Never Really Alone

Chapter Three

The next morning Daddy came upstairs and dismantled Miranda Jean's bed, then rearranged the furniture so it looked as if only one little girl lived there.  Sousa went through the closet and dresser and packed away all of Miranda Jean's clothes, even down to her 'Monday through Friday' underpants we'd both gotten as a joke for our last birthday.  At first it made me sad, but then I didn't care, because she wasn't gone at all.

We were together constantly.  In fact I didn't care to be with anyone but her.  No one else believed me that she was real, not Mama or Daddy or Bandy, but I think that maybe Sousa did.  One day she took me out by Miranda Jean's grave and told me that I shouldn't talk to her when other people could see me or hear me.  She told me that they wouldn't understand and the best thing was to keep my secret and hush.

Sousa came from what she called the low-country in Louisiana and although my mother and father frowned on it, she relied on kitchen charms and believed in what she called the 'old magic'.  When my mother was expecting Miranda Jean and me, the doctor made her stay in bed the last three months, because she was so weak and had gotten so large.  So my father asked around town, and finally hired Sousa to take care of her.

My father was sure she was carrying a big, strapping boy, but right after we were born, my father said, "Miss Sousa, I surely hope you ain't been making use of any of your charms and whatnot to bring more women into my house for the pure sake of driving me crazy!"

"No sir, I have not," she said, "but the day I met your Missus, the angels whispered to me and told me 'bout these two lil' girl babies.  And you can't fool me, 'cause I can see you already head over heels in love with the both of 'em.  They 'bout two peas in a pod, they sure are."  And she was right, we were always Daddy's girls.

So, I thought maybe Sousa did believe me.  Maybe she could even see Miranda Jean, or sense her and I tried to take her advice.  But trying to keep that secret was like trying to put feathers back on a goose.  I lived that Summer in my own little world with Miranda Jean as the leader.  I spent less time with my friends and more time with Miranda Jean.  A lot of it was spent in our tree house.  Bandy built it for us that summer.  It was settled high in the largest elm tree on our farm, and it had two windows with shutters that closed, a trap door and a rope ladder, and we loved it.

We kept all our treasures in the tree house.  Like the bird's nest we found with the broken eggs, and a snake skin we'd discovered by the river.  We even had a luck charm that Sousa made for us.  It smelled of chicory, lavender and jasmine, and was wrapped into a small bundle of linen tied with a silk cord.  Because Miranda Jean was a ghost, I got to wear the charm and it felt clean and safe around my neck and against my skin.  But I only got to wear it in the tree house, because if my father saw it, he would have thrown it away for sure and then lectured us about the dangers of believing in such things.

We made the most of every day we had together.  When the river was low calm enough and I had permission, we swam for hours pretending we were mermaids from the depths of the sea, coming to land to find a prince to set us free.  It was amazing to watch Miranda Jean in the water.  I could see right through her and she taunted me as much as we played.

"C'mon Sarah Jane, I'll hide here in the river and you find me."

"Okay," I would say, "But no cheating, you don't get to disappear as soon as I come too close."

"I promise," she said and off she would go.  But you just never knew with her; she would promise with her fingers crossed behind her back and do it anyway. 

Summer moved slowly to its end and the smell of peaches no longer hung in the air.  Before I knew it school was starting and Mother and I went shopping to get school clothes.  Miranda Jean and I had made a pact that we would try not to talk to each other and we tried as hard as we could.  Everything was going fine until we got to the shoe department. I wanted the plain brown Mary Jane's and Miranda Jean thought I should have the black and white saddle shoes.  I should have known this was going to be trouble, but it was so natural for me to talk to her, I guess I just forgot to be careful.  There I was having an apparent argument with the empty chair to my left about which shoes were better.

My mother's face was unforgettable.  Her eyes got wide and she actually looked a little frightened.  She grabbed my hand and said, "Sarah Jane, who are you talking to?"

This was very bad and I felt a shiver of fear all the way down my spine, so I lied, "I'm just thinking about which shoes I like best," I said.  Mother chose the Mary Jane's and paid the clerk, then gathered all our packages, grabbed my hand and hurried us out of the store.  I didn't say another word all the way home.

