The Eden Express_ A Memoir of Insanity - Mark Vonnegut [110]
“It’s OK, Mark. It’ll be all right. You’ll get out again. You’ll get well again.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise, Mark. A lot of people love you and are behind you. No matter what’s wrong, we’ll find a way out. When this is all over I’ll come and get you.”
“And we’ll go fishing and play some chess.”
“Well, I’m not much of a chess player, Mark. But, yes, I’ll take you to some of my kind of country and we’ll fish as much as you want. I’ll take you fishing up in the Kootenays.”
“Can’t I come with you now? Can’t you take me with you now?”
“No, Mark. I’m sorry. I can’t explain it all now. But as soon as things get straightened out I’ll come get you and we’ll go fishing.”
“OK, Pop, I’ll go back. It’s not really so bad. Easter break is coming up pretty soon. I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of an Easter.”
Mary made me tea now and then or a sandwich or gave me paper and crayon to play with. She was terse with me but not unloving, just a harried mother with a big problem son. Trying to keep me out from underfoot. Trying to reason with me on an adult level wasn’t very rewarding.
If Daddy knew that Marky wanted to fuck Mommy, Daddy probably wouldn’t like it much. If Daddy knew that Marky wanted to fuck his sister, Daddy would most likely not approve. If Daddy knew that Marky wanted to fuck the little doggy, he might think his son a little weird. He maybe might think that Marky should have an operation. He might be right. Isn’t there anything I can do to it? I don’t want an operation, Daddy. Please, Daddy, don’t be so square. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Daddy, now really, a big strong man like you afraid of a thing that maybe weighs three ounces? Now really, Daddy, let’s get serious. How can something so small be so much trouble? Isn’t this the sort of thing daddies are supposed to clue little boys like me in to? Come on, Pops, give it to me straight. Daddy, stop fidgeting.
One way or another, I found myself in Powell River Hospital again. Nurses and doctors would come say inane things and give me all sorts of shots. An old girl friend brought a baby she had had by me that I never knew about. I had a good view of the parking lot and you wouldn’t believe some of the people who came to pay their respects. Jackie Kennedy dropped by. Everything was terribly confusing, but I had told everyone everything I could. It was all up to others now. I just sat around or danced or sang or did acrobatics, and several hundred dollars’ worth of property damage, waiting for whoever was in charge to tell me what I should do next.
Simon and Virginia came to visit me. Virginia said something about my needing energy. She hugged me and then went limp in my arms. I guess she thought that was how you gave someone energy. She was probably just trying to keep from getting crushed.
A cop on either side of me. Half holding me up, half holding me down. Virginia and Peter behind me. Virginia saying, “Walk, Mark.”
“What the fuck you think I’m trying to do, bitch?” That’s the last thing I remember for quite a while.
There’s a whole day, maybe more, that’s just completely gone. I’ve looked pretty hard but can’t find any of it.
Apparently we went to the airport and the two cops and Simon flew me down to Vancouver. They put a straitjacket on me and kept me in a cell for a while and then took me to Hollywood Hospital. I remember nothing. Simon says I was alert and pretty chipper on the flight. I kept patting the youngest, most uptight cop on the thigh and Simon kept having to talk him out of clubbing me.
THE END. At this point the last few threads between my reality and that of others snapped. Throughout most of my insanity I had been responding, albeit bizarrely, to external events. My perceptions of those events had been bizarre and there was much else going on, but now what was really happening stopped happening altogether. It was the end.
I didn’t mind its being the end. Ending it there gave