Nellie left the day of my hearing with the medical board of the hospital. She packed her things up; the nurses were in a rush to get her out. A police officer came into the room with a man who seemed to be collegial with Nellie. It struck me from the way they were treating Nellie that the hospital may have done something wrong in her case. Even the wicked red headed nurse was helping Nellie collect her belongings when, not just a day before, she had smacked Nellie in the face for not moving fast enough. As she gathered up her things, Nellie stopped and turned to the redhead. I watched her defiant stare, her raised eyebrows as she took on an expression that promised justice. That was the look Nellie had kept to herself during her time in the ward; it was what she'd taught me to suppress. Seeing Nellie stand up to them gave me hope that maybe one day I too could reveal the truth without being accused of insanity.

The nurse backed away and fumbled while helping Nellie gather her things. Nellie's eyes kept finding mine. I had just woken up and the stout nurse was trying to herd us all out of the room. This time, because the men were with Nellie, they were sickly sweet about it. That made it easy for me to take my time.

Nellie came over to me just before she left. She gave me a hug and handed me a small piece of paper. "Here is my information. Call me when you can. Or write to me. If you have visitors, give them this information I'm going to try to help you. Do what I've taught you, all right?"

The paper said:

Nellie Brown, Chicago Tribune 435 North Michigan Avenue in Chicago, Illinois

With that Nellie was escorted out. Just as the three of them left, the stout nurse smacked me hard on the back. "Give me that paper, what are you conspiring to do! Missy you aren't going anywhere for a long time."

I kept a neutral expression as she tore the paper and threw it in a dirty bedpan. She thrust the soiled container into another patient's hands and sneered, "Go empty this waste."

Her words of torment didn't even penetrate me. The redhead threw a dress on my bed, "Get yourself ready there Missy. You've got your big hearing today." She turned to the stout one and laughed. "What'll you think it'll be Suzanne."

A big grin grew on Suzanne's face. Her yellow teeth were horrible to look at, "I don't know she's awfully pretty. Maybe Dr. Norse will take a liking to her. Maybe have pity on her."

"Naa, I'd wager my mother's soul-- it'll be shock therapy."

The stout one was pulling sheets and tossing them on the floor for the patient custodians to carry down to the laundry. She nodded her head reflexively. "That's true. That's about right."

Terror rose inside of me. It was of the kind that I'd have never been able to contain before. I had been so prone to screaming and crying in the past. I certainly would have broken down just hearing them say the words and knowing all along what the treatments behind those doors were even though Eileen would never tell me. I had experience watching women go into the rooms screaming and then coming out unconscious or worse re-entering the ward, looking around numbly with their heads wrapped in bandages, nothing at all alive in their eyes. I had seen the lady in the bed next to mine shake all night long from freezing baths or sheets lined with ice; left there all day, alone and cold . I wanted to scream as loudly as I could. I felt it rising.

In my short time there I'd seen many women come back from shock treatments. Returning from the treatment rooms in comas; afterwards lying in bed with open eyes. They'd remain like that for a couple of days until life returned to them. That's what Nellie was warning me against. I knew it was worse for the women who had surgery. After they recovered were really like little children, pleasant and calm but really no mind of their own. These fears spun around me, but they weren't like childhood myths –monsters and ghosts—they were possible, even probable, fates.

The little stout woman's teeth made me sick. Yellowed with a sticky white film around the gums. As she laughed I grew nauseated. My feelings escalated as the red headed nurse pushed the other poor women; I felt as if I couldn't contain it any more I felt my arms tingle with desire to strike them both. To strike them until they were dead.

"What's that dearie?" The stout one asked.

I must have said something. I was afraid of my rage; it had blinded me. But what had I said? I took a deep breath. "Thank you," I whispered.

"You got nothing to thank me for--Get ready there dearie, don't keep us in suspense. We want to know what they have in mind for you. It's better than my soap operas." I pulled on my slip and then my floral dress. After only one wash it was bleached and faded. I could see how in no time, it would be threadbare. I fixed my hair as they were herding the rest of the women into a line in the hallway.

"Keep her here," the redhead, Suzanne, said to the stout one. She was referring to the old woman who she was holding by the shoulders.

The woman was stamping her feet and screaming "No!" She was the same one with the contorted face out of a fairy tale, her mouth always in the shape of a scream. She was very upset. Suzanne held the woman's shoulders, while I walked out to the hallway and stood in the line with the other patients from my room. A moment later, the redheaded nurse returned with two male orderlies. The orderlies were carrying metal buckets of ice.

I'd wished Nellie were there so I could ask her what they were going to do to the naked old woman. I realized I could see into the room well enough to make out what they were doing. They pulled down the top sheet and poured the ice over the bottom sheet. I looked to the woman next to me for validation, but she was picking her ear and rocking back and forth. Her eyes were set on nothing. I looked back into he room and they had covered the bed of ice with the top sheet, and then tied knots in the sides so the ice was contained between the two sheets. Then the two orderlies picked the lady up, she looked as though she weighted nothing. They placed her in the bed and the redhead, Suzanne, and stout little restrained the woman's arms to the bedrail with towels they'd rolled up and tied. The lady was screaming.

"That'll teach her to shut her mouth when she's told." The redhead said, then she motioned for them all to leave the room.

She walked into the hall and closed the door to the women's cries of agony.

The redhead looked at me, "You should mind your own business dearie. Wipe that look off your pretty face."

That scene alone would have sent me into tears just a week ago. Despite maintaining my composure, the woman's contorted face and the terror in her eyes, stayed with me all day. It would enter my thoughts and cause a searing pain into my stomach.

During the long walk to the room where the hearing was to be held, I repeated Nellie's words over and over in my head. No matter what they said to me, I was to be gracious and pretend to be fine. I could not --would not-- scream and cry. I had practiced with Nellie the night before. She had played the role of the doctor and handed out the worst possible decisions. She presented the worst possible scenarios. I practiced maintaining a calm demeanor, regardless of what they were promising to do to me. It was all in whispers into the dark room, but still our rehearsal had terrified me.

"Eve, we think you'll need to be confined in a more therapeutic ward"

"Eve, we're going to try electric shock treatment several times a week. We'll monitor you for a few months. If not, there are surgical options."

We practiced each one of the many scenarios. We also went over questions the doctors may ask. We did it until I could respond to them without as much as a quiver in my voice. The most difficult role plays were the ones where she pretended to be a doctor asking about Charlie and my capacity to mother him.

"Mrs. Miller, did you find it difficult to care for your little son Charlie?"

"How did your moods and behavior affect your son? How will you behave differently were you to be rehabilitated?"

It had been well into the night before we'd finished practicing. After I'd heard Nellie's faint snore and I knew I was the only one awake in the room, I let the silent tears fall on to my pillow. I cried without making a sound for a short time. I heard the clacking on the tile up and down the hallway. In the midst of that rhythm, the sound of nurses walking while I slept, I stopped myself. I decided that I wouldn't cry at all, any more until I was free. For even allowing myself to in the deepest moment of privacy, I was weakening my resolve. I had to grow completely numb.

