Chapter 4

Thursday morning at the Hampden Behavioral Health Center seemed like any other morning, but the staff assigned to Sharpe Hive all had new sets of instructions in their daily mail box for one of their longest kept clients, Sue Johnson.

“Starting with Thursdays wake up and in all future dealings with “Sue”, please refer to her as “Selena” (sell – E – na). We’ve found this to be her proper given name. Should another client try to correct you, just tell them that Selena is her proper name. Don’t say “real name”, proper name. Be aware to report any reactions she may have to this to her APN (Advanced Psychiatric Nurse) Phyllis Flowers.” Clients are not aware that they are under 24 hour camera sweep surveillance that is designed to protect them from each other and themselves. Each morning at 8 a.m. a gentle wake-up alarm is played in their rooms and within a few minutes health practitioners visit each client to get temperature, blood pressure and address any reported ailments. Any pills or injections are administered at the same time. Following their wake-up each is encouraged to shower and join the rest of the hive for breakfast. The particular hive Selena was in is made up of self-sufficient adults who pose no imminent danger to themselves, but all suffer mental handicaps. She is one of many there who have no real identity and were taken in by the state to protect them from themselves and the citizenry. Many of the studies on patients at Hampden became subjects of thesis’ that served to help the Mental Health community worldwide.

Nurse Practitioner Kim Tucker knocked gently on Selena’s door and opened it calling her name.

“Selena? Good Morning!, ... are we awake yet?” She said as Selena roused and began to peel back the bedclothes.

“Selena, I have your morning medications. Do you want water or juice to take them with?” Kim asked.

Selena looked confused and looked back at Kim warily as if something were suspiciously wrong, even though this was the morning regimen each and every day. She usually pointed to either the water bottle or juice box for her preference.

“What’s the matter, Selena hon, can’t make up your mind? You can have both.” Kim said, knowing that the address was befuddling her.

Selena kept a wary eye on Kim and reached for a juice box, pulling up the corner tab to form a spout. She poured it into the glass on her tray, took the 3 pills, and drank the juice. When she finished she didn’t need to be told to open her mouth and lift her tongue to show they had went down; another part of daily routine.

“Selena, we’re going to have visitors in the next few days and flu season is coming. We’re doing flu shots today. I need either your arm or your bottom. Your arm could be sore for a few days, but it’s up to you.” Kim asked knowing Selena was able to understand and make such decisions.

Selena sighed and got to her feet and turned around, pulling up her night dress to expose her bottom.

“No panties? Selena, were you a naughty girl last night?” Kim asked with a chuckle as she swabbed a small area with an alcohol prep pad and quickly gave her the injection.

Selena stood and let the gown fall and she sat back down, only giving Kim a small smile as an answer to her query.

“It’s OK, Selena hon, nothing wrong with that.” Kim said trying to draw her standard answer about masturbation after some coaching by APN Flowers.

“I like sex, but only with my husband.” She predictably said in a low almost whisper.

“Me too! My husband’s name is John, what’s your husband’s name?” Kim asked.

For the first time anyone knew of the many times she was asked this, she sat back and looked off blankly and said “It was Joe.”

Kim, knowing this was a breakthrough, stopped her ministrations and asked, “Where is Joe?”

Selena shook her head and put her face in her hands to cry. It was one of the first times she had ever shown emotions like this and Kim was afraid of saying anything wrong, wishing the Advanced Psychiatric Nurse, Philly Flowers, were there.

“There, there Hon.” Kim said giving her a little hug and hand squeeze, “After breakfast you can talk more with Philly. You take your shower and come out when you’re ready. Breakfast smells good out there and they’ll be serving soon, OK?”

Selena nodded, seeming more lucid than usual, and took the towel Kim had left for her. She walked to the shower stall with three quarter safety glass door and hung the towel on the hook. She waited for Kim to click the door shut and then dropped her nightgown off her shoulders, went behind the toilet partition and sat to relieve herself. She opened the shower door, adjusted the water, and stepped in. She was thinking of Joe and how he loved to shower with her where they could touch each other’s bodies, rub and pleasure each other. She put her face in the soft spray and then dropped her head to let it soak her hair. She saw the thick full bush of pubic hair between her legs and wished it were gone. Joe would like it that way, all smooth. She ran her fingers over her soft belly as the spray washed over her head and parted the mat of hair to find the tender slit and magic button she had just titillated the night before. She gripped the mass between her forefinger and thumb and shook it before sliding a finger under her clit and rubbing vigorously. For the first time in many years of satisfying herself, she play-acted that her Joe was actually there, eating her pussy under the shower, licking her little hiney hole after he had cleaned it with a soapy finger. “God!” She thought, “How I miss my Joe. I AM Selena, and I miss my life, my world.”

