Notes from the Future: The Dairy

My time is here and now, may all the Gods he prattles on about bless and protect Tad whenever and wherever he is.

This is my battle. Not his.

I think about saying as much to Henrietta, but then a child's voice cuts through the night, "Mama!" -- and we surge forward, a roar in our throats.

The main door of the barn stands open on the left, but I see my point of entry on the side, a door that stands ajar leaking light tinged with misery. That is where the child is calling for her mother.

I leap over the silvered rustic log fencing, land lightly in the pen it encompasses, then crouch, reaching for the door and ready to launch myself through it. As I do, screaming inside the dairy barn gets louder and I throw the door off its hinges as I spring into the space beyond, a brief image of blood and flesh and severed body parts filling my mind and then --

Cool air-conditioned, smoke-free air, soft carpet under my feet and a pleasant Febreeze-like scent. A door clicks shut behind me, I whirl and am staring at a set of double fire doors, the kind one would expect to find in any contemporary building, from corporate offices to colleges to --

"Ah, Miss Torres. Late again, I see. Would you care to join the group?"

I turn and there in the room in front of me are about twenty people sitting on folding chairs in a circle. 

-- hospitals --

Many have coffee in cardboard cups. That's the trouble, I think, but I don't know why. Everyone is wearing hospital gowns. Everyone except the man leading the group. He's short and bald and sort of gray.  They're all looking at me. I look at me. I'm wearing a hospital gown.

"What the fuck?!" I blurt.

"And, she begins," one of the group members mutters.

"Would you like to tell us why you're late?" this from the group leader. He's not wearing a hospital gown, he's wearing khakis and a denim shirt and a fuzzy fleece vest, a cheap REI knockoff. He has a nametag. Dr. something, Dr. ... I can't read the name, begins with an R ... Why am I late? Oh ... I remember ...

Someone whispers, "I was fighting beastlings, with an army from Downton Abbey," and there are whispers of laughter from the group. I can't see anyone's face move, though. What the fuck is going on?

"We don't mock our group members, remember?" he, the leader, says. I step forward and a couple of people shift so there's an open chair a few spaces to the leader's right. He's smiling and pleasant but I just can't see him. His face blurs like a migraine.

"Like a what?" he asks. I don't think I said anything aloud.

"Oh, you did," he says. "Everything you think you're thinking, you're actually saying, Veronica. It's part of your psychosis."

I stare at him, at them. There are potted plants near the four support columns in this room, in which the circle sits. There are offices beyond. I hear keyboards clicking and some conversation. 

"Veronica, please focus here. We all hear those things, as well. Remember, when last we met, you agreed to try to focus your monologuing on what you feel inside more than what you see outside. The group is very much interested in what you are feeling, what is going on inside of you. What you remember about how you got here will help everyone in their own paths to recovery," he gestures to the group, and some of them nod. I look at their faces to see if they are visible, or if they are obscured like they gray bald migraine man. Someone laughs. "Laughter is judgement," he reminds the group. "Let's reserve judgement and laughter for a time when we can all say we have put our troubles behind us."

Their faces are clear to me. I can see their eyes, I can see contempt and anger in some, pity or agreement in others. That one with the full beard, he looks like a Bearded Ezekiel I remember --

"Tell us of the Bearded Ezekiel," the group leader says and I can see his face suddenly and it's angry like shouting but then now I can't see it and I am so, so confused.

The door to an office to my right opens. There are some chairs and a couple loveseats around a low table near that office and when the door opens and the screams start I see the light of lanterns shining through the doorway and I can see that Rachel bound and exposed, barbed wire cutting into her wrists and ankles and breasts and even her cheeks where it has been used to gag her and a man with no face is reaching toward her navel with a long, thin and flexible blade, and his entire posture is gleeful and he is crying out in delight, "Twee!"

"Veronica," this from the group leader. Spoken firm, not shouted. In control.

The door slams and I turn to face him, them, the air-conditioned room that is far less upsetting than the screaming women and children, the struggling and innocent young woman whose last moments on earth I have just witnessed.

"Veronica, I need you to think only good thoughts, I need you to focus on what you remember; say what comes into your mind, we all know you can't stop yourself from doing that. We accept it. You should accept it. And as part of that acceptance, please join us in moving forward by focusing backward. Please focus on how you got here. And please will yourself to speak aloud. You have such a lovely voice, everyone thought so last week," I can hear a smile in his voice, even though I can't see his --

Twee!

-- face.

"Veronica, if you're not going to join the group and participate, we're just going to have to cut this week's session short. We're going to have to send everyone. Back. To. Their. Rooms."

Gasps from several of the people and -- oh, God, I'm saying this aloud even though I think I'm only observing things --

"Yes, good," group leader says. Did I just say, 'Group leader says,'?

"Yes, you did," he says. "It's part of why you're here. You speak the framework of a novel around every moment of your life. We're trying to help you find out why. So: Veronica?"

