Anomia - Part 5 (Finale)
‘It’s been a while.’
Nora sat across from Randy, her gentle eyes watching him almost completely devoid of contempt, something he hadn’t witnessed since Nora’s first day in the ward – which he now knew had also been his first day.
‘I know.’ Randy sighed, giving her an apologetic smile. ‘I know I’ve already said it, but I just can’t tell you how sorry I am, again. I know I’ve been nothing but frustrating to be around the last month. You just wanted to remember why you were here, and I was walking around in this completely different world, just…’
Nora leaned forward and put a hand on his. ‘It’s okay. You didn’t ask for this. You just… tried to deal with... this, however you could.’ She leaned back, closing her eyes so her tears couldn’t escape.
The closed door was the only access to the windowless room, and the table and chairs Nora and Randy sat at were the only pieces of furniture or decoration. ‘I hope Doctor Hargrove won’t be too long,’ Randy said.
‘She’ll be here soon,’ Nora said. ‘God, I just wish… I wish I could remember anything. I mean, I don’t even know what they say happened actually happened. I know it did; they have proof, pictures and whatnot, but still… everyone telling you that you… did something horrible… I just…’ She trailed off, shaking her head and looking up at the ceiling.
Randy leaned forward on the table, seeing the guilt in her eyes. ‘We have to trust them. Doctor Hargrove just wants what’s best for us; she always has.’
Nora lowered her voice and looked away, as if speaking to herself. ‘What’s best for ‘us’ might not be what’s what’s best for ‘everyone else’.’
‘Don’t worry,’ he said, holding her hand. ‘We’ll get through this. Together.’
She breathed deeply and nodded. ‘You’re right. We came here together, spent the last month running around with no clue what was happening together, and before that… We put ourselves here. Together.’
‘And now we’ll finish it together.’ Randy squeezed her hand.
‘Thanks.’ Nora smiled, shaking her head in thought. ‘It’s so weird to think that we were, what, friends? Before all this?’
‘Something like that.’
‘You did always think I was special. Turns out you just knew me before we got here.’ Nora scoffed.
‘Maybe after this, we can try to be friends again?’ Randy asked.
Nora lost herself in thought for a moment. ‘Yeah. Sure. If we ever get to see each other again, after today.’
Before either of them could consider Nora’s implication, the door opened and the doctor appeared before them.
‘Hi, guys. We’re all ready for you. Are you ready?’
Nora and Randy exchanged an unsure look before both nodding.
‘Good. Follow me, please.’
*****
Doctor Hargrove lead them through the hallway in a section of the hospital Randy didn’t recognise; it was outside of the psych ward where he’d spent the last month. They only walked a short length before the doctor stopped at the first door they passed.
‘Just remember,’ she said, turning back to them before opening the door. ‘All you have to do is be honest. Everything will be fine.’
They all nodded together and the doctor opened the door.
‘Welcome back, Doctor Hargrove,’ an elderly man said. He straightened his tie, matching his expensive looking suit, as he stood from a desk along the back wall of the room. ‘This must be Randy and Nora.’ There was no sign of interest in his voice, as if reading from a required script.
‘Yes, these are the patients. Randy, Nora, this is Doctor Beechworth,’ she said, gesturing to the suited man, ‘and Doctor Moss.’ She gestured to another doctor, remaining seated beside Doctor Beechworth; a younger man than the other two doctors, but with about half as much energy; he didn’t even bother to look up at the patients.
Randy almost put his hand out to shake, stopping himself when he realised neither of the doctors were interested.
‘You two have a seat over there,’ Doctor Beechworth said, pointing to a row of chairs across from the doctor’s seats. ‘Let’s get on with this.’
The patients did as instructed, watching as Doctor Hargrove walked around the desk to sit with her colleagues. When she did, Doctor Beechworth continued. ‘Alright. As you all know, we’re here today to discuss the continued treatment of these two patients, and whether or not they still require the specific help only our psychiatric ward can offer, or if they should be transferred to a more traditional correctional facility to serve out the rest of their sentence.
‘As I understand it, an unnecessary amount of resources have already been spent on the ‘rehabilitation’ of these two patients. Correct?’
Doctor Hargrove cleared her throat, Doctor Beechworth awaiting her answer. ‘The only real resource that was used in excess to treat the patient – Randy in particular – was convincing everyone he came into contact with to play along with the story he told them – the story he believed. Nothing more than time and a little imagination has been wasted in…’
‘Time is money, Doctor Hargrove,’ Doctor Beechworth interrupted. ‘And there are much faster, effective, simpler methods of treatment.’ He glared at her before clearing his throat and returning his attention to the patients. ‘Nevertheless, that’s not the matter we’re here to discuss, today.’
