Caleb

Chapter 3

Home is where the heart is, or so they say. I have to be locked up in my bedroom at all hours of the day, by strict orders of my parents. My father works full time and my mother part time, so when they’re out I can’t get out of my room. At least they are kind enough to leave me some food and water.

I feel as if I’m a pet locked in a cage. My room is practically bare; they’ve taken the word ‘caution’ to a whole new level. I have a bed, a mattress and a pillow. No pillow case, no duvet. Instead, I have a small blanket that just about fits over my body. In addition to this, I have a small chest of drawers made of oak that has clothes and stuff in it. Other than that, nothing. If I need to pee I have a plastic bottle, and a pot for other things.

Dr Palmer has been coming around once a day, just as he promised. My parents have even trusted him enough to give him a key so that he can let himself in. How could they trust him so easily? For all they knew, he could be a rapist, murderer, anything. I’d tried to reason with them, but they wouldn’t listen to me. They think that he’s their last hope of curing me.

He would be here soon. I didn’t have a watch to tell the time but I had become accustomed to my routine. It was my routine that was keeping me going. If I always had something to do, I wouldn’t think about the boredom.

The front door of the house opened. I could hear it from my room as the rest of the house was silent. The creaking of the stairs as he ascended, then the opening of the lock on my door and he was here, again.

“Hello, Caleb. How are you today?”

“Fine.”

“Good. Good. We’re going to do something different today, you and I.”

Something different? What did he mean? Well, at least we wouldn’t have to talk about me again, I conceded. I was becoming sick of talking him through every aspect of my life.

“What would that be?” I asked.

“I’m taking you outside; into the big bad world you detest so much. Get dressed, properly. I’ll be waiting outside.”

He left the room. How was I supposed to get properly dressed with my limited wardrobe choice? I was wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt. That’s all I ever seemed to wear recently. I rifled through the drawers, trying to find something suitable to go out in public in. Underneath all my plain clothes, my mother had left a black and red striped shirt. I remembered buying it a couple of years ago. Pulling it over my head, I was surprised to see that it still fitted.

I left the room, and Mr Palmer didn’t comment, so I guessed that my choice of attire was appropriate.

“Follow me,” he said. It felt strange to be out of the room. Although I was immersing myself in familiar territory, it had been so long since I’d been free. Free to make a decision, free to wander around at my leisure. If this was therapy, I was starting to like it.

I’d always liked the world surrounding me. Nature, wildlife and the countryside. It was the people in it that I didn’t understand.

Down the stairs we went, and out of the front door. I stared at the sky like it was the first time I had seen it, my mouth gaping open. The light blue, mixed with the fluffy white cumulus clouds. One was shaped like a poodle, which made me giggle.

“Come on, Caleb. We have plenty time for that later, but we must get going.”

“Get going where?” I asked.

“Why, the museum, of course. Where else?”

How old did he think I was? I hadn’t been to the museum of Natural History since I was five. Why would I want to go there now?