I sat alone across from a table of three men and two women. Dr. Maynard was there, still smoking, squinting periodically as he wrote. Dr. Norse was also there, looking dapper and with a fixed, charming smile. There was another man I would come to know about later. He was a psychologist who performed testing on the patients; his job was to determine if the treatments and rehabilitation were improving our mental states. A female nurse was simply there to take notes and another woman, Mrs. Lange, was a social worker.

The proceedings were very short. They had conducted their observations. They reported that although I had definitely demonstrated periods of impressive control over my emptions, it was their unanimous impression that I had exhibited a chronic pattern of unpredictable melancholia and had a history of lax moral behavior. In it was their opinion that these sort of patterns, particularly after going on for years and exacerbated by grief of losing my husband and melancholia following childbirth, would –without a doubt-- grow worse if left untreated. "The outcome in these cases is very poor," Dr. Maynard announced looking only at the two male psychologists.

"I find Eve charming and very easy to talk with," Dr. Norse stated matter-of-factly, "but she did display forgetfulness when we spoke in a casual setting." The three doctors nodded.

"Eve, we have developed a treatment plan for you." Finally, Dr. Maynard addressed me. In fact, all of them had their eyes on me and it made me feel small and worthless.

I nodded. The pain in my stomach was increasing and it had begun to spread to my shoulders. I felt as if it would rise to my neck and I would become unable to speak.

"We won't know if you've stabilized for a couple of weeks. We're going to have you undergo electroshock therapy. This treatment has a very high success rate for melancholia."

I nodded. I wanted to cry and resist. I wanted to scream, but I held on to the belief that perhaps Nellie was who she said she was. The way she left certainly indicated something. I didn't know what she'd do for me. I had a sobering thought; I could make it three weeks of treatment if I knew that would help get me home. So I told myself they would. In that moment, I'd convinced myself that Mary and Nellie were going to get me out.

"Thank you for helping me," I said just as Nellie and I had practiced. "The time I've had to rest here has already been very good for me."

This was the first time I saw Dr. Maynard smile. He nodded his head. "I'm so glad Eve. I know it isn't easy to try and carry on with all the duties of motherhood with so much pain all the time. You are a very good candidate for treatment."

I felt dizzy and forced myself not to faint.

"Eve, is there anything else?" Dr. Maynard asked.

"I would love to see my son and my friends." I said.

The board all looked at one another. Dr. Maynard turned to the social worker. I don't know why this was her domain but it was. Mrs. Lange was skinny and tall. She had an Adam's apple and wore a mustard colored shirt with a straight black skirt. Her hair was up in a fashion meant for older woman, yet she could only have been little older than me. She was smoking; red lipstick smudges were around the filter when she removed her cigarette, looked up from the paper and spoke to me, "You mean your son and those caring for him in your absence?"

"Yes, that's right." I said politely, avoiding any desperation.

She nodded squinting from the smoke that wafted right into her face. She waved the smoke away and looked at the doctors. "Yes. I think it would be good for her. She poses no harm to herself or anyone else. Her violent behavior may have been caused by the shock of leaving her home so suddenly. She is melancholic not violent. Yes, I think family and some occupational therapy time outdoors would aid in Mrs. Miller's rehabilitation."

The doctors all nodded their heads. Nellie's advice had been right. I felt elated over the thought of seeing my baby, but I only allowed a subtle smile, "thank you. "

The lanky social worker stood and walked me to the door. I kept my gait calm although on the inside I was trembling. She wore a charm bracelet on her wrist and when she turned the doorknob, it jingled. The sound the metal charms made reminded me of the bracelet Jeff had given me before I'd become pregnant. That seemed like years and years ago. I remembered how much I'd loved it. It was jade with gold Chinese coins. I remembered his blue eyes watching me as I opened the box, examining my reaction. Then he spoke to me with paternal affection, as if I were his child not his lover, "You'll wear this every day and whenever you hear that lovely sound, you'll think of me."

Her long face formed a look of compassion. I could see that she and I were just the same, neither more sane than the other. I also knew she recognized the irony too. If she had been in my circumstance she'd be the one beginning the interminable wait for electric shock therapy. She'd would have been the one to hold back screams from unparalleled fear and grief. She'd have to learn to pretend to feel something she didn't, against a deluge of natural emotions and self-protective reflexes.

I smiled and nodded.

"You'll be all right. I'm looking out for you," she whispered. "I won't forget you."

When she opened the door, I expected the stout one to be there, eagerly awaiting an opportunity to continue with her schoolyard taunting. She was the easiest to ignore. She was the idiot. It was Eileen waiting outside of the room for me. I was so happy to see it was her. Pretty Eileen. She looked even rosier than usual. Her black hair was in a short wave, and her cheeks flushed.

"Eileen" I said, almost falling into her arms, as if she were Carmen.

She took my hand as the door to the boardroom closed. "How are you love? Everything's all right isn't it?"

I shrugged my shoulders. As much as I trusted Eileen, Nellie had made it very clear that I shouldn't really trust anyone. "I'm fine."

"Listen Evie, I shouldn't say it, but I heard there's been a letter about you."

Even more than the treatment I knew I'd soon have to endure, this news terrified me. My legs grew weak and gave out. I fell to the floor. Eileen helped me back up. "What happened to you Evie?"

I felt like I was falling down the rabbit hole, I was dizzy and breathless. Somehow I managed to pull myself up. I made a foolish excuse. "This shoe. Is there something wrong with the heel?" I was trembling so hard that she must have known how frightened I was she held my hand to steady me.

She laughed her carefree laugh. It was clear that there was always something else on her mind. She was in love or maybe just infatuated. "Evie dear, there's a letter and all the doctors are buzzing about it."

"Who's it from?"

"Don't know. Whoever it is, it's someone important though."

I felt my heart sink. I knew it was from Jeff Lambert. I knew it. Somehow there was something more he could do to harm me. I walked forward, a zombie, the things I had suppressed were evaporating; all of me was gone except one short film clip in my mind. A black and white newsreel with Mary, Frank and Charlie. In the thought I'm with them; we're sitting under a tree that has grown large in the back yard of my house in Bend. It doesn't matter what Eileen was saying, I was watching the movie in my head over and over. I passed hallways with women crouched as far in the corner as they could be, their hands over heads rocking. I passed others pacing in wildly irregular steps and yelling out obscenities. I saw women in straight jackets, tied to benches. Nurses, moving amongst them.

"Want a game of cards?" Eileen asked me as we entered the game room. I was able to hold the little newsreel in my thoughts and also sit down with her. Not a few moments later, I saw the debonair, confident Dr. Norse enter the room. He waltzed from table to table, sometimes sitting and talking with the patients. Eileen's green eyes followed him from place to place, and it was clear to see that there was something between them. When he finally made it back to my table, he sat down. Eileen and I were already engaged in a game of rummy.

"How are you girls?" He asked with a charming lilt in his voice, meant for Eileen I could tell. Her face grew even more flush. He lifted his hand and smoothed his hair to one side, when he brought his hand back down, I saw a wedding ring. He reminded me so much of Jeff, I wanted to warn Eileen, but anything I said might have made me look crazier or caused me more problems. As Nellie said, "keep yourself from being noticed at all." Not too nice, not too emotional.

