Rubén Sebastián Muñiz | ∞

DING DONG.

 

An electronic doorbell identical to the one from the gas station and tennis courts sounded off, waking up Margot from her surprisingly peaceful slumber in her hospital bed. 

 

The room was almost exactly as she had last been in before the Captain snapped her fingers – neat, tidy, but without a surveillance camera.

 

A kind, sweet voice echoed across the hospital floor through an antiquated public address system:

 

“Good morning, everyone! Please be ready for vitals, meds, and breakfast in 15 minutes.”

 

Margot was as tired as she was accustomed to these kinds of rude awakenings. She yawned, stretched, and sat up on her bed, trying to figure out what was a dream, what was real, and what just happened to her life.

 

She sighed and closed her eyes. 

 

She immediately was back at the tennis courts, baseball bat in hand, hesitantly approaching the entrance into the women’s locker room.

 

Wait a second, she thought to herself.

 

Her eyes opened.

 

She closed them again. Nothing happened.

 

“What the hell…” 

 

Margot had never pulled herself out of a dream, nightmare, vision, or anything else of the sort like that before. She tried closing her eyes again to see if it was just luck.

 

BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM.

 

Margot’s meditation sesh was derailed by an authoritative knock on the door. A nurse walked in – a young, tall, black woman with a caesar style close cropped haircut. Her hair was a bold, dark red color that nearly matched her reddish-purple eyes. She wore monochrome maroon scrubs and long acrylic nails in varied shades of red and purple.

 

“Good morning, Margot! Time for your meds and vitals!” she said, peeking her head into Margot’s room, now clear of any blood or debris from the night before.

 

Margot sighed and closed her eyes again, lamenting over all the times in her life that a nurse woke her up for meds and vitals since the day after prom in 2018.

 

She instantly began re-living every single time that a nurse had done this – with detail so immersive it was indistinguishable from real life. 

 

She caught herself again and willfully ended this lightning quick trip down the rabbit hole. By the time she opened her eyes not more than half a second had passed by.

 

“You okay, babe?” the nurse asked.

 

“Uh,” Margot wasn’t okay. “yeah-I’m-fine-I-uhh, just. . . . where am I now? The hospital, right?”

 

“Yes,” the nurse replied.

 

“Do you know which hospital you’re in?”

 

Margot shook her head.

 

“Do you know what state or city you’re in?”

 

“No, but I got uh.. picked up in Jinn City in New Jers -”

 

“Ohh nevermind, so you’re part of the program, then,” said the nurse, matter of factly. “They’ll fill you in after breakfast.

 

Margot slowly nodded.

 

“For now I’ll need you to come with me,” said the nurse, with a hand outstretched toward Margot with a sealed, clear plastic bag containing what looked like a gym uniform.

 

“I’ll give you a few minutes to put these on,” the nurse said, backing out slowly into the hallway.

 

Margot put on the rather unflattering get up – a plain, dark blue crew neck sweatshirt, matching sweatpants, a unisex pair of white underwear and a tank top underneath, and socks with grip on the bottom.

 

She opened the door to find the nurse waiting outside.

 

“Follow me,” she said.

 

They walked around down a very different looking hallway from the one the night before. It looked as if her hospital room was copied and pasted into a mansion.

 

“So, where am I, again?” Margot asked, feeling even more disoriented.

 

“The Newport Institute. Northern Virginia,” said the nurse.

 

“Is this a cult?“ Margot asked, not entirely sarcastically.

 

Margot saw three other young women wearing the same uniform, with a nametag sticker on each of their sweatshirts.

 

“So I guess everyone does wear the same thing, huh?”

 

“Yeah, all the patients do, anyway. We refer to y’all as the blues and -”

 

“I thought this was yet another psych hospital, though?”

 

“It is a psychiatric hospital, yes, not a cult, and the doctors are the greys,” the nurse explained.

 

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to call people going through depression and other shit the blues?”

 

The nurse laughed heartily.

 

“I don’t make the rules, baby. And we nurses are the reds, but the doctor will explain a bit more about all of that,” the nurse said.

 

“So what’s your name? Dark Red?” she asked the nurse, dressed from head to toe in all red and purple.

 

“It’s Maroon, actually.” She pointed to her nametag – it read ‘Maroon’ in handwritten cursive, ending with a little heart, all in red marker.