Suddenly her back hunched, her knees bent and wobbled as she half-bent to direct the spray between her legs as her fingers massaged her sex. As orgasm overtook her for a fleet moment she was with Joe, in New York or their upstate home. Life was bliss, and then moments later, she was back to the confused state where she was not quite sure what was real, horrified by what real may be. Was she dead or alive in Purgatory, or was she in Hell?

She fell back against the wall of the shower and slid down to the floor. She turned her face up to the spray of the water and cried as the reality of whatever state she was in, it was without Joe and she couldn’t comprehend why or how.

Ten minutes later she came out of her room dressed in jeans and a polo top, her wet hair combed back straight. She quietly padded to the cafeteria room where she tried to slip in unnoticed to the other few who had gathered to eat.

“Hello Sue”, “Good Morning Sue” and other greetings were heard as she acknowledged none of them with anything more than a look. The matron on duty came over with a smile and wished her a good morning as well, putting a menu in front of her.

“Selena, what would you like for breakfast?” She asked.

Before she could point to what she wanted 3 other members of the hive spoke up, almost in unison. “It’s not Selena, it’s Sue.”

The matron looked up at the group and said, “Her correct name is Selena, such a pretty name.”

The other poor souls looked amongst themselves and repeated, “Selena, Selena”.

Selena never looked up, she pointed to hot cereal and fruit, then coffee on the menu in front of her.

As was usual, other members of the hive, who spoke and wanted to be social, spoke to her as if she would engage them, but she only looked back at them as the only way to acknowledge their words. Somehow there was a love for each other shared by this exchange. Selena had seen many come and go from the hive, the latest edition being mostly intact for at least a year.

After breakfast she guzzled her cooled coffee and went to the “Living Room”, a great room where they all met and talked, played cards or read. Selena always took a recliner by the picture window and watched the cars go by on the Interstate some ways away. She would sit until the coffee did its work for her. Probably more by habit than cause and effect, but after 20 minutes she was off to her room for her morning movement. Shortly she would check the time, as always, for 11 o’clock when Philly came to visit. As the hands neared 11 she walked to the great room and watched for the door to open and Philly to walk through. It brought one of the few smiles she would muster each day.

Like clockwork the large door clicked loudly and an orderly let Philly Flowers in and Selena was happy. Philly extended her hand and Selena stood and they walked arm and arm into a private office / conference room to talk as always. Philly had The Wall Street Journal under her arm.

“Selena, I understand you got a little talkative this morning with Kim.” She said as a conversation starter.

Selena smiled and said, “I’m not Sue, I’m Selena.”

“Yes, you are! I also understand you lost your underwear in the bed again. That’s OK, it’s good to feel pleasure.” She said to prompt her standard answer.

“I like sex, but only with my husband.” She said proudly.

“Kim told me that your husband is Joe. Where is Joe?” Philly asked.

Selena’s eyes welled up with tears and she turned away from her friend and therapist. She got up to go to the door but it was locked.

“No Selena! We’re going to face some of these things now that we know who you are. Do you have any idea how long you’ve been here?” She asked as she put one firm hand on her shoulder and the other under her elbow and walked her to her chair.

Selena wiped tears from her eyes and sat looking forlorn.

“Selena, I’m your friend, you know that. Yes, I’m the doctor who comes and talks to you and tries to make you feel better, but I’m also trying to help you. I stayed with you when you had woman problems and talked you through medical tests when you were afraid and we had to leave here. I care about you, but now that I know some things about you I can help you more than you can imagine. But you have to trust me. I know you don’t trust many, but you HAVE to trust me.” Philly said as she held her hand and handed her a tissue.

As she blew her nose and wiped her eyes she looked up and finally answered Philly’s question, “3006 days here, 48 days at the big brick building, 82 days in the white room, and 9 days at the ambulance hospital. Where is he? He must be dead, he gave me up when he couldn’t carry me, and he ran away from the war. I saw him disappear with his legs all broken up and I died! I woke up in here in purgatory but it was better than the war. He said he’d find me but he lied, he never even looked. I think I killed him.” She said breaking down and blubbering crying and slipping to the floor burying her head in her hands as she crouched into a ball on her knees.

Philly let her cry it out for a few minutes and then knelt beside her and began to rub the back of her neck.

“Selena, there are so many answers to questions I have for you, but first I have to make you understand some things. Nothing is as bad as you think. You didn’t do anything to hurt Joe and neither you nor he died. How do you think we found all these things about you? I’m going to put my chair beside the sofa and I want you to come and lie down there when you’re ready to talk to me. You have to open up and I will give you answers and make you understand things. You know I always try to make you happy and I’m still going to read you the Wall Street. But Selena has to do some things for herself, like gather her wits and come and lay down so we can talk and face some things. You’re a very smart woman and I’m going to help you, but you have to help yourself first by facing up and not hiding your head. I’ll sit in the chair and wait for you.” Philly said firmly, but Selena could tell she cared deeply about her as a friend, even in her tone.