He stood, waiting, until kicking the chair of the other doctor beside him, Doctor Moss. Their young colleague jumped and looked around, remembering where he was. ‘Uh, now?’ he asked.
‘Yes, now,’ Doctor Beechworth harshly whispered.
Doctor Moss stood with a clipboard in his hands, flicking through a few papers. ‘Randy Peters and Nora Estwick,’ he read from one of the pages, clearing his throat as his voice cracked. ‘You are currently undergoing medical treatment at the Glantonville Criminal Asylum for a severe case of amnesia brought on by repressed trauma. Is that correct?’
Randy and Nora looked at each other and said, together, ‘yes.’
‘At this moment, you don’t remember why you’re here, though it has been explained to you by someone else? Doctor Hargrove, I think.’
‘Yes,’ they both said.
‘I will now read a brief description of the events that took place on the night you were sent to Glantonville Asylum. The emergency…’
‘I’m sorry, Doctor Moss,’ Doctor Hargrove interrupted, ‘but would it be too much to ask if I read the report?’
Doctor Moss looked at Doctor Beechworth, who impatiently rolled his eyes, but snatched the clipboard from him and handed it to Doctor Hargrove.
‘Thank you,’ she said, standing. She gave the two patients an apologetic look before she began to read, her voice calm and soothing despite the subject matter. ‘The emergency services were called on the night of October 18th, just over one month ago. An ambulance was requested at the location of a serious traffic collision by a hysterical man. When the ambulance arrived, Randy Peters – present with us, here – was found in the passenger’s seat of one of the involved vehicles, moving in and out of consciousness, the phone still on the line with the emergency services in his hand. In the driver’s seat of the same vehicle was Nora Estwick – seated before you – unconscious. The vehicle’s front fender was damaged, though not too severely. Neither passenger had received any serious physical injuries.
‘The other involved vehicle was almost completely destroyed. In the driver’s seat of that vehicle was a woman, Hannah Davies, unconscious, with several severe wounds. The front passenger was the woman’s daughter, Angel Davies, also severely injured, and unconscious. In the backseat was Hannah’s son, Andrew Davies, who, while also unconscious, had not received as severe damage. While the ambulance team did everything they could for the two front passengers, the mother and daughter passed away on the scene. The son was taken to the closest hospital, where he is currently in a coma and recovering from his injuries. Hannah was 39 years old, and Angel and Andrew were 16 and 19, respectively.’
Doctor Hargrove took a deep breath, looking up at the patients and the doctors in the room. Randy’s head was bowed, his eyes closed, as if hiding from the world. Nora had her head leaning back, tears streaming down her face, her gentle sobs filling the otherwise silent room.
‘When Randy and Nora were taken to the same hospital, an excessive amount of alcohol and illegal substances were discovered in both their systems. After a thorough investigation, it was concluded that in the middle of the night, while under the influence, Nora drove through a red light at an intersection while the Davies drove through their green light. The result was the fatal collision.
‘When Randy and Nora were able to speak again, they were informed of what had happened. Both patients experienced a dangerous amount of guilt, sorrow, disbelief, even an inability to reason, and as a result, they both experienced a self-imposed amnesia. When they were unable to return to themselves, regain their memories, they were sent here, to Glantonville, in hopes of retrieving their memories through a different kind of treatment.’
Doctor Hargrove sat back down, sliding the clipboard across the table to Doctor Moss. He took it without any acknowledgement and Doctor Beechworth stood.
‘Do you both agree with these statements?’ he asked the patients. ‘Including not being able to remember anything?’
Randy and Nora both nodded, Randy still looking down and Nora still sobbing.
‘Verbally, please,’ he added.
‘Yes,’ Randy said, looking up for a painful moment. ‘I agree.’
Nora sniffled before murmuring, ‘yes.’
‘Good. Now, the next few questions are very important, so think about your answers carefully. Firstly: neither of you have yet regained your memories and are still in a state of self-imposed amnesia?’
‘Yes,’ Nora said, scoffing through her tears.
‘Do you have something to add?’ Doctor Beechworth asked, incredulous.
‘I just don’t like the way you say self-imposed. Like I chose this.’
‘Well, Miss Estwick, as a matter of fact, you did choose this. You and your friend received no serious injuries in the collision, and thus, your inability to remember anything before you came here is your brain trying to save you some unpleasant feelings. Even if it’s subconscious, your amnesia is self-imposed.’
Nora sighed and buried her face in her hands, realising it was pointless to argue. Doctor Beechworth kept his glare on her for a few uncomfortable moments before turning to Randy.
‘And you?’