Dr. Norse asked me if he could steal Eileen from me for a moment. I smiled and nodded as if I were none the wiser. I looked around the hall, a picture of hell. I thought of Jeff Lambert and I realized that it might have been worse if I'd done what he'd said. If I had done what he'd wanted and left Mary and Frank to move down to Eugene with him. He might have somehow done had me put away either way. He might have grown bored with me or become more violent and one day just to punish me, do just the same as he did that afternoon at my house in Bend. The letter to the doctors came back into my thoughts. What else was there for him to use against me? Every time I thought he'd gotten what he'd wanted, it seemed there was more he could take from me. Could he have known how much he'd already destroyed my life? If not for the thread of that dream, the movie reel had taken place of my reality, if not for that I'd be insane. There was no other way to make it through my time there, but to pretend. It was as though I was keeping myself just on the edge of insanity, until finally I broke loose and went crazy. I knew they would lock me in the back ward, or they'd make me a zombie with a head bandage bumping into walls, drooling and slurring incoherencies. The letter terrified me. Each event, each piece of new information was a weight on my back, I didn't know how much more I could endure before I broke.

Eileen and Dr. Norse returned to the table. Eileen was very excited and Dr. Norse was smiling paternalistically, nodding for Eileen to go ahead and tell me some news that they had between them. She stood a little too close to him and looked up at him beaming, while he looked down on her with a look of amusement as if she were the apple of his eye. She straightened her skirt and squirmed a bit. I couldn't figure out how, at one time, I thought she was like Carmen. She was nothing like her; Carmen was strong and defiant. Sarcastic. So pretty, coy but not naive or foolish. Eileen, a girl I once felt was an ally, was sweet but she was indeed foolish. It bothered me. I pictured the film reel in my mind, my dream of seeing Charlie, my garden. I kept my opinions and feelings boxed up tightly and I moved through the asylum as if I were a recovering woman; as if I were feeling much much better.

Dr. Norse's eyes caught mine. I wondered if they were going to tell me I'd be having the shock treatment. But, why would they be so pleased with themselves if that were the case?

"Go on and tell her Eileen," He placed his hand on her shoulder for a moment, then back down into his pocket.

"You have visitors!"

I looked up to Dr. Norse for confirmation. He wore a wide, affectionate smile. I could hardly contain my joy. I allowed a smile of joy and I kept my eyes on him.

"I do? Who's here?"

I could imagine it was no one but Charlie and Mary. Maybe Carmen. Maybe everyone. But Charlie. It was Charlie. I knew they were going to let me see my baby. I stood up. "Who is it Dr. Norse?"

"All right, Eve. It's all right. Calm down a bit." I felt the other part of me return, the one Nellie had trained. 'Calm down a bit.'

"Oh, you're right. When can I see my visitors?"

He had a twinkle in his eye. In my periphery I saw a bit of a frown on Eileen's face. I felt as if I were walking on a razor edge. What would I do if Dr. Norse, were in fact, like Jeff? What would my choices be then? And if I were to return his advances, which I didn't believe I would, would I be punished harshly by the nurses with Eileen leading the way. And what would be my fate when Dr. Norse grew tired of me. He certainly had made no movement to stop the shock treatments. He was one of the men in the room, in agreement about my insanity.

"Eve?" I must have been lost in thought for a moment, he laughed a little, "Silly girl. Come with me." At that he put his hand on my lower back and led me to the reception area.

The metal doors opened to a large serene room with a conservatory to one side. Wooden rockers lined the long hallway and unlike in the ward where women lay in contorted or fetal positions on hard wall-length benches moaning and shaking, the women seated in the rockers in the front of the hospital looked pleasant and content. The long hallway had wooden floors; they glistened as the light cast through high arched windows with no bars. A glass octagonal conservatory constructed of glass windows was opposite the hallway that opened to this room with long mahogany tables and beautiful bouquets of flowers. Velvet settees and upholstered chairs were tastefully arranged for accommodating visitors. It reminded me of a fancy hotel, not unlike the one Jeff and I visited in Eugene. The ladies in the rockers were patients, but well dressed and all appeared mentally competent, truly at the asylum for rest.

Dr. Norse kept his hand on my back and it caused me great embarrassment. I looked around and there to one side of the room I saw them; first I saw Mary, dressed in her nice clothes, a pressed calico dress and a Sunday hat. My heart sank and tears came to my eyes, Mary was following behind Charlie who was walking in a labored stomp, balancing himself as he navigated the small seating area. I couldn't breathe and felt an overwhelming love. I turned to Dr. Norse and Eileen and said, "there's my baby!" Both had a smile that conveyed genuine happiness for me.

"My I go see them?" I asked Dr. Norse.

He nodded.

"Eileen will stay in the room. In case—in the event that you need her or feel overwhelmed."

"How long can I spend with them?" His brown eyes contemplated. I imagined he was contemplating the value of this gift he was giving me. "How does the afternoon sound? We'll have you return for dinner."

Three hours seemed like forever. I walked not rushed over to Mary and Charlie. As I did, Tom Billings stood up from one of the couches and I felt immediately ashamed. But really, all I cared about was Charlie. When he saw me, he tried to run but fell. He was yelling "ma ma!" And he pointed to the corner in my direction at a blue rubber ball "Ma. Ma. Ball." I couldn't help it, tears fell down my face. Eileen was sitting too far to see me and I was still walking with a calm demeanor. Besides, she was reading a magazine, a title I didn't recognize. I picked up the ball as Mary rushed towards me. She was holding Charlie and she lifted him up, he reached and stretched himself for me to hold him. I nuzzled my face in his shoulder and I could feel his warmth, his heartbeat, his love.

"Ma Ma, ball" he said and smiled at me. His face was the same. I could never forget his beautiful blue eyes and light brown hair. I felt he no longer looked like Jeff. In fact, there was no Jeff in him at all. "Ma Ma, ball." I held up the ball and he held it and laughed. He threw it again on the floor.

"Gam Gam. Ball"

"Oh my word Eve, this boy is so smart, but he's tiring me out."

She walked over and had tenderness in her eyes; she gave me a long embrace. Tears filled her eyes. She pulled away and looked at me. "Oh my God Eve," she whispered. "Darling."

I cried too. "You have to help me stay calm. I so much want to cry and tell you every horrible thing. But—"

"For Charlie. Yes, I agree."

"Yes for Charlie, but also to protect myself. I have very little I can do to prove my sanity here. Please let me ask Eileen if we can walk the grounds. It looks so lovely outside. I haven't been outside in three weeks."

Mary couldn't help hold back the pity and sorrow. I saw it in her expression.

I picked up Charlie. "Let me see if we can go out and walk. I'll ask the nurse." I walked back toward Eileen and she looked up. She was still a bit of distance away. "Eileen," I said when I was close enough for her to hear, "I'd like you to meet my son, Charlie."

"Oh Evie, I would be so honored." She stood and my fondness for her was renewed. She straightened her skirt and her nurse's hat and met me; together we walked back through the beautiful room. I stopped just enough to keep her from the sitting area where my family was. It would be too embarrassing for them to hear how people there spoke to me.

