Once it was all prepared, I assisted Frankie to the bathroom. His legs were shaky and didn't respond too well, so he accepted my support and walked slowly, keeping his head low. I'd set the water to a tepid temperature, the day was too hot to have it any warmer.
"H-hurts..."
"I know. Let me help you with this." I tugged at his t-shirt. He raised his arms and I got it off, this leaving him in only his worn off, white with green dots boxers. I knew I shouldn't stare, I didn't want to stare but my eyes disobeyed and went directly to his underpants. They were sweet and sexy at the same time, just like Frankie. I looked at his face instead, meeting a timid smile.
"Can you take these off yourself?" I asked. He didn't hear me, just kept on staring at me zombie-like.
"Frankie? Your boxers, can you take them off?" I repeated.
He brought his hands to the waistband and lowered them a little. "C-can't! M-my hands...h-hurt." he yelped.
Right at that moment, I thought I saw something inside his pants that wasn't so noticeable seconds ago. Shrugging it off I stood behind him, pulling the boxers down all the way to his legs where he kicked them off. I'd done this with my eyes closed, not wanting to find myself checking Frank's ass like a perv. When I opened them, though, Frank had turned to me completely naked and it didn't seem to make him shy. Maybe he just wasn't aware that there could be something wrong or weird about it, same as he couldn't recognize danger.
"I...I g-get in there, th-then?" he asked childishly. Betrayed by my man instincts, my eyes fell bellow his belly, confirming that I hadn't been wrong before. I quickly looked away, back to Frank's face. He evidently wasn't registering this happening in his own body, which made me feel worse. "G-gee! C-can I?"
Deep inside I knew it was normal for me to feel tempted to watch Frank. I was an adult man and he wasn't a kid even though he sometimes acted like one. What's more, he was absolutely beautiful. Nevertheless, seeing him so innocent and unaware took me to blame myself for being so weak.
"Oh, wait..." I added a little more of cold water. "Now you can."
All the time while I was bathing him he looked me right in the eyes, at least as much as his unfixed ones allowed. It wasn't until I was washing his hair, massaging it slowly, that he closed his eyes and smiled relieved, comfy. Of course, I wasn't going to wash his private parts, and he said he couldn't do it, so I told him it was okay to skip that for the day.
"G-gee?" he spoke after a while.
"Yes?"
"I...I dreamed s-something. I th-think I dreamed it, n-not sure."
"What was it, Frankie?" I made him throw his head back to rinse his hair.
"I h-had the lamp in my h-hand. Th-the one that b-broke? And...and I w-wanted to hit you!" he recalled confused. I swallowed. Had he actually dreamed of it? Had he suddenly remembered? "Th-that's how it h-happened, Gee?"
I didn't want to lie to him anymore. "Well...yes. But you hadn't been feeling well yesterday, it wasn't your fault. I know you didn't mean it and you didn't hit me anyway, so don't worry."
Tears joined the water that decorated his soft skin. "N-no...that's wrong. Wr-wrong. Wh-why I did th-that? I...I w-would never n-never hurt you G-gee, really!"
"I know, Frankie, you..."
"I...I d-don't remember, b-but he...he maybe t-told me to d-do it! Y-yes. 'C-cause sometimes...he t-tells me that n-nobody likes me and...and y-you don't like m-me either." he sniffed loudly. "Y-you do like m-me...right, G-gerard?"
When I heard him say that I couldn't stop my tears. All the same I was glad that he realised what he'd tried to do was wrong. Even if he didn't remember what he was thinking at that moment, only images as flashbacks. Even if he would probably do it again because he had no control over that. At least he knew that what had happened was bad and something he'd never do consciously. That was enough for me.
"Of course I like you! Please, don't think so much about it, I know you're a good kid." I kissed his bruised forehead softly.
He lifted his wounded hand -I'd removed the bandages once wet- and touched my lips, feeling them like a blind person would. Then he clung to my neck to bring me nearer, closed his eyes and went right for my mouth; a kiss a little more powerful and needy than the previous ones. I stayed quiet, but didn't push him away. I felt him retreat and saw a regretful expression on his face, he was unsure of whether he had acted right or wrong.
