Page 58 of Ward D
I have to admit, he’s building a very strong case. But I have to remember that I am talking to a man with paranoid schizophrenia. A man who has been hearing voices telling him to do terrible things, and he has decided it wasn’t necessary for him to take his medications. Ofcoursehe’s going to think something suspicious is going on. That’s part of his disease. But there’s some kind of rational explanation for everything. There’sgotto be.
“I need to talk to Cameron.” I check my phone screen. Naturally, there’s no service.
“The only way you’re going to get any service on your phone is if you leave the unit,” Will points out.
He’s right. If I pop out for a minute, I can call Cameron and confirm that he’s fine and this is all just craziness.
“Fine,” I say.
Will follows me out of the staff lounge, over to the locked door to Ward D. The hallway is so dark over here that the glowing green light of the keypad looks almost unearthly. I don’t need to check the code, because I know it by heart. 347244. I’ve been reciting it to myself all night in case I need to get out of here.
“What are you waiting for?” Will says.
He’s standing behind me, shifting his weight between his feet, which are covered in thick white socks, no shoes. His hands are opening and closing repeatedly. He looks like he can’t stop moving.
It hits me that maybe this is all a trick on Will’s part. What if he came to me and told me all that stuff just to get me to open the door to Ward D? Because he wants out, and he knows I’m the only one stupid enough to open the door.
But no, I don’t think that’s what it is. Will brought up some really good points. And anyway, he’s here voluntarily. He was the one who came to the emergency room telling them he was hearing the voices. If he didn’t want to be here, he didn’t have to come.
I take a deep breath and punch the code into the keypad.
35
After I punch in the final number of the code, I expect to hear that loud alarm noise and a click as the door unlocks. But instead, all I hear is a soft buzzing noise.
I must’ve punched in the wrong code.
I type it in again this time, trying to steady my shaking hands. 347244. That’s it. That’s the code Dr. Beck typed in this morning. I could recite it in my sleep.
Except when I type it in again, I only hear that soft buzzing sound.
What is going on here?
“It’s not working,” I report to Will.
He rakes a hand through his hair. “Are you sure you have the right code?”
“I… I think so…” I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the code I recorded in the notepad. 347244. I try it one more time. “I guess I have it wrong…”
“Jesus Christ,” Will breathes. “This is…”
“Look,” I say, “I’ll go talk to Ramona. I’ll ask her about the blood on the floor, and she’ll tell me what the code is. I must’ve gotten it wrong but… I’m sure she knows it.”
“And you trust her?”
Will says it in a way that makes it sound like I would be an idiot to respond in the affirmative. But I have to remind myself again that paranoia is part of his diagnosis. Of course he’s going to come up with some crazy conspiracy theory. When in reality, there probably is a logical explanation for all of this.
“I trust her,” I say.
“Don’t let her gaslight you.” Will scratches at the thick stubble on his chin. “That blood wasthere. You and I both saw it.”
“Right…”
He stands there for a moment, but then he gets it that I’m not going to let him follow me while I talk to Ramona. After all, if I show up with him, I’ll lose all credibility. He takes a step back, holding his hands in the air. “Just let me know what you find out.”
I don’t answer him, but he seems to accept that and walks off back to his room. As he passes Seclusion Two, he stares down at the floor, at the exact place where all the blood was staining the tiles just a short time ago. It was everywhere, and then suddenly, it was gone.
I want so badly for there to be an answer besides just that I’m crazy. Maybe Ramona can give me that answer.
