Page 81 of Good Half Gone

I’m overflowing with gratitude as I pull on my pants. Cal won’t be too disappointed.He loves hanging out with Bryan. “Thank you, Mary-Ann. You’re a lifesaver.”

Cal is watching TV when I come out of the room. I quickly tell him the situation while toasting him a bagel. He takes it better than I thought. When I hug him goodbye, I hold on to him so long he wriggles out of my arms.

Saturday is a mess. The patients are worked up, picking fights with each other. A fistfight breaks out between Alice and one of the other women, and when a nurse tries to split them up, she gets punched in the face. Both of them have to be put in constraints. Everyone on staff is snappy and on edge.

I feed Alice dinner, spooning corn into her mouth. She tells me she loves me for ten straight minutes, thanking me for the food. By the time her plate is empty, she’s flipped the switch. She calls me a cocksucker and tells me she hopes I die. After Alice, I bounce around helping in the clinic for a few hours, and then dispensing meds to the patients from a little window. By the time I fall into my bunk, I’m too exhausted to feel anxious. I actually sleep that night.

On Sunday morning I work in the laundry room with a small crew of patients. One group is folding towels while the other folds sheets. The laundry room is the only place in HOTI that’s warm; nicknamed the tropics by the patients. I fold towels alongside Agnes and Alice, whose moods are subdued. There was in incident in the staff cafeteria this morning that no one wants to talk about. I only know about it because I overheard Crede speaking to a nurse named Jackie.

“I told them he wasn’t taking his meds. They gave him too much freedom.”

“You two are quiet today. Where is Alma?” We’ve filled an entire cart with towels. Agnes shrugs.

“Did something happen this morning in the cafeteria?” Was it my imagination or did they both stiffen?Janiss comes to find me, sporting a new set of purple nails.

“Dr. Grayson would like you to sit in today.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised. I finish the towel I’m folding. It wasn’t on my schedule, but I’m happy to join.

Janiss looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “The whole place is going to shit, and he’s having you sit in?”

“I’m sure it will just be one session,” I say. “Then I’ll be back out to help.”

It doesn’t really matter what I say to Janiss, or how I say it: she doesn’t like me. She walks me through the D hall security doors, but she doesn’t follow me through.

“Well, go on,” she says when she sees me looking at her. “You know where it is.”

Walking down D hall is eerie. The lack of windows and yellow light set me on edge.

When I walk into Leo’s office, Alma is sitting in the seat across from Leo.

“Alma!”

I’m happy to see her.

She makes a clucking noise in the back of her throat and waves. Her gaze doesn’t linger on me like it normally does. She turns to Leo, her face pinched.

Leo and Alma communicate through nods and noises. When he asks her a question, she shakes her head for no, and gives the thumbs-up for yes. I’ve seen them do this once before and I expect them to do it now, but instead Leo opens a drawer in his desk and hands Alma an iPad. I blink at the piece of technology, in surprise. The only computers I’ve seen are the outdated desktops in the nurses’ station. Alma takes the iPad, opening the messaging app like she’s used it before while Leo uses his phone.

“Alma has something urgent to talk to me about,” Leo explains. “But I’d like to speak to you after if you could stick around.”

“Of course,” I say.

“We use the iPad to communicate sometimes, don’t we?”

Alma doesn’t answer. She’s already typing out a message using her two pointer fingers like Gran does. I sit in the extra seat, clasping my hands. Usually I’d take notes, but I wasn’t prepared to conference today. I want to ask Leo what happened and why everyone is acting cagey, but he’s hardly met my eyes.

They message back and forth, with Leo occasionally looking at Alma strangely. Finally he stands up and looks at me.

“You’ll wait here with Alma?” Before I can answer, he’s around his desk and out the door.

“What’s happening?” I ask her.

No response, Alma stares at me like a deer in the headlights, and then she looks pointedly at Leo’s desk. My eyes follow hers to the discarded iPad. I stand up, my mouth dry. She sits on her hands, rocking back and forth. I walk the three steps to his desk and pick it up. Alma motions for me to hand it to her and I do, watching as she types in the code. Then she hands it back to me, the message app open.

The message from Alma to Leo reads: BAD IS HERE

I scroll up to see the messages sent before.

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