“I remember everything about what brought me here.”
Dr. Townsend regards me for a moment. “Good. Well then.” He stands and extends his hand for me to shake.
I realize as I stand and clasp it that this is the first time he has touched me in any kind of way that might be considered kind or thoughtful.
“I wish you the very best, Rosie,” he says. “But I also wish I could have done more for you.”
“You’ve done plenty.”
I wonder as those words fly off my lips if he knows what I mean by them. I guess by the quick arching of his brows that he does.
Mrs. Crockett stands and smiles nervously. “Right. Normally at this point I’d be returning to you the belongings you arrived here with, but we no longer have your bag, as you well know. Your discharge papers have already been given to Mrs. Grissom. So. I can take you back upstairs to get your toothbrush, hair comb, and anything else in your nightstand, and to say good-bye to your roommates if you would like?”
I drop Dr. Townsend’s hand but keep his gaze. “No. I don’t need to do that.”
“All right,” she says. “Let’s go out to the reception area, then, and wait for Mrs. Grissom.”
“Good-bye, Rosie,” Dr. Townsend says calmly, as though there wasn’t a moment of tension between us just seconds before.
“Good-bye.” I turn and walk away from the doctor. I don’t look into the rooms we pass. I can hear my soft-soled shoes slapping on the linoleum like flippers on a fish, and I realize I despise these shoes. I hate that sound. Hate the blueish-gray rods they conjure. Mrs. Crockett and I exit the administration wing and the door behind us clicks shut. She leads me to one of the couches in the reception area and we sit. An uneasy silence falls between us.
“It isn’t right what you’re doing here,” I say softly, feeling safe enough to say it now.
“What did you say?” Mrs. Crockett says in a tone that suggests she heard me perfectly.
“You shouldn’t have cut into me. You shouldn’t have cut into that girl Charlotte or my other roommates as if we are less human than you. You shouldn’t have done that.”
Mrs. Crockett sits up straighter; the skin on her forehead instantly puckers in consternation. She opens her mouth, but I speak again before she can say anything.
“I know you’re probably going to say what do I know about what is best for people, but I had to say this before I left. I had to say it, and you had to hear it.”
For a moment, Mrs. Crockett appears too stunned to speak. Before she finds her voice, the phone at the reception desk rings, and both of us turn to the sound.
“All right,” the nurse says into the handset. “I’ll let her know.” She hangs up and lifts her gaze from the telephone to Mrs. Crockett. “Mrs. Grissom is driving up.”
I stand.
Mrs. Crockett rises to her feet, too. “Indeed you don’t know what is best for people, Rosie,” she says.
“And you think you do? You think Dr. Townsend does? Or Dr. Melson, who sliced into me and took out what God put there?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. We do.”
“But why do you get to decide what is best, Mrs. Crockett? Why do you get to decide what the best looks like? Why do you get to decidethat?”
The woman doesn’t have a ready answer. I walk to the door and wait for Mrs. Crockett to approach with her key ring. When the matron has slipped her key into the lock, I open the door myself. I turn to Mrs. Crockett as I step across the threshold.
“I will have to live with what was done to me here,” I say to her. “But so will you, Mrs. Crockett. All of you will.”
I don’t wait for a response but take the steps quickly to where a familiar car is now pulling up.
As soon as Mrs. Grissom’s vehicle comes to a stop, I open the passenger-side door.
“My goodness!” Mrs. Grissom, who looks exactly the same as last I saw her, laughs lightly as I get into the car. “Hello to you, too. I take it you’re in a hurry to be done with this place.”
I will never be done with this place, I think, but say instead as I pull the car door shut, “You would be, too.”
Mrs. Grissom waves to Mrs. Crockett, standing just outside the door on the first step. I don’t turn to do the same.