"Oh Evie! He's perfect! May I hold him?"

She reached for him and he went to her easily. She stroked his hair and spoke to him in a sing-songy voice, "Hello little man. Aren't you a handsome little man!" She made a funny face and he let out a giggle.

He held up his ball and then looked at me briefly "Ma Ma." Then he looked back at Eileen.

"Yes, that's right darling. Ma Ma." Eileen lifted her head and genuinely looked impressed. "He's a smart boy."

I felt so elated and full of so much joy.

"Eileen would it be all right if we went out for a walk on the grounds and I can play with Charlie on the grass."

"Of course. I'll have to go outside too, but I'll sit on a bench and let you have your privacy." She handed Charlie back to me. "Eve, don't do anything foolish, try to run off or—"

"No, of course not."

"It will be much worse. You're doing so well."

I walked back to Mary. Tom stood up again and put the newspaper down.

"Hi Tom." I whispered.

He looked at me with sympathy but also with a distant demeanor. "Hi Eve. How are you?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Let's walk," Mary said and put an arm around me. Charlie threw the ball again and Tom walked over and picked it up.

Being in the fresh air was such a reminder of what I wanted, of what I'd had. We walked amongst the well-manicured grounds, through paths that meandered through trees. The lilac petunias were flooding out of the beds. The air was dry and hot. Even the swealtor seemed lovely after having been confined in a hospital that reeked of urine, body odor, many chemical smells. The natural sounds outside --trees, rustling birds singing and even the sound of cars that occasionally pulled into the hospital drive way—caused a sadness in me. Even after a short time the comparison between feeling free and the experience in the ward was almost unbearable. The moans and cries, the sound of feet on tile. The babbling of those unfortunate souls returning from surgery. All of it had found a permanent place in my senses. It was a soft drone that didn't go away. Pushing it aside was difficult; even being with Charlie and Mary didn't squelch it completely. It seemed to me that the melancholia that struck with Nick was killed had returned, but worse. It seemed a blackening mood was moving in quickly. It wouldn't be much longer that I could hide it. The fearful anticipation of the shock therapy was adding even more weight. I didn't know when they would initiate it but when they did, I knew from observing the others in the ward that it would be twice a week. I didn't know how long it would continue, but from what I'd seen it didn't seem like the regimen would stop. Still, visiting with Charlie was invigorating. He had me following him as he practiced waling. He would look up and point to the sky. His eyes would turn and fix on mine. He held a curious expression, his brow furrowed as if to ask, "what is it?"

I would lift him and hold him up as he pointed and reached. "That's the sky darling. Look how high up the clouds are." We would do the same with the flowers. Some of the time we sat in the grass and he pulled a few blades and gave them to me. I'd hold his pile of grass and say "thank you!" He'd come back over with a serious look and take it back. These sorts of games went on for over an hour. I knew watching him all day would be tiring. But, I longed for that sort of tired. The tedium, love and fixation on him, all an intense experience. I longed for the afternoons washing clothes or ironing after he finally fell into a deep, baby sleep with a sweaty forehead and rhythmic baby breathing. I longed for all of it.

After a time, Mary walked over and stood beside me. "Darling, Tom needs to speak with you."

I felt a pit in my stomach. "Over what I did?"

"No sweetheart. He has some news for you."

I took a deep breath and walked over to the bench and Mary resumed my place with Charlie. I felt self-conscious as I approached Tom. I looked so ugly. I knew I was pale and my hair dry and straw-like from the horrible soap they used to wash it. I'd pinned it up haphazardly, trying my best to make myself decent with so little time to fix myself up and my hands too shaky to hold a hair comb. My dress was worn and faded. Worse, I had been following Nellie's instruction, to avoid looking too pretty. Although, it seemed it wasn't working with Dr. Norse. He promised trouble for me.

"Hello Eve." Tom stood up from the bench off to one side of the lawn where I had been playing with Charlie. He waited to sit back down until I was seated.

I looked down at my hands as he spoke.

"I came to speak with you. I have some news." Our location overlooked a small pond; in the center sat stone cupid sculpture spouting water from his mouth. I turned to Tom as he handed me a copy of a newspaper, The Oregonian. He had folded, revealing an article about Oregon State Hospital. It was written by Nellie Green. The story chronicled the horror in the ward. She really had been a journalist pretending to be insane. Although there was never a moment when she seemed insane to me. Towards the end of the article, I read about myself. She had left out the infidelity and instead said it was my husband who had me involuntarily committed.

I looked up at him. "She found you?"

He nodded.

"Eve. Honestly, I left Bend after I talked with Frank and Mr. Lambert. Then, when Nellie called, she said you may not get out for a long time."

I nodded and looked down. I bit my lip to prevent myself from crying. I clenched harder.

"You have a family that cares about you."

I didn't have anything to say. It had been so long since I felt I had a real family. Even then it was too far back to really remember the safety of someone loving me in that way. Just hearing Tom say it, caused me to hold my breath and suppress the pain. I looked away, towards Mary and Charlie. It seemed unreal to have them at the hospital. To see Charlie running around on the grass and Mary chasing after him. I knew that Mary was family to me. Just her and Charlie. I had them but I didn't have faith in anyone else. Charlie was laughing his impish laugh and then looked at me. He stopped and stared at me for a long moment. He raised his hand in an awkward wave and then started towards me. Mary caught up with him and lifted him up, distracting him with raspberries on his cheek. His image lingered. In just that moment before as he stared back at me, his resemblance to Jeff was shocking.

"Eve?" Tom's voice brought me back to our conversation.

I turned to him. "I'm tired."

"Frank and I talked to a lawyer. He sent a letter asking for the circumstances of your commitment. The attorney looked into it and they didn't follow the rules."

"Who didn't? I don't understand." For some reason I felt fear rising and the desire to run. To find a place and cower, hide.

"The thing is, we got the hospital notes and the order to commit you. The attorney reviewed it. Dr. Pope doesn't have a valid medical license so they only had one doctor with a valid signature."

"He's not a doctor? But, he delivered Charlie. Certainly he's a doctor-- he knew so much about--"

"He is a doctor. He just hasn't renewed his medical license in years. So there was only Dr. Maynard."

"Oh." I whispered.

"If it makes you feel better, Dr. Norse's notes from his evaluation of you said he found no signs of insanity."

I realized I was wringing my hands. My body relaxed but in doing so I felt so much pain in my muscles. My whole body felt battered.

"Then there's Nellie's article. I don't think the hospital wants any more controversy, nor do I think Dr. Pope wants his credentials questioned. I'm a journalist, Eve, with a major magazine. The lawyer and I both told him so much. They don't want any more problems."

I felt hope welling up inside me I could hardly let myself believe it. I wouldn't let myself feel it or entertain the possibility.

"So when can I go home?"

"It's still in the hands of the court. Mary and Frank wrote a statement about your competence as did Carmen, Harry and myself."

"When can I leave?" I wanted to cry but held it in and waited for the desire to pass.