I couldn't help what I did next: I held his face and kissed him back, very delicately as if I was afraid of breaking him when really, I think it was his mind what I didn't want to damage any further. I had doubts about every thing I did, and my fear had duplicated after the night before. But I loved Frankie.
His smile was so wide that it seemed to reach his ears. "Y-you're my b-boyfriend now?" he asked. I wanted to say 'yes', I wanted to see that smile grow even bigger; hold him and kiss him again, longer and more passionately. But...there were priorities. I couldn't risk fucking things up, it was too soon. Frank's mental health was first, I needed to wait until he was medicated. And that wasn't all. If I told him we were boyfriends he would want to tell everybody. That couldn't happen.
"No, we can't be boyfriends yet. For now we are...friends that need each other too much and like to cuddle and kiss to demonstrate it. But this is a secret between us, ok?" I replied. My answer might have been silly, but I was looking for words that Frankie could understand. Something that wasn't a lie and didn't sound like a cruel 'no'.
He nodded happily and kissed my cheek. "I l-like having a s-secret with you!" he cheered.
How could this boy get so violent? While I wrapped him in a big towel, I hoped I'd never have to see him like that again.
Afterwards, I applied a creamy ointment over his cuts before bandaging his hands again; that would keep them moist so it'd hurt less. Lastly, I offered him an aspirin and a glass of water.
"N-no..." he covered his mouth with a hand.
"It's just an aspirin, for your headache and body pain..." I tried again.
"I s-said NO! N-no pills. Th-they're eww."
I didn't think it prudent to insist. "You like honey, don't you?"
"Y-yeah!" he responded. I ground the white pill with the bottom of a glass, mixed it with honey in a deep spoon and handed it to Frankie who had been observing me curious.
"Try this."
"K-kay..." he first tasted it with the tip of his tongue and shuddered. I thought that he wasn't going to accept it, but then he licked the spoon once and again until it was clean. "B-better, but s-still kinda ewww."
Frank was quiet for a couple of hours until he gradually went back to his usual self; the one who talked a lot, jumped around and played with Puppy indefatigably. He'd complain about his hands once in a while, but then something would distract him enough to make him forget. On the negative side, going back to normal also meant drawing away from reality. It wouldn't be so bad if he was always happy in his imaginary world. Sadly, it wasn't the case.
******
The phone rang while Frankie was taking a nap. I practically jumped on it when I saw it was Bob's number, desperate to finally hear some good news.
"Bob! Did the brother of the friend of your friend or whatever find out something?" I didn't bother to breathe in between words.
"Calm down, man!"
"Just tell me!"
"Sorry, no. This guy works for the police, so he tried to sneak into the office. The problem was that someone caught him and he had to make up excuses to save his ass. It wouldn't be too smart of him to try again..." he said. It wasn't my lucky week.
"Oh, no, I understand!"
"Don't get your hopes down yet, though! A friend of his who now works in another city is gonna give it a try. He'll give me a call this week and let me know if he succeeded!" he continued. More friends of the friend of a friend? This was going too far...
"Bob, I told you I didn't want more people involved!"
"And I told you that none of them will give you problems!" he asserted. I wasn't so sure, but I was too tired and sore to argue.
"Thanks anyway, call me if you know something else, ok?"
"Ok! Bye, Gerard!"
"Bye..."
I felt suffocated, overwhelmed, lost. I needed something to go right for once, I wanted to be able to relax with a sense of security. I also needed some fresh air, to escape those walls for a while and allow my brain to oxygenate. Frankie acted very eager to go out when I mentioned it, though there weren't many possibilities I could think of. We weren't in the best condition for long walks and I wanted to avoid noisy places.
I finally came up with an option that could cover more than one of my needs: we'd walk a few blocks to a near Pawn Shop, taking it easy, maybe having a soda on our way. There was no rush to get there, although I did have the urge to pawn the watch that same day. The more I waited, the more I'd doubt
"Now please stay quiet and don't get too far away from me." I told Frankie as soon as we entered the Pawn Shop. While I retrieved the watch from my bag, I saw him shuffle towards the desk.
"H-hi!" he greeted the owner. Frank was always incredibly sociable save there were too many people, that scared him.
