© Copyright 2012
All work is property of Leah Crichton, any duplication or reproduction of all or part of the work without explicit permission by the author is illegal.
Alexa stood in the doorway to the social room and looked at its occupants warmly. Jerry sat at the far corner of the room, next to his best friend, Manuel, who was a recurring patient. He didn’t live at Paper Planes full time as Jerry did, but rather was admitted intermittently when he felt his obsessive compulsive disorder was starting to control his life.
Kara, a young girl of about fifteen who, following admission for a suicide attempt was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, flopped on a couch which her legs thrown over the back and her head hanging from the seat. She was watching TV upside down.
Newman, who just like Sadie suffered from schizophrenia, was at the pool table lining up a shot. Lindy of course, wasn’t there but Alexa had been expecting it after Gabby said she spent all of her time with the new girl.
Newman saw her first. “Alexa!” he proclaimed.
Jerry stood, hurdled his seat and ran to her with arms wide open. “Lex!” His arms wrapped her up in a colossal hug. She’d have loved to hug him back but he had her arms pinned at her sides and her feet dangling a good six inches off the floor.
“Jerry,” she choked out. “Can’t. Breathe.”
He looked bashful as he set her down. “Sorry, Alexa. I missed you!”
“Missed you too, Jerry.”
Kara looked up from the show she was watching. “What's up Alexa?”
She smiled. “The sun, the sky and my spirits.”
Kara rolled her eyes. “No offense. Barf.”
“So, how have you guys been?”
The response was a jumbled mess of good, great, been better, horrible.
Alexa frowned as Gabby walked through the door. “Alexa, can I speak with you for a minute?”
“Sure, Auntie.” She turned to the group. “I'll be right back.”
“Don't be too long,” Jerry said, “I wrote you a poem.”
“I can't wait to hear it,” Alexa replied. “I'll just be a minute.”
She followed Gabby out to the hallway. Gabby turned. At home she was Auntie, but at work, she was all business. “I'm in a hurry, I have an appointment with Doctor Pearson in five minutes but I forgot to mention, we've started a new program and I'm going to need your help.”
“A new program! That sounds exciting.”
“Paper Planes has started accepting more youth volunteers.”
Ah! More people like Alexa. She beamed, thinking maybe this would award her the opportunity to meet others just like her. “Aunt Gabby, that's wonderful news.”
“Only they aren't exactly volunteers, so to speak. More like community service.” Gabby scrutinized her, waiting for a response.
Alexa gaped and blinked. “What?”
“Community service, as in people who've committed minor offenses. Rather than go to jail, they come here and work for our facility.”
Had Auntie lost her mind? She must've. She voiced her opinion. “Have you lost your mind? Seriously?”
At home, talking back like that would earn her a grounding or at the very least she'd be divested of her cell phone for a undetermined amount of time but she couldn't help it! It was wrong. “You can't let petty criminals near them,” she waved her hands to the social room.
Gabby checked her watch. “I don't have time for this discussion with you. You're a better person than to judge anyone, Alexa. Knock it off please. Do as you're told.”
“But Auntie...”
“No buts Alexa. When this boy gets here, you will treat him as you would anyone else and you'll keep your opinions to yourself.”
She grimaced. “Whatever.”
Gabby turned to walk away but twisted back around. “See Alexa, you can be seventeen.”
Sawyer maneuvered his bike into the parking lot next to a white Volkswagen bug. Paper Planes was an enormous building. A brick and mortar monstrosity. He couldn't wait to leave. Shoving his keys into the pocket of his denim, he placed his helmet under his arm and walked toward the one place he swore he'd never be.
Inside reminded him of last year when Charlie was in the hospital. He shuddered at the memory of what Sebastian had been through, what Charlie had been through and how bloody scared Devin was when it all went down. She had been manic; kicking, screaming, clawing, biting amidst all the chaos. Afterward, once the trauma died down, she was desperate for reassurance. In that moment she reminded him of someone he didn't particularly be reminded of but at the same time, something inside him clicked into place and the two of them had been inseparable ever since.
He entered the building to find an overweight and sweaty security guard sitting behind a glass wall. Maybe the judge sent him to prison after all. He approached with caution, fearful of being mistaken for a resident escapee.
“Name's Sawyer West,” he mumbled. “I'm here for community service.”
The guard said nothing but nodded and picked up the phone.
A few moments later, a woman appeared in a white jacket. No doubt an employee. Her hair was auburn and twisted in a bun. The look on her face was as tight as her hairdo. Her eyes ran up one side of him and down the other before she decided to speak. She extended and her hand in a rigid and stately gesture. “Doctor Gabby Montgomery,” she said. “And you must be Mr. West.”
Funny how she made with the formalities. “Just Sawyer,” he said.
“Right.” Her voice was short and clipped. He knew what she was thinking. It was written all over her face. That he was some fucking delinquent, some lost cause that was sent her way.
He flashed his teeth. “Right.”
She sighed like talking to him required some secret effort on her part. “You will be working with my niece, Alexa.”
He nearly asked Dr. M if her niece was crazy too but decided against it, and snapped his mouth closed.
“She volunteers here every summer,” she continued.
Well that settled it, she was crazy. Really no need to ask, was there?