Later on I was helping with the dinner dishes, when Sousa wiped her hands on her long, white apron, sat down and took me onto her lap.  I remember thinking that the way she looked at me, it seemed as if she could see inside my brain, and she said, "Sarah Jane, can you still see Miranda Jean?"

Of course I could, she was standing right behind Sousa making faces, but all I said was, "Well..."

Sousa held my hands and said, "I won't tell your Mama and Papa.  But you can tell me if you want to."

"Sousa," I said.  "It's so hard trying to keep her a secret.  I don't understand why nobody else can see her.  She's as real as you and me. We talk and we play and she's not really gone at all, Sousa."

"Okay, baby girl," she said, "I believe you, but you gotta be more careful.  You can't let your mama and daddy see you talking to the air no more.  You gotta keep her a hush-hush secret, alright?"

I smiled and Sousa's deep brown eyes, like pools of dark, chocolate pudding, smiled back.  I said "I'll do my best."  Then I jumped down and Miranda Jean and I headed outdoors.

I found it easiest by staying as far from the house as I could safely go.  That way, no one could hear me or notice what I was doing.  So we spent long days hidden in the hayloft, or up in the tree house.  But it wasn't enough for Miranda Jean.

At the time it seemed like a fun idea, but looking back it was easy to see that it could only end in disaster.  One morning I woke and there was no sign of her.  I remember feeling like I was going to be sick.  I was so scared.  Where was she?  Why couldn't I see her?  Quickly I got dressed and ran downstairs.  Sousa caught me as I headed out the back door.  "What's the big hurry?" she asked.

"Let me go, Sousa!"  I cried.  "I can't see Miranda Jean anymore, I can't find her!"

"Okay," she said.  "But you can't go run off without something in your stomach, so sit down first and eat and then you can go and find her."

"But Sousa," I began.

"Baby girl, you're gonna eat, otherwise you'll make yourself sick for sure with all this jumping around."

I gave in and quickly ate half a bowl of oatmeal and drank a glass of milk.  Then I was up and out. The screen door slammed behind me as I ran about ten yards from the house and then stopped.  I held very still and then called Miranda Jean's name while wishing with all my heart that she'd hear me.

It didn't take long.  Just above the wind, below the sounds of the birds, I heard her.  "Sarah Jane, I'm up here.  Come and get me!"

Behind our house was a brittle, gnarled oak tree.  I don't know how old it was, but if Miranda Jean and I stood on each side of it and wrapped our arms around it, our fingers wouldn't touch.  My father planned to cut it down because if we had a bad storm, it might go right over onto the house.

This was the only tree on our property we had never climbed.  We'd been warned not to more than once.  It was taller than any other tree on our farm and had more than its share of turned and twisted branches.

I looked up and there she was.  Sitting on a high limb with a curve shaped perfectly to cradle a seven year old girl.

"What are you doing up there?" I asked.  "C'mon down."

"How about you come up here?"

I looked up at her.  "You know we're not supposed to climb that tree.  It's dangerous."

She looked down with a smile that shined like Christmas morning and just waited.  How could I resist?  So I proceeded to climb the tree.  Looking back, the climb turned out to be much easier than I expected.  In no time at all I was sitting on a branch directly across from her.

We spent the entire morning up in the tree pretending we were invisible, while we watched the world unfold beneath us.  There was Bandy going back and forth from the kitchen to the hen house, and about an hour later we saw Mama and Daddy climb into the Chevy and turn out onto the main road headed for town.

As the sun climbed higher into the sky we got warmer and warmer, so we decided to climb down and go inside.  Miranda Jean went down first, but for her it was a simple matter of softly leaping from branch to branch with a final gentle drop to the ground.

It wasn't quite so easy for me.  Carefully I chose each branch to stand on, looking for stability and strength.  Finally I got to the last branch and while I was hesitating,  the branch gave a sharp CRACK!  As I hit the ground, we heard a sickening snap.  We had been raised on a farm and were pretty rough and tumble; not much for crying over physical pain.  But now my eyes filled up with tears and I was clenching my teeth in an effort to hold them back.  I had hit the ground with both feet and then rolled onto my side.

