"Well, even though the diagnosis is clear, I'd like to converse with Frankie alone for a while, and also do some tests. Mostly because there might exist, as the ID implied, other problems besides schizophrenia."
"How bad can it be?" I got alarmed.
"Gerard...let him do his job first." my mother tried to calm me.
"I can't say yet. But from the information your mother gave me about the kid, I gathered that some symptoms are increased, and others might not even be due to the main problem. What's more, schizophrenia cases among young children are not so common, so I want to be extra careful about it. I prefer not to tell you anything more until I check him."
"Ok, then." I agreed, unsure. "Frankie...we're gonna leave you here with the doctor for a while, ok? It's gonna be alright, I promise. Donna and I will be outside."
"N-NO! D-don't want you to l-leave!" he got up and hugged me.
"Just for a little while, sweetheart, If you're a good boy it'll be even quicker. Just do everything the doctor says and answer all he asks. We'll be waiting for you and go for an ice cream afterwards." my mother rubbed his back to comfort him.
"K-kay. B-but I want th-the ice cream."
"You'll have it." I added.
We left the room and waited outside. During all the time I didn't even speak to my mother. I couldn't stop thinking, fearing. What if the doctor said Frankie couldn't stay with me? I didn't want to lose him, I couldn't be without him. He had given sense to my formerly meaningless life. He was my reason to keep going. He was my company, my angel...my love?
Those last days we had randomly kissed several times while being alone. Always short kisses, pecks; yet they'd make me feel all warm and funny inside and I could see it was the same for Frankie. The way he'd grin and shudder, how he'd get goosebumps or slightly blush. He was so cute and innocent.
How would things be from then on? How much would he change with the medication? I was about to find out and I had to admit that it scared me.
While Frankie was inside, we could hear him scream 'no!' a couple of times, but things had gone quiet pretty soon. My mother said I shouldn't worry, that he was with a professional who knew how to deal with people like Frank. Yet I wished I could be there with him.
"You can come in now." Goldberg opened the door for us. Frankie was sitting on the stretcher, touching his hair and frowning.
"How are you, Frankie?" I asked.
"H-hair's sticky...eww. W-we fed P-puppy?" he changed the subject rapidly.
"Yes we did, don't worry."
"His hair is sticky because of the substance I used to fix the electrodes to his head. I did an electroencephalogram." the doctor explained. "It'll go away with water, Frankie, trust me."
"Want me to take him outside so you can talk?" mom offered.
"Yes, I think it's better for the moment." the psychiatrist assented.
Once they left, he sat down and indicated me to do the same. I was too nervous to utter a simple word so I waited for him to speak.
"First of all...since we're alone now, is there anything else you think I should know about Frank's behavior?" he interrogated me. Just when I was waiting for answers, he gave me questions. I thought for an instant.
"Well yes, there's something my mother doesn't know. Three days ago Frank had a very violent episode, that's how he hurt his hands, I guess you saw them." I started.
"Yes, he told me something about it when I asked, but said he can't remember much." Mark nodded and waited for me to continue. I told him everything that had happened and he wrote things down on a notebook. He didn't interrupt me, all he said meanwhile was 'aha'.
"Ok," he spoke when I finished my report. "I must tell you that most patients with this level of schizophrenia are hospitalized. They require constant care and attention. It can be complicated, time consuming, and -as you witnessed- also dangerous. Even under medication they can be hard to deal with and might have episodes. The possibilities are reduced, but it can still happen. However, it's your decision. Are you sure you feel prepared to have him at home?"
"I'm sure. I was able to do it so far, it can't get worse from now on..." I replied without any doubt. Even though he'd made me panic, I would not give Frank away. "What about the...extra problems? What could they be?"
"I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I think Frank might have some kind of brain damage." he simply responded. I hated how doctors found everything completely normal and would forget what those kind of news could cause in people who were medically-ignorant like me.
"What? How...?"
