[Del]'s Diary

ENTRY TWENTY-EIGHT

I woke up to the sound of Fill singing in a low gravelly voice, “I've got a lot, a lot of what I've got, and what I've got's all mine.”

I opened my eyes and found Fill sitting at the foot of my bed, swinging his legs. “And I assure you, I can cure you, if you're feeling blue—”

He stopped crooning on noticing I’m awake. A broad smile, “Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning,” I replied and sit up. “What was that song you were just singing?”

Fill waved his hand, “Oh, that’s an old burlesque song.”

“What’s a burlesque?” I asked.

Fill roared with laughter at this and shook his head, “Boy, have they ever done a number on you.” He continued to stare at me with an odd smile that stretched from ear to ear. I didn’t like it. Nor the way he grunted, “Look at you, as innocent as Mary,” and laughed again.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “Why are you here?” I demanded. At the moment, I didn’t recall much of anything other than I deserve to be here. That burden of shame and guilt never lifts off from me no matter how little I recall.

“Lord, what a question.” He pursed his lips. For a moment, I think he was going to say something but then he stopped. Finally, “At the moment, I’m to escort you to see Darling.” The way Fill said Darling is Dar Ling.

He rose. And then saw the fear in my eyes. His face washed with genuine concern. “Hey, relax,” he said, “We’re not going to the Sleep Room.”

The Sleep Room? I wondered at the name but could feel myself calm down from his reassurance.

I hesitated, but then rose out of bed. Fill went to take my arm in his.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Walking you to the Doc,” he laughed.

“I can walk by myself.”

He looked at me steadily with his green saucer eyes and said in a soft voice, “I know.” And then, “Look, if you try to run, well, I want you to know that the other night, I was being easy on you.”

“What other night?” I asked because at the time I didn’t remember, not having read Logos yet to remind me.

“Right,” he said. He opened the door and warned, “Stay by my side.”

We walked into the hall. It was bare. White walls with peeling paint. Cold hard grey floor. Burnt out fluorescent lights. Exposed dripping pipes. A loud industrial hum. The smell of urine.

We walked for a moment, and then swung around a corner. I froze in my tracks. The rat within me woke up with a startle, and started to gnaw. “It’s okay,” Fill whispered, “Trust me.” The rat waited, twitching its tail.

I somehow found myself willing my legs forward. Ahead was a door on the left side of the hall. My body shifted toward the wall opposite and I pressed my back into it. Fill pushed me forward gently, humming a melody I’m familiar with. As we neared the door, he sang the words softly, “She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain when she’ comes...She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain when she comes...”

For some strange reason, the song soothed me. It bugs me that it soothed me. It bugged me more that he knows it soothed me.

“Just a little farther,” he assured me. Soon we were clear of the door, and the rat settled down in the pit of my stomach.

“You should be proud of yourself,” Fill patted my shoulders.

“What do you mean?” I asked, not sure why I should care what he thinks of me.

He stopped and looked me in the eye. “You’re really strong is all.”

I didn't know how. I didn’t feel strong. We started walking, and he brought me to a door with the name, “Dr. Dar Ling,” on it.

Dar Ling’s compact office was surrounded by bookcases and file cabinets. The icicle man himself sat at a modest desk with Logos opened in front of him. Fill gestured for me to sit in a chair and watched as I sat down.

Dar Ling looked up at Fill and waited. Fill hesitated and then left, closing the door.

“And how is our patient doing?” he asked in my direction. It took me a moment to realize he’s talking to me.

I raised an eyebrow at him. He took that as an answer. “Do you know why you are here?” he prodded.

“Yes,” I said.

He nodded for me to continue and so I did. “I’m being punished.”

“How so?”

“Isn't it obvious?” I ask.

The Doc smiled a thin smile, “And why do you assume that are you being punished?”

“Because I’ve done something bad. The worst thing possible.”

“And how do you know that?” he inquired.

“Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” I answered.

He jotted something down in his notebook. Then he looked at me sternly. “I’ve noticed you’ve started dreaming again. Do you care to share?”

I shrugged, “Not in particular.”

“Hmm, it’s important that you do. Did you dream last night?”

“Yes.”

“What of?”

“Falling mostly.”

“Falling?”

“Yes, I was falling out a window from a high story in a building. I just kept dreaming it over and over.”

The doctor made a note of this. “Anything else?”

“Yes, I was a man. And it was morning.”

The doctor nodded and wrote some more. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions. Please answer them honestly.”

“Well,” I quipped with a hint of resentment in my voice, “Since you’ve said, please.”

Dar Ling looked at me for a moment and then started. The questions soon tire me. Had I been seeing things. Hearing things that weren't there. Felt I had unusual powers.

Maybe I’m in a psych ward, which probably means I’m crazy. But I don’t feel crazy, although we probably all say that.

Finally, he handed me Logos, encouraging me once again to write in it and then had Fill escort me back. This time, I held onto Fill’s arm as we passed the Sleep Room.

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