-- someone's eyes widen, a shake of the head -- I think --

"Veronica, I need you to focus. Everyone, stop looking at her," he says this and they all snap their eyes to him. Something in his voice. The briefest warning glance from --

"From who, Veronica? Who here would warn you? And, golly ... what on earth would they have to warn you about? ... Veronica? If you don't participate, I'll send you all back. Do we all remember that we get Strawberry Jell-O at the end of today's session? For being so good?"

I need to think.

"Think aloud, Veronica, this is better than your silence during your first three months here. Cast your mind back and think aloud. Sit. Join us. Think aloud."

I step forward and will myself to speak:

"Someone else should go first," I say.

"Well, I say that everyone else has already gone today, Veronica, and I say that we have been patiently waiting for you for a long, long time, here. So please sit down and tell us the story of how you got here. What are the three requirements, group?"

"Tell the truth," they all say. Someone laughs. I can't see who.

"No laughing, laughing is judgement," automatically from the gray group leader. "What's the second requirement?"

"Tell the truth loudly," they say.

"That's right, so everyone can hear. And requirement number three?"

"No falsehoods," they say and all snap their gaze to me. I take a step back. It's not voluntary. 

An office door beyond the group leader, behind him and to his left, opens as a woman in lavender polyester pants that do not match her very flowery blouse steps out, the door doesn't quite close and there's the little girl, her dress torn, clutching a rag doll to her and blood spurting on her as screaming mommy mommy mama please mommy mama mama no what are you doing to my 

The door shuts. I hear a gasping, ragged sob from the group and look to see who it was. I can't tell.

"Veronica! That was very upsetting for all of us!" He is standing up and yelling at me, and I can see his face through the migraine and his eyes are so angry, black with anger and rage.

But he isn't standing, he's sitting. I don't smell smoke anymore.

"You need to acknowledge that what you just said was false," he says. His tone is light. His meaning is not.

"My meaning is what I intend, not what you interpret. I am here to help you and I need you to trust me, Veronica. Now. Please, sit."

He is gesturing at the chair. I look at the group. I see -- I see --

silence silence silence think of silence silence silence

I sit down.

"Good. Everyone, let's applaud Veronica," he says. They do. Someone is still laughing at me, whispering their laughter. I look.

"Nobody is laughing but you, Veronica. You are laughing at yourself, which is unfair and judgmental. Now. Are you ready to tell us the truth of where you came from?"

silence silence silence

"I -- yes. I am," silence silence

"Why are you saying, 'silence, silence'?"

"To control myself," silence silence silence silence

"Why?"

"So I don't upset anyone else," silence silence silence silence silence

"Well, that is very considerate of you."

"Thank you, silence, I mean," silence silence. "I think I'm silence ready," silence silence silence SILENCE!

"Any time. When you're comfortable."

"Where should I silence silence begin?" silence

"What's the last thing you remember before you came in?"

"The dairy barn and the girl screaming for her mama --" silence silence SILENCE SILENCE! SILENCE!!

"That's false, Veronica. There's no dairy barn out there. Orderly Dan?"

We all turn and look and orderly Dan who is black and muscular and has a PhD -- how did I know that? -- opens the door and beyond is the hallway leading to the long-term residence rooms and I remember walking up to the door and opening it only a few minutes ago --

"Good, follow those thoughts in intentional speech, please."

"This morning for breakfast I had French Toast while a lady broke a lantern at the roots of walking trees, but I think that can't be true," silence silence silence

"Very good. Can you go back a week?"

"A week ago we were here and my Dad came to visit after and I was so clear and so, so right that, he said maybe I could leave soon and we had -- oh, my gosh, we had an actual conversation and I could remember all of the other times I just screamed that there were monsters, oh, everyone I am so sorry," I look at the group silence and there are sympathetic faces everywhere silence silence sorry silence I am trying to silence stop silence

"It's okay, Veronica. Can you go back any further?"

"Um ... there was an earthquake, and Tad said we should go to the cabin but I wanted to find our families. Does Tad know I'm better?" I am crying and I try to smile at everyone but smiling makes me silence cry more silence and I wipe my tears away and there's no mascara because we're not allowed to wear makeup here so silence silence silence at least there's that

"Veronica, we covered this last week, but I'll help you. Do you remember what we realized last week?"

the farthest office door slams open and there is that little girl and she is screaming why are you just standing there, why don't you help us please my mommy isn't moving any more please and then her hair catches on fire

"That wasn't what we realized, Veronica. Please try to focus."

long, long fingers of a black-gloved hand reach for the girl and the door slams smoke smell gone

"It was something about 'Tad'. Remember?"

"Tad ..." I sigh silence silence. "Oh Tad, silence ... silence ... Tad. Tad ... there's something important I am supposed to remember. Tad ..." silence silence silence silence

"Yes, follow that: think about Tad and last week. Who was with your Dad when he came?"

"Dad was with ... no one," silence

"That's right. Keep going."

