Littermates

Chapter Thirty-five

1966--Planning

"How youse gonna make one dress look like two, 'Reesha? How ya gonna?" asked Kitten.

They were sitting at a table in the occupational therapy room, with swatches of fabric and various sewing implements spread before them. The patients weren't usually allowed to touch the sewing things without closer supervision. Yes, they had the blunt kindergarten scissors, but they also had needles and straight pins. Both of these were very carefully counted every time the box was opened or closed. The patients were not allowed to leave the room till every single one could be accounted for. More than once it had taken an hour to finally find a pin stuck through the wrong side of a piece of fabric, but the caution was well deserved, because occasionally the pins had been hidden inside an inmate's clothes. There were all sorts of nasty possibilities in those situations.

"I'm going to make the dress what we call 'reversible', Kitten. Look..." Nareesha stretched a swatch of white cloth over a swatch of red cloth. "I'll stitch these together. When you see it's like this it will be white," she turned it over," and when you look at it this way, it will be red."

"Oh. Coooool."

"Yes, it is. The only thing about doing this type of work is that there isn't any wrong side. I'll have to be extra careful with the stitching." She frowned at the cloth, running her finger along a frayed edge. "And if I can't get a clean edge, there's really no point in even trying." She contemptuously shoved away a pair of child scissors. "Those may be fine for cutting construction paper, but they do piss all for cloth." Kitten giggled, and Nareesha smiled wryly. "Yes. I really do need to watch my language around you." She sighed. "I wish Milda would come out. She always kept me and Casey on our toes about that."

Dr. Clyde came into the occupational therapy room, moving so briskly that his white coat flapped around him. When he saw Nareesha he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of scissors. He smiled, clicking these. "I believe you were looking for a couple of sharp edges?"

Nareesha held out her hands. "Oh, please! I'm an artist, and using those ridiculous excuses is like trying to do the Mona Lisa with a box of fifty cent water colors."

Clyde came over to the table and pointed at the chair beside Nareesha. "Will I be flattening anyone?"

Kitten giggled. "Dr. Clyde, you sit on the other side."

Clyde had long ago ceased to be surprised at the sudden voice switches. He took the seat that the voice had indicated and passed the scissors to Nareesha. "What are you making?"

"It's going to be a very simple sheath..." said Nareesha.

"But it's gonna be TWO colors, inside an' outside," said Kitten enthusiastically.

"Oh, very clever," said Clyde approvingly. "Joel has a windbreaker like that, and he really likes it. Ask him to show it to you later." He watched as Nareesha trimmed the fabric, then spread the red fabric and began pinning a paper pattern to it. "Nareesha, I have something to put to you girls. What would you say if I said I thought there was a very real possibility of getting you released in a year or so?"

Nareesha stopped what she was doing and looked at him. "I'd say that you're being very optimistic. I'm a realistic woman, and I know that I am metaphorically standing in a hole at the bottom of a well that's located in a canyon, in a valley, in China. In other words, I can't get much deeper. I know how much you like to tease people, Dr. Clyde."

"Not about getting them well."

She pursed her lips. "No, not about that. What would this entale?"

"Subterfuge on all our parts."

Nareesha smiled. "I can do that. Casey can do that." She looked at her sister. "Kitten, can you do that?"

"What's subberfudge?" said Kitten doubtfully.

"It's pretending and fooling people."

"Oh, I can do THAT."

"That's my girl," said Clyde. "What we have to do is build up a day-to-day record showing that you're gradually approaching normality. This facility may be named after a Catholic saint, but claims of miraculous cures are hardly likely to be accepted by the exit commity. That will be tedious, but not difficult." He smiled. "I always rather fancied myself as a novelist, anyway. We've made the first step of placing you in the general population, but now we have to prove that you can not only function, but get along well. You have to be socialized."

"I won't have a problem with that. I've learned to lie through my teeth in order to keep a situation comfortable. I'm a little worried about Acacia, though."

"And that brings us to another part of the plan. I hate to say this, since I find each of the girls I've met utterly charming in her own way, but you're going to have to choose which of you will do the interacting."

Nareesha frowned. "You mean pretend there's just one of us?"