‘I… Yes, I agree. But, my situation was a little different to Nora’s.’ The doctors all waited for elaboration; even Nora glanced at him from the side. ‘Well, when I got here, I didn’t exactly forget everything. I just replaced my real memories with fake ones. So I thought I had been here much longer, thought I knew everyone. I just didn’t remember anyone’s names; that was my explanation for being here. It’s called anomia.’
Doctor Beechworth stared at him through narrowed eyes, while Doctor Moss didn’t bother to lift his head and Doctor Hargrove gave him an encouraging smile. ‘I’m fully aware of your… condition,’ Doctor Beechworth began, ‘but the question was if you still could not remember anything prior to being here. I don’t care if you think you remembered something false. Do you remember the car crash?’
Randy froze up at the doctor’s direct and frustrated tone. ‘I… No. I don’t.’
‘That was all you had to say.’ Doctor Beechworth’s lips spread in a venomous, sarcastic grin.
‘If I may,’ Doctor Hargrove spoke up, to Doctor Beechworth’s obvious impatience. ‘Randy, now that you know that you haven’t been here for as long as you’d thought, that your anomia was really just a coping mechanism of sorts, what do you think of your time here?’
Randy thought about the question. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’d like to know how you’ve accepted that you were living in a different reality. Do you understand that now, and simply can’t remember anything before, like Nora? Or is a part of you still stuck in that reality, and while you do understand your situation, you still can’t quite believe what you’ve been told is real?’
‘Doctor Hargrove,’ Doctor Beechworth interrupted, ‘this is hardly relevant to the question.’
‘Please, Randy,’ Doctor Hargrove continued, ignoring her peer. She nodded for him to answer.
‘Well, I, uh…’ he began, unsure of what they all wanted to hear. ‘I guess maybe it’s a little of both. I do understand what I’ve been told. I understand the car crash happened, and… we’re to blame. I know that I just came up with this other story for myself to avoid dealing with the trauma of what happened. But… yes, even though I understand all that, part of me still doesn’t quite believe it. I feel like I’m still stuck in that other reality where everything was easier, where I just couldn’t remember names, where… I didn’t make such horrible mistakes.’
The three doctors were silent, though each for different reasons. ‘Thank you, Randy,’ Doctor Hargrove said. She turned to Doctor Beechworth. ‘See? Neither of them have yet fully recovered. They belong here, in my ward, where I can continue to help them…’
Doctor Beechworth held up a hand, silencing her. ‘The next question.’ He glared at Doctor Hargrove before turning back to the patients, his annoyance increasing. ‘Do you feel that your time here under Doctor Hargrove’s care, being subjected to her treatment, has yielded any kind of positive results?’
Randy decided to answer for them both, Nora still unable to respond through her sobbing. ‘I think it has.’
‘You ‘think’ it has?’ Doctor Beechworth asked.
‘Yes… it has. In my opinion.’
‘Would you care to further elaborate your… opinion?’ Doctor Beechworth said with a sigh, as if the last word was some kind of myth.
‘I believe everything Doctor Hargrove has done for us in the last month has been beneficial to mine and Nora’s mental states. She convinced an entire ward to go along with my… delusions,’ he said, closing his eyes with the word, ‘in order to save me from excessive trauma. When she did reveal the truth to me, she did so as gently as possible, in order to preserve my sanity as much as she could.’
‘I see,’ Doctor Beechworth said, though his tone suggested the opposite. ‘How intact do you think that sanity is, now, after learning the truth?’
Randy paused, unable to think of an appropriate answer. ‘I… I suppose if you ask me, I would say that I’m perfectly sane. That I don’t belong here – that neither of us do. But when I look at you three, and I remember that I am in here, and why… The fact that none of it feels like it ever happened means I do belong here, I suppose. Not being able to remember a chunk of our lives doesn’t exactly make us normal. So I guess we are somewhat insane… But Doctor Hargrove believes that makes up only a small part of us. That the rest of us is worth saving. And that makes her treatment the safest, kindest, most important thing in both of our lives right now.’
Randy watched all three doctors – Doctor Hargrove with her hand on her chest and a friendly, grateful smile, Doctor Beechworth on the verge of rolling his eyes, and Doctor Moss still too uninterested to have heard anything Randy had said.
‘Can I assume that you agree with this statement?’ Doctor Beechworth asked Nora.
Nora only looked up long enough to meet the doctor’s eyes, then Randy’s, and gave a quick nod before looking back down, her eyes wet.
‘Verbally, please.’
‘Yes.’
‘Fine. And now, for your final question. Do you believe that you deserve to stay here, rather than going to prison, where anyone outside of your special circumstances would already be… where you would, in a more normal situation, belong?’
