Elizabeth Flock - But Inside I'm Screaming

“You said the wind was pushing you along. The wind is a primal force. Something we cannot control. And in the dream it was pushing you. And you noted that that was exactly opposite to what really happened when you went running along the beach. In reality, the wind pattern was opposite of what you dreamed. Do you think that maybe Alex was opposite what he seemed at first? Certainly, from what you’ve told me, he was a force that was at times out of control.”

“Yes!”

“And yet control is at the core of what your issues tend to be about. Alex was too controlling of you, certainly. But in the beginning, maybe you were comforted by his control of situations, since your father so lacked it—probably because of his drinking. It seems to mean something. I didn’t mention this to you when I first asked because I didn’t want it to color what you remembered, but typically, immediately following electroshock therapy, patients report dreaming about the incidents or people that have affected them the deepest. I find it interesting that, out of everything you’ve experienced, your subconscious chose Alex. What do you make of that?”

“I don’t know.” Isabel still feels dreamy and soft from sleep. “I just know that it was nice to remember something good about Alex since he’s so scary these days.”

“ Tom, I’m going to go call John and check in,” Isabel called over to the photographer while hunting through her purse for her cell phone. “But you know what we need—a wide shot of the main street, closeups of those people over there walking on that debris pile, blah, blah, blah.”

“Roger that.” Tom was distracted, searching for a blank tape in his gear bag. “We’ll have liftoff in T-minus five minutes.”

“You’re mixing metaphors.”

“Copy that. But right now I have to locate a Texas Arthur Peter Elvis. Aha! Have located said target and will now execute your orders, Sergeant.”

“Whatever.”

Tom straightened back up, tape in hand, eyes locked on something—someone—in the distance. “Incoming.” His voice softened so only Isabel could hear him.

Isabel looked up and then followed his line of sight.

“Oh, my God.”

Tom stepped in front of her.

“Were you expecting company?” he asked over his shoulder, still locked on his target.

“No.” Isabel could not believe who she saw through the tangled mess of a tropical town.

“I’ve got it covered.”

“Tom, it’s okay.” Isabel halfheartedly tried to shake her fear off and rein in her friend.

“No way, man. No way.”

“Well, well, well,” Alex said through his Cheshire cat grin, his whitened teeth fluorescent against his tan. “Look who we have here.” He sauntered up to them.

“What’re you doing here, man?” Tom asked in a belligerent tone.

Alex ignored him, although it must’ve been hard since Tom was twice his size and blocking his path to Isabel.

“Isabel, could you call off your guard dog?”

“What are you doing here, Alex?” she asked, emboldened by Tom’s protectiveness.

Alex gave Tom an I-could-take-you-if-I-felt-like-it look, even though he would most certainly have lost in a fight with Isabel’s burly photographer. He smiled smugly at them both.

“Can’t a man take a little vacaciones, as they say here? Great place, Puerto Rico. And, last I checked, a free country.”

“You expect me to believe you came here on vacation. In the middle of hurricane season. Coincidentally when I’m here working?” Isabel asked. “Who told you I was here?”

“Lots of questions from la muchacha, ” Alex said.

“Don’t be a dick.” Tom was impatient. “Get lost, man. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“That true, my darling?”

Isabel winced at the mock term of endearment. “I have to work, Alex.”

“My wife and I would like a moment to ourselves.” Alex adjusted his spine to try for a taller appearance as he spoke to Tom.

“I don’t take orders from you, asshole,” Tom replied.

“I’ll just be a minute, Tommy.” Isabel gently touched his back as if to calm him down. “I’m okay.”

“I’ll be over here.” Tom indicated a shady spot about two yards away. “Right here.”

When Tom was just out of earshot Isabel turned her attention back to her estranged husband. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I’m on vacation.”

“Don’t give me that, Alex. I know you followed me here. Why?”

He reached out and she flinched. “Easy. Easy. I’m just getting this hair out of your eyes.”

Out of the corner of her eye Isabel could see Tom was watching them intently.

“Look, I’ve got to go.” Isabel took a step toward Tom.

“Okay, okay, we’ll play it your way. But I must say you’ve completely lost your sense of humor.” He took a deep breath. “I thought we could talk. Just the two of us.”

“Alex,” Isabel groaned. “We’ve been over this a million times. It’s over. Let’s just move on, okay? Have a little distance?”

“It’s not over,” he said calmly, the smile instantly vanishing from his face. “Not by a long shot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. We are not over. This—” he motioned at an invisible string tying them together “—is not over.”

“Isabel, we gotta ship out,” Tom called to her.

“You better go now.” Alex’s smile clicked back on. “You wouldn’t want to keep your bodyguard waiting.”

He didn’t wait for Isabel to respond. He walked backward so that he could face her. “Adios.”

Isabel felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

“ Two o’clock, everyone! Medication time!” Julie consults her clipboard and calls the first name.

“Melanie?”

“Here I am,” she calls out cheerfully.

“Okay, Melanie. You know the drill. You’re aware of what you’re taking, right?” The nurse asks perfunctorily—like a flight attendant mechanically reciting the passenger safety instructions, knowing no one is paying attention. Three Breezes prided itself on its medication regimen.

“I know, I know,” Melanie says before tossing the pills into her mouth as if she is gulping down a shot of alcohol.

“Crystal Light or Hawaiian Punch?”

“Hawaiian Punch, please.” Melanie’s mouth is full of pills so it sounds more like “H’wine Pun, peaz.”

She thinks she’s so cute, that’s what kills me. She thinks everyone thinks she’s adorable. News flash, Mel: You ain’t all that.

Julie hands her a small Dixie cup, watches carefully as Melanie gulps that down, checks another box on her clipboard and calls the next name.

“Sukanya?”

Sukanya shuffles forward.

“How are you today, Sukanya?” Julie asks as she hands over the tiny cup of pills.

“Are you aware of the medication you’re taking?”

Sukanya blinks and the nurse continues.

“Crystal Light or Hawaiian Punch?”