"But what it takes to cross the great divide
Seems more than all the courage I can muster up inside
And if we get to have some answers when we reach the other side
The prize is always worth the rocky ride"
-Indigo Girls "The Wood Song"
When we first drove through the gates of the clinic, I was a little surprised. It actually wasn’t too bad, I mean, it didn’t look like what I thought it would. It was actually a sprawling ranch out in the middle of no where, but fully equipped with all the modern amenities. I stepped out of the car (they were nice enough to send a car to get me) and Dr. Shyalan greeted me at the front entrance.
"You won’t regret this," he said.
"I hope not," I replied lightly, "or else I’m holding you personally responsible." I don’t know, maybe there was something about the air that made me feel more at ease, almost like a burden was being lifted off my shoulders. Or maybe it was the anticipation of the freedom to come. But then, again, I’d have to get through these next two months. That considerably dampened my mood.
Dr. Shyalan led me into the foyer and through the hallway pointing things out along the way and making comments on them. I listened curiously, trying to take everything in. The house, because that’s basically what it was, had an aura of warmth and security to it, like someone considerate was lavishing care in it. And I could feel some of that care spilling over onto the human inhabitants as well.
The décor was simple but carefully planned out. Everything in muted, reassuring earthy colors, merging and blending into each other. Paintings were framed in simple wood and most of the artwork seemed ceramic. Nothing ornate or splashy and everything had its place.
We stopped in front of a door with the word "Director" on a plaque. Knocking lightly, Dr. Shyalan turned to me with a smile.
"Dr. Riesen has been here for almost twenty years, five as director," he said.
"How is it you know so much about this place?" I asked. "Did you used to work here as well?" He looked at me, then shook his head.
"Actually, no. But I spent some time here, a while ago," he responded. I was going to press him further, but just then the door opened.
"Come in," a distinguished-looking man said, smiling at us. I immediately took a dislike to him. I don’t know what it was, but there was something about him that just rubbed me the wrong way. I guess maybe it was that he reeked of professionalism and that just brought home all the reasons why I was here again. This wasn’t a vacation, a little weekend jaunt or something. But in his defense, he wasn’t a bad person. And he obviously did his job well. He showed us into his office and we sat down.
"Mr. Littrell," he said pleasantly. "Welcome to Brookview Ranch."
"Thank you, Dr. Riesen. I have to admit I’m not too excited to be here," I replied honestly. He smiled faintly.
"I understand. We’re not exactly a resort. But these will be two of the most important months of your life. We’re here to ensure you get the help you need." I nodded.
"Thank you."
"If you need anything all during your stay, please don’t hesitate to come to me." I nodded again. "Do you have any questions?"
"No, actually, I think I’m good for now."
"Well, then, Tara will show you to your room. Your bags have already been taken up." We all stood up.
"Thank you, Dr. Riesen." We were walked out and were greeted by a young woman who smiled cheerfully.
"Hi! I’m Tara!" she said. I had to smile; her joyful exuberance was infectious.
"HI, Tara, I’m Brian." She giggled.
"I know who you are!" Damn, I had almost forgotten. I guess she noticed the smile slipping from my face, because in the next instant she grew serous.
"It’s okay," she said. "It doesn’t matter who you are. You won’t be treated any differently and we won’t look at you funny or anything. You’re just another guest here and we’re here to help you in any way we can." I smiled again.
"You people need to stop doing this," I said.
"What’s that?" Dr. Shyalan asked.
"Reading my mind," I responded, lightly. He and Tara turned to look at me, then laughed. I realized that was the first time I’d heard Dr. Shyalan laugh. I mean, really laugh, not some amused chuckle. It sounded really genuine, really soothing. I had to join in.
We reached my room and Tara opened the door. I walked in, pleasantly surprised at how normal it looked. I guess I’d been expecting some cold, impersonal cell, with standard issue sheets, bars on the window and a closet of a bathroom. Something like Sarah Conner’s room in Terminator 2. But I had to remind myself. This wasn’t a mental institution. It was just a… rest center. A temporary way station in my journey. I’d put in my time, so to speak, and be on my way in life.
"Well, I hope you like it." Tara’s cheerful words broke into my thoughts. "Let me know if you need anything." I nodded and she left the room. I turned to Dr. Shyalan.
"So this is it, huh?" I said. My calm acceptance of the situation was slipping. Reality was awakening. Dr. Shyalan came to stand in front of my face, looking directly into my eyes.
"It’ll be okay, Brian. You’ve strayed from the path a little, stumbled along the way, but you can rest a little here, before taking up your journey again." His words echoed my previous thoughts. Now that was just eerie.
"Can I ask you? What were you… why were you…" I wasn’t too sure how to phrase it.
"It was Percodan for me," he said, smiling wryly. "I wasn’t too different from you, finding a temporary solution to a much deeper problem. It’s not the easing of the pain, or the bliss you feel, but the sincere belief that you are just postponing the issue until you get a chance to deal with it. But you fail the realize, the real reason you’re putting it off is so you don’t have to deal with it all." I looked at him in astonishment as his words slowly sank in. "I spent six months here, the legal requirement. My license was suspended until I got back on track. But being on the other side, the patient side, really opened my eyes. And I think it made me a better doctor."
"Yeah, that’s what Harrison Ford said in Regarding Henry," I replied without really thinking. He looked at me for a second before laughing.
"One way of looking at it," he said. "But it’s something like that. Anyway, I should go, it’s about dinner time and you must be getting hungry." I nodded. I hadn’t really thought about it, but now that he’d mentioned it, I was pretty hungry. He looked at me carefully.
"A warning: abstain from red meat, caffeine and too much sugar. Tonight is going to be very difficult." I frowned, not quite sure what he meant, but nodded. He clasped my shoulder.
"Good luck, Brian. Call me, day or night, if you need anything. My prayers are with you." I smiled and placed my hand on his.
"Thanks, Dr. Shyalan," I said. "For not judging me and for lending me your strength." The corner of his mouth tilted up as he nodded.
"It comes from in here," he said, his fingers brushing over my heart briefly. "Have a good night." He walked out the door, leaving me alone for the first time in my new home for the next two months. I turned to my bags and started unpacking.
***
He was right. That night was one of the hardest moments of my life. I can barely even remember it, except that it got little better the next few
nights. I recall awakening suddenly, drenched in sweat, feverish, my head crying out from the pain, every nerve in my body on fire. I barely made
it out of bed and into the bathroom, before I vomited up the contents of my stomach quickly and violently. And even when there was nothing left,
I was still dry heaving. I remember hearing footsteps, as my face lay against the cool tile of the bathroom floor, and strong arms lifting me. Then
there was the brief sting of the needle and then oblivion.
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