Randy opened his mouth to answer, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, it was Nora who spoke up through her tears, quick inhales between sobs and words. ‘I don’t know.’ Doctor Beechworth raised his eyebrows expectantly, obviously wanting more. ‘I don’t know where we belong. I think… wherever we end up, it won’t be good enough. It won’t be punishment enough.’
Randy cleared his throat. ‘Nora, it’s okay,’ he began, but she continued.
‘We killed a mother and her daughter. No, I… I killed them. I was the one driving. I don’t deserve to be here, or in prison… what could ever make up for what I did? And, what, just because I can’t remember doing it – because I’d rather that than remember the guilt – I should be treated better than anyone else? Oh, god…’ She buried her face in her hands. ‘I’m so sorry. I…’ Nora trailed off in hysterical tears, murmuring apologies.
Doctor Beechworth sighed, apparently unmoved by Nora’s emotional display. Doctor Hargrove, on the other hand, stepped in. ‘It’s okay, Nora. You do deserve to be here. What happened was tragic, yes, but not inexcusable. You belong here, where you can get the help you need to become a better person, fit to return to society.’
‘If I may,’ Randy said, wanting to add to Nora’s confession. ‘Even though she was the one driving, whatever you decide for Nora, I deserve equal punishment. I don’t want to be treated any lighter than her.’ He put a hand on Nora’s back, going largely unnoticed. ‘We’re in this together.’ He nodded at the doctors, confident in his chivalry.
‘I assure you,’ Doctor Beechworth said, ‘our decision for both of you will be equal, and would regardless of your insistence.’
There was a tense silence in the room, occupied only by Nora’s constant whimpers, until Doctor Moss cleared his throat and stood. ‘Are we done, yet?’ he asked, looking at Doctor Beechworth. ‘That’s all the questions?’
‘Yes,’ Doctor Beechworth said, only slightly less annoyed with his colleague than he had been with the patients. ‘The patients can be escorted back to their quarters, Doctor Hargrove. In the meantime, we’ll deliberate on what to do with the two of them.’ He glared at the patients, only Randy paying enough attention to notice. ‘When we decide, you’ll be informed.’
*****
Randy lay in his bed for what felt like hours, only moving to roll over or rearrange his thin, scratchy blanket or firm pillow. He wondered over and over what fate the three doctors would choose for him; though Doctor Hargrove had been confident that neither he nor Nora were going anywhere outside her ward, he couldn’t shake Doctor Beechworth’s icy discontent with what seemed like the patients’ very presence. If it came down to a vote, Randy couldn’t imagine the ignorant Doctor Moss caring enough to side with Doctor Hargrove. As well as she meant, it seemed likely they’d soon be in a much more uncomfortable environment.
He wanted to be left with Nora, even if just for some assurance that should it be decided they’d be sent to a regular prison, she would change her tune of overwhelming guilt and plead to stay in the Glantonville psychiatric ward. Perhaps there was even a way he could convince her to rid him of some of the blame; after all, she had been the driver of the fatal collision.
Instead, they’d both been told to stay in their rooms, alone, while the doctors discussed their fate. When Doctor Hargrove finally returned, she opened the door and stood in its opening, waiting.
Randy turned over to look at her, arms folded across her chest, her face a wave of confusion, disappointment, even perhaps a little anger; emotions he hadn’t seen on her since the fight he’d had with Nora in the library.
‘Doc?’ he asked.
‘Please come with me, Randy,’ she simply replied, turning and leaving the room.
He obeyed, standing and quickening his pace to catch up with her. Something was clearly wrong; she’d always waited for him, always made conversation on their walks together. Now she was silent all the way back to the room where Doctor Beechworth had interrogated them earlier.
When he entered behind Doctor Hargrove, not even bothering to hold the door open for him, he realised the issue. All three doctors sat in their previous seats, Nora also in hers, but someone new sat in one corner of the room, alongside the doctors’ desk. The young man had his head bowed, expressionless, hands folded together leaning on his knees. He barely moved, but Randy caught a glimpse of some scars and bandages on his face and neck.
‘Who’s this?’ Randy asked, not admitting that he already had some idea of the answer, hidden away in his memory.
‘Please, Randy,’ Doctor Hargrove said with impatience almost matching Doctor Beechworth’s, ‘just sit.’
He did, sitting back beside Nora, trying to gauge if she knew what was happening, but her face was still hidden behind her hands and guilt. Her dry, red eyes had stopped producing tears, but her manic sobbing hadn’t ceased.
‘Well,’ Doctor Beechworth began, more chipper in tone than Randy had thought possible, ‘we’ve been provided a little excitement for your situation. Son, would you please introduce yourself?’