"Hi, there!" the man attempted to shake his hand, but stopped when seeing the bandages. "Hey, what happened to your hands?"
I paid attention to Frank's answer. "I c-cut, with g-glass. A...a l-lamp broke. If...if the gn-gnomes tell you th-they threw it to the f-floor, don't b-believe them. Th-that's not true. N-no. Th-they're too small, c-can't move it! I...I d-did, but w-wasn't on purpose. P-promise." he sounded so sadly adorable.
The guy looked at me smiling kindly, his eyes showing compassion. "What did he do to cut both his hands?"
"Mess," I responded. "this little buddy makes some big messes sometimes!"
"Oh, I have I small kid, so I kid of know about it!"
After that, the shop's owner examined the watch thoroughly and made me an offer that was fairly higher than I'd expected. It crossed my mind that Frankie might have worked his magic again; I was almost convinced that he put a spell on everyone who could leave their prejudices aside. Whatever the reason, all that mattered was that I'd have the money.
"Don't worry, I'll take good care of it until you can come get it back." the man took my silence as vacillation. "I understand how hard it can be to make these kind of decisions. Family tradition, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but I need the money so...deal!"
******
That night, I talked Frankie into taking another aspirin with honey to ease his general soreness. I was tempted to give him a sedative, but I didn't want to medicate him on my own account if it wasn't strictly necessary. After I read him a fairy tale and heard him ramble incoherently for a whole hour, he finally dozed off. I tiptoed out of the bedroom and painfully plopped down on the couch phone in hand. The next step of my plan was to call my mother.
"Mom, are you busy?"
"I'm free right now but gotta go back to work in a few minutes. Is there something wrong, son?"
"No...I'm calling you because my boss was able to pay me in advance." I lied.
"Really?" she sounded incredulous.
"Yeah, Sarah knows about my situation -though she thinks Frankie's my brother, of course. So...she got some money and wanted to help me."
"Well, I guess you earned it."
"Guess so. And well, Frankie has been doing worse lately, I don't want to wait any longer to take him to a doctor."
"I know..."
"The thing is...I need to find a good specialist who can be entrusted with the truth. This person will need to know everything we can tell about Frank to be able to help him. I can't introduce myself as his relative and then say I know little to nothing about him! How would I explain that? And I'll have to give them Frank's complete name! I can pay, but I need someone who'll be discreet and won't tell anybody that I have Frank! Oh my God..."
"Calm down, Gerard! Breathe! If you shut up for a while I'll be able to think, ok?" mom interrupted my desperate monologue. She took like an hour to think, or maybe it was just a couple of minutes that felt like an hour to me.
"There isn't any psychiatrist in the hospital I work at. As you know, it's a small one. But I have many good friends here, and some work or have worked in other places. I'm sure someone must be able to help us, I'll ask them."
"Can you?"
"Of course, son."
"But please do it soon! And...don't tell your friends everything because..."
"Gerard, stop it! I'll go ask them right now. And don't worry, I won't give them any details. I'll only tell them that I need a doctor who can keep his mouth shut. It's that enough for you?"
"Yes..."
"Relax, we'll find someone! You have the money, it's not that we'll be asking for free favors!" she raised her voice on the phone, making me flinch.
"You're right, sorry. I'm just very worried about Frankie, I want to help him."
"Something else happened that you're not telling me?" she suspected. I couldn't tell her.
"No...well, last night he was too nervous and hurt himself a little. He's fine. I just...it scares me, I want him better." I gave her the mild version.
"Oh God, poor kid. Don't worry, I'll take care of this and call you when I have something, ok? They need me here now. Bye Gerard, love you!"
"Ok...bye, mom! Love you too, thanks."
I hung up the phone and thanked life for the mother I had. I would wait for things with Frank to get better and then I'd have a serious conversation with her. I hadn't treated her well those last months, I'd been an asshole and she obviously didn't deserve that. She was only worried about me. Now I understood how it felt.
I heard steps coming from behind the couch and saw Frankie appear. I could 'see' that he was holding his doggie, only that he was doing it with just his arms, as if his injured hands could actually hurt if he touched him. More importantly, he was trembling. It wasn't the normal slight tremble he'd sometimes have. No, his face gave away that he was scared, troubled.
