Chapter 18

“Take my hand. Go on, take it. Walk with me, just for a while.

Don’t ask me where we’re going, because I don’t know, but I’m sure you’re aware that’s usually the case. Just, let’s see where we can go, and then go beyond.”

I humoured her but, as I’m sure you’re aware, I often did. Not just her, Lucy of the Sky, with the diamonds in her eyes, but all the residents. Mucus Mickey and Bender Benny were the main characters in this story of insanity in all its many colours, of course. They were the longest serving members of our little gang. They were here even before I arrived, though, where my incarceration was voluntary – at the time, at least – they were brought in by the men in the white coats, and wearing those cute jackets that make you hug yourself.

Lucy, however, was different. So very different. She would rarely walk with us on the ground. Though her physical form was trapped, inside, she floated. Inside, she was free.

I envied her that. My whole reason for being here was that I was the opposite. I was free outside, but within, I was trapped by all the screams of those who’d died at my hand. Or coin. If one had to be under the so-called care of Dr. Connors, Lucy had the best arrangement possible.

It was some form of dissociative disorder. Even Jeremy couldn’t tell me exactly what. Connors kept her files securely away from the inquisitive eyes of his staff. Not that the others gave a shit about their wards. Jeremy, like me, was the opposite of his peers. Almost the antithesis. He cared.

Which was probably why we got on.

“Where are we going today, then?” I asked her.

“I said I don’t know. You never listen, Sin. Always hearing those voices, drowning out what people are really saying to you.”

What did she know about my constant companions and their tearing screams?

“Of course I listen. I’m all ears, always.”

“I know you are, my dear, but you don’t hear.”

I nodded, not wanting to get drawn into a conversation about what brought me into the hospital. That was a discussion I had with Connors and my own anguish.

“And there he is, agreeing even when he doesn’t. You’re a gem, Sin. A real gem.”

It was beginning to rain, thankfully, so our time in the Garden of Hope, as the sign at its entrance declared, would be brought to an end. Percy, all oil and vindictiveness, would take great pleasure in telling us to get our crazy selves back into our cells. It was time for our meds.

‘Crazy selves.’ He always did have the nicest way with words.

“Are you going to take my hand?” Lucy asked, smiling, her voice its ever lyrical refrain.

She knew I would, and I did.

“Come on, Lucy,” I said. “Let’s think of a destination. Let’s have a road trip. Let’s dream.”

“Sin, you’re so silly. Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.”

It was my turn to smile. I was sure she didn’t know the relevance of her words.

“OK,” I said. “I’ll take your lead.”

“Of course you will. Now, close your eyes, but keep walking.”

Of course I did. We all knew the paths through the Garden of Actual Hopelessness, it being one of the few places we had to wander beyond the solid walls and barred windows we spent ninety percent of our time in. I could actually walk them with my eyes wide shut.

Still, the darkness brought their faces. It was why I rarely slept. I tensed.

“It’s OK Sin. They can’t hurt you here. Not that you, really, hurt them.”

I was squeezing her hand, so relaxed my grip, but she returned it.

“Open your eyes, Sin.”

I did. We were at the far edge of the garden, and the high wall stared down at us, daring us to try and go further. We didn’t need to. With just a hand, Lucy had taken me further than this simple boundary.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

Though I knew it would be short lived, I told her.

“I feel free.”