He looked at the boy, as did everyone else in the room. ‘Uh,’ he began, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. ‘My name is Andrew. Andrew Davies.’
The boy spoke without looking up, for which Randy was grateful. He had no desire to meet the young man’s eyes. Nora, however, had other ideas.
‘Andrew…’ she mumbled, finally looking up through her irritated eyes. Her eyelids, cheeks, and nostrils were red and raw. ‘You… You’re…’
‘The boy whose mother and sister’s lives you are responsible for,’ Doctor Beechworth said, speaking to Nora but looking at Randy. ‘He awoke from his coma two days ago, and the hospital recently advised us he would be capable of coming here for a visit. And a testimony.’
Randy’s heart throbbed in his throat at the revelation, but Nora hadn’t even heard. She stood from her seat, eyes glued to the boy, and tried to approach him. Almost instantly, she fell to her knees and began to weep without tears. ‘I… I can’t…’
Andrew looked up at the commotion as Nora tried to crawl towards him, holding one hand out as if pleading for her life.
‘I’m so… so sorry,’ she wailed. There was a hint of disbelief in her voice, as if confronting the boy who’d been present in the car crash had solidified what she’d done in a way that just hearing it from the doctors never could. ‘Oh my god, I… Please, I…’ she began, continuing to murmur apologies, though never asking for any kind of forgiveness from the boy who watched her almost without any expression, only a hint of frustration – perhaps even a little sadness for Nora – through his bruised and beaten features.
‘It’s okay, Nora.’ Doctor Hargrove finally interrupted the display, coming around the table to guide Nora to her feet. She pulled her into her arms, holding her and patting her back and shushing her with the care of a parent, while Nora struggled to breathe through her mumbled apologies and sobs.
‘If we may continue,’ Doctor Beechworth spoke while Doctor Hargrove took Nora back to her chair, staying beside her to comfort her. ‘Young Andrew here has something he’s already shared with us, that he’d now like to share with you.’ Randy, again, assumed the doctor was talking to both patients, but only looked at Randy with a hint of a smug grin.
‘O… Okay,’ Andrew began, his voice small in the room, smaller than Nora’s anguish. ‘Where do you want me to start?’
Doctor Hargrove answered, still holding Nora. ‘Start from wherever you’re comfortable, Andrew. It’s okay.’
Andrew cleared his throat again. ‘I… I was staying at my friend’s house, I guess. He… He and I had a fight. So I asked my mum to pick me up. I knew it was late, but, I don’t know… I just didn’t want to be there. My mum understood that, and… and she’s always there for me.’ He closed his eyes and shook his head, not correcting himself on his chosen tense. ‘Because it was late, though, Angel would have to come. My… my sister.’ He drew his breath in, slowly, letting it out for even longer. ‘She hates staying home alone at night. She gets scared. Even though she’s almost an adult, she’s scared of monsters.’ He laughed once, more sad than humoured. ‘So they both came to pick me up. I waited outside my friends house, and my mum and Angel came faster than I’d have thought you could make the trip. But they pulled up fast, and I got in, and they asked me all about it, and I told them, and they listened. We drove around for a long time, talking about the fight… we could’ve just gone home, and gone to bed, but they both wanted to hear about it; wanted to help. My mum gave me some good advice, like she always does. Even Angel chimed in… she’s not as smart as mum, but she cares about me, so it was nice to hear her input.
‘When we were about ready to go home, mum told me I should talk to Ken tomorrow – that’s my friend’s name. And I said I would. And she said okay, good. Andrew, I’m…’
Andrew trailed off, interrupted by tears of his own, much more subdued than Nora’s still muffled against Doctor Hargrove’s shoulder.
‘That was the last thing she said. She couldn’t finish,’ Andrew continued, breathing heavily through the words. ‘Out of nowhere, a… another car came at us. I saw the headlights from the back seat. The just got brighter and brighter, in a split second, but it felt… it felt so long. I saw my mum and Angel in the front, their faces… in the headlights. And then the car hit us.’
Andrew dropped his head, trying to hold in his tears, while Nora gasped across the room, unable to produce any more tears or any other sounds. Doctor Hargrove still held her, patting her back and running her hand down her hair. ‘It’s okay, Nora. Andrew? Please, continue, when you’re ready.’
