Page 90 of Enemies in Paradise

“I’ll give you treats when I get back. I promise it won’t be long.” I won’t last long on the ice.

Willy meow-barks, and I choose to believe he’s saying thank you. Then I grab my skates and the hockey stick and head for the door a second time.

As soon as I step outside, I know exactly why Willy was trying to get outside. Lynette is there, surrounded by her squirrel gang.

There are even more of them than came after me. Lynette is so engrossed in talking to and hand-feeding them she doesn’t notice me behind her. That, or she just ignores me. But I don’t care. I’m too fascinated by what she’s doing to interrupt her.

The squirrels run right up to her and chatter as though they know what she’s saying. There’s one even sitting on her shoulder—it’s gotta be Mr. Whiskers—chewing a nut while turning it over and over in his little paws. In his frantic motion, every couple of seconds, he bumps Lynette’s tinfoil hat.

Each time, she reaches up and straightens it.

But when Mr. Whiskers sees me, he freezes, then scurries down Lynette’s arm and runs away. A few squirrels follow him, running in separate directions when they get to the tree line.

Lynette turns her head slowly until she can see me out of the very corner of her eye. “You scared them,” she whispers matter-of-factly.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper back.

My voice sends the rest of the squirrels scampering away in all different directions. Lynette watches them, waving and calling, “Goodbye, little friends. See you tomorrow! I’m sorry about the alien!”

Does she mean me? Am I the alien?

When Lynette turns all the way around, her tightly pursed lips give me my answer: Yes. I am the alien.

“Hi!” I raise my hand, partly as a peace offering. I know Lynette’s feelings about aliens.

“Hello. What’s your name?” She takes a nut from the bag in her hand and gnaws on it, so squirrel-like that I can understand why they like her so much.

“Cassie. I live in this studio apartment.” I wave my head at the door behind me.

“That’s correct.” Lynette stares at me so long that I have to blink hard to keep my eyes from watering the way hers should be.

“And you’re Lynette? Georgia has told me good things about you.” I attempt to smile, but she stops it with an even harder stare.

“Georgia joined the aliens. They want to buy my land. Now I have to join them too, so I have money to buy food for my squirrels.” Her voice is emotionless, and I wonder if she’s just telling me the facts as they are rather than trying to scare me.

I approach her carefully so she won’t feel threatened. I’ve encountered enough people on the streets of LA who have mental health challenges that I recognize Lynette isn’t someone to be afraid of, but I also don’t want her to be afraid of me.

“Maybe they want what’s best for the squirrels too, like you do. They want you to have the money to buy them food. That’s why they’re buying your land.” I stand close, but not too close.

Lynette finally blinks. “Oh. I never thought of it that way.” She stays quiet a little longer, blinking some more before saying, “You might be right.”

“I’m glad you think so.” I move a little closer to her, but when she tenses, I stop.

“I wish I could give Bear the pond, though. He’s worked so hard for his team.” Lynette wrinkles with concern while she looks into the distant trees where her squirrels disappeared.

I watch her watch the squirrels, wondering what else Bear has done for her, besides re-homing her squirrels. Maybe that was enough to gain Lynette’s devotion, but I doubt it. My guess is, his kindness to her goes back more than a few weeks.

“It’s been really nice meeting you, Lynette.” I’d like to put my hand on her shoulder or even offer to shake her hand, but I sense I’d only make her uncomfortable again. “I’d love to help you feed your friends sometime, if you’ll teach me how.”

For the first time, she smiles. “Yes. I can do that. Maybe tomorrow. I have a meeting tonight … I think.”

I wave goodbye, then walk to the pond. I sit on the bench to put on my skates, watching Lynette cross the field to her house while I tie the laces.

Some people may judge me for encouraging Lynette’s delusions. But that’s not how I see it. What I’m doing is helping her reframe without judging her reality.

One thing I learned on the job is, we all have stories we tell ourselves. We use our stories to either justify our actions or help us make sense of the world. Most of us have stories that fit into a wider worldview about what is right and wrong. Unfortunately, some people use their stories as excuses to break the law or be cruel to other people trying to make sense of their own world, too.

But a few people, like Lynette, have bigger imaginations than the rest of us. For whatever reason, they feel safer living in their own fantasies than in the real world.

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