 

Margot nodded slowly. Nothing surprised her much at this point.

 

“What’s the program?” Margot asked.

 

“A question for your doctor,” Maroon quickly replied as they made it down the long, brightly lit hallway into a small doctor’s office.

 

Maroon checked Margot’s vitals. Margot just sat there on the patient bed/chair thing, exhausted and flabbergasted.

 

“Here she is, Margot, meet Dr. Baptiste.” 

 

“Nice to meet you, Margot,” the Captain was at the threshold of the room in a light grey doctor’s coat, right hand outstretched, smiling from ear to ear.

 

Margot immediately went into flight or fight response mode, but this time things went a little differently. Her breathing was far more regulated, far quicker than their last encounter.

 

“You look familiar,” Margot said with a furrowed brow, doing a way better job of managing her mind’s internal fireworks.

 

Dr. Baptiste laughed hard and loud, “I get that a lot for some reason! I look forward to working with you, Margot.”

 

“Alright take care, babe!” Maroon said as she rolled her cart down the hall, back toward the long, bright hallway.

 

Dr. Baptiste closed the door.

 

“So how are you feeling today, Margot?”

 

“Confused as hell.” 

 

“Great! Well let me tell you all about the program,” Dr. Baptiste began, “You’ve been admitted involuntarily to the female inpatient wing of the Northport Institute – we are a mental health hospital for young people who identify as women or girls. We have groups and community meals – breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks. Snacks are optional, groups and meals are not. We expect you, as a patient, to work with us as best you can and to get along as best you can with the other patients and staff. How you progress here is entirely depending on you. Now, the program is very specific to Northport, and will have some rather unique – “

 

“Cut the shit, Captain,” Margot interrupted.

 

Dr. Baptiste cleared her throat. A small earthquake shook the room for a few seconds.

 

“As I was saying, Margot,” Dr. Baptiste continued, “We have some unique goals and skills we learn here within our program, but a fundamental aspect of our program is mutual respect.”

 

Margot decided to play the game back.

 

“My apologies, Doctor.”

 

Dr. Baptiste smiled back. “No worries. Now your first group begins in about 15 minutes. Here is the schedule,” she blinked long, once.

 

Margot instinctively blinked as well. She saw a color coded chart that covered all days of the week in her mind’s eye. 

 

“Did you get it?” Dr. Baptiste asked.

 

Margot felt her face contorting. Her cheeks pulled backward against her will. She found herself in the midst of a quick surge or euphoria. She was just smiling.

 

“I…. did, yup. Received!” 

 

“Excellent! Your first lesson is to review the back of the schedule, sign it, and send it back to me, in the same way.”

 

Margot closed her eyes and imagined herself turning over the back of the schedule as if it were an astral peace of paper. She imagined herself reading through a behavioral agreement contract on the back, signing it with a pen and ‘sent’ it back to Dr. Baptiste.  

 

“Beautiful!” Dr. Baptiste replied. “You’re a natural, er, at . . . reading and signing things.”

 

“Thanks?” Margot kind of asked, but with a half grin still showing, no matter how hard she tried to hold it back.

 

“I’ll check in with you after lunch. Enjoy your first day!”

 

Margot left the doctor’s office and found her way back to her room. She spent the next twenty minutes in bed just staring at the ceiling.

 

The analog clocks around the hospital showed that it was about 8:55 am when that same sweet, motherly voice chimed in again on the loudspeakers, like a school from the 1950s:

 

“Hello everyone! Just a reminder, groups are starting shortly at 9 o’clock. We’ll see you there!”

 

Yikes, Margot thought to herself.

 

She closed her eyes and thought of her schedule – next up was ‘Movement’ in the Crystal Room at 9am, whatever that means.

 

Margot got up sluggishly and walked toward the nurse’s station.

 

“Hi, Maroon,” Margot said with the enthusiasm of a dying houseplant.

 

“Hey, baby! What’s going on? Oh, the Crystal Room is two rights and a left, you can’t miss it.” Maroon said, answering what would have been Margot’s next question.

 

“How’d you know what I was gonna say?” Maroon being able to read minds was not on Margot’s bingo card, although it really should have been at this point.

 

“I-memorized-the-schedule,” Maroon quickly retorted. 

 

“Okay. Thanks,” Margot answered, still in zombie mode.

