Nevermor (70 page)

Yes, we are
exactly like the birds.

Wren rested near
the cage, her head on her arm and fingers outstretched through the bars.  A
young cardinal hopped down and pecked at her finger before retreating.  She was
languid now, wishing to drift away.  Through a dream fog in her mind, she saw
the face of a boy, distant but emerging slowly in her memory.  She reached for
him –

With a short
gasp, Wren snapped awake, suddenly aware of a presence nearby.  She lifted her
eyes to see that another girl had approached her, looming now like a crooked
gargoyle on the eave of a cathedral.  Wren knew the girl’s face – pale and
homely with the sunken eyes of the abused.  Her name was Adele, and though Wren
had never spoken to her much, she knew something of the girl’s behavior.

Adele was of the
sort that needed constant attention, and when she’d chosen a target, she would
not relent until she got the acknowledgment she desired.  She often added the
other patients’ problems to her own just for sport, and was an annoyance to
most who dealt with her.

Seeing that she
was being focused on, Wren tried to appease the girl with a short smile before
averting her eyes, but she had known it would not work to send Adele away.

“You talk to the
fairies,” Adele said, chirping as happily as the birds.  “
I
saw a
fairy.”

Wren didn’t
respond, unsure how she felt about the comment.  She had already talked about
this once today for the sake of appearances, and she didn’t want to go into it
again, yet Adele kept staring at her relentlessly with large, hollow eyes.

“It was in my
room, the fairy was,” Adele went on, nodding furiously to confirm her tale. “It
was black like a shadow, but it wasn’t.  It moved on its own.  It was a
boy
!”

She giggled
deliriously at that, covering her mouth and looking about to see if a nurse had
heard her, but Wren only wanted to tell her that it wasn’t a fairy she had
seen.  She wanted to turn her face away and ignore the other girl, annoyed that
she was being mocked.

But wait…
  A shadow?  A
boy?  Could Adele’s conversation be more than a cry for attention?  If she did
see what she claimed, then…

“What did it
look like exactly?” Wren asked lowly.  Adele seemed nearly overwhelmed to have
gotten a reaction.  She was positively quivering with excitement.

“It was a boy,”
Adele confirmed again, sticking a finger in her ear absently.  “He was hovering
over my bed.  I watched him for a long time, but he didn’t move much.  Eventually,
he went away.”

Wren rose up,
interested now.  She moved closer to Adele, lowering her voice to a whisper in
hopes that the nurses would not hear their conversation.

“And it was like
a shadow?” Wren asked quietly, her heart beating faster.  “Did he say anything
to you – this fairy?”

“No,” Adele said
hesitantly, ashamed that she had to admit it, but she perked up again directly
after, “but it did remind me of my dream!”

Wren felt her
face grow hot, wondering what had brought on the flare until she realized that
she was feeling the heat of jealousy.  Did this girl deserve to dream more than
she did?  Was it possible that Adele had seen Nevermor when Wren could not find
it?

“What dream?”
she asked firmly, trying to keep her focus on the girl’s darting eyes.

Adele’s face lit
with pleasure.  “I saw an ocean – it was a
black
ocean! – and I was
walking along the shore.  I was alone, but then I saw someone and I went toward
him…”

Adele hesitated,
looking past Wren as a distant look came into her eyes.  Her chest began to
heave with short, rapid breaths as she recalled it.

“He looked at
me,” she said, shuddering.  “His eyes were on fire!  They were on
fire
!”

The girl had
become irate, a look of horror in her eyes as she professed this truth.  Before
Wren could step away, Adele had gripped her arms, shaking her as if to punish
her lack of understanding.

“
Burning
!”
she screamed, her eyes like deep pools.  “
They were burning
!”

Wren tried to
push Adele away from her, but the girl’s grip was viselike, her jagged nails
scraping her flesh.  She did not find relief until a nurse and orderly came
forward, taking the girl by the arms, talking her down.  Their voices managed
to soothe her enough that Adele simply reverted to a state of bewilderment, as
if she’d not remembered her outburst.  Wren, however, wanted no part of it.

She slipped away
behind the cage, waiting for her heart to slow as Adele was led back to her
cell.  What the girl had said troubled Wren more than the violent outburst. 
Had she truly seen a shadow that was not attached to anything?  Was it the
truth, or could she cast it off as the ranting of a lunatic?  Sadly, there was
no way to know.  There never was here, but today Wren was left with a feeling
that she’d never been willing to accommodate before.

Is that what I
sound like to them?
she wondered.

Everything she
thought she had known about her life came back to her now and settled in her
stomach, making her feel sick.  Around her, the birds continued to chirp, their
lives undisturbed by the incident.  They were without care or concern.  Wren
envied them.

2

The hours
passed, and another day had managed to age her.  Wren lay in the asylum bed,
eyes closed but not asleep, yet to anyone who might pass by, not awake.  She
was covered up to her chin with the thin, dingy blankets, but she was far from
restful.  This day had opened up a familiar door in her mind, and she had
foolishly stepped through it.  Her head was flooded with memories of the past –
of Nevermor.

The ocean and
the beach; the way the forest had smelled in the morning; the dreams that
formed the land and the nightmares that threatened it.  She thought of dances
by firelight as the boys ran wild, drunk off their kills, their faces painted
with blood.  They had all seemed so happy with that life.  Wren had been
disapproving of some of their behaviors – the cursing and the blood rituals –
but she would give anything to have that back now.

