It's Kind of a Funny Story

When Becca and J/C are gone and I’m still sitting shell-shocked at the table, another sign appears at the window, this one inching up from below as if hoisted by spider threads:

DON’T WORRY. HE/SHE/IT GETS EVERYBODY, WELCOME TO SIX NORTH!

When I go out to find her, she isn’t there. I ask the nurse wrapping up her dispensing duties if I need any meds, and she says I’m not scheduled for any. I ask her if I can have some. She asks what I need them for. I tell her, to deal with this crazy place. She says if they had pills for that, they wouldn’t need places like this in the first place, would they?

twenty-four

“So what’s it like?” Mom asks, holding a tote bag of toiletries, with Dad and Sarah next to her. We’re at the end of the right H leg, me in one chair facing the three of them. Visiting hours are from 12 to 8 on Saturday.

Sarah doesn’t let me answer.

“It’s like One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest!” she says, excited. She’s dressed up in jeans and a fake suede jacket for Six North. “I mean, all these people look like . . . serious crazies!”

“Shhh,” I tell her. “Jimmy’s right there.” Jimmy is behind her at the window, sitting with his arms crossed as usual, out of his shirt and into a clean navy robe.

“Who’s Jimmy?” Mom asks eagerly.

“The guy I came in with downstairs. I think he’s schizophrenic.”

“Doesn’t that mean he has two personalities?” Sarah asks, turning. “Like, he’s not just Jimmy; he’s also Molly or something.”

“No, you’d be surprised, that’s a different one,” I raise my eyebrows. “Jimmy’s just a little . . . scattered.”

Jimmy sees me looking at him and smiles. “I tell you, you play those numbers, it’ll come to ya!” he chirps.

“I think he’s talking about Lotto numbers,” I explain. “I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

“Oh my gosh.” My sister covers her face.

“No, Sarah, don’t do that, watch,” Mom says. She turns around. “Thank you very much, Jimmy.”

“I tell you: it the truth!”

“I like this place,” Mom turns back. “I think it’s full of good people.”

“I really like it.” Dad leans in. “When can I join?” But when no one laughs, he leans back, clasps his hands, sighs.

“Is that a transvestite?” Sarah asks. J/C is down the hall, like forty feet away, and I don’t know for the life of me how Sarah suspects something out there that I couldn’t see at point-blank range.

“No, now listen—”

“Is it?” Dad squints.

“Guys!”

“Trans-vestite!” Jimmy shrieks. He does it at top range—I haven’t heard him that loud before. The entire hall, which admittedly is just me, my family, J/C, and the older professor-type woman with the glasses, stops and stares.

“I tell you once, it’ll come: it come to ya!”

J/C starts walking toward us. “Are we talking about me?” he asks in his guy voice. He waves at Jimmy. “Hey, Jimmy.” He comes right up between me and my sister. “Craig, your name is, right?”

“Yeah,” I mumble.

“Wow, is this your family?”

“Yeah.” I tip my palm at each of them—it’s at the level of the frills on his pants. “My dad”—he juts his lip out—“my mom”—she nods, all smiles—“and my sister, Sarah”—she reaches out a hand.

“Oh my God, so lovely!” J/C says. “I’m Charles.” He shakes with everyone. “They’re going to take really good care of your son here. He’s a good guy.”

“How about you; what are you in for?” Dad asks. I kick him. Doesn’t he know what not to ask?

“It’s okay, Craig!” J/C touches my shoulder. “My gosh, did you just kick your dad? I never even did that.” He addresses Dad: “I have bipolar, sir, and I had an episode, and they brought me here. I’m going back upstate today. But the doctors are very attentive here, and the turnaround time is great.”

“Wonderful,” Mom says.

“Of course”—J/C gestures to us—“it’s a lot better when you have family support. They want to make sure they discharge you into a safe environment. I don’t have that.” He shakes his head. “Craig, you’re very lucky.”

I look at them: my safe environment. I frankly wouldn’t be surprised to find any of them in Six North.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to your afternoon,” J/C says. He walks away slowly.

Jimmy makes an indecipherable high-pitched whining noise.

“That’s applause, isn’t it?” Dad asks, throwing a thumb behind him. “I like that.”

“Those are awesome pants,” Sarah says.

“Okay, so let’s get down to business, Craig,” Mom is like. “What do you need?”

“I need a phone card. I need you guys to take my phone and leave it plugged in so the calls register. I need some clothes, like what you were bringing before, Mom. I don’t need towels; they have those. Magazines would be good. And a pencil and paper, that would rock.”

“Simple enough. What kind of magazines?”

“Science magazines! He loves those,” Dad says.

“He might not be up for science magazines right now,” Mom answers. “Do you want anything lighter?”

“Do you want Star?” Sarah asks.

“Sarah, why would I want Star?”