Return of the Night Owl

I feel shaky as my nerves kick back in after seeing her again. Waiting for the elevator down is an eternal moment in which I'm craving a cigarette so bad that I have to make my way to the stairs and hurry myself out. It’s a cold, crisp day in New York City. I’ve always enjoyed the smell of coffee and cigarettes with a kick of cold to the face. There are few things out there like the struggle of holding the cigarette between your shivering fingers, comforted and balanced by the warmth of the coffee cup in your hand. Simultaneously satisfying your constant craving for warmth and the longing for comfort. I need a cigarette the most when I get out of these visits. So I put the coffee Miss Nancy gave me on my way out and lit my cigarette. It’s getting dark and I have a half an hour drive back–at least. Then probably another half hour of looking for parking or chasing away the homeless that always camp on my designated spot. Have I looked over the case? Am I ready for my meeting with the judge tomorrow? I’ll have to make time before bed for that, too. I can hear the sirens of trouble calling my name. I take one last drag of my cigarette, put it out and toss it in the trash. I can now cup my coffee more comfortably as I walk to my car. My beat-up, red, 1987 Acura Legend. My old companion through high school and college. An icebox in the winter nights, an oven in the summer days. Wouldn’t change it for the world, though.

After a few attempts it finally starts up. A thrilling reminder of never knowing when we’ll have to part ways for good. The coffee is just as cold as the puddle next to my left front tire– and probably tastes the same– by now. I toss it out, before forgetting I don’t have cup holders, and avoid spilling it all over myself. Though if I did, it wouldn’t be out of the routine. I keep that empty brown styrofoam cup until I find a trash can–because recycling is important.

Everytime I step out of that mental institution, I’m reminded of what real life is. Reality sinks in with a harshness I can’t seem to get used to. I am a detective that solves murders, rapes and all kinds of nasty cases. My kid sister, Mia, calls me the Night Owl. She says that I “take care of business, business no one else wants to”. We’re Irish twins but we may as well have shared a womb, we’ve shared everything since she was born. It breaks my heart to have to say goodbye each time visitation hours end. The only relief is when I hear Dr. Keller say she’s doing better. The look in her eyes tonight… *sigh* I reach into my inside pocket and grab another cigarette. Marlboro Reds. “How basic,” she would say.

Coming home after these days never feels like home. After another struggle with the rusty keyhole for the millionth time, I finally get through the door. I barely make it to the couch before knocking out. I wake up the next day to the sound of my phone ringing. In a startle, and a haze, I nearly knock the glass of water all over my coffee table as I reach for my phone. I recognize my case files laying on that table and I make an attempt to glance at them. First disaster averted for the day. My voice is groggy as I say hello. “Hope, we need you now. Get to 23rd and Jones. You’re gonna wanna see this before our meeting with the judge.” “On my way.” I stumble to the bathroom and brush my teeth. I think I smell worse than my toilet–no time for a shower. It’s a good thing Ronnie and I have been partners for six years. He’s more understanding about my poor hygiene than his wife’s.

“You look like hell. What happened last night?” Ronnie greeted me with a styrofoam cup of coffee and a goofy smile. “Went to visit my sister last night.” “Oh, Hope, I’m sorry. I hope she’s doing okay.” “Nothing to be sorry about, Ronnie, we have enough on our plates. What are we working with here?” I took a last drag of my morning cigarette and found a recycle bin to put it out on. It had several cigarette burns on top, which indicated–yet again– that there weren’t enough ashtray tops in this city.

“We’re meeting with Stacey. A worker of the Barn Owl Box Company that was in Staten Island for the week. She said upon placing one of the owl boxes she heard screaming and some gunshots. She said the yelling continued after the gunshots and heard some tires screeching. It’s half a mile from where Danny’s body was found. She said she didn’t go to the cops when it first happened, as she didn’t think anything fatal or devastating came from it. However, the screams happened… two days before the day he died. And…” “And Henry is in custody for kidnapping and murdering Danny within 24 hours of his release.” He closed his files and put his hand gently over it. “Exactly. We may be looking at a team.” He sighed. “Only one way to find out!” I patted him on the back.

“Hello, Stacey. I’m Hope. I work with–” “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re a cop. Look, I don’t normally talk to cops so we’ll keep it short. The only reason why I agreed to meet you is because, well a friend of a friend was kidnapped and roughed up. When that guy appeared on the news, he thinks that could’ve been him. He refuses to go to the police but I don’t want none of that happening to me or my friends. So I rather you catch those guys and keep them off our streets.”

