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Authors: Catherine McKenzie
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me. Shit! I’m definitely going to have to talk today. Couldn’t I learn
some of those coping mechanisms first?
I raise my hand and give a little wave.
“I’d like to go around the room and have everyone
introduce themselves. Katie, you can go last. Ted, would you like to start us
off?”
They go one by one. Ted is a banker addicted to
cocaine and alcohol. Mary is a novelist addicted to heroin. There’s also a
pretty famous movie producer, a former child star if you use the term “star”
very loosely, a Fortune 500 executive, an up-and-coming director, an investment
banker, two lawyers, and a judge. Their addictions range from simple alcoholism
to drugs I’ve never even heard of. Did you know, for example, that if you take
fifty cold pills at once you start to hallucinate? Well, that’s what the
investment banker was doing every day until two weeks ago. Who knew?
As it nears my turn someone climbs into the chair
next to me. It’s TGND, Amber Sheppard in the flesh.
She’s wearing a bright green velour tracksuit that
matches her large eyes, and her black hair is in a tight knot on top of her
head. She’s much smaller than she looks on television (not more than five foot
one) and very thin. She’s not wearing any makeup, but her skin still glows with
youth and pampering. She looks odd, but beautiful.
And, oh yeah, she’s behaving rather strangely.
“Amber, what are you doing?” Saundra asks as TGND
plants her bare feet in the middle of her chair and crouches on her heels, her
arms up in front of her.
“Nothing.”
“We’ve talked about this, Amber.”
“My name is Polly the
Frog.”
So that explains the crouching position. And the
flitting tongue.
I look around. A few of the patients are laughing,
but most of them simply look annoyed.
“This isn’t acting class, Amber. Please sit in your
chair properly and introduce yourself.”
Amber’s cheeks flush with anger. “Fine.” She untucks her legs and sits in the chair.
“My name is Polly, and I’m a frog.”
“Amber, please.”
“OK, OK. My name is Amber.”
“And why are you here?”
“Because I was kidnapped by my parents and brought
here against my will.”
“Amber . . .”
“All right, all right. I’m addicted to alcohol and
cocaine.”
“Thank you. Katie?”
My heart starts to pound. I’ve always hated public
speaking.
“Hi. My name is Katie. I’m a writer, and
um . . . I’m an alcoholic.”
“Hi, Katie!” says the group.
“Wrebbit!” says TGND.
Chapter 5
No Rest for the Wicked
A fter group
I speed back to my room so I can get down as much of what I’ve witnessed as
possible. What I wouldn’t give for a microcassette recorder, or one of those
tiny hidden cameras that fit into your eyeglasses. But Bob thought it would be
too risky, so I’m left relying on my memory, never perfect in the best of
circumstances.
My roommate nearly gives me a heart attack when she
enters the room without knocking. I close the journal quickly, trying to appear
nonchalant. It feels like my heart is beating visibly out of my chest like in an
old Disney cartoon, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
Amy’s model-tall and beautiful. Her toffee-colored
skin matches her eyes, and her dark hair is tightly curled and chin length.
After I introduce myself, she starts to download the details of her life with
the ease of someone who’s been here for a while. She’s a lawyer who works at one
of the largest firms in the city. One too many cocaine-fueled deal memos landed
her an all-expenses-paid trip to the Cloudspin Oasis. She’s been here for
twenty-four days, and if all goes well, expects to leave six days from now.
We chat for a while, and then we have dinner
together in the cafeteria. It has a bistro-y feel to it, and another bank of
windows framing the green lawn that rolls out like a blanket toward the woods.
The view is breathtaking, but no one’s looking. Instead, everyone’s talking,
talking, talking about themselves. I
some of those coping mechanisms first?
I raise my hand and give a little wave.
“I’d like to go around the room and have everyone
introduce themselves. Katie, you can go last. Ted, would you like to start us
off?”
They go one by one. Ted is a banker addicted to
cocaine and alcohol. Mary is a novelist addicted to heroin. There’s also a
pretty famous movie producer, a former child star if you use the term “star”
very loosely, a Fortune 500 executive, an up-and-coming director, an investment
banker, two lawyers, and a judge. Their addictions range from simple alcoholism
to drugs I’ve never even heard of. Did you know, for example, that if you take
fifty cold pills at once you start to hallucinate? Well, that’s what the
investment banker was doing every day until two weeks ago. Who knew?
As it nears my turn someone climbs into the chair
next to me. It’s TGND, Amber Sheppard in the flesh.
She’s wearing a bright green velour tracksuit that
matches her large eyes, and her black hair is in a tight knot on top of her
head. She’s much smaller than she looks on television (not more than five foot
one) and very thin. She’s not wearing any makeup, but her skin still glows with
youth and pampering. She looks odd, but beautiful.
And, oh yeah, she’s behaving rather strangely.
“Amber, what are you doing?” Saundra asks as TGND
plants her bare feet in the middle of her chair and crouches on her heels, her
arms up in front of her.
“Nothing.”
“We’ve talked about this, Amber.”
“My name is Polly the
Frog.”
So that explains the crouching position. And the
flitting tongue.
I look around. A few of the patients are laughing,
but most of them simply look annoyed.
“This isn’t acting class, Amber. Please sit in your
chair properly and introduce yourself.”
Amber’s cheeks flush with anger. “Fine.” She untucks her legs and sits in the chair.
“My name is Polly, and I’m a frog.”
“Amber, please.”
“OK, OK. My name is Amber.”
“And why are you here?”
“Because I was kidnapped by my parents and brought
here against my will.”
“Amber . . .”
“All right, all right. I’m addicted to alcohol and
cocaine.”
“Thank you. Katie?”
My heart starts to pound. I’ve always hated public
speaking.
“Hi. My name is Katie. I’m a writer, and
um . . . I’m an alcoholic.”
“Hi, Katie!” says the group.
“Wrebbit!” says TGND.
Chapter 5
No Rest for the Wicked
A fter group
I speed back to my room so I can get down as much of what I’ve witnessed as
possible. What I wouldn’t give for a microcassette recorder, or one of those
tiny hidden cameras that fit into your eyeglasses. But Bob thought it would be
too risky, so I’m left relying on my memory, never perfect in the best of
circumstances.
My roommate nearly gives me a heart attack when she
enters the room without knocking. I close the journal quickly, trying to appear
nonchalant. It feels like my heart is beating visibly out of my chest like in an
old Disney cartoon, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
Amy’s model-tall and beautiful. Her toffee-colored
skin matches her eyes, and her dark hair is tightly curled and chin length.
After I introduce myself, she starts to download the details of her life with
the ease of someone who’s been here for a while. She’s a lawyer who works at one
of the largest firms in the city. One too many cocaine-fueled deal memos landed
her an all-expenses-paid trip to the Cloudspin Oasis. She’s been here for
twenty-four days, and if all goes well, expects to leave six days from now.
We chat for a while, and then we have dinner
together in the cafeteria. It has a bistro-y feel to it, and another bank of
windows framing the green lawn that rolls out like a blanket toward the woods.
The view is breathtaking, but no one’s looking. Instead, everyone’s talking,
talking, talking about themselves. I
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