Sam sat in her dark room, lit only by the light of some electric candles. Her parents wouldn’t trust her with real candles with live flames, so she had to make do with electric ones. She was not certain whether to unpack from her hospital trip or not. Her parents seemed so strange. Was she safe?
As though reading her mind, her mother called “Sam, I’m getting ready to wash some clothes. Do you have any darks to add to mine?”
“Yeah, I’ll bring them to you,” Sam replied.
“Great, hon. So glad to have you back home.”
Sam thought, huh, glad to have you home? Did y’all really miss me?
As Sam gathered her dark clothes for laundry, trying to beat her mother from invading her space, her phone vibrated.
“I’m out!!! Can’t wait to see you!”
Sam stared at her phone, wondering who sent this text. A mistake?
“It’s me Becca! Your roomie from Shavano Park. I’m out today. So good to be free! God, I need a cigarette. And a beer. Are you on? Where should we meet?”
Sam startled, recognizing the name- her roommate from the psych hospital. Becca had gotten herself committed by making an extreme suicide gesture by taking a handful of her pills mixed up in a bag, after her parents kicked her out of the house. She had texted them a “farewell” message right before she took the pills, and they responded immediately, called 911, in order to save her. Becca hated rejection and she saw her parents as rejecting because they did not want her to bring men into their home at night and have sex with them on the dining room table. She was in and out of hospitals all the time, unlike Sam. To Becca, a hospital was more of a retreat than a restrictive punishment for being mentally ill.
Sam hesitated. Should she respond? Could she trust Becca or did her parents hire Becca to watch Sam? Well, maybe that was a bit far-fetched, even for her parents.
Sam texted “Glad to hear you are out. Yes, that place was run by Nazis, only made me feel worse! Never going back again, ever. Where are you right now?”
Becca texted “On I35, outside of San Antonio, heading your way. My parents gave me a charge card so they could get me out of the house for a while, at least until I get in trouble again. Thought I’d get a hotel near you and we could have a reunion of the crazy ladies of Shavano Park. Hahaha. I should get up there about 6. Where would you like to go? It’s on my Dad, so the sky is the limit.”
Sam thought, Shitshitshit. I have too much to deal with now, do not need Becca.
“Sam! You have your clothes for the wash? I’m starting it now,” her mother called.
“Yes, Mom. I’m coming” Sam said. She felt her cheeks and ears flush, and her heart palpitated. She quickly scanned her laundry for dark clothes and then took them to her mother, who was busy working in the perpetually tidy laundry room. A blue rug with a “The NeverEnding Story-Laundry” logo laid across the floor.
“What took you so long?” her mother asked.
“Oh, a friend has been texting me. We may get together sometime this week.”
“Do I know her? Or is it a him? Or a them? I never know these days,” her mother asked.
Sam cringed at her mother’s non-PC-ness. “No, you don’t know her.”
“Really? I thought I knew all of your friends. When did you meet her?” her mother asked.
“Last month,” Sam stated cautiously.
“But you were in a psychiatric hospital all month. When did you have time to meet anyone?” her mother innocently asked. Her back was turned away from Sam so her expression could not be seen.
Sam didn’t answer. She knew her mother would connect the dots and have an opinion before even meeting Becca. At least, her old mother would have. Not sure how “new mother” will act.
Sam’s mother closed the washer and set the wash settings to “normal”. Sam almost laughed at the incongruity. She wished her life could be “normal” again, like turning a dial on a washing machine, setting it to “normal” and then starting again.
Sam’s mother suddenly turned around, moved closer to Sam looking intently at her face, and said “I guess you made some friends at Shavano. I’m glad. Maybe y’all can help each other out. You know, someone who really understands what you’re going through.”
Sam could feel her stomach sinking and her head got dizzy. She felt her the hair on the back of her head tingle. What had she said? This is not my mother.
Her mother noticed the change. “Are you all right? You look like a ghost just walked over your grave.”
Sam nodded, and stated, “I need to lie down, especially if I go out later. I’m tired.”
Her mother asked “Tonight? I thought you were meeting later in the week.”
“Well, yeah, but think my friend is having a tough time right now. She needs a friend. Not a big deal, but maybe we’ll meet up tonight.”
Her mother looked at Sam uncertainly. “Well, if you feel up to it. I wish you would take it easy. You just got discharged last week. Don’t rush anything. Remember what the psychiatrist said.”
Oh, how can I forget, Sam thought. Nobody will let me forget.
Percolations 