“Stacey, thank you for coming to us. You’re doing the right thing. Can you tell me what happened?” I said with a calm, assertive voice.

“I was putting up an owl box for rodent control by the desginated areas in Staten Island when I heard screaming. It sounded like it was from two different men. Some voices, too, saying somethin’ like ‘he kicked me in the jaw what did you expect me to do!’ after two or three shots were fired. I didn’t hear if anything followed, but since it sounded like he got away I didn’t think nothin’ more of it. Then I came home and B– my boyfriend’s friend was there in panic and roughed up. Said he went to Staten Island and was kidnapped and beat up by some white boys. One looked old, one looked young. Then three days later when the dead boy was found he said ‘Holy shit! That could’ve been me!’ But refuses to talk any more about it. So don’t ask for more.”

“Thank you, Stacey. This is really helpful information.” I said to her. I gave Ronnie a glance which he received with a nod. As if he knew exactly what I meant to say. “Stacey, do you think, if you go back to talk to your boyfriend’s friend again, that he’ll be able to answer a few more questions? Or do you think you can bring back any more information about those two men?” “Nah, I don’t want to get involved. I just wanted to give you what I got. Both were covered in tattoos.” She got up and put her hat on. “Stacey, any more information you can provide can really save a life. Here’s my card. Please call me if you find any more information.” Ronnie gave her his sympathetic eyes as she took his card.

“What’s a barn owl box anyway?” He laughed and threw a donut from his car to me as he stumbled over his shoe to the driver’s seat. He was always so clumsy. “It’s a box put up by volunteers, or organizations, in hopes of conservation purposes. I think. Speaking of barn owls, I need to go see my sister again today after our meeting with the judge. But first we need to convince him we need more time. I’d have you go without me but I know how great you are at convincing judges on that!” I teased as I threw the donut back at him and got in my own car. “Hey! That was a good one! Fresh from today!” He laughed and backed out of the lot. “See ya there!” He shouted as he drove away.

As I’m pulling up to the courthouse I see Ronnie waiting by the stairs. He’s chugging his water bottle and his shoe’s untied. His briefcase isn’t fully closed, but he looks so… kind. How are some people like that? So kind that they even look it. He’s the type of cop a mom would trust with their child’s case. A type of guy a husband would like as a friend. I wonder how many of his family and friends see him and just appreciate him like I do sometimes. He works so hard on these cases. How does his soul go untainted by the lost cases that we’ve had? I can’t stop my drinking, win or lose. He doesn’t even smoke.

I meet him by the stairs and we go over what we have. “Okay, with this new information we may be able to buy some time to push the trial back a week. I’ve sent Gonzales to go talk to Stacey’s boyfriend’s friend. We may be able to get some leads.” He always lets me talk, rarely ever interrupts. “Do your thing. I’ll be by the door if you need me.” After 15 minutes, I come out with a smile on my face. “You did it, didn’t you?” He knows me so well.

The sun sets fast these days. I wishipser under my breath as I toss my third cigarette of the day before entering the Hospital. “Hello Miss Nancy, Mia having a good day today?” “Hello there, Hope. I sure hope so! Coffee while you wait?” She said as she held up the jug for me while I settled into the visitor's table. “Yes, please! Fourth coffee of the day.”

The visitor’s room always smelled so clean. Never a lavender, or lemon or slightly scented anything. Just… clean.” There were two nurses on Mia’s floor (the second floor), Nancy and Lori. Nancy's my favorite. The hospital is divided by floors, depending on cases (level of severity) or co-ed services. Mia is on the second, not severe and female only. She has this notion that she wants to be at the top, though. She 'wants to be promoted' to the top floor. Dr. Keller and I have explained to her many times that it doesn’t work like that and that she’s actually doing better by staying on the second floor. But she insists either way.

I wonder what friend she’ll talk to me about today. She says she spends most of her time with Danny, because he knows how to protect his energy and himself. He’s very stubborn, but she says she likes how sure he is of himself. He's always certain of the things that happen around him. She says she sees him in the co-ed meetings and takes on extra exercises for team building activities to see him. Annie is someone she doesn’t spend much time with. She’s very explosive and, well, “so toxic and destructive”. She always says it in a nagging voice. Besides Danny, she seemed to spend the better half of the last two months with Dedee. She’s some convincing, and comforting old woman, that ensures she’s better company than anyone else in the building. Danny, Annie, Benny and Dedee are the only friends she’s come in contact with–in six long years. I’m surprised I don’t know more about them by now.