“Hmmm,” he managed.
She narrowed her eyes. “This way, Sawyer.”
He followed Dr. Happy down a long and clinical hallway that had several open doors, showcasing space that looked like an odd cross between dorm rooms and hospital rooms. The closed doors scared him the most. Who knew what lurked behind them?
Gabby Montgomery's heels clicked and clacked on the sleek tile floor and that was the only thing Sawyer heard. Somehow, he'd expected the shrieks and wails of the occupants of Paper Planes yet it was strangely calm.
When they reached the end of the hallway, Gabby pointed to a door. “That is the staff break room, you can put your coat and helmet in there.” She pointed to a second door directly across from the first one. “When you're finished, go in there and find Alexa. She's expecting you.”
“Yeah,” he said, “thanks.”
“Oh and Mr. West?”
“Yeah?”
“It took a great deal of work on my part to get the medical board to agree to this program. It goes without saying that they were none too eager to permit petty criminals access to our patients. I don't ask for much, but please do not make me regret it.”
Of course she was going to mention it. “Yeah,” he said. “No regrets.”
When she walked away he headed for the break room and hung his coat, placing his helmet neatly on the floor beneath it.
Alexa took her paper towel, ran it under cold water and dabbed her forehead. The mercury was rising rapidly. It must've been a thousand degrees. She looked at Babs, who was responsible for feeding the patients of Paper Planes.
“Are you sure my aunt knows about this?”
“I'm sure,” Babs nodded. “Said she would have it fixed right up. That was two days ago.”
“I'll make sure she has it fixed,” Alexa assured her. “You shouldn't have to work like this.”
Babs took her apron and swiped at her own brow. “Oh yes honey, I do. My kids depend on me.”
Alexa gave her a warm smile. If there were anyone more dedicated than Babs, she didn't know who. She turned back to peeling potatoes amidst the heat. “We have that community service guy coming today,” she said, to make conversation.
“Yes, Liam was telling me that. Hopefully he isn't too much of a handful.”
“I'm sure he's just some punk kid,” Alexa started but the door swinging open interrupted her train of thought.
Behind it stood a boy, a man. He was tall, with dirty blonde hair dressed in denim, a plain black tee and black leather motorcycle boots. His right arm sported a colored tattoo sleeve.
“I know you're not talkin' about me, sugar.”
Oh no!
“Um...no...at least I don't think so.” Alexa squinted her eyes. “I'm sorry, you are?”
He smirked. “I'll tell you one thing, I'm not some punk kid.”
The look on his face was both cocky and arrogant. Alexa squared her shoulders. She had better things to do than fall into his trap. “I mean what is your name?”
“Sawyer,” he said. “Sawyer West.”
He was the community service guy. Alexa gulped. Maybe he wasn't going to be easy to handle after all. She grabbed an apron off of the hook and tossed it his way. “Here. Put this on. We're working in the kitchen this morning.”
His hand flew up quickly and caught it. He set it down on the counter beside him. “Do I fucking look like Emeril Live? I can do without the apron.”
Every muscle in her body tightened. Who was this foul mouthed freak? She rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. “Are you trying to be difficult?”
“I assure you, I don't have to try,” he said. “Look, I'm just here to do my time and get out but under no circumstances will you ever catch me wearing an apron. So just tell me what my job is and be done with it.”
“Your job,” Alexa practically spat her words, “is to not be infuriating and do whatever it is I tell you. One day that might be peeling potatoes,” she nodded her head to the counter where her discarded peels sat. “Or it might be cleaning the bathrooms or doing the laundry or even assisting with the patients group or social activities.”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
Nope? What kind of answer was that?
“What is wrong with you?”
“I'll peel your potatoes, I'll clean the bathrooms, fuck, I'll even spit shine the good doctor's shoes but I am not going within a hundred feet of your damned patients.”
Agh! She had known him for less than five minutes and she despised him already. That was impressive. “To be frank, Sawyer, I don't recall asking if you wanted to but rather stating that you were going to."
He crossed one boot over the other and his lips pulled into a tight smile. “That Frank, is where you're mistaken. You are what? Five foot three, maybe...” he looked her up and down, “maybe a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet with rocks in your pocket? You won't make me do anything.”
Alexa took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth to avoid lunging across the kitchen and wringing his neck. Babs cleared her throat. If she hadn't, Alexa may have forgotten she was there. “Sawyer,” she said rather diplomatically. “I'm Barbra, but you can call me Babs. What do you know about air-conditioning units?”
His entire demeanor changed. He seemed to relax, uncrossing his arms and feet standing up straight. “I know enough to know yours isn't workin' but you're in luck, I can probably fix it.”
Babs gave him a warm smile even though it was the last thing he deserved. “Right this way, I'll show you where we keep the tools and take you to the unit.”
Sawyer looked at Alexa like he wanted to stick his tongue out and walked past her, his body brushing hers as he went. She gasped, unable to control the electric current that swept through her system as they touched. He smelled like pine needles and aftershave...he smelled amazing. She shook her head refusing to permit pleasant thoughts to be associated with such a wretched person.
He stopped when they were face to face and gave her a wink. “Better luck next time, sweetheart.”
As soon as Babs and Sawyer left the kitchen, she stormed off to find Gabby.