"Maybe in a week we can get you home."

I felt myself deflate again. "Will they do the treatment before then?"

"What treatment?"

"The electric shock treatments."

Tom's green eyes looked out above me, I imagined he was thinking what he could do to prevent it. He looked away for a moment, then back at me. "I honestly don't know Eve. I'll speak to the attorney. I'm sorry."

"Are you sure they will release me?"

He furrowed his brow. Ran his hand through his hair. "I just don't know."

A long moment passed. I knew it was about time to go. A breeze had picked up and it felt good. It was a break from the heat. "Thank you Tom." I said and looked at him. I suppose I wasn't really thinking about anything more with him. My sole purpose was to get home to Charlie but I wanted to ask anyway. "I wanted to..."

I could see he grew uncomfortable immediately. He looked away for a moment and turned his head. Why hadn't I met someone like him instead of Jeff Lambert? But then I had a conflicted feeling. Without Jeff there would have been no Charlie. Charlie was my life. Nothing more and nothing less.

"What is it Eve?" He clasped his hands and placed them in his lap. He turned his head sligtly and squinted a little. He took a deep breath and kept his eyes on mine.

"I'm wondering what you think of me."

"I respect you Eve. Jeff lambert was...He was..I don't have the words. I don't know why he did what he did to you" He looked down at his hands.

"Would you ever consider trying again with me?"

He shook his head before he answered. "Eve I can't un-see what I saw."

I felt tears come to my eyes, "I'm so ashamed." I looked down at my cotton dress. It was already bleached out and threadbare. The calico flowers all looked muted brown fabric when once they had been tiny roses with a yellow background. My hands were wrinkled and dry.

"Eve?"

I looked back up at him as traced the wooden grain of the wooden table. "It's all right." I said, "You don't have to say anything."

"It's not that. I respect you very much. I don't think you're immoral in anyway. Honestly." He took my hand and looked at me with such a level of compassion that I felt wounded by it some how. His words and his love seemed to be in opposition. "Eve, I've never loved a woman. But, I was starting to feel that way for you. But, Eve, I don't want to love a woman who posed for pictures like that. Or behaved the way you appeared to behave in the photographs with Mr. Lambert. I just don't. I can't erase what I saw. I think that was the reason Jeff Lambert showed those pictures to Frank and me."

"What about Frank? Does he feel this way too?"

"What I'm trying to say isn't coming out right and I know it hurts your feelings. Eve, if I didn't care about you, I wouldn't be trying so hard to get you out of here. I do care about you."

"What about Frank?" I repeated.

"Eve, he has been a mess since he did what he did. He was too ashamed to come today."

"But why? It wasn't his fault. I should have told him a long time ago. It was wrong to lie to him when I knew how he felt about his family's honor."

"He knew when he saw Jeff Lambert walk up to you and taunt you at the house that day when they brought you here."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember? Jeff walked up to you and said something softly to you like 'you're very sick--I know the hospital will help you."

"I don't remember."

"Well, you went after him and the attendants restrained you and dragged you out."

I put my head in my hands. I could feel my face going flush, embarrassed by how I must have looked.

"I wasn't there Eve. I didn't see it. But, Frank said after that he realized he'd made a mistake. He loves you and Charlie very much. And since that day he's tried to get you back."

"Well I love him too."

"What about Jeff Lambert. What if he tries again?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. He pursed his lips and let out a long breath. He shook his head.

"What is it?"

"Mary should tell you."

If felt as though the clouds had turned dark. The sky was still bright, but I was worried over what Harry might have done. What else could it have been?

The time came. Charlie was sleeping in Mary's arms as she rocked him in a metal glider chair under the shade of a large pear tree. They both looked so peaceful and it gave me enormous comfort knowing he was safe and loved. It also filled me with joy to know he remembered me and loved me. Tom stood up and walked over to Mary. I could see Eileen waving from the top of the expansive lawn that led down to where we were by the fountain and adjacent seating area. I just wanted to get into the car with them and go home. When it was time for them to leave, I was more terrified than ever. Mary gave Charlie to me. He was so much heavier, asleep in my arms.

"Mary, what happened with Jeff?"

"Darling, Harry and Carmen came up to Bend as soon as they heard what was happening. Dr. Pope wouldn't give us any information about where you were being taken. Certainly, we didn't think they'd bring you all this way. None of us knew what was going to happen to you. We were all going crazy. That night. Frank and I told Harry and Carmen the whole story."

"Everything?" I asked with a sick feeling in my stomach remembering the day Jeff barged into my home, threatened me and forced himself on me. It seemed my body couldn't forget that day. I still felt the pain of his force even though I knew there was no way it could still physically hurt me. So much more harm had come to me since then. Bruises on my face, my wrists. Being held down against my will and forced to take medication. I'd been mocked, laughed at and now I had somehow caught Dr. Norse's attention. I knew from my experiences with Jeff, that kind of attention would only lead to final damnation. Even with all of that, it was Jeff's degradation of me that killed a large part of me. When I heard Tom say he couldn't be with a woman like me or "un-see" what he saw, it made Jeff's violation public. There was no way of changing that. As we walked I felt ashamed all the more; Mary was telling me that everyone in Sellwood knew too.

"I feel so ashamed." I said. Mary stopped and lifted my chin.

"Eve. No one in Bend knows except Frank, Tom and me. Everyone thinks you were infirmed with pneumonia. We told them you went back to Portland to be with your family while you recovered. As far as Sellwood, Harry only told the boys part of it. The last part." I felt sick to my stomach. I would be shamed forever. I would never go back there.

"Why would he do that?"

"They went out and found Jeff Lambert. They beat him."

A bolt of terror ran through me. "But he'll just get revenge on me. And, I'm sure Harry is in trouble."

"Jeff Lambert ended up in the hospital."

"Is he all right?"

"Eve, he's fine but why should you care?"

"I wouldn't want anyone to be beaten Mary."

"You're such a good girl," she wrapped her arms around Charlie and me. "And just so you know. Harry's fine. Did you think any of his old friends in the police force would do anything but turn the other cheek on a man like Jeff lambert?"

"What if he comes after me? I'm afraid he'll kill me now."

"Eve. It's over. He's taken a job at the Chicago Museum of Art. He's leaving Sellwood. He's not coming back to Oregon." She looked me over and kissed me on the forehead, "and his wife's had another baby."

"Who told you that?"

"Carmen."

I started to cry. "Why would he try to force me to be with him then? If she was pregnant the whole time?"

"Let it go. Let us get you home. He was the one who was insane, Eve. He's a man who beats women."

"Can you get me out now? Please try to take me home with you." I wanted to cry and plead but I knew I was being watched. I just couldn't go back. I didn't know how I would be able to.

"No. It will take a little time."

I nodded but I felt another moment was too long.

That evening, Suzanne, the redhead came in and ordered me to get up. It was nearly eight o'clock and everyone was in bed. Lights were out at 7:30.

'What have I done?" I asked her.

"You need to get yourself cleaned up." Dr. Norse has ordered it.

"But why?"

"How am I supposed to know? Can't you do as you're told!"