“Hope! Hope!!” There’s that angelic voice. Oh how I’ve missed her. I just saw her yesterday. I put my coffee down and looked behind me. There she was running in her blue, patient, gown over to see me. She said she hates to wear the pants option because she’s always hot in those. She’s been incredibly chirpy since she stopped talking to Dedee... and got her new crocs.

“Hope! SO good to see you!" She jumped on me and gave me a very tight hug. We sat down and she pulled her hair back. Here comes the tea. "Oh my gosh! Benny and Annie GOT INTO IT today at lunch. Danny and I stayed behind and watched. Benny wanted another cookie but the attendant wouldn’t give him more. He kept pushing and asking for Miss Nancy to give him one more if he’d do the whole floor’s chore chart. Annie got up and threw her tray to the floor. Crumbled her cookie in her fist and slowly threw bits and pieces of it at him. It was dramatic.” “Was it? Tell me more. Were Danny or Dedee there too?” I said as I put a toothpick between my teeth–no smoking in the visiting room. Her eyes widened with affection. She always seems surprised that I’d care about her day. Or want to know more about her friends.

“Oh no, Danny and Dedee avoid each other for the most part. It’s fun, huh? At least they take turns. I don’t know, if I was Benny I’d have just stopped asking. We all get one cookie, that’s all we get. He knows the rules. I can see why Annie was so bothered, but we all just ignored it. He likes to push or change the rules. But we all know, rules are rules.”

I went home thinking about her over and over. I didn't even give my case a second thought. How lonely it must be to only be surrounded by four people that you like. Or dislike, but can’t get away from. How sad, that her whole day consists of what happens during lunch or group. I feel so bad that she’s just… just stuck there. “I met Abby today…” I remembered she said. She seemed scared… but, happy? Almost hesitant but excited to share with me she had met a new friend. Who was she? She said… “She said that ‘healing means saying goodbye.’”

I called Ronnie and told him I needed to take a personal day tomorrow. I rushed back to the hospital. Of COURSE it starts raining when no one’s here to answer. I keep buzzing anyway. I love the smell of rain. Even though I could see my breath on the glass door, I felt warm inside. God I’m craving a cigarette.

The door unlocked so I walked in. Someone must’ve buzzed me in. I smelled the fresh coffee on the table. It’s still hot, I thought someone must’ve recently been there and might be on a bathroom break to have left freshly brewed coffee in the open after visiting hours. I heard a loud noise upstairs. The noise startled me so much I spilled coffee on my shirt. It was so hot I ended up dropping the whole cup. This place is so creepy after dark. I walked upstairs since I figured the elevator would be even more creepy--and I was not going to give this place a chance to trap me overnight. I realized I forgot to close the entrance doors and went back for the stairs. My feet and floor were wet from the rain and I slipped down the stairs. An entire floor, or two. It felt like I was never-ending-tumbling down the stairs. I untightened my stomach and opened my hands from the fists I had, in hopes of stopping the fall. I felt something hit my head.

I seem to free-fall into this gravitational pull. One in which I experience feelings that I had never felt before. I’m pulled into existence. I’m pulled into relief. I’m pulled, I’m pulled. There is a mirage of scenes and pictures of people that I haven't met. Lighting up in different colors as my feelings change with them. Just as fast, I see many pictures of people that I’ve loved. I fall into this deep, comfortable bed. Dr. Keller is standing over me. He’s looking at me like a doctor sees a patient. In his left hand he is holding a file. I come to at the bottom of the stairs. There he is again, but this time… this is real?

“Easy, easy. Can you hear me? Do you remember your name? Do you remember where you are?”

“Yes, I do. I’m Hope, Mia’s sister. I came to visit and I slipped on the wet floor. Spilled my coffee on my white shirt and then blacked out. Or was it before? Seemed to have had a weird dream and then I woke up to your voice. I’m at the NYC Institute for the Mind. Or whatever cheesy name this place has.” I cough and feel as though I’ve bruised a rib. Didn’t I hit my head?

“Welcome back, Hope. ”

“Always so welcoming.” I said as I reached for my head. I was wearing a blue gown, like Mia’s, and was at the bottom of the stairs sitting next to a small puddle of coffee. “What am I doing down here? And how did I change out of my white shirt so quickly? I thought I had just passed out. Did the nurses change me? Can–can I see Mia?”

Dr. Keller took a breath. “It’s okay, I’ll take it from here, Miss Nancy, can you get Ryan to mop this coffee and ensure everyone’s in bed?” He said to one of the nurses. All of a sudden, I didn't recognize her. He helped me up and walked me two steps to a bench. It was next to a big oval window which he looked out of. He waved his hand over the bench, indicating to me to take a seat. “Do you think Mia is down here?”