Andrew looked at her, eyes wet through his rapid blinking as tears fell down his cheeks. He breathed deeply, rubbing his brow. ‘I didn’t know right away what had happened. But I opened my eyes and saw glass, and, I don’t know, debris? And… and blood. All over the car.’ He breathed again, trying to control himself. ‘I couldn’t see anything out of the car. I couldn’t… think, or feel anything, except my head hurt a lot. But I still tried to… I tried to help them. It… it was too late, I think I knew already. But I still tried. I moved to help… to help Angel first.’ He wiped both his eyes so hard his fingers and cheeks went white. ‘It was… it was too late. There was blood, and, and…’
‘It’s okay, Andrew,’ Doctor Hargrove said again, her voice comforting. ‘You don’t need to relive that. Just say what you told us again.’
Andrew looked up slightly, dropping again and nodding. ‘When I moved to help… There was a hole in the windscreen I could see through. The rest was covered in cracks. And… and through the hole, I saw the other car. It was a big, a big car, and it looked a little rough, but not as bad as ours, I could tell. And I saw… saw someone moving.’
Andrew’s voice took on a different tone from the sad, grieving boy, now growing with rage.
‘I watched them moving out there, in the other car. And it took a moment to focus, but when I did, I knew what I was watching.’
Randy swallowed, his heart racing in his chest so loud it almost drowned out Andrew’s confession.
‘It was a man, stumbling around out of the car. And I watched, waiting for him to come help us, to see if we were alright, but… he never did. Instead, he looked at his car, and he looked at his friend. She wasn’t moving in the passenger seat. And then he stumbled around to the driver’s side, and he… he undid her seatbelt from across both seats. And then he pulled her over into the driver’s seat. He did it so fast, like she weighed nothing… like he was desperate. And then he put her seatbelt back on, while she still wasn’t moving, behind the wheel.’
Nora’s whimpers and gasps had settled, though she was still buried against the doctor. Randy’s eyes darted from person to person in the room, though all were on Andrew. Only the boy himself was staring directly at Randy, and Randy found he couldn’t maintain the eye contact for more than a moment, staring at the ground instead.
‘Then he stood up, and he pulled out his phone and called someone. I watched him put the phone back in his pocket, take a deep breath, and walk around the car and get in the passenger’s seat. Then he put his seatbelt on, leaned his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.
‘I remember the breathing most of all. Even across that intersection, through the glass and damage. I remember thinking, he’s sitting there breathing, while… my mother and sister will never get to breathe again.’
Andrew’s glare stayed on Randy in the tense silence after he finished speaking, never moving even as everyone else in the room began to speak again. Randy couldn’t hear what they were saying, their voices muffled blurs; all he knew in that moment was their eyes, every pair in the room, digging into him.
‘Well, Randy?’ Doctor Beechworth said, Randy’s senses finally returning. ‘Do you care to explain?’
‘I…’ Randy swallowed and stammered, his mind racing far too fast for his words to match. ‘There isn’t…’
‘Randy.’ Doctor Hargrove’s voice was so stern it made Randy jump back. ‘Do you have anything to say for yourself? Anything regarding Andrew’s statement?’
‘I didn’t…’
‘Randy?’ Nora said, her voice so small it would’ve been lost if anyone else had been speaking. ‘What are they saying?’ Confusion, grief, utter misery still crept into her tone, though it was beginning to be replaced with anger as her understanding set in. ‘You… You moved me? You were driving, and you made it look like I was? You fucking let me believe I killed those people, when… you did it?’
‘No, I only… it’s not like… come on, I don’t…’ Randy stammered. ‘The boy had just… just been in an accident. He probably hit his head, you know? Who knows what he saw? He could just be confused, I mean, I wouldn’t have… I didn’t…’
‘Randy,’ Doctor Hargrove said. ‘I don’t think it was an accident. And I think you know what happened.’
‘No, it doesn’t…’
‘Mister Peters,’ Doctor Beechworth said, ‘please, save us all some time and just tell us what happened.’
‘I… I can’t, I just…’
‘What the fuck, Randy?’ Nora peered at him through narrow, disgusted eyes, her grief now blanketed with rage. ‘What fucking happened in that car? You… you fucking tried to blame it all on me? What is wrong with you?’
‘No! No, Nora, please, it’s not like that.’
‘Randy,’ Doctor Hargrove said, her voice calmer than anyone else’s, but still void of any sympathy. ‘Were you driving when you hit Hannah Davies’ car?’
‘No! Look, it’s not like that, okay!? Nora was supposed to drive! We were at the party, and we decided, together, that she’d drive home at the end of the night! So I got fucked up, right? Because I was allowed to! And then, Nora drank too much anyway, when she wasn’t supposed to, and I told her she still had to drive because we had to get home somehow, right? And we’d agreed! But instead of listening to me, she got in the passenger side and passed out before I could even give her the keys, so I had to drive, okay? It’s not my fault, I mean, she was supposed to drive. We’d agreed, together. It was her fault that we hit that car, not mine. I only moved her so that there wouldn’t be any confusion about that. I didn’t do anything wrong here! You… you all see that, don’t you?’