 

She made two rights and a left down the labyrinth of classy, senior living center-looking hallways lined with photos of what Northern Virginia looked like from yesteryear and random motivational posters.

 

The Crystal Room was literally just the gym – a double basketball court with about twenty or so other young women in blue uniforms sprawled out across the cavernous hardwood floored facility. Skylights lit the gym with rectangles of refracted sunlight. The pyramidal design of each skylight gave way to spectacular shapes of light that dotted the gym floor.

 

“Hey! What’s your name?”

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“Hey! Is this your first day?”

 

“What’s your name, sis? I’m Pauline!”

 

“Hey girl! Welcome!”

 

“You’re really pretty! No shade! I’m Melina.”

 

Margot didn’t hear a single voice, but was welcomed by a slew of voices in her mind – they were coming from the other young women in blue gym uniforms and name tags.

 

For the first time ever, she thought to everyone – “Uh…hi. I’m Margot.”

 

“Hi Margot!!” an enthusiastic chorus of thoughts resounded in her mind, accompanied with smiles from the other members of the program.

 

Margot began to say out loud “So what;s the deal with this place – “

 

“Shhh!” a collective hush came from the small crowd.

 

“We talk like this here, we don’t want the others to hear us,” Melina responded.

 

“We all have it in common. The program is a level deeper here. We can be private here if we chat like this, so these asshole orderlies can’t hear us,” Pauline thought, pointing with her eyes to the two burly men hovering in the far corners of the gym. 

 

“So like,” Margot was still trying to get the hang of telepathy as she began to say, “Is this some underground training lab? Is this really a hospital or is this just a farce?” 

 

“It’s a bit of both, baby,” Maroon chimed in mentally, as she and Dr. Baptiste walked into the Crystal Room, doors shutting behind them.

 

Margot laughed out loud for the first time in a very long time. 

 

“I knew it,” Margot tellie’d to Maroon. Maroon winked at her in response.

 

“Alright, good morning everyone!” Dr. Baptiste bellowed out loud. “This is movement class – let’s check in and get started.”

 

Each of the blues shared their name, pronouns, how they were feeling, and their favorite Pokemon. Margot chose Gengar. They all warmly welcomed Margot with their regular voices as well when it was her turn to share.

 

Dr. Baptiste addressed them the old fashioned way again:

 

“Alright, folks! Movement is your time to do whatever you like, as you know, unless it’s your first day, like our new friend, Margot. We can play games, dance, sports, karaoke, anything you like – the only thing required is socialization, so you must do something to interact with your fellow blues. You have until 10 a.m. Enjoy!”

 

“Volleyball?” Melina and Pauline thought to Margot at the same time.

 

“Sure!” Margot thought back, beaming.

 

Most of the young women flocked to the volleyball net setup toward the far end of the gym. A few others played basketball. A handful of them started choreographing a short kind of dance you would otherwise see on Tik Tok.

 

Looking around, Margot could see a sixth sense within each activity. The volleyball and basketball players were practicing discreet telekinesis with the balls used. The dancers were taking turns sharing command of each other’s bodies, disguising it as a synchronized dance.

 

Margot got to know Melina and Pauline a bit more and they were right up her alley. Pauline slit her abusive boyfriends’ throat with a ‘gravity defying knife’ to end up at Northport. Melina got long COVID after a vacation to the Bahamas, and started ‘sleep murdering’ shortly after landing back in the States. Margot finally felt like was in good company.

 

Margot got to know more of the blues at lunch and during art therapy. Her first day at Northport flew by.

 

In the early evening she was passing by the nurse’s station when Maroon had called her over. 

 

“You have a visitor in the cafeteria, babe. And he is cute,” said Maroon.

 

“Uh. . . okay? I’m not expecting anyone.” Margot said, feeling uneasy.

 

“Just go in and see, he was cleared by security,” Maroon affirmed. “Not everyone gets young handsome men as visitors out here, child!” she added.

 

“Ooh kay then,” Margot replied.

 

She walked into the cafeteria, where visits were happening between the blues and their loved ones. 

 

She gasped when she saw her visitor. It was Jackson. He was casually sitting there, smiling, holding a Wendy’s to-go bag. He was not afflicted by a single bruise or abrasion from when Margot ended his life with a baseball bat to the head a few days ago.

 

“Yo bro… you look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Jackson said.

 

(to be continued) . . .