I stood numbly. What did Dr. Norse have to do with me getting cleaned up? Why was he here so late? She gave me a towel as I put on the grimy cotton slippers that had been neatly placed under my bed. I felt so ugly and dirty.

I wanted to protest but I thought of the news. I didn't want to go with the nurse, but I remembered Nelly's words and how close I was to getting out.

"Are you sure it was doctor Norse?"

I was confused, but when I entered the hallway, there he was. He didn't look at me.

Suzanne didn't look at him either. Could it have been that despite her cruelty he disgusted her as much as he did me? She walked me to the room with all the bathtubs. It was dark when we first arrived. She turned on the switch and a there was an electric buzz before the lights came on fully. They blinked once and then stayed on. Dr. Norse was now leaning against the tile wall watching me. I felt faint. I prayed Suzanne wouldn't leave.

"I'll need to see how you respond to hydrotherapy." He was matter of fact. He retrieved a cigarette rete from his white coat pocket. He lit it and kept his eyes on me. I grew flush and I began to tremble. Was this it? Was this the thing that would break me down? Keep me here. When the police came for me like they had Nellie to release me, would they see me in the same condition that I was in after Jeff forced himself on me? I remembered what Nellie said, "No matter what they do. If it hurts, if it humiliates you. Don't show enjoyment, don't show resistance."

Still, I was shaking. Suzanne ran the water in the tub. I could see she had turned on only the cold.

"Do I need to get ice, doctor?"

He shook his head and took a drag. "No this is fine."

I wanted to ask what I'd done for such punishment? Why should I have to have this treatment in the middle of the night? A part of me knew as my mind returned to our walk out to the see my family. The visit. He'd had his hand on my back, my lower back as a husband might as he walked his wife through a crowd or on to a train. Would this be the barter? Suzanne removed my cotton nightdress and there I stood naked in front of Dr. Norse.

"All right, get in missy." She said. "How long doctor?"

"She's not in such a manic condition, maybe just half an hour. Have her lay flat in the tub."

The water was freezing cold and Suzanne pushed me down so the water was up to my neck. "Did you hear that? Lay down flat in the tub." She pulled up a chair and opened a book. Dr. Norse walked and stood above me watching my naked body shake. He must have stood there for five minutes.

"I'll be back in the morning to check on her." He smiled a charming smile and gave me a wink. "This will help you, Eve."

I couldn't think at all. I was so cold. Suzanne didn't look at me or ask me how I was, not that I expected her too. I kept my eyes on the tiles and tried to count the rows. Top to bottom, side to side. I tried to multiply the number of tiles. My teeth were chattering loudly. Finally, Suzanne looked up at me and shook her head. I didn't know if it was because she knew what was happening to me or she was just disgusted by my weakness. I lost count every time, but it was the thing that kept me planted in my determination to act sane. Nellie had also told me that even if I acted sane they would still treat me as if I were mad. I couldn't remember his words exacly but I thought Dr. Norse had said the cold bath was a treatment for mania.

When Suzanne lifted me out of the tub, my body was blue and numb. I looked at the tall windows. Despite the nighttime the black bars were visible through the glass. I could see a faint glow in the sky from stars rising in a slow ascent. I realized that I hadn't seen the stars or moon rise since the night that Tom and I walked through Frank's cornfields. He'd held my hand and smiled shyly while I told him my opinions on things like the news or the ladies garden club. He asked me detailed questions about the gossip. He told me that being a photographer in the war was considered prestigious and it was difficult for him to see other men leave, risk their lives with many never coming back. He said that war was living hell, unimaginable to those who have not experienced it. The moon had risen that night and it was so bright it illuminated the paths between the rows of corn. He had stopped and looked at me. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

My sleep had not been restful. I couldn't get warm no matter how much I curled my body up and pulled the covers up above my chin. I shook from the chill. It had only been half an hour in the tub and no ice. I knew some women had been kept hours in the cold then, the nurses transferred to scalding hot water. It was to calm their nerves. I knew exactly why I had been told to take a bath the night before. It was so Dr. Norse could see me in the nude. In my dreams and even as I lay awake, his brown eyes became Jeff's blue eyes. The memory had fused and if an image of the bathtub returned to me, it was followed by the feeling of Jeff watching me as he lay on top of me. I would try to shake the thoughts, but something about my freezing body kept me in a state of rapt fixation on it. The sounds returned to me. The echo of the bathroom, the running water. My naked body felt marked and bruised and I would have preferred a beating to the humiliation.

I felt I could no longer pretend to be calm. I was in a deeper grave than the melancholia I had been in Sellwood after Nick died. I had no desire to wake or get dressed for the day. I hadn't had that inclination, really, since I'd arrived three weeks before. But, that day, it was a weight on top of me. It was true darkness. Eileen entered the room first thing in the morning. She glared at me as she walked past me to rouse the other women. Two other nurses followed her into the room. I hadn't seen them before. Then Suzanne, the redhead entered the room. All three of them jerked women out of bed; those with contorted bodies jolted up and forced to sit while the nurses yanked the nightdresses off them. I turned to get up and get myself ready for the day. Suzanne rushed over to my bed. "No need for you to get dressed today."

"Why?" I whispered.

"You're having you treatment this morning."

"What treatment?"

"Just stay in bed and keep your mouth shut."

I knew I couldn't do it. It was over. I would give in to my rushing emotions. I would be a crazy person. If they wanted me to be insane, that was how I felt anyway. I had no dignity left and I was so tired of being pushed and mocked and taunted.

Eileen walked by again to put a bedpan out in the hallway for patient attendants to empty and clean.

"Eileen, "I said, "Can you tell me what's happening?"

"Ah shut up!" she said with her Irish accent. Her tone, one I had never heard from her. She had always been like a giddy, happy child. I felt the scratchy sheets below me.

"Nurse Suzanne." I called.

She rushed over and gritted her teeth. She gave me the look of an angry mother. "What is it?"

"I'd like to speak to Dr. Maynard about the treatment. There is some new information that I know he's received."

She rolled her eyes and looked at her watch. "You'll be seeing him in ten minutes. You can tell him all about it then."

Some of the women screamed and moaned while they were getting ready for their day. Most of them were thin and looked half starved. When they put their threadbare dresses on them, they hung like fabric on a skeleton. Their hair looked wiry from the soap and their shoes looked big and clunky on them as they shuffled their feet and wandered towards the doorway. Two of the nurses were in charge of escorting the patients out to the hallway. They did it by pulling at them or holding them with a tight grip on the fabric of the back of their shirts. The room grew quiet except for the sound of Eileen stripping the beds.

"Eileen," I said, "If you're angry about the water treatment last night..."

"Well I heard Dr. Norse got an eye full, all right."

"What could I do? You told me yourself to just cooperate."

She rushed over and stood next do my bed, "Did I now. Well, the way you were looking at him in the activity room gave him permission to do what he wanted. You knew what you were doing. Trying to get yourself out of here no doubt. That's not going to get you out! They're saying you're manic now. Are you satisfied?"

