Stealing Snow

TWO

At Vern’s skyscraper-ish side, I walked down the hall of ward D, peeking into the small, double paned windows to other rooms along the way of the most secure wing of Whittaker. Through the one to my left I could see wing perched on a chair, ready to take flight. She couldn’t really hurt herself from that height but her whitecoat, Sarah, a bird-like woman with surprising strength, was attempting to coax here down from the chair anyway. But she was probably the patient the whitecoats was afraid of, one loose restraint or one unlocked door and wing would find the highest place and jump (Wing thought she could fly). I walked away the second she ‘took off’. There was nothing sadder than seeing wings face when she landed, and realized her flight was over. In the next room Pi was scratching things in his notebook. He thought he was writing an equation that would save the world or break it. According to Vern, who liked to fill me in on the other patients, he had moved on from his alien abduction phase and was now in some phase that involved government cloning that involved code breaking. Magpies room was empty, but I knew that under her mattress were things she had stolen from all over Whittaker. Magpie was our resident thief and sometimes nemesis. I had been so distracted with Bale over the years, that I didn’t notice she had a head start on hating me. But I was playing catch up. It was something to fill in the time at least.

Then there was chord, who was just staring out the window, un moving. Finally, I hesitated by the last cell, Bales. Bal was staring at the wall with purpose. By the white gripped knuckles, he had on his chair, I knew he was thinking about fire again. He was probably trying to set fire to the dry wall right know.

Bale came to Whittaker like we all did: against his will. But he also came without a name. he was only six, like me. I had spent a whole year at Whittaker without him, an angry year. A sad year. A lonely year that I would never get back. And then there was bale.

They said he had been left alone, starving and scourging, for food in an old house. His parents had left him there—parents he said he didn’t remember. He was emaciated and filthy when he arrived – and not just from the soot, from the flames. They said he had stood there and watched his house burn after setting it on fire. He didn’t try to run away. He just wanted, maybe needed to watch it burn down to ashes. He said he didn’t remember anything about his parents, even though he was old enough to remember. Dr. Harris said he was choosing sub-consciously or unconsciously to forget. And he didn’t know how to read or write, which some of the Whittaker kids laughed at. Just because we lived in glass houses of insanity, doesn’t mean we can’t be cruel.

The first time he walked through the Whittaker gates, I thought he had been sprung straight from my imagination. His red hair spiked up on his head like a little skeleton devil. He looked like he had just walked out of fire, instead of setting one. One of the other kids ran and his, but I walked up to him and touched his face to make sure he was real. I can’t say that I loved him at first sight but ever since I met him, I have kept on walking towards him.

Bale was a complete mystery to all of us, he didn’t even know his own story. I had had so much therapy with art, dolls and people that I confused it for play.

“why don’t we make up your story” I had suggested

“why would I want to do that” he’d ask

“for fun” I countered with six-year-old logic. “I do it all the time for other people”

I pulled out my sketch pad and began to write

‘once upon a time’

Bale looked at me like I was crazy, but he didn’t retreat. I drew a quick sketch of him.

“that’s me” he said pointing at his own chest. How he found himself I my collection of rudimentary lines, made me want to draw him out more. Make him tell me his story.

“now you tell me who you are” I urged doing my best Dr. Harris impression.

“once upon a time there was a boy named” I singsong and waited

“bale” he quickly replied.

“once upon a time there was a boy named bale, who lived in a house of wood. The monster made him cry like no mother or father should. But one day they went away and made bale stay. So, bale burned it all down one day.” I sang

To this point I don’t know if I remembered it correctly or just made it up, but the name bale stuck and so did his story.

We all had different monsters, mine was my icy anger. Bales was his love of fire, if fire didn’t exist, I thought bale might have been a normal boy. But a world without fire, would be the same as a world without air. Would bale love me? Understand me? If fire didn’t consume him like it did.

I knew bale loved me from the moment he saw me first have an episode. He was no stranger to anger. And when I felt it, it was so strong. Making me feel hot and cold at the same time. I was never sure if it was better to hold it in or let it out. Holding it in felt like holding my breath, and there is no way it wouldn’t come out eventually and besides my head hurt from the pressure. Most people ran in the other direction when I exploded, but not bale. He stood right next to me, didn’t touch me but just stood there patiently until I was done. When I stopped seeing red, and the all-consuming anger subsided. He held my hand, that was when I fell in love with him too.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

I stood in the hallway of ward D, staring intently at the back of bales head, willing him, begging him to turn around. To look at me. He didn’t. Vern gently cupped my arm to keep me moving.

“please just a few more seconds” I pleaded

She shook he head “child if we could actually cure things just by staring long enough, Whittaker wouldn’t need to exist”

Begrudgingly I continued down the hall to the visitors lounge.

“you know, you’re going to have to forgive your mother sometime” Vern said

I shrugged. Mum had said she loved me. And despite all my problems and her committing me to an insane asylum my whole life. I believed she did, in her way. But after bale broke my wrist, Dr. Harris recommended that he and I be separated, and mum had agreed. She took away the one thing that made Whittaker more than just survivable. He was my only friend. I couldn’t forgive that, I hadn’t even tried to.

Vern was still looking at me for a real answer about my mum, but I just shrugged again. Around me the hallway was growing cloudy, but the colours were more vivid than before. My footsteps felt lighter. My happy dose was working.

“well you’ll have to, maybe not today. But soon.” Vern said.

“why should I” I bit back

“because you only have about three people in the universe to talk to, snow. And technically Dr. Harris and I are paid to” she said

I glared at her sharply. She laughed

“you know you’re my favourite, Hannibal Yardley” she said

This was my nickname for the biting. She named me after a character that had a penchant for killing and cannibalism in a violent movie we weren’t allowed to see. Coming from anyone else and the reply would have been aa bit toothier and a little bit of blood. But from Vern I took it and kept on walking.