“Why do you ask like that? Of course she’s here, isn’t here where you keep her?” I looked out the window and saw a full moon. My heart got heavy, I became numb and my throat became a knot. Why am I feeling so anxious? It’s just a full moon. What is happening?

“Hope, are you alright? You seem a little off, right now. Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable? Is it something that you, maybe, saw? Would you like to talk a little bit, to me, about it?” He asked with a kind tone and concerned look on his face. All of a sudden my throat was dry and my heart felt heavy. All I could do was look back at the moon. It’s a full moon, my love.

Where is that coming from? I must’ve hit my head pretty hard to be hearing voices. I can almost see his face. The man that said those words to me. My hand began to shake a little. Dr. Keller looked back up at the moon. He hesitated, but shifted his hands over on his lap. He looked down and with a careful tone, he said, “you know who else enjoyed a full moon? Stanley.”

It’s a full moon, my love. As the moon fills up every month, my heart fills up with you. My heart is 95 moons full of you tonight.

“St–Stanley?” My lips quivered. My tears began to flow. Rivers, but no sound.

“Mia… You lost your husband on your 8th anniversary. You committed yourself here because you said your grief had driven you mad. What you went through–it was so hard. Your mind didn’t know how to cope, so you created a new story. You’ve created a sister to help you cope with the loss of your husband and the tragedy that happened when he died. Every person that “you’ve met” inside this institution, that you talk to her about, has been one of the five different stages of grief. You “met” them shortly after you arrived. You refused to talk to anyone around you. You would struggle to take your medication. We were so worried about you until you went to Group for a discussion on the five stages of grief. From then on you started talking to me, and the nurses, about each friend you’d meet. Since you were talking and seemed to be taking steps in your recovery, we stopped encouraging you to talk to the others in your groups. We realized that it was easier for you to approach us staying in your identity of Mia, but having Hope to shield you and protect you from the conversations you weren’t ready to have.

“Today, your “sister” met Addie for the first time. I believe that could be acceptance. Everyone else she’s spent a lot of time with and we’ve come to know them very well. I had not heard of Addie, though. Could that be the reason why you’re lucid, back, again? You were getting closer to cracking the case that your imaginary sister, Hope, was working on. Your brain has been using Hope as a coping mechanism to create a justice system. The men that murdered your husband, raped you and left you for dead… they were never found. Hope is the part of you that continues to search for justice in your case. For justice, anywhere. But you’ve never come this close to the end. Does any of this ring a bell?”

I start sobbing, hysterically. “My husband?? What do you mean?! How did he die?! Stanley? Was that his name?” I try to stand up but quickly fall back on the bench. The images come flooding in. The mirage of “people I hadn’t met”, on the way down the stairs, was… him? It was him and our friends and… our life.

“Mia, let’s take a deep breath. You’re having a panic attack. Breathe with me. Remember how we do this? One, two, deeeep breath, that’s it. Exhale, two, three. Good job. One, two, deeeeeep breath. Good, good. See, you didn’t need medication this time. Mia, you’re doing terrific. I’m so proud of you.”

He looked behind me and waved his hand. I continued with the breathing exercises as his other hand held one of mine. I was plummeting. I was dizzy. I was tired. “Would you like to see the poems you–you wrote through the lens of each of your friends?” Miss Nancy was now standing behind him. He reached back without losing my eyes. She handed him a folder she was holding. It looks just like my–Hope’s case file. She takes a step back, but doesn’t leave. Dr. Teller opens the folder and looks over a few papers. There were pictures, and police reports? He grabs four pages and hands them to me. “Danny”, “Annie”, “Benny”, “Dedee”, on the titles of each “stage”. I pick up one by one and read them through the tears in my eyes.

Danny- Denial

It’s okay, don’t say it, I’m sorry

Don’t you worry bout a thing, I deserve it

You need space, or are too busy for my call

I get it

I’ll just close my eyes and you’ll be here,

Like always

It’s okay, nothing’s changed, on my end

I’m right here, for whenever you decide to call

My darling

I can’t wait to see you, hold you tightly

The way you smell and smile are the same reaction

My heart, it tells me

You haven’t called me yet, it’s getting late

Come, hurry, home

Last time that we kissed, your lips were frozen

I hope you’re warmer now, I miss you

I’ll stay up, the porch light's on

I’ve got the heater on, can’t wait to see you

I close my eyes and my heart, it aches for you

All this love I have for you, I can’t wait to give it

All of it, all of me, when once again I see you

Annie- Anger

Why hasn’t he called me yet?