The stunned silence that followed was only occupied by Randy’s heavy, nervous breathing. As Andrew Davies tried to hold in his angry tears, Doctor Beechworth still gave a smug grin; even the disinterested Doctor Moss glanced at everyone in the room with wide eyes, as if to ensure he’d just heard what he thought.
Doctor Hargrove shook her head with incredible disappointment, her arms still around Nora. Nora was the only one to speak, and when Randy looked at her beside him, her features were etched with disgust. ‘You’re a fucking monster,’ she seethed.
EPILOGUE
Jason followed the guard through the bland concrete halls, passing rows and rows of sealed and locked doors, wondering when they’d stop at his. His wrists were starting to hurt in the handcuffs, and he missed being able to spread his unbound feet apart to walk normally.
When the guard finally stopped, he knocked on the door a few times before fumbling with a set of keys to unlock it. ‘Peters,’ he yelled through the closed door. ‘Look alive. New cellmate’s here.’
Jason waited for the guard to open the door and escort him inside. Another prisoner stood against the back wall, hands by his sides, and while the guard removed Jason’s restraints, he studied his new cellmate. The man was thin, almost malnourished-looking, his features gaunt and hollow. Only his eyes seemed to have any energy at all; there was a strange excitement in them, disturbing to see in the otherwise sickly frame.
‘Lunch is in an hour,’ the guard said, standing after taking off Jason’s ankle cuffs. ‘Make yourself comfortable. This is your new home.’ He gave a single nod, more friendly than Jason would expect from a man of his position, and left, closing and locking the door behind him.
Jason turned back to his cellmate. Before he could introduce himself, the thin man approached him, his face uncomfortably close as he spoke. ‘What’s your name?’
‘It’s… Jason,’ he said. He already sensed he wasn’t going to get along with this deviant. ‘Yours?’
‘Randy. Randy Peters.’ He stepped back to give a small bow, further increasing Jason’s discomfort. Did he think he was being funny? Or was this his regular behaviour? ‘Don’t worry,’ he continued, his face back in Jason’s, ‘we’ll get along just fine. I’m not going to try to intimidate you, or anything. Not like some of the guys in here will.’
Jason looked his skinny build up and down; he couldn’t imagine being intimidated by Randy, especially considering his own tall, well-exercised frame. ‘I don’t think that’ll be an issue.’
Randy smiled, an unsettling grin Jason wished he hadn’t prompted. ‘You’re funny, Jason. I think we’re going to get along.’ He turned and jumped into his bed – a small, thin mattress on a frame of wire and springs – and Jason sat on his on the other side of the cell, hands on his knees. ‘How long are you going to be in here for, Jason?’
‘Too long for it to matter.’ He didn’t want to think about why he was here. He only wanted to tune out, let time pass by in a trance as he followed his schedule and rode out the next overwhelming number of years. It was the only way he’d be able to stay sane.
‘I’ve already been here for a year,’ Randy continued. ‘My last cellmate was a nice guy. A little creepy, but, you know. He got out a couple of weeks ago.’
‘He was released?’
‘No, they took him somewhere else. An asylum. Turns out he needed more help than he was getting here. It’s a real shame.’ Jason looked at him quizzically. ‘Trust me, a place like this is better than one of those. No one respects you there. Everyone just thinks you’re crazy.’
Jason ignored the hint of resentment seeping through Randy’s overly friendly tone. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’
Randy smiled, rolling over to face Jason. ‘So, the big question. Why are you here?’
‘This is where the guard put me, Randy.’
Randy laughed, his giggle almost as off-putting as his grin. ‘No, that’s not what I meant. Why…’
‘I know what you meant.’
Randy stopped abruptly, his eyes wide, before nodding with understanding. ‘Well, I can tell you why I’m here.’ Jason lay down on his uncomfortable mattress, closing his eyes to listen to Randy, knowing he was going to hear the explanation whether or not he wanted to. ‘It’s actually pretty funny. Not really my fault, either.’ It never is, Jason thought. ‘I was in a car crash where a mother and her kid died. Another of her kids made it, though, but he’s the one that put me here, really. See, after the crash, I couldn’t remember anything. Or, I thought I did remember, but it turns out, my brain was just trying not to remember, so it made up its own version instead. Weird, right?’ Jason opened his eyes, watching the ceiling as Randy spoke. ‘Anyway. My doctor told me about the lie I’d been convincing myself was real. After that, I remembered everything. All of it.’
Jason glanced at Randy out of the corner of his eye, the talkative cellmate sighing heavily. Jason looked back at the ceiling before Randy could notice.