"How can you say this?" Just at that moment, I pictured Nellie's face looking into my eyes. I imagined her in the bed across from me. I quieted myself and turned over. Eileen continued to angrily pull sheets off the beds. Two male attendants entered the room, carrying a stretcher on wheels.

"Come on up, Mrs. Miller," one of them said. I couldn't tell if it was compassionate or not. It no longer mattered. It seemed to take nothing for them to lift me up and dump me on the stretcher.

I couldn't take the fear. I started crying. This was the moment that all my effort to pretend was lost. I didn't want them to do this to me. I was supposed to leave. They were supposed to let me go. That's what Mary had said. That's what Tom had told me/ Why weren't the police there with Mary and Frank to escort me out? Why didn't I have the opportunity to give Suzanne and Eileen the same disgusted look Nellie had given them? I couldn't hang on to her words any longer. I screamed "No!" and the attendants immediately twisted the end of the sheets and tied them around my wrists. I began kicking my legs. They twisted the bottom corners of the sheet and did the same to my legs while Eileen held me still. I was panicking and they just pushed the stretcher down the hallway with me screaming with terror. I passed the treatment room where I had been left in ice-cold water while Dr. Norse had watched me shiver. I couldn't take it. There was no way to free myself. I couldn't stop the stretcher from rolling. It pushed through two swinging doors, metal with little square windows. Once inside the lights were stark white and my stretcher was positioned just below the two brightest lights. I could see machines of some sort to one side. One looked like a short wave radio. It had buttons and a gauge on it. There was a coiled wire and then a metal piece that looked like earmuffs. Four nurses stood at my feet and legs and the two attendants were positioned at my shoulders. Why was I awake? Why wouldn't they give me the medicine they had given me when I'd first arrived?

Dr. Maynard walked to the side of me and held my restrained hand. "Eve. Are you all right? I can see you're very upset. I know you're frightened." His paternalism was all I could hold on to. I became a child and in Dr. Maynard's face was my father's. I was trusting him and I nodded like a child.

"Well this is going to help you. It has helped a lot of people with melancholia. And, in your case bouts of mania."

I nodded. I could hardly see through the tears that streamed down my eyes, "Did you receive a letter about my release? Why do we have to if I'm being released?"

In that moment, I realized I maybe they weren't going to released me at all. Maybe that was why he was able to do the procedure with me. Maybe he'd convinced them that I should stay longer. Maybe Dr. Norse said I'd done something indiscrete again. Or maybe Eileen had accused me of something.

He lifted his glasses and looked at me with glassy, old man eyes. Now that the black frames were removed I could see deep wrinkles. "Eve. You are being released. There were too many technicalities when you were brought here." He motioned for one of the attendants to flip a switch.

I couldn't take it. I was so terrified and I didn't want him to do it.

"Then why do you have to do this? If I'm leaving? Please don't'."

"Eve. You should be here. You have many mental problems, which will only progress. You'll be back here in not too long. I wouldn't be an ethical doctor if I didn't at least try a week of these treatments. That way I can have some peace of mind that you won't go home and do something awful to your son."

At that, one of the attendants pulled my head backwards and placed a wooden cylinder in my mouth. Something wet was swabbed on my temples. I felt the cool air of the treatment room and then I felt the metal ear muffs being placed over each temple. They were covered in terry cloth and were very damp as well. I watched Dr. Maynard as he looked at one of the nurses and nodded. There was a loud buzzing sound and that was all I remembered.

When I woke, I didn't know how long I'd been asleep. I felt that since Eileen was finished with me, I had no one to ask to find out what had happened. I found myself very confused as to where I was and how I got there. I had a terrible headache and my muscles ached. I saw bruises on my wrists and I had a very faint recollection of being tied down. I didn't know when that had occurred. I didn't remember much of anything else. At first, I didn't know how I came to be in the hospital and I wondered if perhaps it was during childbirth. Then, my mind returned to Charlie and the train to Eugene and I realized, put together somehow, a crude timeline of his age. It couldn't have been that something had gone wrong in childbirth. When I looked around at the women in the beds around me rousing, I realized I was in an asylum. There was a familiarity to it and yet, it was hard to understand how I'd gotten there. The women were moaning. One was curled in the corner of her bed weeping. I could see one of her wrists was loosely tied to the metal bedframe. It looked so easy to release herself that I wondered if she had tied it herself. I heard footsteps and turned to see Dr. Norse entering the room. "How do you feel today Eve?"

"You look so much like someone I know." I reached for him, but my arm felt like lead.

"Are you having a little trouble with your memory, Eve?"

"Yes. I think I am."

"Do you remember what happened yesterday? You had treatment. You slept most of the day and through the night."

"Oh. I don't remember."

"No. Well that's all right. You'll be fine. It'll take a little while for you to get back to yourself. But, not long at all."

"You really do look familiar." I said, trying to place him.

"We've spoken a number of time Eve. I'm one of the doctors here. Dr. Norse."

"No. That's not it." It was Jeff I was seeing and I knew it, but once I placed him, I had forgotten his name again.

"Are you sure you're not from Sellwood? Isn't that where I know you from?"

He took a deep breath and looked down at me. He smiled a very tender smile and took my hand. "You're still confused. You'll feel better later today. Can I get you something?"

Somehow I knew he really was Jeff. But, I wasn't afraid of him. I remembered his letter and how he'd wanted me to move to Eugene. That's why was there. To take me to Eugene.

"Have you come to take me to Eugene?" I asked as I tried to sit up.

"Lay back down, Eve."

"Are you taking me with you?"

"That would be lovely," he smiled. "I wish I could."

"I'm awfully thirsty," I said.

Dr. Norse returned with a nurse. He held a glass of water to my lips and I took a sip. I forgot what I was doing and stopped drinking but didn't motion to pull away from the glass.

"Are you finished?" he said to me as though I were a child. He nodded to the nurse and she approached me holding a syringe. Dr. Norse put the glass of water on the table, and then pulled the sleeve of my nightdress up and held it there, his eyes soothing me. I was unable to switch between his eyes and the needle so I simply focused on his gaze. He seemed so kind and then I noticed something else about his eyes. He was fooling me.

"Your eyes," it hurt my throat to speak. It was still so dry. "They aren't blue. What happened to your eyes?"

The needle must have gone into my arm and the medicine started working. That was all I remembered.

The next time I woke, there were voices above me. I felt a little more myself and when I opened my eyes, I saw a police officer in my room. Carmen and Mary were there. Carmen rushed over to me, holding a dress while Mary packed my suitcase.

"Is this new?" I asked Carmen. It was a lovely navy dress with a sailor collar.

"Of course, sweetheart. Mary made it for you. Hurry up now. We're taking you home."

Carmen turned to Mary. "Leave those clothes here. They're ruined them!" she napped and glared at Suzanne and Eileen who stood dumb founded by the doorway. Dr. Maynard was there and he had a look of sheer fury on his face.

Eileen rushed over to me, "Here you go love, here's your shoes."

"Don't touch anything of hers!" Carmen commanded the nurses. "Back away and don't speak to her."

