Skin and Bones Page 8

  And in they came.

  All looking as anxious as mice in a trap. Hugs first. Polite introductions next. Bones knew some of them had traveled a long way to be here. More than one of the girls warned her family in whispers about Dr. Chu’s propensity to lecture.

  Teresa’s mom was plump with the same cocoa complexion and nervous hands. She filled a paper plate with cookies. Her dad stood back, looking uncertain. Elsie’s mom was too gaudy in DayGlo for the dreary room. Elsie didn’t have a dad; at least, he wasn’t here. Her brother seemed normal enough in cargo pants and an AzHiAzIaM T-shirt. Sarah and Nicole seemed genuinely excited to see their families. Mary-Jane welcomed her grandparents.

  Lard’s mom came by herself. She was short and squat, wearing wide horizontal stripes, like she wanted to show off her size. She kissed Lard on the cheek and gave him a plastic sack. “A new apron.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Lard kissed her, taking the bag. Then he introduced her to Bones.

  Bones could tell she was nice.

  She smiled. “Bones?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah.”

  Lard said the cookies were sugar and fat-free. “So you can eat as many as you want.”

  Lard’s mom smiled again, and Lard smiled back, and Bones realized how much Lard liked her. Dr. Chu kept adjusting his smile, shaking hand after hand like an overzealous politician.

  Alice moved across the room toward a couple that had to be her parents. They wore expensive-looking suits. Hers, beige silk. High heels. His, white linen. Tom’s slip-ons, no socks. Both had practiced smiles and spray-on tans. They converged on Alice with air kisses.

  Alice was right. It was like they were actors playing the part of caring parents.

  Bones was beginning to worry that his parents were stuck in traffic when they finally walked in, looking as uncertain as everyone else.

  “Jack!” His parents rushed past the others.

  Bones nearly lost it and trembled when they pulled him into a hug, letting his arms drape over their shoulders. They felt like home and all the things he missed, even his dad’s stubbly cheek. He knew his mom would cry but didn’t expect his dad’s wet eyes. “We know it isn’t easy being in here,” his dad whispered. “We want you to know how proud we are.”

  When they pulled apart, his sister said, “The house is a big empty planet without you, weirdo.” Her smile could polish the room. She had on Bones’s North Face beanie, the one with the moth hole.

  Bones was about to ask his mom about the brown bag she was holding when Dr. Chu told everyone to find a seat. Elsie looked like she couldn’t wait to get this party started. Teresa looked like she couldn’t wait for it to end.

  “I’ll begin with a general explanation of eating disorders,” Dr. Chu said. “Then we’ll open it up to questions. Tonight’s gathering is as much for the families as for the patients.”

  Everyone waited for him to go on.

  “These disorders often begin with a typical preadolescent fixation on appearance,” Dr. Chu said, showing off a few thousand dollars of knowledge. He glanced around the room, staring into people’s eyes until they had to look away or die. “That soon turns into habits, patterns, and finally becomes an obsession.”

  They’d heard it all before. Their families had heard it. But the good doctor seemed compelled to repeat it for those who may have suffered from chronic memory loss.

  He stood center stage in a theater in the round, never missing an opportunity to give an audience something to digest.

  “Food or the control of food makes up for feelings that may otherwise seem overwhelming…food becomes a means of communication or solace or stillness.”

  Elsie’s mom got up for more cookies.

  Alice’s mom opened her purse and absently checked her cell phone. No messages apparently. She made a face and her lips pooched out, like she was channeling Donald or Daffy.

  Lard cleared something gross from his throat. “Maybe someone else would like to talk.”

  Dr. Chu raised an accusing eyebrow at Lard. This wasn’t part of his script. “Yes, of course, Mr. Kowlesky. Does anyone have something to share?”

  The room grew so quiet you could have heard a tissue drop. Lard’s mom reached for one. Even the board games on the shelf were paying attention. It was like the moment after a pop quiz is announced when no one knows the answers. The room was a heart that had misplaced its beat.

  Then someone coughed.