"It could have been caused by either a serious illness when he was younger, or head trauma. Having a part of the brain not fully functional forces the rest of it to work harder to make up for the failure. That stress could have made his schizophrenia develop earlier than it would have otherwise. It also maximizes the symptoms since his brain is weaker." he explicated. My head was about to go on overload.
"But...will the medication work the same? Well, from what Frankie says it used to, he was better with it..." I rambled.
"It'll work. I can't tell you how much because each patient is different. Sometimes several medications must be tried on some people to find the better one. But he will do at least better with it. However, if my presumptions are correct, some symptoms that usually disappear -not all of them do- might persist."
"Oh..." I babbled, not knowing what to say. Then I suddenly remembered something. "Now that I think about it, I saw a scar on his head while brushing his hair. I didn't think it important at the moment."
"Oh, let's call him then so I can see it."
******
"Wh-what you d-doing to my h-hair? L-leave it!" Frank protested as I fought his wild mane to access his scalp.
"I won't do anything to your pretty hair, relax! Here it is." I showed the doctor the largish scar on the left side of his head, towards the back. Hair was missing around it.
"Yes, it could be it. It's a very old scar, he probably got it when he was a baby or not more than a couple of years old." he meditated for some seconds after examining it. "I'll give you the prescription so he can start taking the medication, but I'd like you to bring him again for a brain scan. That way we'd know what to expect. Talk to my assistant before leaving to get an appointment."
"Ok. Do you think the stuttering has something to do with that lesion?" I inquired.
"It's very possible, the scar's around that area of the brain."
"Wh-what stut-tering?" Frankie questioned. We'd never talked about it. He didn't seem to have a problem with it and it wouldn't stop him from talking a lot when he was in the mood.
"The...little problem you have when you speak? That you get like...kinda stuck in some words, you know?" I put it as simple as I could. He looked down, saddened.
"I...I s-speak too badly? K-kids there never b-bothered me 'bout it. N-nope. 'C-cause there was an-another kid who spoke l-lot weirder."
"No, you don't speak badly. You do pretty good, actually. Everybody can understand you and that's enough, so you don't have to worry about that." Goldberg told him kindly, making him smile.
"Frankie...come here and show me that plastic brain, so Gerard can keep on talking to the doc." mom called him from the other side of the room. Frank appeared to like the idea. He took the replica again and began to 'explain' things to my mother. I was too curious to know what he was saying, trying to strain my ears to hear, but I finally turned to the doctor.
"Sorry, tell me."
"Ok, here's the prescription, and in this paper I wrote down the instructions. Since he's been many weeks without medication we'll start with a lower dose and then gradually increase it. This third paper contains all the potential side effects. Antipsychotics are strong drugs, even more so for someone this young, and some of those effects can be rather irksome. One that is almost always present is the shaking, specially on the hands. Something else could be administered to alleviate that, but your mother explained your economic situation. It can wait for now."
"You sure it can wait? I...I feel bad for Frank, but I really can't..."
"Yes, don't worry. I deduced that Frank has never had help with that, so he's used to it. Then...he might also get dizzy at moments. It's better if you carefully read this, that way you won't get scared if any other thing happens -which I'm not saying it will. Any doubts?" he obviously noticed my terrified face.
"No...can I call you if I have any after reading all that?"
"Of course. Now let's talk about some things to have in mind while dealing with Frankie."
"Ok..."
"Never fight or argue in front of him, he needs a serene environment. That's usually one of the weak points about institutions, but it's easier to achieve at home. Integrate him to daily activities whenever possible if he feels like it. Let him help even if he doesn't do things correctly, thank him and congratulate him for it. Never criticize what he does wrong. Patients with his pathology have trouble to concentrate, and Frank in particular might have extra difficulty to comprehend some directions, but it's just a matter of patience. He'll eventually learn by watching and repetition." he listed. I was going to say something, but he went on. "About the pills, he should start tonight. We'll divide the dose in two intakes per day for now. From the start you'll notice him calmer, and most probably the nervous tics and continuous eye movement will diminish or even stop. The hallucinations or hearing of voices will take days to go off and in many cases they don't completely disappear. As I said earlier, each patient is different. Other symptoms as apathy or lack of emotion -which your mother told me occurs sometimes- and disorganized speech will presumably continue. Same with the inability to grasp the meaning of danger and recognize it, which has a different origin. It'll always be necessary to keep him watched."