My leg looked as though it had been twisted round and I tried my hardest to stand up, but it was impossible.  Miranda Jean was there, but she just wasn't solid enough to help.  The only thing I could do was to call out to Sousa, but  Saturday was ironing day and she always turned the radio on in the parlor and put the volume up so she could hear it in the kitchen.  My small, seven-year old voice was no match.

It was up to Miranda Jean.  Somehow she needed to let Sousa know that I was in trouble.  I don't know what she did when she went into the house, but after just a few minutes Sousa came running out the back door as if Satan himself was after her.  When she saw me sitting there and noticed the turn of my leg, she bent down and took me into her arms as gently and carefully as if she were picking up a new born baby, just dropped by the stork.

She carried me into the house and settled me on the sofa in the parlor.  Then she ran up to my bedroom and brought down two pillows, one for my head and one to prop my leg on.  Sousa kept telling me not to worry and she went to call the doctor.

While we waited for him to arrive, she brought me a freshly-baked oatmeal cookie and a glass of milk all laid out on a tray with one of my mother's holiday napkins.  That's when I knew for sure that my leg was broken.  We were never allowed to eat in the parlor, and Christmas and Easter were the only time we used those napkins.

Miranda Jean stood next to me telling me over and over how sorry she was about everything.  But as soon as Sousa left the room I told her she didn't have to apologize.  It wasn't her fault the branch broke, besides I had a lot of fun sitting in that tree.  I could feel the coolness of her ghostly hand slip into mine and I felt better just knowing that she was there with me.

It took Dr. Hoover about an hour to arrive.  He spoke briefly to Sousa and then came over to the sofa to look at my leg.  Very gently he lifted it and then very slightly turned it this way and that.  I didn't mean to, but a small shriek slipped from my lips.  Dr. Hoover carefully settled my leg back onto the pillow and said, "Well, young lady, it looks as if you've broken your leg.  I'll give you something so it doesn't hurt so much, but you'll have to go to the hospital for some X-rays and a cast.  I'll leave all the instructions for your Mama and Daddy with Sousa."

Then he asked Sousa for a glass of water and mixed a pink powder into it.  He handed it to me and I drank it all down.  I heard him tell Sousa to keep me quiet and still, but I could have told him not to worry.  I certainly couldn't get off the sofa and even moving my leg a little bit was painful.  Besides, the medicine I'd taken was making me very sleepy.

I awoke with a cry as my father lifted me into his arms.  "Sorry, Sarah Jane," he said, "but we've got to get you over to the hospital."  My mother picked up both pillows and then carefully arranged me in the back seat of the car.  When we got to the hospital I got to ride in a wheelchair, which was fun, but then they took me to the X-ray department.

The young man in the white coat lifted me onto a metal table with a black cushion on it and said, "Now, all I'm going to do is take a picture of the bones in your leg, so it won't hurt at all, okay?"

"Okay," I answered.

Then he took a hold of my foot and turned my leg so it was lined up straight again.  The first thing I did was scream.  "It's alright, now just calm down and hold your leg right here for just a minute while I get this x-ray."

"Ahh, I can't do this, it hurts, it hurts!"

He came back to the table and took hold of my leg again.  Just one more picture and then I'll send you over to the cast room, and they'll take good care of you.  You'll probably only have it on about eight weeks or so."  Then he told me to hold still again and stepped back to take another x-ray.

As soon as the eight weeks in a cast sank into my brain I turned to Miranda Jean and started in, "How am I going to stay in a cast for eight weeks?"

The x-ray technician said, "Pardon me, honey, I didn't hear you?"

But I wasn't really paying too much attention to him.  I was too upset about the cast.  "We won't be able to go into the barn, or up into the tree house if I have a cast on.  How are we supposed to keep you a secret if we can't hide?"  And then I noticed that the technician was staring at me.  Staring at me as if I had sparrows flying out of my ears.  'Uh-oh,' I thought, 'I better stop this right now.'  And that was the last thing I said to Miranda Jean until I knew for sure that we were really alone.

When I got home everything in the parlor was re-arranged to accommodate me and my cast.  There were extra pillows on the sofa so that I could sit with my leg elevated and my parents night-table had been placed nearby so it would be easy for me to reach things.  Sousa had taken the time to make my favorite pie, strawberry-rhubarb, and a big piece of it, alongside a glass of milk were waiting for me. 

