Kaiser’s presence, Alice treated Sophia with disgust. Alone with her, she moved carefully, as if afraid.
She pushed her hands beneath Sophia’s armpits and hauled her up, shoving her awkwardly onto the gurney. Sophia curled into the fetal position and shoved her fingers into her mouth.
Her body hurt everywhere. The skin around her lips had dried and then cracked and bled. Her hands and feet tingled with a thousand pin pricks as the blood, cut off by the restraints, fought back into her limbs. Her head, raw where Kaiser had yanked her hair, throbbed with greater intensity as they moved into the hallway beneath fluorescent lights. She closed her eyes and tried to go somewhere else in her mind.
“Where has she been?” the wheels of her stretcher halted at the sound of Kent’s voice.
“In solitary. Violent thoughts. Dr. Kaiser wanted to ensure she could not harm herself or others.”
Kent did not speak, but Sophia heard the sharp intake of his breath.
“She’s been in solitary for eight days!”
“I suggest you take it up with Dr. Kaiser if you have an issue with his therapeutic recommendations.”
Sophia heard Kent scoff and the slap of his tennis shoes as he stomped away.
She opened her eyes and watched his retreating form, wanting to call him back.
Sophia woke drowsy and nauseous. She tried to move her arms and then her legs, but leather straps held her pinned to the bed. They had placed something rubbery in her mouth to keep her from biting her tongue, or perhaps from biting her doctor. The only light emanated from a single bulb so bright it pierced through her eyes and reverberated in her brain.
Closing her eyes, Sophia heard the voice of Dr. Kaiser.
“No, a lobotomy is the last thing we want here,” he argued. “At least until we’ve thoroughly researched her claims.”
“Her claims?” A woman’s voice asked. It sounded familiar. “You sound as if there could be some validity to her stories.”
“Of course not,” Kaiser snapped. “It’s nonsense, the devil’s work. But once the lobotomy is performed, there’s no reversal.”
“But if, as you say, the devil is at work in your patient, shouldn’t you take steps to close the gateway? It is in her best interests. Just last week Dr. Lewis performed a lobotomy on patient eight-seven-four.”
“The boy who claimed to be channeling his dead grandmother?” Kaiser asked.
“Yes. And since that time he’s been perfectly normal. No midnight writing sessions, no paranoia. It’s practically a miracle,” she said.
“Except miracles are exactly what we refute, aren’t they, Doctor? We live in the world of science, not miracles,” Kaiser hissed.
“Yes, of course,” the woman sounded flabbergasted.
Sophia cracked her eyes and tried to get her bearings. She’d undergone electro-shock therapy. She’d had it enough times to know the after-effects. Her head ached, and waves of nausea rolled through her. Restrained, she could not turn to throw up. She focused on calming the dizziness by staring hard at a tiny crack in the ceiling overhead.
The woman moved to Sophia’s bedside. Her hands were cold and clammy as they grasped Sophia’s face. She used her thumb to press one of Sophia’s eyelids high, leaning close to her face. Sophia recognized her as a doctor from another floor in the asylum.