"As far as the world is concerned, aside from Joel and myself, that's exactly how things stand. And everyone has to be made to believe that. I'm sorry, dear, but there's no way they'd allow me to release anyone with a split personality, not even if all the personas were bland and benign." He noticed Nareesha's stiff expression and said, "Yes, I know. I KNOW that you're seperate individuals, just as real as I am. But sometimes, Nareesha, you have to play to the world's expectations if you're going to get what you want. Now, Kitten can't be the public persona." He wrinkled his nose at the empty chair, smiling at the little girl he couldn't see. "You can still have fun with Joel, but you won't be able to speak to anyone but we two. Do you understand why?"

"Cause the dumb ol' peoples can't see more'n one of us at a time," said Kitten promptly. "An' since I'se a little girl, they wouldn't let me go alone."

"Very good." He slid a glance at Nareesha. "Will Casey snap my head off if I dare to suggest that she might not be the right choice?"

The girl snorted, and said in Acacia's slightly nasal voice, "Nah. I AM a bad ass." She smiled fiercely. "I'd explode if I tried to act meek all the time. I guess that leaves you, Sis."

Nareesha sighed. "I could do it, and do it rather neatly, I suppose. The trouble would be in holding up the illusion of fragility long enough to make it believable. Do you know what I wish? I wish we could talk Milda into doing it. It would be so good for her. And in a way it would make the sham healing real. That would be more convincing for your exit commity."

"Are you absolutely positive that she wouldn't do it, not even for the sake of her family?"

"Clyde," said Nareesha severely, "She wasn't just hurt, she was wounded, almost mortally. We feel lucky that she hasn't just slipped away, like Kathleen."

"Kathleen is out of the question?"

"We can feel her there, but we can't find her anymore. I suppose there's an off chance that some day she might feel safe enough to come out, but I wouldn't advise holding your breath."

"All right. Before we settle on you, Nareesha, I want one more try at Milda. Where is she?"

Nareesha's expression smoothed out for a moment, her eyes unfocusing, pupil actually dilating a little. Then the pupil contracted to normal size and when she looked directly at Clyde he knew it was Milda. There was a sadness and vulnerability he'd never seen in any of the other girls. Her expression didn't change as she said in Kitten's voice, "Doctor Clyde, she comed out! She comed out just for you!"

"I'm honored," said Clyde. And he was. He didn't give up on things easily, and he'd about come to the conclusion that Milda was going to remain more of a rumor than an actuality. Oh, he knew she existed--she was too real for the other girls for her not to. But he knew better than most that there were some things in the psyche that stayed buried forever. Now that Milda had shown herself, even though she hadn't spoken, he began to hope that she might be persuaded to rejoin the world. "Hello, Milda." She barely lifted her hands in a shy salutation. "I'm glad to meet you. I've heard a lot about you from your sisters. Have you been listening to what we were discussing?" She nodded. "What do you think of the idea?" She nodded again. "I'm going to make a guess here. I think that you're not really worried about yourself, that you don't care much one way or the other. But what about the others? It isn't much fun for Casey and Nareesha, but they're big girls. They know that sometimes life hands you a plate of crap, and all you can do is deal with it. But Milda... What about Kitten?"

Milda blinked slowly, and her eyes turned toward the empty chair beside her. Nareesha, who had an artistic bent, had done sketches of the family for Clyde. He'd formed very definite mental pictures of each one, and now he could almost see Kitten, all messy hair and big eyes, solemnly watching her big sister. "I know that you want to keep her safe, and a lot of people might think that this is a safe place, locked away from the badness in the world. But there's no such thing as a truly safe place, Milda. You know that. You felt safe when you were with Nana."

Milda closed her eyes quickly, biting her lip hard. Acacia's voice growled, "Clyde..."

"No, Casey," said Clyde sharply. "Let me do this. She's never going to start to recover is she never faces it." His voice softened. "And we don't have to talk about it right now. Just remember. And remember that this place isn't really safe, either. You know about what almost happened with Landrue."

Again there was a growl from Acacia, but then, miraculously, a whispery, unfamiliar voice said, "Kitten was so brave."

Clyde was silent for a moment, his face split by a lunatic grin. His voice, though, was calm when he spoke. "Yes, she was. She's a fiesty wench. You all are."

"Not me." The voice was a little stronger. "I've never been... I'm not strong, like Casey, or smart, like Nareesha. I can't... I can't do things like them."

