The Eden Express_ A Memoir of Insanity - Mark Vonnegut [87]
It seemed like cyanide frosting on an arsenic cake.
If I had succeeded at least partly in putting Nick from Colorado out of my mind for just a minute or so, what he proceeded to do took care of that in a hurry. He came into the room with a lantern and started fumbling around. I think he grunted something like “Got to work on my boots.”
At this hour of the night? In this room? I looked at Virginia with a funny look on my face, like is this happening or am I nuts again? Is this weird or am I weird? This is our first time alone in more than a month and this joker comes in to work on his boots. As if we didn’t have enough shit to deal with.
But how long can it take him to work on his boots? The answer comes to that: about two hours. After which he blew out the lamp and lay down to sleep, maybe all of three feet away from us, where he groaned and sighed for a while and then got into some heavy snoring. If Nick, as I was trying to believe, was a regular, real person, he sure wasn’t starting off on the right foot.
Well, that pretty much shot any chance Virge and I had to talk about much. But we felt a community of having been intruded on. There was good will between us.
I didn’t sleep much that night, but it wasn’t panicky, I’m threatened, something awful is going to happen, pay attention, no time for sleep, and it wasn’t the euphoric breakthrough of having no need for sleep. I dozed off every once in a while but kept waking up again and looking around and thinking some more. It was so nice to wake up somewhere other than the hospital. Not sleeping probably had a lot to do with the fact that I wasn’t on all that medication any more. It would probably take my system a while to get used to not having all that Thorazine fog to overcome.
The next morning brought a swell piece of news. Nick was coming up to spend some time with us on the farm, maybe forever. He had asked Simon if he could come up, and Simon had said sure.
Mostly I just couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that Simon could be so dumb. I was very tired. I didn’t want any trouble, any argument, any friction. I just wanted to get back to the farm, where I could relax and let all the shit in my system work itself out. It seemed there was plenty for us all to do without throwing a stranger in the pot. The soup looked plenty thick already.
It was going to be tough enough to try to reestablish my life with people to whom I had been close. People I could explain something to in a few words. Getting to know someone is hard work. With anyone it would have been tough, and Nick from Colorado wasn’t just anyone.
Simon, can you really not see what’s in that cat’s eyes? Would you please wake up, Simon? Didn’t I teach you anything?
Early that day, Simon, Virginia, Nick from Colorado, and I headed up the lake.
Without Nick it might have been different. Who can say? I might have been able to relax and live happily ever after at the farm. But relaxing and feeling at home around him was about as likely as…? The stream flowing up the mountain? Why not? Had to use some image and the stream did just that a few days later anyway.
Bea was at the marina. Did she know I had been locked up in a mental hospital? About the things I had said and done? It would break my heart to have Bea be afraid of me. She was my second mother. She had been warm and good to us and obviously wished us well.
There was no fear in her face, but a deep motherly concern. I must have looked fresh out of the grave.
“Mark, I haven’t seen you for a while, you look like you’ve been sick.”
“Ya, Bea, a little flu and then one thing led to another. I was pretty sick but I feel a lot better now and everything’s going to be fine. It’s nice to be back.”
She obviously wanted to take me home and fatten