I walked to him and grabbed his chin, gently pushing his face up. "Frankie? What's wrong, baby?"
"I...I w-woke up and...th-there were th-things whispering in the b-bedroom and I w-was alone and I was so s-scared and c-can't sleep. Th-they won't stop wh-whispering!" he related in a barely audible voice.
"What do they say?"
"D-don't know...can't un-understand but it's s-scary. P-puppy heard them t-too, see? H-he's shaking." he showed me his pet. Maybe it'd been only a bad dream?
"I guess you dreamed it. Come on, I'm ready to go to bed now so you won't be alone." I guided him. He stopped dead when we crossed the bedroom's door.
"N-no I didn't d-dream it! Th-they're still f-fucking whispering, s-stop them!" he covered his ears and started to cry. I got in the bed and patted the spot beside me.
"Come here."
Frankie lied down and hugged me so tightly that it was hard to breathe. "H-hear th-them? Y-you understand wh-what they're s-saying?" he murmured.
"No, Frankie, I can't hear anything." I answered honestly.
"Wh-why? Wh-why can't you hear th-them?"
"I don't know baby, I guess they don't want me to hear them. But I'm sure they won't hurt you."
"I d-don't wanna h-hear them!" he sobbed.
"Then I'll sing into your ear until you fall asleep so you won't hear the whispers anymore." I told him. His crying ceased and he brought his head closer to mine. With my lips almost grazing his ear, I sang.
When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained.
But darling when I hold you,
don't you know I feel the same?
'Cause nothing lasts forever
and we both know hearts can change.
And it's hard to hold a candle
in the cold November rain...
Those were the times when Frank wasn't happy in his own world, the times when I wanted to get him out of it more than ever, rescue him.
------------------
The next afternoon, when I arrived home from work, Ray told me that my mom had just called. "Ah, thanks! I'll call her back right now then. How were things today?" I hugged Frankie who was determined to kiss my mouth. I avoided it at all costs.
"Not now, Frankie." I muttered.
"K-kay." he whispered back.
"Not bad, nothing I couldn't manage. He acted a little rebellious and we had another wet chair and a broken egg, but mostly a good day compared to others." Ray commented, ignorant to mine and Frank's secret matter.
"Good to know!"
"He didn't eat much, though."
"Oh...it's ok, he had a good breakfast this morning. I'll call my mom and then try to make him eat some cookies." I said going for the phone.
"Mom! Did you find a doctor?" I threw the question as soon as she answered.
"Gerard..."
"Yeah I know, I'm calmed, now tell me."
"Ok. I don't have much time, so I'll be quick. Frank has an appointment in three days..."
"Thursday?" I interrupted.
"Yes, Gerard. At 6 p.m. This man's one of the nurses' old friend. He's both a psychiatrist and neurologist and lives near your town. She said we can trust him. I already talked to him and told him all we know about Frank so you don't have to do it in front of the boy when you go."
"Wow! Thank you, mom! What would I do without you?" I felt nervous but happy to be closer to helping Frankie.
"You'd get even more desperate, for sure! Now...write down the address just in case, though I'll try to go with you. Hurry up, I have to leave!"
"Ok, tell me." I grabbed a notebook and a pen. "Frankie, let me listen! Sorry, he was singing. Yes mom, ready now."
Before I could thank her, Frankie snatched the phone from me. "L-lemme sing her the s-song I made up!"
As I smiled at the singing boy, I felt content and hopeful. A more normal life for Frankie was on its way, I'd make that sure.
CHAPTER 17
Sometimes I give myself the creeps.
sometimes my mind plays tricks on me.
It all keeps adding up.
I think I'm cracking up...
The next three days felt like months, as it usually happens when you're desperately waiting for something. But as anxious and willing as I was to take Frankie to the psychiatrist, I was also scared. Scared of what that man would say, scared of whatever else could be wrong with Frank -because that note in his ID implied there was something else, scared of him telling me that Frankie needed to be in a specialized place. My other fear was that I had no certainty that this doctor wasn't going to denounce me. No matter what my mother said, I couldn't be so sure. I knew, however, that I had to leave all my fears aside for the moment and think about Frankie's health.