What I didn't know, was that something besides the pie was also waiting for me.  After I got comfortable, a man I didn't know came out of the kitchen and pulled a chair up closer to the sofa.  He was older than my dad, had black hair, blue eyes like robin's eggs and a mustache.  I'd never met anyone with a mustache before and I just couldn't stop looking at it.

He looked straight at my eyes and said, "Hello Sarah Jane, my name is Dr. Rudolph, how do you do?"

"How do you do?", I said.

"Sarah Jane," he said, "tell me about Miranda Jean."

I turned some ideas over in my head and then decided not to tell him what I thought he wanted to hear.  "Miranda Jean was my twin sister.  She drowned in the river this summer."

"Is that all you can tell me about her?"

"Well, we always have fun and she's my best friend", I said.

"I see," he said.  "Sarah Jane, you said you always have fun. Why did you say it that way?  Do you know something about Miranda Jean that we don't?"

I recall thinking that by asking me that, he must know that she was real too, so I said, "She's still here, but I'm the only one who can see her or talk to her."

Dr. Rudolph looked up at my father and then down at me.  "Hmmm," he said.  "Why do you think it is that you're the only one who can see her?"

"Maybe because we're twins?"

"Sarah Jane," he said, "you know that your sister is dead.  You saw it happen.  She can't really come back from being dead, can she?  Do you think you could just be missing her so much that you're wishing she was here?"

I started to cry, large wet tears splashing onto what was left of my pie, wetting the top of the crust.  "She's here!  I can see her and talk to her.  I can hold her hand and go for walks and play with her.  She's not dead, she's still here.  It's not my fault that you can't see her!"  Dr. Rudolph got up and he and my parents went back into the kitchen together.  Except for Miranda Jean, I was alone.

******

I didn't see Dr. Rudolph again for the next two months and no one discussed his visit. I tried hard to keep Miranda Jean a secret and I thought I was succeeding. Since my leg was in a cast I couldn't go to school, so my teacher, Miss Bradley would bring me my schoolwork once a week.  Between reading and spelling, which I was good at, and arithmetic, which Miranda Jean loved, it was easy to keep up.  So before long, the eight weeks passed and I was out of the cast and back in school.

I had formed such a deep attachment to my sister during this time that I had no desire to play with any of my other classmates, so most of the time I could be found sitting at the edge of the playground whispering with Miranda Jean.  It never occurred to me that anyone might be paying attention.  I was very wrong.

Two days before my eighth birthday, I walked in from school and noticed that my mother was talking on the phone and when she saw me, she lowered her voice and got a funny look on her face.  Then she hung up the phone.  This happened again before dinner.  I didn't understand what was going on, but for some reason it scared me.

My birthday arrived and as usual Sousa and my mother had created a beautiful, white cake covered in heavenly clouds of frosting, with fluffy, pink roses around the edges.  In the center was written "Happy Birthday Sarah Jane".  Before, it had always said, "Happy Birthday Miranda & Sarah".

The looks on everyone's faces was happy, but sad too, and even at eight years old, it was easy for me to understand why. Grandpa Joe, Aunt Freda and Uncle Walter had all come for my birthday and had brought wonderful gifts.  Aunt Freda and Uncle Walter gave me a beautiful baby doll with three pretty outfits, hand-made by Aunt Freda.  Mama and Daddy gave me two storybooks, Alice Through the Looking Glass and The Wizard of Oz, and Grandpa Joe as always gave me a book of poetry by James Thurber.

"The way I see it, Sarah Jane," he said, "you may be young, but if you learn nothin' else in this life, if you have the comfort of poetry, you will at least have somethin' that no one can ever take away from you.  Happy Birthday, sugar!"

But Sousa gave me the best present of all, a photo of Miranda Jean and me that was taken about two weeks before she died, standing there out by the willow tree, in our matching sun-suits, in a polished walnut frame.

It was a wonderful birthday, but sad too.

