"Look who I brought to visit you," Dr. Andrea says, intruding in the room without ever even knocking. I do look. She brought Shander.
"What is this? A last ditch effort before you are accused for starving, sleep-depriving, and infringing upon the right to privacy and personal possessions?" I ask, in absolutely no mood whatsoever for Dr. something-I-can-never-repeat.
"I just thought you might want someone to talk with. Someone to connect with." I snort at her.
"Right. All the while listening in on any conversation that just might have the smallest chance of revealing personal and private information." I look Dr. Andrea right in the eyes on that one. Surely she can't think that I'm crazy when I so-obviously know what I'm talking about. I turn to Shander. "They are trying to take me. Don't let them take you. Don't let them use you to take me. And don't let them use me to take you." Shander looks at me with his pale blue eyes. He knows exactly what I mean.
"I didn't realize that bringing someone you seem to get along with would be infringing on your rights."
"So what did you do with it?" I ask, being extraordinarily blunt.
"Do with what?"
"The hat."
"What hat?" she asks, completely playing dumb. Seriously?
"MY hat. The white, suede hat with a green ribbon and red flowers. The hat you STOLE from me when I fell asleep. THAT hat." Shander's eyes go wide as I described the hat. Specifically when I said the words green and red. Dr. Andrea caught his reaction, too.
"Shander," she says, ready to play him. "What did she say that has significance to you?" Shander plays a good little insane man and doesn't respond at all.
"Andrea," I say, ignoring the word doctor altogether, "Where. Is. My. Hat?"
"I don't have it."
"Liar."
"I don't have it," she repeats again.
"Then what did you do with it?!" I say, beginning to grow manic. I said it before, and I'll say it again. I WILL go insane if I don't get that hat back.
"It never existed." My eyes grow big and wild. I know she is lying. I've held that hat, felt that hat. Goodness, I even MADE that hat!
"Dont! You DARE lie to me! Where on Earth did you put that hat!"
"It never existed. And no credible source can ever prove it did." My eyes grow even larger and hysterical.
"I swear," I say in an unbelievably low and dangerous tone that I never knew I could achieve, "I WILL find that hat. And if you did anything to destroy it, I will hold you blood-guilty for my one and only true love!" I grow louder and more manic. "That hat is the hope that he is still alive and that the evil person who took him away from me," I'm screaming now, tears streaming down my face, and whole body shaking, "did not kill him already! You taking that hat is saying he is dead and there is no chance of getting him back! You may as well have killed him!!!" Dr. Andrea just stands there like it's just another day at work. Infuriating me more. And she pulls her hand out from behind her. Fahrenheit 451, the hound, the burnings, all flash through my mind. Shander leaps out at the woman yelling something at me, pointing at the door.
I deftly run out the room, manically searching every room I can. A siren of some sort screams out. Nurses rush in from every department to Andrea's aid. Nance comes to me. One look and she knows what happened. I somehow manage to tell her to get Shander. But I never hear myself say it. I somehow manage to stay out of everyone's way, but I have no clue how I do it. And I somehow manage to get Nance and Shander to follow me, Shander shouting directions that I never hear and yet somehow I'm following them. I somehow manage to figure out that the key that has been in my pocket ever since moving to Dimmerland works for the very same portal lock that is under the Asylum And I somehow manage to get Shander and Nance to follow me in. So much, so quick. So surreal and heartbreaking. How did I ever do it? How can I face what comes next without my hat? The one that means Trea's life? Will I ever be able to go back for Koran? Should I ever even risk it? Somehow, someway, I make it to Trea's house. Trea? He isn't even alive anymore. I collapse in the geust bedroom, my living room now, and cry until it is impossible to keep crying any more. And I just lay there, letting sleep- or death, whichever comes first- take over me.
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