"Understood." I nodded. I could now hear Frank talking to my mother about gnomes and bugs. "It'll be enough if Frankie can at least acknowledge reality a little more. He's been out of it most of the time lately..." I trailed off with sadness.
"He will, you'll see that you'll be able to have coherent conversations with him more easily. His case is severe, that's why he's so lost after near a month unmedicated."
"Alright...is that all?" I asked timidly. He laughed.
"It is. We'll talk again after the brain scan, ok? And you can call me if there's any problem."
"Ok, thanks." I shook Goldberg's hand. "Frankie, we can go home now."
"N-not home...i-ice cream! Sh-she said!" he pointed at my mother who was grinning.
"Oh, it's true! Frankie has a very good memory, no doubt about it!"
"He behaved very well, I say he deserves an ice cream." Goldberg did what everybody was bound to do: ruffled Frank's hair. "Bye kid, see you soon. It wasn't that bad, was it?"
"Uh...n-no but h-hair's sticky!" he complained once again.
"Oh...Gerard, here you have the number of an oculist for Frankie. It would help a lot if he could see better and was able to read. I know this specialist and will talk to him to make you a discount. What you're doing for this boy is admirable, you could use some help."
"Thank you very much." I couldn't believe there were still so many good people in this world.
Finally, we headed for the front desk to pay the assistant. Having taken into consideration that the medication was expensive, the doctor only charged us for theelectroencephalogram and not for his services, making the amount a lot smaller. We left with an appointment for Frank's brain scan set in four days.
At the pharmacy we found out just how expensive the medication was. I could only hope that the money I had left would suffice to pay for the scan and do something about Frank's sight. I knew my mother and Ray would help me with the basic needs, they'd insisted on it.
After that, I drove us downtown for the promised ice cream. My mom held Frankie by the hand and I decided to take his other, not caring about what people could think of our strange trio. Frank looked at me smiling widely and started to skip while singing.
Do you have the time
to listen to me whine,
about nothing and everything
all at once...
Chapter 18 - TEH STRAWBERRY CHAPTER!
Let me take you down,
'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields.
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hung about.
Strawberry Fields forever.
My mother and I entered the house and went straight to the sink. Our hands that had held Frankie's on our way back were covered in ice cream. Frank's t-shirt was also stained with it and smelled like strawberries. He'd gotten distracted all the time, contemplating the nightly town lights and the cars passing by. We needed to keep on reminding him that he had a cone in his hand and was supposed to lick from it. Half of the ice cream had ended up melting, running along his flexed arm and over his clothes.
"Frankie, do you wanna wash your hands?" I asked, not wanting him to feel obliged. He was still standing near the door, whispering to himself. I grazed his arm. "Frankie?"
"Wh-what?"
"Don't you wanna wash your hands?" I repeated.
"Y-yeah...they're s-sticky. H-hair's sticky t-too..." he touched his head.
"Oh, kid...your hair's gonna be even more sticky if you run your sticky hands through it!" my mom laughed.
"Yes, maybe you should go take shower instead?" I suggested.
"K-kay." Frank answered, indifferent. I imagined he must be tired. He was used to being at home and only around Ray, my mother and me. Getting to know different people and places was an interesting experience for him, although somewhat stressing at the same time. The visit to the doctor could have also brought back some memories, bad and good. It was hard to discern some feelings in Frankie, but I was sure he missed the place where he'd lived for so many years, even if he had never said it or cried about it. He had to miss his friends, or that woman that would take care of him; maybe even the doctors.