  “Teresa?” Dr. Chu said. “Would you like to talk about your recent breakthrough?”

  Teresa played with the eyebrow that used to have a safety pin. She glanced around, obviously uneasy about talking in front of a room of strangers. “I’ve been losing weight in a healthy way,” she said quietly.

  “Anything else?” Dr. Chu asked.

  She looked down, knowing what he was asking. “I was molested,” she muttered into her chest.

  Her mom grabbed her sleeve. “Shhh. Siéntate. Cállate.”

  Lard looked about to lose it. “Let her talk.”

  Tick-tock.

  Fun and games were over.

  Teresa pulled away from her mom. She began telling her story, talking really fast. “After school by our neighbor…”

  As Teresa continued, every so often she would shiver then sob. Tissues were passed. When she finished, her dad said, “I told you not to speak about that. Nunca, niña.”

  His words were a karate chop.

  Teresa collapsed farther into her chair.

  The room stared at Dr. Chu, waiting for him to say something. Do something. For Teresa. But it was Nancy who sprang into action. In an instant she was by Teresa’s side, talking to her softly, soothing her, without actually touching her.

  Then Mary-Jane’s grandmother spoke up. “You act like your daughter did something wrong, as if being molested was her fault. You’re the one who should be standing beside her, supporting her.”

  “Believing in her,” Lard’s mom added.

  Teresa wiped her eyes.

  Lard snapped his toothpick. “The worst thing a parent can do is try to quiet her kid when she’s ready to talk about something like this.”

  Teresa sniffed, sucking it up.

  Elsie pushed herself out of her chair. “The second worst thing she can do is put her down in a room full of goddamned people!”

  “You can’t make something like that disappear,” Nicole threw in. “Just because you don’t talk about it doesn’t mean it never happened.”

  Bones knew it often occurred like this. He’d seen lots of families who smiled too hard under the strain of trying to act normal in group meetings. Then a hurtful word or glance and someone cracked and spoke out of turn. Pretty soon even adults were acting inappropriately.

  Jill leaned into his shoulder. Bones took off his gloves and held his sister’s hand.

  Then Alice’s dad stood up. He walked purposefully toward the cart and poured himself a cup of coffee, stirring in sugar without letting the spoon touch the side of the cup. His tanned brow glistened. A dot of sweat darkened his lapel.

  He blew on his coffee and turned to address Dr. Chu. “Do you really know any more about this disease than the rest of us?”

  Alice’s mom cringed as if her husband had just thrown up and she didn’t want to get splattered. The rest of the room swiveled, like it was seeing the aftermath of a terrible accident and couldn’t look away.

  Bones expected Dr. Chu to rise to the argument. Instead he kept his gaze even, as if trying to prove this was a democratic forum where all voices would be heard.

  Alice’s dad continued. “You don’t know what it’s like having hopes and dreams for your only child,” he said with a theatrical intake of air. “And realizing they’ll never materialize because she’s sick and not getting better.”

  Whatever Dr. Chu was planning to say next seemed to be causing him great pain.

  Alice’s dad stirred the life out of his coffee while boxes of tissues were passed. “You don’t have any idea how many times she’
s been in and out of hospitals like this.” His voice boomed, trained to reach the balcony. “Programs like this, even the unconventional, alternative ones.”

  “Please, Mr. Graham, let’s not talk about this here,” Dr. Chu said evenly. “We can discuss it later, in private.”

  Alice shrank into herself, slid like a shadow from her chair, and floated down the hall toward her room. Bones watched her go, dying bit by bit. He wanted to kidnap Alice. Take her away from here. Hold her. Be there for her. But he just sat there paralyzed like everyone else.

  Lard glared at Dr. Chu. “I thought the reason families are here tonight is so we can talk about all kinds of stuff—”

  Nicole picked it up. “Instead of using food like we have in the past to stuff our feelings so we’re more dependent on food than ever to make us feel better.”

  “Like right now I’d sell my soul for a bucket of tater tots and a keg of beer.” Elsie scanned the room, daring anyone to make her shut up. “How does that make you feel anyways?”