Did he forget my name?

He used to always spend time with me

Could never get enough of me

Is there something in me he now hates?

I can’t stand the way the wait makes me feel

Have you seen the way these kids scream these days?

It’s the same way I scream for him

I can’t wait to yell at him

For leaving me waiting this whole time

Does he not care about anyone else’s time?

Ugh I can’t stand it, people are so loud around me

They’re always telling me to smile, I’ll look better

They ask about why you’re not around,

Like you used to be my sweater

I can’t stand the way I feel right now, just call me

Did you hate the way I screamed at you? I’m sorry

I shouldn’t have said such nasty things before you left

Please come back or do you hate me?

Ugh, can’t say I blame you, now

I can’t stand me

Benny- Bargaining

Okay, hear me out this time

I promise I’ll make it short

I’ll never yell again, please come back again

God, if he’s out drinking at the bar

Or talking your ear off

Please bring him home, I miss him

I’ll go back to church

Here’s the thing, I need him

Just bring him back to me

I’ll take care of him

I’ll nurse him back to loving me

I’ll never drink again

Please get him home

Baby, if you can hear me

Please come home

I’ll do whatever it is you want

Anything you ask

Just ask, baby, please

Just ask

Whatever your heart desires

I’ll move mountains!

Every stinkin’ one of 'em

I swear

Baby, please, hear me out

Just ask

Dedee- Depression

I don’t think I can– I can’t

What is there, left inside

Of me

Can anyone hear

A single word I speak

It’s so frustrating to speak

When everyone around is deaf

Why do they just stare

It’s exhausting

I’ll just stay on this couch

My bed’s never done me wrong

It’s far too cold to touch the ground

How can you have such big appetite

If a feeling ever comes, it leaves with tears

No I don’t lack courage, I don’t have fears

Just leave me by this window

When will the moon fill up again

She’s the only listener I have/ These days

Stuck forever in a haze

I began to cry again. This time, Nancy greeted me with tissues. I sobbed, and blew my nose, and cried, and took deep breaths. All of this on repeat. I felt every word, so deeply. Dr. Keller took out a blank piece of paper. He wrote something at the top before handing it to me. He looked up at me with those kind eyes and asked, “would you like to write a poem, right now? Maybe about what you may be feeling?” I looked down at the piece of paper he’d just written on: ‘Addie?’

I reached out for the piece of paper and stared at it.

Healing means saying goodbye

I crumbled the piece of papaer in my hands. How dare he?!

Anger sank in as I finally stood up from that bench. I looked up at the moon then back down to Dr. Keller. “My name is Mia and I have been a patient for the last six years, here at the NYC Institute for the Mind. I’ve been diagnosed with “Grief” and you won’t let me out. When will you understand, Dr. Keller, grief is not a reason to lock people up! There are dangers out there! There are people out there that need people like me! I can’t protect them behind bars! I can’t protect them from in here! What if someone gets killed?! What if someone’s family gets killed? They can witness terrific things out there, you don’t know! You–you don’t know what can happen out there…” More tears, more trembles, some… peace?

I fall back on my knees and Nancy rushes to pick me up. Dr. Keller signals her to move slowly and I feel her embrace. She cares about me? I was shaky from the adrenaline and feelings coming over me. I thought about my husband, I thought about my broken ribs and punctured lungs. I thought about the sadness. It’s consuming…

“I’m so tired, Dr. Keller. Do you mind if I stay? Just for tonight. Can I be in Mia’s room? I really– I need to see her. Tell her it’s okay. Tell her that I’m here.” Dr. Keller’s eyes filled with disappointment and his shoulders sank. “Mia, try to get some rest. We’ll start again in the morning.”

—------------ ------------- ------------- —------------ ------------- -----

“Good morning, Mia. How are you doing today?”

“Not so good, Dr. Keller. My sister left without saying goodbye. I was so excited to share all of my progress with her. I wanted to tell her I met Abby and this time I was trying to be her friend. Abby is a runner, though! She got away. But I understand why Hope couldn’t stay. She needed to protect the city. Especially at night. She couldn’t stay here–I wouldn’t want her to stay in here for me.”

“That’s too bad, Mia, I was really looking forward to speaking with her again. We hadn’t had a chance to talk like that in a few months. I was really excited she had made the time. Did she mention if she’d be back any time soon?”

“She’ll be back. The Night Owl always comes back, Hope always comes back.”