******
Once Frank was clean and out of the bathroom, I took conscience that the moment to give him his meds had arrived. The problem was that I didn't know how to do that. When I met Frankie, he'd talked to me about the pills and how much he needed them. He had, in fact, asked me to buy them for him. Later on, however, he'd stated that he wouldn't take any pills, and had even refused to have an aspirin in the normal way. What would I do if he didn't agree to take his medication? I wouldn't dare force him every single time like Ray and I had done some nights ago to give him the sedatives, I didn't like that idea at all. In my stupid state of nervousness I'd forgotten to consult the doctor about it, and calling him so soon was unwise; it'd make me sound useless.
My mother had left a while ago because she was late for work, so I found myself alone with the boy trying to think of something. One possibility was to try the honey trick again, though I doubted Frank would go along with it this time. Another was to just ask him, which sounded absurd yet fairer.
He was watching cartoons, eyes glued to the screen, when I approached him. A huge, blue t-shirt on together with black boxers that were also too big for him.
"Frankie...you need to begin to take your meds, baby. It's only half a pill for now, would you have it with a glass of juice?" I tried. The schedule said I should give him one half that night and two halves the following day in two intakes; then the same with two thirds to finally keep it at two whole pills per day if everything went alright.
"N-no! No I d-don't want to! C-can't! N-NO!" he cried out. I took a deep breath.
"Want me to mix it with honey like I did with the aspirin?"
"N-no...want no p-pill, S-STOP IT!" he screamed, moving to the other side of the couch and hiding his face. I needed to be patient, I couldn't lose it, this was only the beginning. I sat close to him without making contact.
"Baby, I know you don't like pills, no one likes them. But you need them, you know you need them. Didn't you feel better at the institution?" I spoke as gently as possible, doing my best to hide my anxiety. He turned to me with a puzzled look.
"I...I d-don't know..."
"Did you hear that voice in your head when you were there?" I asked. He meditated his answer.
"N-no...or...or m-maybe just a few t-times. A-almost never."
"See? That's because you used to take your pills there, they make him go away. You want him to go away, don't you?"
"Y-yeah! He...he b-bothers me. I...I d-don't like what he s-says."
"Then you need to be a good boy and take your pills. It will also make your head feel clearer, it won't be such a mess like you say it is now. Will you?" I insisted. He hugged his knees and rocked back and forth for a while.
"K-kay but I don't l-like them. N-not even with h-honey. N-no." he frowned. I sighed in frustration.
"You once told me that you knew the pills were white. If you saw them, that means they didn't hide them in anything when giving them to you." I remembered our first talk.
"Th-they were wh-white, yes."
"Ok, but how do you know?"
"Th-the assholes g-grabbed me and...and p-put them in my m-mouth. An-and...once I s-spit-ted it. W-was white. Th-then he got an-angry and gave me a sh-shot. H-hate shots." he related, giving me chills. Knowing that, made me regret having forced him that night. He didn't seem to remember Ray and I doing that, though, otherwise he would have said something about it.
"They would force you to take the pills? That's how it always was?"
"N-no...only wh-when I didn't w-want the candies."
"Oh, then they'd give you the pills in candy?"
"Y-yeah. Ch-chew-able candy. B-but sometimes they on-only had l-lemon and...and I don't l-like lemon. N-no. H-hate lemon." he shook his head. That was it?
"Well, we have chewable candy. Strawberry are your favorites, right?"
"Y-yes."
"Will you take the pill if I put it in one of those?" I caressed his face.
"K-kay. Y-you're so an-annoying, Gee! A l-lot, he s-says too."
Laughing, I went to the kitchen and took a strawberry candy out of the can. Before unwrapping it, I rubbed it in between my hands to melt it a little and make it softer. Then I cut a pill in two and one of the halves into even smaller pieces. I pressed the candy to them, collecting them all, and finally made a ball out of it. I went back to the living room and gave the pink ball to Frankie. He examined it.
"L-looks the s-same."
"Same as the ones they'd give you?"
"Y-yeah." he put it in his mouth hesitatingly.