The next morning my world fell apart.  Mama woke me early and told me to wash up and put on one of my Sunday dresses.  "After breakfast, we're going in to Dalton to Dr. Rudolph's.  Now hurry up, Sarah Jane, don't dawdle."

I got dressed and ran down the stairs.  "But Mama, I'm fine.  I don't need a doctor, I'm fine."  That's when I noticed a small suitcase by the front door.  I turned and ran for the back door, but my father caught me and picked me up.  The next thing I knew we were in the car and on the road.

The sign above the door said "Dalton Psychiatric Hospital".  I understood the words 'Dalton' and 'Hospital', but the word in the middle had me stumped.  A young woman in a white uniform answered the door.  She spoke so quietly with my father that I couldn't make out anything that they said.  Then she led us down the hall and into a small room.

"You may wait in here.  Matron will be with you shortly." The waiting room was painted green and the floors were white linoleum with flecks of colored squares and dots, it held four metal chairs with green seats and one small end table with a dirty lamp shade that gave off a dim light.

It didn't take long before another nurse entered.  "Mr. & Mrs. Foster?  I am Matron.  If you will follow me."  She smiled.  Matron was unlike anyone I had ever seen.  She was as tall as my father, her graying hair pulled back into a bun. What frightened me was that her smile only lit on her mouth, it didn't set anywhere else on her face, particularly not her eyes.  I instinctively knew I would never be able to run away from someone like her.

She showed us to Dr. Rudolph's office.  It was the same as the waiting room but different. There were bookshelves filled with books and magazines and in the corner was a small child-sized table and chairs, with a set of blocks on it. It was clear that he'd already spoken to my parents when they all nodded at one another.

"Sarah Jane," he began, "your mother and father and I think it would be a good idea if you stay with us for awhile.  It won't be for very long," he continued.  "We just want to run some tests and make sure you're healthy."

"But I'm fine. I'm not sick, really.  I'll be good.  Please take me home. Please."  I held tighter to my father's neck.  He turned his eyes to the doctor and my mother turned her face away from me. If I were to describe now how I felt back then it would be as if I were caught in the tiny chute that Bandy led the cows in to hold them still so they could be branded.

Dr. Rudolph pressed a button on his phone and as quiet as a whisper Matron came in and pulled me away from my father and out of the doctor's office.  I didn't know where she was taking me, I only knew I didn't want to go.  When Matron finally let go of my hand I managed to suck up a last sob and open my eyes to see where she had taken me.

I was in a large open room, with a linoleum floor and lots of lights.  There were eight beds in the room and she led me to the one in the corner, close to the window.  There was only one other person in the room; a boy about my age who didn't seem to notice us.  He just sat in the bed, staring straight ahead, rocking back and forth. The bed Matron took me to was all made up.  She told me to 'hurry up' and take my clothes off and get into the hospital gown that was sitting on the bed.  She said I could leave on my underpants.

"My mother has my suitcase and I know she must have put my own night-gowns in it.  I want to wear mine."

Matron pierced me with a look I would see more than once and barked, "Put on the gown."

I quickly came to the realization that Matron was the boss, so I did what I was told and then sat down on the bed.  By the time my mother and father entered the room I jumped down and ran to them so fast and hard that I nearly toppled my mother to the floor.  Daddy steadied us both and then we went back to the bed in the corner.  Matron said we could have five minutes to say good-bye because it wasn't a regular visiting day.  Then she left the room.

I looked for the suitcase but it was gone.  "Mama," I said, "where are my things?"

Her eyes filled up with tears and she said, "Oh honey, you won't need any of that stuff here.  Dr. Rudolph and the nurses will have everything you need."  Then she smiled and kissed me hard on the cheek, saying, "You won't be here for very long, Sarah Jane, I promise.  We just want you to be yourself again.  We just want you to be well."

"But I am..."

"Shhh" she said.  Then my father gave me a quick hug and told me to be good, and then they were gone.

Before they had barely left the room, another nurse pushing a wheelchair, came in and headed straight for me.  "Hello Sarah Jane, my name is Nurse Allemon and Dr. Rudolph has ordered a few tests for you this morning.  So, if you just hop into this wheelchair, we'll ride on downstairs and get it all done as quick as we can.