"Dad was with no one and Tad said ... Tad ... was," silence I'm looking for silence the Bearded silence Ezekiel but I silence can't see him silence silence silence silence silence silence silence silence

"When is the last time you saw Tad here? Focus on when you saw Tad in this room or in the hallway or in the cafeteria, Veronica."

cafeteria lunch grilled cheese, mmm, silence, Dad had a silence burrito heavy on the silence cafeteria Dad cafeteria Kayleigh cafeteria -- Monica, wow -- cafeteria Taralynn -- cafeteria Mom, Yvonne, Uncle Don, Andrew, Cousin Yvette 

"Please speak intentionally, Veronica."

"I don't remember Tad in the Cafeteria, but that's because --"

"Now the hallway, please."

"Hallway: Mom, Dad, the Doctor who helps me, Kayleigh, Taralynn ... Monica ... Yvonne, Uncle Don, Andrew, Yvette, David, Grandpa Juan, Tio ..."

"Tad?"

"Not in the hallway, either," silence? Silence? Why silence not?!

whispered laughter

"You are the only one judging you, Veronica."

"Laughing stops. Oh. I said that intentionally."

"Yes. You did. Now, how about your room. Describe it, please."

"Oh, it's nice. I expected a cell."

"You say that every time."

"I do? I'm sorry."

"No need. Describe it for us, please."

"It's nice. The walls are a nice cream, there are pretty curtains with My Little Pony on them. There's a doll house. There's a desk where I write my letters."

"Do you have any pictures?"

"Um, yes: on the wall, above my desk I've taped a lot of pictures. My family. There's little Edith, pregnant now. Getting her degree with mommy hormones must be hard --"

all office doors slam open the child screams and bleeds slam shut

"Shut, shut, shut! ... I am so sorry. Should I go on?"

"Yes. Please."

"She's doing well, married to Ethan. A barber, of all things. And ... I have pictures of ... Raider, and ... Bucephulus ..."

"Who?"

"The rabbit ... Bucephulus."

"Are you sure?"

"Um ... oh. No. His name's Bugsy. Bugsy Bunny, Taralynn named him that. Little shit. She never took care of that rabbit once he grew to full-size."

"Veronica, is there anyone missing from the pictures? Close your eyes and picture the wall above your desk. Take your time."

"Let's see. Okay: Mom, Dad, Grandpa, Tio, Taralynn, Kayleigh ... Don, Norma ... Monica ... Yvonne, Andrew, Yvette ... Raider ... oh, but ... uhm ..."

"Who isn't there, Veronica?"

"Tad. Tad isn't in any of these pictures."

"How recent are they?" 

"Edith's wedding, Kayleigh's wedding ... he's not in any of those. But he was there."

"Was he?"

"I thought ... I thought he was."

"Is he in the pictures?"

"No. None of them. And these are my favorites."

"Has he ever been in your room?"

"Uhm silence silence silence, sorry it's like a hiccup, silence, sorry, uhm ... he ... urhhhhmmmm ... I'm thinking ..."

"Take your time."

"Has, he? Wow, sorry I'm crying, has he? Not come? Has he never come to visit me?"

"No, he hasn't. And I think you may know why."

"Why? Why not?"

"You know the answer to that."

"I do? What is it?"

"You need to tell us."

"How come he's not in any of the pictures? Why don't I remember him here? Where is Max, where the hell is Max?!"

"No pictures of Tad. You've never mentioned Max before today. Victoria. Tell us. You know. Say it aloud. Say the thing you're thinking, and you will feel so much better."

"I only remember him in terms of the ... false silence memories silence silence silence that I know ..."

"That you know?"

"Aren't real."

"And?"

"Oh my God. Tad."

"Mm-hmm?"

"Tad doesn't exist."

"Are you sure?"

"I ... am. I'm sure. I ... made the whole thing up. Wow. I made it all up. The earthquake, the Prophet, everything ..."

"That's right, Victoria. Orderly Dan, can you get her some Kleenex?"

"Oh my God. I'm -- I'm sorry, everyone. I -- just ... I didn't know."

"Victoria has made some real progress today, everyone, let's give her some applause and a group hug. Yes. There we go. Wow. I think we've all made a lot of progress today, folks. And, hey --"

A door has opened and someone new is here now.

"Look who's here, look who's brought us all some yummy Strawberry Jell-O? Victoria, it's your favorite doctor. Hey, Doc, your Number One Patient made a lot of progress today."

silence silence silence

"Victoria," new voice says but is it new. "Strawberry is your favorite, yes?"

"Victoria, Dr. Mayberry is speaking to you.

"Victoria, how do you feel?" new voice not so new

"I ... feel better. Thank you," silence.

silence silence silence

"Victoria," new voice. "I'm very proud of you. It's okay that you don't want to look at me. I trust Dr. Reinblatt, and I'm thrilled that you've joined the group again."

"Thank you, Dr. Mayberry."

"My pleasure, Dr. Reinblatt. Victoria? Come with us, and we'll get you all fixed up for tonight's presentation. Ah, there's a smile. Just as the Lord foretold. So saith the Doctor."

whispers 

so saith the lord

wet slicing

laughter muffled screams