Mary was surprisingly quiet and in no time I was up on my feet. The muscles in my arms and legs hurt, but I felt steady and my mind was clear. I still had a hard time piecing all the recent events together. I didn't remember so much of it, yet the feeling of horror persisted and an unbearable heartache was rising inside of me. I didn't have any desire to prove anything to the nurses as Nellie had. Her departure was full of contemptuous looks and intimidating gestures. I didn't have the desire or courage to do what Nellie had. Mary stood to one side of me holding my arm while Carmen took the other. "Move out of our way!" Carmen practically shouted and pushed past the two nurses.

When we entered the beautiful receiving area I saw Frank and Harry. Frank was holding Charlie. As I walked towards them Harry met me. He put his arms around me and held me for a short time. "I love you Eve," he whispered. "Jesus Christ, how did we let this happen?"

Frank then walked over to me. He handed me Charlie who was laughing at some game he and Frank had been playing. Charlie reached for Frank for a moment then seemed to realize it was me. His arms went around my neck and he began sucking his thumb and looking around at everyone. I kissed him on his head and then handed him to Mary. Frank was silent and he examined me apologetically.

"Don't you want to hold him, darling?" Mary asked. "He's missed you."

"No. You keep him with you for now. Is that all right?"

Carmen kept shaking her head. "Let's get you out of here. You're never coming back." She put her arm around me, "You'll ride with Mary and me and we'll let the boys follow us, ok? I'll sit in back with you and Charlie."

I looked at Frank again. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was for lying to him, for bringing all of this into his home. "If it's all right, I'd like to ride with you, Frank. Mary can Charlie ride with you and Carmen?" I don't know why. I didn't want Charlie.

Frank nodded and smiled awkwardly. "That'll be all right Eve."

I looked out the widow as we made our way out of the asylum grounds, down the curved roads. I watched with deep sorrow as we passed ladies doddling and shuffling through paths that implied rehabilitation, peace. Really it was a façade. Maybe the small number of women in the very front ward, those rocking impostors that lined the halls near the entrance, or those in the main reception area. No one but the patients knew what was beyond the locked, white doors. The irony of the ivory glistening walls and floors. Why wouldn't it be black; why not the hell that it was?

"I hate this damned place." Frank slapped his visor down.

"Me too." I whispered.

He let out a deep breath. The truck left Salem and we were making our way through the forests towards Bend.

"I don't know why I asked to ride with you, Frank. We never really talk. Just us. I don't even know what to say."

"We did some. We talked, Eve."

"If you want me to leave Bend, I understand. I can't lie anymore. I know there's no way to explain it all to you. I know what you think of me."

"No ya don't." He said, continuing to stare out. A light rain hit the windshield in random dots but not enough to warrant turning on the wipers. "No Eve, there's no way to explain any of it. Your behavior or mine. Mostly mine."

I was the thinnest vine about to separate from everything. I hardly had a breath or a heartbeat.

"I don't' care about the lies, Eve." He turned and looked at me then back to the road. His expression was caring. It reminded me of the times when he'd come to my house to build something for Charlie. Or when he had looked at my sketches and plans for the garden. Teased me about his future son in law. That was never really mine. At its center was a lie where nothing really could flourish.

"Eve. I've always been a kind person. Or at least I wanted to be. I won't ever forgive myself for what I did to you. You're not my child, I know that. So it wasn't my place. Even if it were..."

He was just what he was. A farmer who had worked hard to establish himself. He was the husband to a wife who was loving and kind and whose affection he returned. He was a nice man. I had never been sure why he had that one side of him that was so self-righteous and indignant. It seemed to me such a black spot on someone who was otherwise so honest and empathetic. Mary and I had known all along that once he found out that I was lying he would change completely.

"People repeat the things they swore they wouldn't. Sometimes we get so determined not to commit the same crimes that we push back so hard without seeing--" He cut himself off and looked at me. His wrinkles around his eyes were deep; it made him look sorrowful. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Eve?"

"I don't know," I said 'I'd have to think about it. Maybe I will."

"I don't want to talk about some of the things I witnessed as a child. Just as I'm sure you don't want to say what happened to you in that place. But, I saw horrors and even as a young boy, I knew it came from pure hate. People had been poisoned. I thought I knew what it meant to be respectable." He shook his head and stayed silent for a moment. He looked over at me. "I'm sorry, Eve. I don't know how to say it." He stopped talking for a bit. I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered about what he'd seen as a child. What could have been so horrible? What was he comparing my experience to? Or, was he comparing himself to someone hateful and cruel? Someone like Jeff?

We had been driving for miles and all we'd passed were trees. It seemed we would be traveling through forests until we returned to Bend. I didn't care if he spoke to me or not. I had grown comfortable in a calm, distant place. In the hospital, I'd kept a newsreel of the life I wanted back. It was running in the forefront of my thoughts. But, after it was all over, there was simply numbness. Nothing. No feelings what so ever.

"Eve, look at me for a moment."

I turned and met his glance. "Eve, I'm not saying any of this right. I am not a talker like you and Mary. You know that." He turned back to the road and shook his head. "I hate myself for what I did to you. I always will. There's no way to tell you how sorry I am."

All I could think was how I'd lied. I'd tell people I was a patriotic widow, and that Charlie was legitimate. I played the part and as I grew to know Mary and Frank I elaborated on the parts of me I knew Frank would love. The girl Frank knew would have never carried on with a married man. I wished I had really been her instead of myself.

"You're not spirited, you know that?" He turned to me again and squinted a little, "No you're not. That's what they said wasn't it?"

"Who said?"

"Eve, are you all right?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "That's what Jeff said. Yes."

"You're not. You're hard working. You're loving. What was a girl in your situation supposed to do? If anything you were brave. I want you to know I see that."

"Thank you for saying that." I felt a wave of panic. "I don't have anywhere to go anymore. I can't go to Sellwood. I can't go back to Jeff."

"Jeff? That man is never getting near you again."

"I have no where to go."

"I don't want you to go anywhere. I know you don't want to live a lie, Eve. But so what if some of your life is a lie? Mary and you and me. So we know the truth. Let people think what they want. Everyone loves you here. People have always respected and loved you."

"People will find out." I whispered.

"Nobody's going to find anything out. Besides, what are you going to do? Send out an announcement to the bridge club or to the ladies from the garden club?"

I shook my head.

"Things pass, Eve. Time just moves on and someday you'll meet someone, Charlie will be the Charlie everyone loves. He'll get older. Nobody's going to get hurt, Eve."

There was more silence and while I never liked the awkwardness that often descended in conversations between men and women, it didn't bother me that day with Frank. A silent detachment took its place. I couldn't even feel something as insignificant as the unease of a stilted conversation.

There was a moment in that car ride. Just a fleeting memory of how I had wanted him to be a father to me. Looking at him driving the old truck, his honest face and spirit, I almost felt sorrow breaking through.

"It's all right, Eve." He patted my hand. "I don't know what happened, but I know they hurt you, pretty bad. It's going to take a little while." He held my hand for a moment and gave it a squeeze. "We're going to get you better. Mary and I are going to take care of you and your little boy."

"I'm sorry I lied to you."

He turned and smiled at me, "You're like the daughter I never had. Did you know that Eve? You're my daughter."