Pennhurst

Chapter 2: Escape

I tried to distract myself from Jeff, by any means possible, because I knew if the orderlies even thought I might escape, they would send me to the closed unit. I had to keep this under wraps. But I couldn't help thinking; how did Jeff end up in here? He seemed so cool and collected, like the popular guys in my old school. What could he have done to end up here of all places? I had tried to get Jeff out of my mind, to focus on more important things; like escape, but thinking about that always lead back to him. So as I stare up onto the ceiling, lying on my back, I compose a list of things not to do the next day.

Do not stare at potential escape weapons.

Do not make orderlies mad. Especially the one with the scar.

If something goes wrong. Don't. Panic.

The same routine followed this morning. They lead me to the common room, down from hall 83B. As I sat there, in the sad, lonely little common room filled with people that won't stop staring at me, I begin to rethink my plan. I mean, ok, I escape this place, then what? I'll go to my family. Of course. Then again, they haven't called since I got here. But I'm their daughter, they wouldn't just send me away again, right? As these thoughts drift through my mind, I snap out of it. We can worry about that after we escape, I think. For now, though, I would just have to wait. Wait. Wait. Sounds easy, right? Full bladder. Thirsty. Hungry. Cold. Aching muscles. Bored. I'm supposed to wait here until Jeff comes and I'm already so wound up I'll probably just punch him when he gets here.

After waiting out the dreadful hour in the common room, the head orderly, the one with the scar, tells us it's time to move out to the rec room. Yes. Finally, the wait is up, I can finally see him now. Never have I longed for the moment to see another human being than I have right now, for Jeff. I walk obediently in the line, and although my head is down and my shoulders hunched, excitement flows through my veins. I settle down into the cracked plastic chair, facing Millard once again. I see his mouth moving, but I'm not registering the words. I'm too busy looking for you-know-who. Not here. It's been an hour now, and I start to panic. What if the orderlies found out? About our plans for escape?

"Vera?" says Millard, snapping me back to reality.

"Uh, sorry," I stammer, "What were you saying?" He gives me a quizzical look, but brushes it off.

"I was saying, Dr Howard would like to speak with you," Oh my god, I knew it. He knows. He knows about me and Jeff and-

"-for orientation." he finishes, and I let out a sigh. Oh, of course. Orientation.

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I've never seen a villain's lair, but I'm pretty sure Dr Howard's office fits the bill. Gloomy medieval tapestries hang menacingly on the walls. The room is so cold, and the only heat source is a musty wood-fireplace. Wisps of silver grey smoke curl and dance their way through the room, before returning to the embers.

"My apologies, I did not mean to be late." I jumped. In the doorway, stood the one and only, Dr Kenneth Howard. He had come in so quietly I didn't even realize he was there.

"Please, sit." he motions to a red leather armchair. We sat there for a full minute, him just staring at me and me just trying to keep my cool. Anyone that knows me knows that trick doesn't work for long.

"Listen," I say, "Millard told me you wanted to show me around the place, but I'm pretty familiar with the nut house, so I think I'm going to go now.," I rise to leave.

"Vera," he says. Normally this would have meant nothing to me. Just a word. A name. But the way he said it, as if it meant something to him, made me sit back down.