"Oh, no, darling, no," said Nareesha. There was warmth and feeling in her voice, and for once Clyde was sure that it wasn't just for effect. "You can do something that we can't. Milda, you can love. And you've shared that with us. You don't have to do this, not interact all the time with the people around us. I'll do that. But Milda please, don't slip back. Stay here with us. Talk to us. We're your sisters, and we love and need you. You're part of us."

Milda's hand moved, fingers flexing, and Clyde could almost see her holding the other girl's hand. "Reesha, I want to try. Mind you, I'm not saying I'll be able to do it. It's been a long time, and it still hurts. I had my reasons for withdrawing, but now I have reasons for coming back. You all deserve to be free, and if I can help arrange that, I will. And..." Her voice died.

"And?" said Clyde.

"And... Colin would want me to. He loved life, and he'd want me to be out in the world, and happy." She smiled sadly. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to manage the happy part, but I'm willing to try--for him."

"That's a very good start, Milda," said Clyde, "and I believe it will be enough to get you girls out of here and living on your own again. But Milda? Ultimate healing can only be done for yourself, not for others. You have to want it. Now." He folded his hands on the table. "We're not going to have you other girls just run into hiding. No, that would be too abrupt, and would be suspect. Anyone who looked at the records would want to know why there was such a sudden about face. For the next few days just go on as usual. Then gradually, over a period of several weeks, start interacting less often. We're going to have 'sessions' every evening from now on." He smiled. "As far as the Powers That Be are concerned, you're going to be my pet project. Doctors, of course, aren't supposed to play favorites, but let's get real. And you're a fascinating case, m'dear, so no one is going to be surprised if I take a particular interest in you. Maybe I'll start making noises about writing a scholarly paper--even a book. Administrators love that sort of shit." He cocked his head. "Maybe I WILL write a book. It's one of the few things I haven't tried yet. It'd be interesting to see if I could get it published without having to lay some form of whammy on the editor."

"You could," Kitten piped up. "Youse tell good stories, Doctor Clyde."

"Thank you, Sweetpea, but if I ever told those to the public I'd have a lot of people coming after my head."

"Secrets? But you tolded me."

"Yes, but you're crazy, Kitten," he said matter-of-factly, with absolutely no malice in his voice. "No one is going to really listen to you."

This made sense to Kitten. She nodded, and said, "But I not gonna tell." She held a finger to her lips and made a long, slow 'shhh'.

"Oh, a woman who can keep a secret. What a treasure." Joel came into the room, peering around cautiously. "It's all right, dear boy. Costas has crawled back up to his lofty perch in the front office. Come here." Joel went over and started to sit beside him. "No, no, Joel. Kitten isn't big enough for you to sit on her lap."

Clyde extended his hand, and Joel took it, sitting on the doctor's lap without question. He'd long ago accepted the fact that there were sometimes people around that he couldn't see or hear--at least as far as Kathleen Bahste was concerned. Joel played with Clyde's tie, whispering, "I'm sorry."

Clyde hugged him. "Don't be. It was going to happen sooner or later, and you saved me the trouble of figuring out how I was going to break it to him. But..." he poked Joel gently. "What are we going to do the next time we go to Clyde's office?"

Joel giggled. "I don't know what YOU'RE going to do, but I'M going to knock and wait to be invited."

"Good boy. And if you're going to be picky about grammar, you're going to go through life in a state of constant frustration." Clyde explained what they were planning to do to get the girls released.

Joel drooped sadly. "Kitten's going away?"

Kitten got up and went around the table, giving Joel a hug. "I don't wanna leave Joel. He's my friend."

Clyde stroked Kitten's hair. "Now, don't you two start getting upset about something that won't happen for months or years, if it happens at all. Kitten, remember, you're not going to have to ignore Joel." Clyde held up his finger, making a point. "You WILL soon have to stop playing with him when other people are around. Can you remember to do that? If you can't, I'll have to ask you to stop speaking to each other completely."

"I can remember."

Joel leaned over and pressed his forehead against her cheek. "We can make it a game. Whenever the nurses or the other patients are around we'll just pretend. And if you want to, you can try to make me laugh."

Kitten clapped her hands. "That would be fun. But Joel, won't they wonder why you just laugh?"

"Not really." He smiled. "They all think I'm crazy--why shouldn't I laugh for no reason?"