"Don't chew it too much. That's enough, swallow it and drink this." I handed him a glass of orange juice.
"D-done. See?" he opened his mouth big for me to look, moving his tongue up, down and to the sides. He had evidently been taught to do that to prove that he'd swallowed the pills.
"Good! I'm so proud of you, Frankie!" I hugged him tightly.
He smiled, his face so close to mine. I gave him a short kiss and he gave me one back, giggling. I placed my hand on the back of his head, massaging, fingers getting lost in his long locks. My mouth neared his in slow motion this time. I saw him close his eyes, still smiling. I closed mine and kissed him again, with more passion than ever, pouring my feelings into it and also my fears. What if once medicated Frank didn't feel the same for me? What if he was just confused after all? Maybe I was being selfish, but I needed to seize the moment. I needed to do what I felt without thinking of what might happen later.
Frankie carried on smiling against my lips, trying to follow me though he had clearly no experience. I didn't mind, it was perfect to me. I stopped only to stare at him, he appeared to be shining.
"W-wow! L-like in movies!" he whispered.
"Yes, like in movies. You know I love you a lot, don't you?" I pecked at his smooth cheek.
"Y-yes I do and I l-love you too. L-lots." he nodded, then suddenly seemed far away. "L-look!"
"What...?"
"Th-the gnomes are d-dancing! N-no, there! O-over the sh-shelf!" he laughed.
It wasn't the perfect ending for our most romantic moment, but the poor teen hadn't done it on purpose. Hopefully, I would soon not have to pretend to be seeing what he saw anymore, or at least not so often.
I made myself more comfortable on the couch and Frankie climbed to my lap. "I think I won't cook tonight, we can call for pizza later. Now I'm gonna stay here with you watching the gnomes dance." I circled his waist with my arms.
"Th-they do it w-well, d-don't they? Oh! P-puppy came to s-see them, too!"
An hour passed by and Frankie had fallen asleep. I called the pizzeria and then just stayed there watching him. He seemed to be more relaxed than usual, his expression was calmer and he wasn't continuously moving. The bell rang, but he didn't wake up. He would normally do it right away, startled. I carefully moved him from my lap to the couch to go get the pizza.
"Baby...pizza's here." I called him, caressing his hand. He murmured something and changed his position. "Frankie come on, you have to eat."
"Uh?" he turned to me, though his hair was covering his face.
"Food's here, wake up." I tucked it behind his ears. He looked at me and smiled faintly, his head thrown back against the backrest. His eyes were quiet, completely crossed.
"K-kay."
"How do you feel?" I asked. I was still afraid of how he'd react to the medication, since we had no idea of which one he used to have before.
"F-fine, little s-sleepy." he rubbed his eyes.
"Sure you're ok?"
"Y-yeah. I...I'm h-hungry too. L-like pizza."
"Good then, come to the kitchen and we'll eat." I offered him my hand. Frank kept his eyes on me, yawned, but didn't move; too comfortable and slightly sedated out of tiredness and being back to the pills after many weeks.
"You know what? We'll eat on this little table. Let me go for the glasses and juice." I decided.
He nodded drowsily.
When I came back and arranged everything over the coffee table, Frankie sat up to get closer to it. He blinked and got visibly pale.
"Oops..."
"Are you ok?" I made him lean back again.
"Y-yeah, I think. R-room was s-spinning. F-fine now." he told me, the colors returning to his cheeks.
"It's ok, that's normal. Now sit up slowly...that's it, take it easy."
Besides his pupils not being in constant movement anymore, the other difference I could notice while watching him eat, was that the nervous tic of his head was practically imperceptible. I knew it'd take some time to see more changes, and we wouldn't know how much we could expect until finding out how serious the damage in his brain was.
******
Not long after we'd finished our meal, when our tired bodies were demanding us to put an end to the day, the phone rang. It wasn't too often that someone called at that hour. I went from irritated to worried in a matter of seconds, impatience replacing both feelings when I knew it who it was.
"Bob! What's up? Got something?" I shot.