‘But, I pretended I still couldn’t remember. You see, there was a girl who was with me in the car, and the accident was her fault, but no one else could see that. I knew they wouldn’t. So I had to pretend not to remember, so that we’d get our fair punishments. At the time, I thought I wanted to stay there, in the ward. Turns out that was stupid. This place is much better.’ Randy’s voice shook almost imperceptibly, as if he was trying to convince himself. ‘She stayed there, though; the girl whose fault it was. Nora. She still couldn’t remember anything, turns out. And the good doctor Hargrove still wanted to help her. Not me, though.’ Randy sighed again.
‘They put you in prison just for being in a car crash?’ Jason asked. ‘When your girl was the one driving?’
‘Oh, well, I was driving,’ Randy corrected, without a hint of shame. ‘But she was supposed to drive, right? That’s why it wasn’t my fault.’
Jason sat up and rubbed his brow. ‘So… she made you drive?’
‘Well, she was too fucked up to to even open her eyes, so she couldn’t drive. I had to, instead. I know what it sounds like – they all made sure I knew – but honestly, I don’t see how I can still get the blame for this.’
Jason finally met Randy’s eyes, not a hint of remorse in them. ‘Sounds like you killed a mother and her kid.’
‘Well, that’s… one way to look at it.’ Randy threw his hands up defensively. ‘But even if I was driving, it still isn’t my fault. You see what I’m saying?’
‘Oh, yeah, I see. Can I ask you something?’ He folded his large hands together. ‘Your girl who was too fucked up to drive. You guys were partying together? You were drunk, too?’
Randy laughed. ‘Drunk? I was wasted. Not just drinking, either. A few other things that’d get someone put here, alone.’
Jason hid his disgust when Randy winked, forcing a smile instead. ‘You know what? I will tell you why I’m here, Randy.’ Randy sat up as well, his interest piqued. ‘I killed a guy.’ Randy’s eyes widened, but there was no fear, only intrigue. ‘Yep. Beat the shit out of him with my bare hands. When I was done, he was still breathing, but he died in the hospital a day later.’
‘I believe you; you’re a pretty big guy,’ Randy said, as if this was a casual conversation between friends.
Jason ignored him, standing. ‘Now, I feel bad about what I did. I didn’t take any pleasure in it. The thing is, I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to hurt him… really hurt him.’ He paced around the room as he spoke, his hands still together.
‘He must’ve deserved it,’ Randy added.
Jason pointed at him. ‘He did, Randy. He really did. Do you know why?’ He approached Randy and crouched down to his level, still seated on the bed, his hands on Randy’s knees. ‘This guy? He liked to drive while fucked up, too.’ Jason kept his fake smile displayed, Randy still not sensing any reason to be afraid. ‘And this guy, one time he was driving? Absolutely ploughed into my girl, while she was just crossing the street. She was following the green light and everything. He killed her. Isn’t that something? She didn’t die straight away, but I didn’t get to see her again. Didn’t get to talk to her. The last thing we ever talked about was a movie we’d watched a few nights ago. And then… never again.’
Jason’s grip on Randy’s knees was becoming uncomfortable, while he still forced his smile, eyes growing wet.
‘Wow,’ Randy said. ‘That’s… yeah. Okay.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I guess… Was it his fault, though?’
Jason scoffed. ‘Say again, Randy?’
‘I mean, was it his fault? Or was it like my situation, where…’
He couldn’t finish his sentence before Jason’s fist flew into his jaw, cracking into it with the force of a hammer. Randy hadn’t even seen Jason’s arm move, but in the next moment, Randy was laying on the bed, holding his throbbing face, while Jason stood over him.
‘Here’s how things are going to go in here, Randy.’ Jason pulled Randy to his feet by his collar as if he was a doll. ‘I’m going to go easy on you, for now, because we’re going to be in here a long, long time, together. But this?’ he said, holding up his fist, Randy flinching at the movement. ‘This is never going to stop for you. Do you understand?’
Randy felt tears rolling down his cheeks as he frantically nodded.
‘Good.’ Jason smiled, before slamming another fist into Randy’s stomach, causing him to keel over and struggle to breathe. Jason threw him like a toy into his bed, crashing against the wall and bouncing on the mattress. Jason calmly lay back on his own bed, relaxed, hands behind his head with a small grin. ‘You’re right, Randy. This place might not be so bad.’
Randy wished in that moment there was somewhere he could hide, but the small cell that was his, and now Jason’s, home provided no options. Instead, he folded into himself, holding his jaw and his gut to ease the pain, and sobbed, the sound like music to his cellmate’s ears.