  Bones liked that everyone in the ward was sticking up for everyone else. And they seemed genuinely concerned for Alice’s fragile condition. Her dad was still standing, his posture a challenge. “Can anyone tell me if there’s a cure for this damn disease?”

  Eating disorder, Bones wanted to shout at him. Not disease. Cancer is a disease. Tuberculosis is a disease. Chicken pox is a disease. It even sounded like something with a scab that can scar you for life. Food is a…what? A nutritional substance needed to maintain life. Whoa! Did that really come from him?

  Dr. Chu raised his hand as though to forestall a riot. Then he took a step backward, as if expecting overturned chairs, flailing fists, flying coffee cups. He started to say something then changed his mind and finally took over, trying to calm people down, talking to parents and other family members individually.

  Difficult time.

  Understandably upset.

  Recovery can be painful.

  Conquer your fears.

  Everyone seemed unaware of the others.

  As soon as it was obvious that the meeting had ended, people began standing up, glancing nervously from Dr. Chu to the boxes of tissues on the floor to the platter of sugarless cookies. Bones ushered his parents and sister down the hall to his room. Lard had at least attempted to make his bed.

  Jill studied the bulletin boards. “Cozy little warzone in there,” she said, referring to the meeting. “Not what I expected.”

  His mom looked equally disturbed. “Why do people have to argue like that?” She shrugged, kneading the brown bag. “And those two girls. What was the tiny one’s name?”

  Knives diced his heart. “Alice.”

  “All you have to do is look at her,” his dad said, “to know it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge.”

  “How could her dad talk about her like she wasn’t even there?” Jill put in. “What’s the point of bringing up past failures?”

  Bones thought about Alice slinking down the hall to escape her dad’s outburst. How no one had tried to stop her. Not her parents, Dr. Chu, or Nancy. Bones felt horrible, imagining Alice alone in her room, lost in ballet exercises, tuning out the world and everyone in it.

  He couldn’t imagine having insensitive parents like hers. His mom and dad loved each other as much as they loved him and his sister, even if they could be OCD when it came to work. At least they weren’t hooked on prescription meds or irresponsible with credit cards, like some of his friends’ parents. No sadistic sexual rituals with dead chickens.

  He felt guilty all over again, because as much as he told his family everything was okay, he’d noticed the dark circles under his mom’s eyes and his dad’s distressed glances during the meeting when he didn’t know Bones was watching.

  Bones half-expected his family to say something about Rachael Ray’s poster over Lard’s bed—or to ask how he liked his roommate or if he’d put on weight or how he liked the food. But they didn’t say any of those things.

  His mom only wanted to know if he needed anything from home. She set the bag on his bed and pulled out toothpaste, socks, and plastic hangers. “What do you think, honey?” she asked, shaking out a pair of jeans.

  Bones hadn’t worn jeans since the sixth grade. They were too tight out of the clothes dryer, pliers pinching his waist. He hated their sandpaper stiffness. “Thanks, Mom,” he said.

  His dad wanted to know if he’d been following baseball on TV. “Looks like the Dodgers have a shot at the pennant.” Then he gave him a couple of twenties for incidentals.

  Jill was flipping through Lard’s cookbooks. “Are these your roommate’s?”

  “Yeah,” Bones said. “He wants to have his own restaurant.”

  The irony was not lost on her. “Slick.”

  “He’s a great guy.”

  That was enough for them; it was time to say good-bye.

  Bones watched his family go, more worried than ever about Alice.

  16

  Bones glanced at the clock. Eight minutes past ten. Lights out. Where was Lard? He put on his wool beanie and checked the hall for squeaky soles. The ward was shadows and suspiciously quiet. How could anyone sleep after what happened earlier?

  He slipped unseen through the dayroom and headed to the stairs.

  There was enough light from the moon shining on the roof to see Alice, Lard, and Teresa huddled together on chairs under the same blanket. It smelled like a pot-smoker’s convention. Bones heard Alice sigh and saw the red tip of a cigarette waving back and forth like a gold sparkler.