She wasn't like Matron at all.  She smiled with a real smile and she looked at me when she talked.  So I thought maybe she might listen to me.  "I feel fine and I'm not sick.  So why do I need to have a test?  And why do I need a wheelchair?  I can walk just fine."

She lifted me down off the bed and sat me in the wheelchair as she answered me.  "Well, first of all, if you don't ride in the chair, I'm going to get in a lot of trouble, and I'm sure you don't want me to get in trouble, do you?"

"Oh, no I don't want you to get in trouble.  I'm sorry."

"Good.  Now, as to your other questions, I'm just the nurse, Sarah Jane.  It's up to Dr. Rudolph to decide what tests he thinks needs to be done.  You look like you feel alright to me, but I'm not the doctor, he is...right?  So, let's just go get the tests done and then we'll come back here and you can read or color or do some puzzles, okay?"

So off we went down the hall to the elevator to the first floor, then left for awhile, then right down a short hall, then through double doors that said Lab.  I went from one test to another to another to another.  Like my leg when it was broken, my head was x-rayed.  Then I was taken to another place where they tied a fat rubber band around my arm, stuck a fat needle in and took blood out, about four tubes full.  At least I think it was about four tubes.  I'm not sure because I fainted.  Then I went to another place and took tests like at school, but also had to do silly things like build with blocks and do puzzles.  And all the while Miranda Jean was by my side smiling, just being there for me.

By the time I finally got back to my room the dinner trays had arrived.  Meatloaf, green beans, mashed potatoes and boiled custard.  I couldn't eat a thing.  I fell asleep with Miranda Jean's cool body wrapped close up next to mine.

The next morning before the breakfast trays arrived, Nurse Allemon was back.  "Sarah Jane", she began, "you're going to have a special treatment to make you better.  Dr. Rudolph will be there and I'll be there, so there's nothing to worry about."

"What do you mean, 'make me better'?  I'm fine."

"You can talk about that with Dr. Rudolph.  Right now I need you to hop into the wheelchair and we'll go to the treatment room.  I'm sure Dr. Rudolph is waiting for us."

I looked at Miranda Jean, she shrugged her shoulders and looked as confused as I felt.  But I got into the wheelchair and off we went.  She took me back down to the first floor, but instead of the hallway that led to the Lab, we turned right and went down another hallway, all the way to the last door on the left.  Inside there was a machine with lots of dials and knobs.  It was taller than Dr. Rudolph and it was black.  In the center of the small room was a narrow bed.

Dr. Rudolph was doing something with the dials on the machine, but when I entered, he stopped and looked up.  "Good morning Sarah Jane," he said.  "How are you today?"

I didn't answer him, I didn't even say hello.  I said, "What do you mean about making me better?",  I asked.  "I'm just fine.  There's nothing wrong with me."

"Well," he said, "let's get you settled first and then I'll explain it to you."

Nurse Allemon lifted me onto the bed and the first thing she did was to take my underpants off.  I was too shocked to say anything.  Then she attached leather straps to my wrists and my ankles.  My fear had started slowly, but now it exploded inside of me.  I felt like I was going to die.  I was cold and hot at the same time and my heart was beating so fast I thought it would jump clear out of my chest.  I looked around the room and Miranda Jean was standing in the corner, looking as frightened as I was and then as if I had imagined her, she was gone.

"Sarah Jane, we've only strapped in your arms and legs so you won't fall or hurt yourself.  Now this treatment will help you get better.  Miranda Jean isn't real," he said.  "We can help you to see that with this kind of treatment."  Then he fastened a leather strap on my head like an Indian headband, then attached it to the bed, and two sticky things with wires attached to the machine on my forehead.  "I'm going to turn on the machine for just a minute and send a tiny bit of electricity into your brain," he said.  "Then you'll feel much better."

"I feel fine," I said.  "I already do.  Let me up!"  I screamed.  "Please don't do this, please!"

Nurse Allemon stroked my hair and said, "Shh, Sarah Jane, everything will be okay, shh."  Then at a signal from the doctor, she took her hand away from my head and put a round rubber disk in my mouth and told me to bite down on it.

Then she took a step back and I remember for a brief second smelling something that reminded me of my father's shotgun; and then everything went black.