Rifter realized
that there was more to life than being young and reckless forever.  He was
ready to change.  But how much can I expect?  Will he think I’ve outgrown him? 
It’s been four years…

“
Are you
awake
?”  The ghostly whisper slipped to her through the dark, clenching her
heart and making her shiver.  Wren came back to herself to see a deep shadow treading
over the stone floor, moving closer to her bed.

Who’s there?

She was
startled, uncertain for a moment before she recognized the voice coming from
within the dark shape.

“I saw the fairy
again.”

Adele.
  Wren could not
see the girl’s features in the darkness, but her height and outline revealed
her identity.  Even knowing who it was, Wren could think of a few things less
unsettling than waking up to another inmate standing over her bed.

“How did you get
into my room?” she asked cautiously.

“I stole the
nurse’s key,” Adele said happily, holding up the dangling piece of metal on a
chain.  “Come on!  It’ll get away!”

Adele darted
back toward the hallway where the door was standing open, unlocked, and by the
time Wren was able to rise up after her, the girl had already slipped out.

“
Wait
!”
Wren hissed, stepping into her slippers.  Though she had an opportunity to
leave her cell unrestricted, her fear of being caught was very real.  While
here, she had tried her best to stay in line, but she was not oblivious to the
punishments that might have awaited her.  She knew what happened to girls who
were unruly.

But the shadow. 
I have to know
. 
That was all the persuasion she needed to follow Adele out.

By the time she
had gotten into the hallway, the other girl had already slipped out of sight. 
Wren did not have much time to be cautious.  She moved swiftly into the
darkened hall.

The unmapped
corridors of the female ward were frightening in the dark, the bowels of a
beast that had swallowed her.  Wren had never been out alone and the cage which
housed her was suddenly much too big.  Her breathing quickened.  She felt
faint.

Just take a deep
breath
. 
She followed her own direction. 
Be calm and do what you must do.

At that, she was
able to take a few steps forward.  She needed to see what Adele had to show her
– to judge it for what it was.  Perhaps it was a figment of the girl’s
imagination, but there was a possibility that it might have been more.

“This way!” 
Adele’s whispery voice drifted to her from around the corner, sounding like an
omen, but Wren could not turn away.

She crouched
low, hoping that she wouldn’t be seen by any of the other patients as she
passed.  There were small windows in the doors, and some of the girls were very
much like her: they never slept.  Even now she could hear some of them
groaning, muttering to themselves as they paced.  Wren was unsure of her
performance, but she kept herself down and moved forward, her pale gown
clinging to her legs.

Following after
Adele, Wren left the ward and passed into another part of the building, where
she began to feel even more nervous.  There were voices ahead that made Wren
want to turn around, but they managed to find a clear path around a pair of
orderlies who were busy making lewd jokes and laughing heartily.  Her heart
thudded until the voices slipped behind her.

Edging around
the corner, she saw Adele moving forward.  Wren knew these hallways well, and
she knew where they led, for she was guided along this way several times a
week.

Witherspoon’s
office…

“Are you certain
that the fairy went this way?” Wren asked, using terms Adele had related. “I’m
not sure if this is a good idea.”

Wren began to
suspect that this was not about the shadow any longer, but merely Adele’s
private excursion.  She did not want any part of that, but her neurotic
companion would not back down.

“Do you want to
see it or not?”

Adele
disregarded her then, moving to the door – behind which Wren had emptied most
of her secrets and memories – turning the key in the lock.  The hinges groaned
as it opened to reveal the smallest glow from a gaslight, lit and waiting for
someone to come in and give it more life.  Wren took in a shaky sigh and
followed Adele inside, preferring that to being caught in the hallway when a
watchman came by.

The office was
just as she had seen earlier, only darker, with the windows hidden by curtains,
but it seemed unforgiving now, like a funeral parlor.  The walls of this box
did not care about her fears or her crimes.  This was the end of the line.

“Do you see it
anywhere?” Adele whispered.  Wren had already been looking tentatively around
the room, searching for any sign of dark movement, but nothing seemed out of
place.

“I’ve never been
in this office at night,” Adele said rapidly, rubbing her feet along the carpet
in long strides.  She was clearly thrilled beyond measure.  “Do you think he’s
handsome?  Dr. Witherspoon, I mean.  I told him once that he had a nice smile,
and he ignored me!  I wonder if he’s married…”

Adele went on,
but Wren was no longer listening.  She had not seen any suspicious shadows, and
she had begun to suspect that this was all a waste of time.  She would be
happier back in her cell, reconsidering her misfortune.

What’s that?

Adele was chirping
on in the background, touching everything that was not locked away as if they
were on holiday instead of trespassing.  As Wren stepped near the desk, she saw
that among the many books piled near the edges, there was a lone journal
resting there.  It was not difficult for her to recognize the worn edges and
the scribbled writing on the cover.

It was her own
casebook.  Witherspoon had left it out after their session that day, perhaps.

What does he
think of me?
she wondered now, touching the rough face of the book.

She’d always
believed that she had never wanted to know what the doctor wrote about her –
that it didn’t matter – but as she looked down at the journal now, the
temptation was too much.  Without more thought, Wren was lifting the cover,
turning through the pages of notes about her stories and her supposed
condition. The words of his judgment cut across her vision.

Delusional…withdrawn…often
catatonic…obsessive…  In denial; fails to acknowledge her crime, but continues
to tell her story consistently…

Wren turned to
the last written page – his thoughts after today’s meeting.

In the years she
has been here, she has never acted violently, but I find myself growing tired
of the same stories.  There has been no progress in my time with her.  I have already
been considering more extreme measures, and now I believe that I must go
forward.  Something must be done to free her from her dream world.  She has to
be woken up.