Paige fit nicely into his side. The scent of her hair a bit like marshmallows. It was odd in that he hadn’t really smelled much in months. Or at least the weeks he’d been coherent. If the last facility he had left had any odor, he hadn’t noticed it. But he caught something from Paige’s hair. He breathed in deep, trying to define it, and use it to help himself focus on getting through the pulses.
“Your hair smells like marshmallows?” Tommy asked.
“Toasted pumpkin marshmallow.” Paige blushed. “I’m one of those crazy pumpkin spice girls.”
“In August? It is August, right?”
“Almost September, but yes. I’ll take it year-round. These are a few of my favorite things,” she sing-songed. “How are you feeling?”
His leg tingled. Pain first, indicating it was waking up, like it had gone into sleep mode in the middle of walking. “Just another minute. Sorry. Happens sometimes.” He gritted his teeth through the pain, finally feeling it reconnect with weight and the texture of the ground. He was not going to be able to walk on his own.
The first escort reappeared with a wheelchair. Dammit.
“Hey,” Paige said, touching his face gently. “It’s okay. Don’t push yourself too hard. It’s your first day. New place. That’s a little stressful.”
Tears dotted his vision, both from pain and frustration, but he let them help him into the chair. He had to lift his right leg with his hands to get his foot on the stand. Stupid thing was still tingling.
“I got it,” Paige told the escort duo as she got behind the chair and guided him inside. “Swanky.”
And it was. Glitz and glam, made to look like some high-end resort. Tommy thought, maybe that’s what it was? He could look at that in a positive light, right?
The escorts from detox vanished and a nurse appeared, though she wore a more form fitted dress and a name tag rather than scrubs. “Good afternoon, Mr. Foster. How about we give you a brief tour before we show you to your room to rest? If you’re feeling up to it?”
He was a little light-headed, that dark blot in his brain seeming to have expanded, and lights wriggled like worms around the vision in his right eye, but he nodded. Comply. Wasn’t that what had gotten him here? A step in the right direction. “Okay.”
They followed the nurse down a long hall. Tommy was glad he didn’t have to walk. He would never make it. There seemed to be a handful of long halls all crisscrossing. But they passed the cafeteria, which was where he was encouraged to eat when he had guests during mealtime. The rest of the time food would be brought to his room.
“Does he get to pick?” Paige wondered. “What he wants to eat?”
“There are weekly meal checklists. Minor choices of entrees as well as an overall food preference guide. However, we specialize in balanced meals to expediate wellbeing, both physically and mentally. Are you vegan or vegetarian at all, Mr. Foster?”
“No,” Tommy answered. He had never been all that picky until he found recently some foods seemed to trigger the weird pulses. “Just sometimes I eat something and it makes me feel weird.”
The nurse nodded. “You’ll be meeting with a nutritionist. Long day tomorrow I’m afraid. But the nurses on your wing will provide the schedule for you.” She pointed out the media room, a large space with game consoles, a couple giant TVs and some high-end Macbooks. “All media is monitored while you’re here. No phones, sorry. We do have a monitored area you can make calls out between the hours of seven a.m. and seven p.m. And anyone can call between those hours as well. We will ask you if you want to speak to them before sending them to a nearby phone.”
Still prison.
“This is a quiet room.” It was tiny, with a giant beanbag in it and a large TV playing peaceful music with nature scenes. “Considered outside of your room, but still a quiet space. We recommend spending as much time outside your room as possible. Solitude breeds anxiety and depression. Sounds of life seem to help. You will be encouraged to interact. We have activities all day long, and while you’re not required to attend them, they will help speed your healing process.”
Tommy wasn’t sure he bought into that, but had enough experience now to know that sitting in the dark alone only made him more depressed. He wondered how many other people were here and if he knew any of them. He hoped not.
Another hall and Tommy’s mom stood there waiting. She smiled when she saw him, and he returned her smile, though he still felt that weird dark mass in his brain swallowing his joy. He wanted to scream because he knew it shouldn’t be there. He should be happy to see her, but he only felt numb. She leaned over and hugged him, kissing his forehead before stepping aside to open a door. “I wanted to make sure you had some of your stuff here.”
The door was wide enough for the chair, and Paige guided him through the door and into a room. Bigger than he’d had at the last place, it had an actual bed, not a slab, with his blankets and pillows on it. A favorite blanket was tucked in a chair, one Mrs. Corbin had given him for the holidays last year. And some of his other stuff, like a guitar, and a stack of books and notebooks. Even the keyboard he used most often was set up in the corner.
His mom crossed the space to a door, and slid it back to reveal a closet with his clothes. “I brought stuff I thought you liked? Ru packed a lot of it. More everyday wear to keep you comfortable.” She pointed toward another door which was open to a large bathroom that appeared to be wheelchair accessible. “Normal bathroom products, that Ru said you use, are on the counter. Electric razor only.”
He should have been happy to see all his stuff, but this felt…permanent. Like he wasn’t leaving any time soon. The black blotch over his brain expanded again and he couldn’t stop himself from bursting into tears. Defeat crashing over him, and walloping him with hopelessness.
Paige was the first one to wrap arms around him, letting him bury his face in her shoulder. His mom was next, draping herself over him and whispering soothing things. He didn’t hear the nurse leave, but when he finally cleared his head a bit, she was gone.
“I don’t want to stay here,” he said.
“It’s not forever,” his mom assured him.
“Promise,” Paige said putting her hand over her heart. “It’s to help you get back on your feet.”
She had seen him outside. He’d been unable to stand or even walk up the stairs. And that was only the physical. The mental was so much worse. Did anyone understand that part? He knew they couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see it when he looked in the mirror. Whatever that was in his head was dead, dying and spreading maybe?