The multiple cuts on the boy's hands had begun to slowly heal and he was using them more, though he'd still complain about the pain; mostly because he refused to have them bandaged anymore. My mobility remained limited, but the soreness in my back and ass was also diminishing with the help of an awfully-smelling unguent Ray had stolen from his mother.
Ever since his violent episode, I'd been rather afraid of doing or saying something that could trigger Frank's anger. I hadn't exactly done anything to induce that behavior back then, it'd just been a very bad day; yet I'd try to be cautious, just in case. He hadn't reached such a level of aggression again, but had been remarkably nervous and edgy. His tics where very frequent and he wasn't very communicative, having more conversations with his imaginary friends than with us. He found it hard to stay quiet and couldn't concentrate long enough to do anything. Then he had periods when he'd go motionless and nearly completely unresponsive.
Regardless of this, both Ray and I managed him well and things hadn't gotten out of control. We'd basically let him do whatever he pleased as long as it wasn't dangerous; interacting with him only when he allowed us or it was necessary, and otherwise just watching him closely.
Frank's sleep pattern was totally altered too. He'd sleep more during the day -for shorts periods of time- than at night. He'd rarely eat real food and had been mostly living off snacks and sweets that we'd give him during his few coherent moments. If he didn't get help soon his overall health would be affected.
******
That afternoon, I arrived home to find Frankie watching TV sitting on my mother's lap. Or more like blindly staring at it.
"Hello, sonny!" mom greeted me. "I made it here earlier than I'd thought so I told Ray to go home, he looked tired. How was your day?"
"Poor Ray..." I thought aloud. "My day...it was ok, I've been a little distracted thinking about today, you know?"
"It's gonna be ok." she assured me.
"Hey...no 'hi' for me? My mom's lap's too comfy?" I joked kissing Frank's head. He smiled sleepily, keeping his eyes on the screen.
"Poor angel isn't exactly 'on earth', are you baby?" my mother touched his cheek. He shuddered and observed her confusedly. "Ray said he was restless for hours until he ran out of energy. I brought him here with me because I couldn't stand leaving him on the floor looking so lost..."
"Uh...t-two...two ch-chairs and...and a g-goat there." Frank mumbled.
"Yes, I saw them. But Gerard's here, aren't you going to say hello to him?"
"Oh...y-yeah." he said with a little voice and lifted his eyes. They looked clouded, not by anything tangible but the reflection of what was happening inside of his head. "H-hi, Gee."
I knelt down and he embraced me loosely, resting his head on my shoulder. "Hi, Frankie! You're gonna be better soon." I whispered.
A little more than an hour later, we were ready to leave. I'd made Frankie wear a pair of blue jeans that didn't fit me, since he didn't have many clothes of his own. They looked pretty well and not even too tight on him. As top he chose his Jack Skellington t-shirt, which was the only one that seemed new and evidently his favorite. He completed his attire with his sole pair of red fake-Converse sneakers. I'd certainly have to buy him more shoes, mine were too big for him
He had become more alert as soon as he heard that we'd be going out. His happy smile didn't falter when I told him that we were taking him to the doctor, which made me think that he'd either not understood or been okay with it.
******
Due to the intense traffic at that hour -when most people left their jobs and hurried to get home- we arrived to the doctor's office just in time.
"He's Frank Iero, we're here for an appointment with Doctor Goldberg." I told the girl who opened the door.
"N-no! Frankie!" he tugged at my sleeve.
"Please to meet you, Frankie." she smiled ruffling his hair. Everybody was tempted to. "Very well! Follow that corridor to the last door, you can sit there to wait. I think the doctor will be free in only a couple of minutes, anyway."
The three of us headed there; my mother holding Frank's hand and I following behind me. The place was surprisingly nice, with walls painted pale yellow and a lot of pictures with childish colored motifs hanging from them. The bright colors instantly attracted Frank, though I could guess by the way he tilted his head and squinted that he couldn't distinguish much in them. When we were reaching the indicated door, it opened to make way for a red haired woman, who detained her steps to put something inside of her purse. As my mom walked past her, Frank reached up for the woman's chest, seemingly grabbing something out of it.
"Frankie! Don't bother the lady!" I moved him away from her.