"Sorry for calling so late, I had to work extra hours today and..."
"It doesn't matter, it's not that late. Tell me."
"Woah...'hello' would have been more appropriate, don't you think?" he faked annoyance.
" Hello, Bob. What news do you have?"
"That's better! Anyway, I'm sorry to tell you I have no news."
"No news?"
"No, sorry. This guy did try, but said he couldn't get access to the information. They blocked the computers or something, only the bosses know the passwords."
"Shit! Well, thanks anyway, Bob. I'll find another way, I just need to think. It'll be easier once I have some other things worked out." I said, watching Frank pat Puppy. I really wanted to know something more about him and his family.
"Is everything ok?" Bob questioned.
"Yeah it is, Frankie began to take his meds today, so we'll see how that goes."
"Did your boss pay you earlier?"
"Yeah...well, not exactly. I'll tell you about it some other day." I knew Bob wouldn't buy my lies. He always knew when someone was lying.
"Oh, ok. Talking about that, what do you say I come see you tomorrow after work? I have the day off."
"Bob I told you that..."
"I know, I know. I won't force you to drink alcohol, you can have a soda. I just miss you, man!"
"Aww...sometimes you're such a pansy, Bryar."
"It's good that we've shared too many nights at bars and you can testify that I like girls!"
"It's true, I have no doubts about it!" I laughed. Bob was really lucky with women, he'd always find himself a pretty lady to have a good time. He'd say he did believe in love, only that he needed to try many until he found 'the' one.
"What about you, Gerard? I know you haven't been in the mood, but it's time you get over it. Two relationships didn't work? So what? It's not that bad. They just weren't the ones for you." he simply stated.
Well, there were many details Bob didn't know, although he was correct: they weren't the right ones for me. Even when thinking about that first person I had loved so much, time showed me that things had happened that way for a reason. I was destined for something different. Then Laura...that relationship had been an error from the beginning. She was a good girl and I'd gotten to love her as a friend, but because of wanting to give myself a new chance I had made her lose her time. Now I felt like I was on the right track, with the right person. Full of doubts and fear, yes, but at least sure of what I wanted. Whatever role life had saved for me in Frank's life -whether it was the one I was dreaming of or that of an older brother- I was going to fulfill it the best I could. It was my place in the world, beside him.
"You're right Bob, but now Frankie's my priority. I'm fine the way I am, really." I answered truly as the boy came to hug me with a begging look. He wanted me to leave the phone and go cuddle with him. He'd always give me that look when he felt sleepy and I was busy with something. That look was even more irresistible now, focused on me. His eyes were the prettiest, no one would convince me otherwise.
"If you say you're fine, then you're fine! What about my invitation for tomorrow?" Bob mentioned again.
"Uh...I'm gonna have to pass for this week. I wanna be home early to see how Frankie's doing. Maybe next week, ok? I promise I'll take up your offer soon."
"Ok, fair enough. See you, man!"
"Bye Bob, thanks again for trying!"
******
The following two days were tenser for me than for Frank. I'd been constantly checking on him to see if there was any new change, if he was feeling alright or if any side effect had appeared. Frankie, on the other hand, obviously used to being on medication, had shown any preoccupation and would look at me intrigued every time I asked how he felt or similar questions.
So far I hadn't had any more problems to make him take the pills. He either had them inside of a candy or over a toast with -also strawberry- marmalade.
As I increased the dose, he became a little more controllable. Less stubborn, as Ray had put it. He wouldn't argue or get angry so easily, which was a great thing. He was quieter, though still more active than a 'normal' person. He had been sleeping very well, which was another thing I was thankful for.
On the bad side, he seemed more apathetic than before for moments, though he still reacted normally to affection. However, he hadn't kissed me again; he hadn't even tried. I wanted to convince myself that it didn't mean anything, that he was just slowly adapting to the medication. But I was worried, very worried. I had decided that I wouldn't try anything until he demonstrated that he wanted it. I wouldn't force things.
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