Quietly Crazy
by Monika M. Segally © 2006
CHAPTER 2
Ms. Rosa has lived here in Blue Hills for fifty odd years, since she was a girl of fifteen. Ms. Rosa had been part of a traveling circus. Originally, they came from Romania the year before. Her parents died on the boat to America so it was just her and her brother.
Ms. Rosa did fancy riding tricks on the horses and her brother maintained them. Ms. Rosa said she was very talented and very beautiful at one time. Sometimes, when I look into her deep brown eyes, I can see the beauty she must have been. But hard times and sorrow have added wrinkles to her face. I think being alone has done that too. Anyway, the circus stopped over in the next county. And from what I heard, it was wonderful. Ms. Rosa had the gift, but she wouldn't tell fortunes for money then. She would rather ride the horses instead.
Sometimes she would be overcome with the sight and grab someone's hand to see clearly. And she would tell them what she saw. It was usually good things. She didn't see too many bad things back then she said. The circus people stayed the whole winter that year and made good money because folks came from all over to see them. It was cheap entertainment that the whole family could enjoy.
One day, Ms. Rosa saw a man and the sight overcame her. She grabbed his hand and said, “I'm going to love you forever.” The man looked at her strangely and Ms. Rosa was embarrassed. It was the only time Ms. Rosa saw her own destiny.
The man came every Saturday night to watch Ms. Rosa perform. Ms. Rosa said she had never ridden better, because to her, riding her horses was like singing a love song to him. When spring came, Ms. Rosa turned sixteen, and the man came to her and said, “I think I would like you to love me forever.” His name was Benjamin Barnes. He owned Barnes Boarding House in town.
When it was time for the circus to move on, Ms. Rosa stayed here. Her brother was angry and upset but he told her if she ever needed him, he would come. She kissed him good-bye and never saw him again. And she did need him six months later when Benjamin Barnes died falling off the roof of the boarding house fixing a leak that had sprung.
I once asked Ms. Rosa why she stayed in Blue instead of trying to find her brother. She was so young to be on her own. “How could I leave? There was nowhere to go. Benji left me the boarding house and a little pocketful of money. I had been so lucky to have him for the time I did. I couldn't leave Blue Hills when he had no one to put flowers on his grave. The one time I see for myself, I see loving my Benji forever. And this is so still.”
Ms. Rosa still runs that boarding house. Mama says she takes in strays that don't have anybody. A lot of men stay there until they die. Ms. Rosa takes care of them real good. It's funny when you think about it. Ms. Rosa has been here since almost before Blue Hills was a town, and she's still considered an outcast, until somebody has nobody.
I know Ms. Rosa has some money still. Part of that pocketful of money Benjamin Barnes left her was in some stock investment. Ms. Rosa still dresses like a gypsy though she could be draped in furs and diamonds. She could go anywhere now and travel, but she won't.
“Why would I leave here now? Eh? Isn't anywhere else in the world I would cause such an uproar and get so much a fuss made over me. This is so now… eh?”
I guess she is right, because she still drives the town folks of Blue Hills plum crazy. She always knows their business you know.
Is that enough information?
Maybe this tells you more about me. Like I said, Ms. Rosa helped raise me. She helped turn me into the oddball that I am though I don't mind all that much. She made it okay for me to be an outcast and not so lonely.
I know she misses me, our talks and stuff. Even though I was a kid, I always felt like I was her friend, her real friend. When she comes, she begs me to talk to her, to say something, just one word. But I don't even try anymore. What's the point? There are no words I know to describe this . And when there used to still be words, they only stuck like a piece of hard candy in my throat. That's all I can write now. Are you happy ?
It seems Maggie that you do have an awful lot to say. It is good that you open up a little bit in your notebook. I hope I can help you find the right words when the time comes for you to speak again. Thanks for changing colors. Green is a little bit easier to read.
Why can't I just go back home? Or anywhere but here? I won't hurt myself. I promise.
Maggie, how can I let you go in the condition you are in? None of us wants you to be here. You will be here until you are well. You do hurt yourself Maggie, by not taking care of yourself. You don't brush your teeth; you won't brush your hair. The attendants say you fight them when they tell you to shower. The only thing you eat is mashed potatoes. You're killing yourself slowly.
Maggie, you need to talk about Romeo now. You need to write about him.
I can't. It still hurts too much. I'm afraid that if I speak of him he'll go away. That if I let go of one memory of him and tell you, he'll just fade away like a scream in the dark. Do you know what I mean by that? You know when you hear someone scream in the dark and it just sends your blood turning to ice water? And you hold your breath, listening to see if you hear it again. But you don't. That's what I'm afraid of, that I'll wait to see his face and it won't come back to my mind.
The only reason I changed colors is because one of the nurses crushed the yellow when it fell off the desk onto the floor.
I shouldn't be here.
I don't want to be here.
There are crazy people all over the place here on all kinds of drugs. I don't want to become them.
Please
.
The other people here are on monitored medications. It's not drugs, it's help. It helps them to live as normally as possible. Living here is not a permanent situation. People stay here only long enough until it's safe for them to go back out into the world again. You will only be here as long as it's necessary and not one moment longer.
Maggie, I know it's frightening here. You hold the key inside you to unlock the doors of this home. Maybe if you would just let me give you something to help you sleep. It might start changing things.
Call it what it is Dr. Carter – an institution for all the young loony-toons of this area.
I don't want your drugs. How could it change things if it doesn't bring Romeo back? Or are you Jesus Christ and can raise him from the dead?
I see him at night you know. Sometimes when I'm looking through the bars of this hellhole I can see him standing by the road away from here. I try to scream his name because I'm not sure he knows I'm here. Nothing comes out.
Sometimes, at night, I hear him whispering my name. I swear I can feel his lips against my ear, and smell his sweet breath. He loved to eat root beer barrels. You know the little brown hard candies shaped like a barrel. Romeo always tasted like root beer too whenever he kissed me.
That's all I have left. Why would I want you to take that away from me with sleeping pills? I have never done drugs no matter what you have heard and I'm not starting now just to please you.
I don't dream of him. Why would I want to miss things by sleeping? I don't need to sleep that much really. I usually catch a couple of hours when the sun rises. I guess I'm living the life of a vampire. Grandmother Stone would go bonkers over the thought of me being one of the living dead. “Stones do not associate with the undead.”
That's so funny, well maybe only to me. I'm enjoying the thought of watching her twist her pearls in frustration, as she calmly explains to me in the Queen's English, how there has never been a vampire in the Stone family for that would not be an appropriate thing to be.
Your mother tells me your grandmother was very good to you at the funeral. She said your grandmother held your hand through all of it. I know you get a letter from her almost every day. Why do you relish the thought of shocking her?
Maggie, you do realize you're having hallucinations. Romeo is not by the road. I know you don't like it but Romeo is dead. It is only in your mind. The mind is very powerful and can make us think things into a reality. You know it isn't real.
Screw you.
Not very nice. I hope you'll tell me about your grandmother next time.