"B-but...she had a b-butterfly on her sh-shirt!" he peeped inside of his hands that formed a sort of cocoon.
My mom turned to see what had happened. "Oh! Sorry, I wasn't watching him." she apologized.
"Nah, don't worry, I understand. He's schizophrenic, isn't he?" the other asked. I nodded, watching Frank near his hands to my mom's eyes so she could spy the imaginary insect he'd trapped. "So is my son, you can say I'm used to it. I came for a prescription. But...this kid's so young...must be even harder for someone his age."
"He's 18, though he looks younger." I commented.
"Really? Well, that's still too young. From what I've learned, this illness usually develops later. My son's 35 and only started to show symptoms five years ago." she continued. I had no idea of that and it made me feel even worse for my poor Frank.
"Frankie has been ill since he was a little kid."
"Oh God, life can be cruel sometimes." she gave out a sad sigh, looking at Frank compassionately.
"Son...I'm going out with Frankie so he can let the butterfly free." my mother informed me.
"Ok, but come back quickly. We'll be called in at any moment now." I advised her, smiling as I saw Frank walk slowly while he concentrated on not letting his hands separate.
"Will do."
"You seem to be very patient people," the woman patted my back, getting ready to leave. "that's the most important thing they need. Good luck."
"Thanks, same for you."
******
Doctor Goldberg appeared at the door. He was somewhat tall, with thick grayish hair and gentle green eyes. If I was to speak about first impressions, it had been a good one.
"Frank Iero?" his voice was soft and perfectly matched the way he looked.
"Uh...he went to..."
"F-frankie!" he came back just in time to correct the man.
"I'm Mark. You can come in, Frankie." Goldberg invited him with a warm smile. Frank stepped back doubtfully and shook his head.
"I...I d-don't want to..."
"Baby, you need to see the doctor, it's going to be fine." my mother encouraged him.
"N-no. No d-doctor, no."
"Listen, do you want to get rid of the voice inside your head and all the mess you sometimes have in there?" Mark questioned Frank. The boy scratched his head compulsively.
"Y-yeah...guess. D-dunno." was his ambiguous answer.
"I promise I won't do anything bad. Nothing will hurt, I'm sure you've had this all done to you before."
"B-but sometimes...they g-gave me shots and th-that hurt. I d-don't want shots." Frankie murmured, clearly not feeling at ease with those memories. I glanced at the doctor, worried.
"I'm not going to give you any shot."
"P-promise? I'll s-send all the l-little people to attack you if y-you do..."
"I promise, I don't want to be attacked." Goldberg laughed.
We all got into the room. It was painted the same color as the corridor, but instead of the pictures you could see several posters with different cuts of the human brain. On a corner, over a small table, there was also a plastic replica of a brain. At the opposite corner, a machine connected to a monitor and surrounded by many other elements I had no idea the names of. Close to that and against the farthest wall, a steel stretcher with a thin mattress covered by white sheets. To the right, a desk with three chairs.
As expected, Frankie ran to the replica and picked it up, grimacing as his harmed fingers made contact with it. He was like those little children who couldn't keep their hands off every thing they saw. Objects of many colors were his soft spot, and that was the case of this plastic brain: one color for each lobe.
"Frankie, leave that where it was, kid." mom said to him gently.
"He can have it for a while, it's not breakable." the doctor stated.
"N-no it's not like th-that. Sh-shut up! L-leave me alone. N-no...wrong. S-see? F-fuck you, you kn-know nothing." Frank had taken seat on the floor and was arguing with his inner voice.
"Frankie, what's wrong?" Mark sat next to him.
"H-he knows n-nothing. S-says I c-can't dis...dis...d-disassem..." he grunted, smacking his head.
"Disassemble?" Goldberg helped him. I assumed that he referred to the replica, which pieces could be taken out.
"Y-yeah, that! H-he says I c-can't do that with m-my brain."
"Well, he's right, you can't."
"Y-yes I can! I'm g-gonna dis...d-dis...that my brain and k-kick him out of th-there!" Frank assured. I held his hand to stop him from hurting himself.
"You don't need to do that. Let me help you and we'll get rid of him, ok?" Goldberg smiled.
"K-kay."
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