  Lard’s flashlight blinked an SOS. “What took you so long, man?”

  Bones wondered how many rules they were breaking by being up here so late. Lard and Teresa getting high. Alice smoking like a chimney. He must’ve said it aloud because Teresa just about snapped his head off.

  “I don’t give a crap about rules anymore,” she said and fanned smoke before passing the joint back to Lard.

  Bones dragged a chair over. “No problem, Teresa. I totally get it.”

  “It’s always anorexia and bulimia around here, like A, B,” Lard said, exhaling loudly. “Seems like a little S and M might be a nice change.”

  Teresa thumped him.

  Alice offered Bones a corner of the blanket, and he burrowed in under the watchful eyes of tomatoes, beans, and squash. She clutched a slow-burning Marlboro; the cigarette trembled in her fingers.

  “You okay?” he asked her.

  “Same controlling bullshit,” she said softly. “Different day.”

  Alice took a deep drag and filled her lungs. Her body loved it. Bones loved it too. Suddenly he was jealous of the smoke.

  “It’s your turn, Lard,” Alice said.

  Lard giggled like a little kid. “Uh, what was the question?”

  “You’re already stoned,” she said.

  He held his hands up in mock peace. “Oh, yeah, I remember. Truth.”

  “What’s your favorite animal?” she asked.

  Lard paused. “Spareribs.”

  “I like it.” Alice’s voice smiled. “And what’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?”

  “Got caught pissing in a bathroom sink,” he said, staring into nothingness. “But I was drunk.”

  That got a laugh.

  Alice’s breath was visible in the night air. She lit another cigarette with the one she was smoking. “Teresa?”

  “Truth, I, uh, think. Uh, yeah, I’m totally good with reality.” She sounded as stoned as Lard, until she said, “Unlike every other person in my family.”

  They were quiet for a while, then Alice said, “Tell us one thing you don’t like about each of us.”

  Teresa burrowed in closer to Lard. “Okay, this is for Bones. Promise you won’t get mad.”

  “Lay it on me,” Bones said.

  “I don’t like the way you watch me eat—like I’m some kind of freak for trying to be healthy.”

  Lard nodded. “Sometimes you come off as a contemptuous asshole,”
he said. “But I mean that kindly.”

  They laughed again.

  Then they were quiet again. So peaceful. No one bugging them. Just them, being. Bones was thinking their little game had more truth in it than what had gone on downstairs. “Alice.” Teresa paused, unsure if she should go on. “I don’t like the way you use people to get what you want—”

  “Now who’s being patronizing,” Alice said.

  “Hey,” Lard said. “Not nice.”

  Teresa didn’t back down. “We just want you to get well.”

  “I got enough of that earlier,” Alice said. She stubbed out her cigarette and lit another one with little thought to the combustible material of the blanket. Even in the fuzzy light Bones could see her face was flushed.

  Teresa was back in the game. “There’s only one thing I don’t like about Lard. I’m afraid he doesn’t like me as much as I like him.” She relaxed into his shoulder, and grinned, big and goofy, like she couldn’t believe what she’d just said.

  Lard sat there, stoned and stunned. His joint burned on its own. Then he took Teresa’s hand and they slid from underneath the blanket and disappeared into the darkness. A light wind ruffled across the roof. Alice snuggled closer to Bones, barely smoking her cigarette. Bones watched it smolder. “What’s your wildest fantasy?” she asked, suddenly looking at him.

  Alone in the dark, hunched in conspiracy, this was his chance to admit how he saw their future together. But here was the thing: Bones was half afraid he was too inexperienced for her, even though the other half of him was on fire by what he was feeling.

  So he lied.

  He talked into the blanket so he wouldn’t have to see her eyes when he told her his second wildest fantasy. “I’m sick of being sick,” he said.

  Alice acted like that’s what she suspected all along.

  “God, Bones, don’t let them suck you in.”

  “It isn’t like that,” he said. “Lately I’ve been wondering what it would be like if I wasn’t so freaked out by food.”

  She looked at him, clearly disappointed. “You’d be like everyone else.”