Since the day before, his hands had started to shake rather badly once in a while. Even if it sometimes interfered with what he was doing, I'd still let him try by himself and would only help him when he asked me too.
That Sunday morning, Frank had taken a whole pill for the first time. By the afternoon he was kind of clumsy, but he didn't seem to mind. He had been in a very good mood.
"G-gee..." he called me. I was about to clean the windows while he watched TV.
"Yes? What do you need?"
"D-don't like this. B-boring. H-help me change th-the channels?" Frankie requested, his speech more spaced and unhurried now. He couldn't see the remote control's buttons to know where the ones he needed to press were, so he'd either ask me to flick through the channels until he found something he liked, or tell me to put his finger on the correct button so he could do it.
"Sure." I fixed the remote -which was upside down- in his hand and then guided his thumb to one of the 'channel' buttons. "Here. And remember, if you wanna go back just move your finger a little to the left and there's the other button, ok?"
"Y-yeah." he moved through the channels rapidly as I went back to my task. It was a two-leaved wooden window, and each leaf had four glasses. I had barely done one when I heard Frankie talking.
"N-no I don't l-like it, it's all sh-shit. N-no, I...I'm n-not gonna l-leave it on f-for you all." he got up and turned the TV off. That would happen very often, Frank had no real patience to find something he liked.
He tried to half-run to where I was, but stumbled and fell on his knees and hands. "Oh...f-fell again!" he giggled.
"Told you not to run!" I helped him up. "Here you are. It didn't hurt, did it?"
"N-nope. Wh-what you d-doing?"
"Washing the window, wanna help me? You could do the bottom part of it." I suggested.
"Y-yeah!"
"Ok. Let me get other cloths." I said, going to the kitchen to fetch them and back. "Take this one."
"K-kay." he stayed in his place, staring at me.
"Uh, what you do is...get it into this bucket, and when it's soaked you have to squeeze it like this. That way it won't drip water on the floor. Then you clean the glass and finally grab this other cloth to wipe the water away. Easy, isn't it?" I showed him the steps as I gave him the instructions. He appeared to be paying attention.
"Y-yes!"
The first time, he did exactly as I had told him. When he was going for the second glass, he removed the cloth from the bucket as drenched as it was, getting all the floor below the window wet, same as the wall. I didn't say anything.
"G-gotta get you w-well cleaned, y-yes. 'C-cause I'm the s-super cleaner!" he whispered against the window. I had to suppress the laughter. By the time he finished the remaining glasses, a mini lake surrounded our feet.
"Very well, Frankie! You did an awesome job, look how the windows shine!" I wasn't lying, they shined. So I did the right thing and congratulated him for what he'd done right, never mentioning the water mess.
"Y-yay!" he exclaimed happily. "Wh-why can't I clean th-the ones up th-there?"
"I already cleaned those."
"B-but...but wh-why can't I?" he asked again. "I c-can reach them if I s-step on the ch-chair like you!"
"Because you can't get on the chair, you could fall."
"I d-don't care..."
"I do care, I don't want you to get hurt. You did pretty well, anyway! Thanks for helping me, baby."
"W-welcome!" he chirped, quickly forgetting about our little argument.
We went to sleep early that night, since Frankie's appointment for the brain scan was the following morning. I had talked to my boss and she'd allowed me to arrived at the store later. The only thing worrying me was how Frankie would behave, how he'd react. He'd probably only had his brain scanned when he was a kid, if ever. Even though the medication had calmed him down a little, that machine might seriously scare him. I could only trust the doctor to know what to do.
CHAPTER 19
Doctors want to check me,
poke me and dissect me.
What do they expect,
feelings from a wind-up toy?
We arrived at the psychiatrist office -more like a small mental clinic to be exact- at 8 am. My mother hadn't been able to come with us, which added to my already nervous state. She was good at calmly managing those situations that would get me desperate. A quality that -I guessed- came together with being an experienced mother, though mine had a little advantage thanks to her profession.
"Hello, Frankie! How have you been?" the same girl that had greeted us the first time opened the door. Instead of answering cheerily as he'd always do, Frankie clung to me and hid his face on my shoulder.
"Hey...what's wrong, Frankie? You already met her the other day, don't you remember?" I questioned caressing his hair.
"Y-yeah, I kn-know." he whispered.
"Then why are you hiding?"
"D-dunno."
"Did he start taking the medication?" the girl asked.
"Yes, four days ago."
"Well, I'm not a doctor but I see patients all the time here, and many of them are a lot more uninhibited while they're not medicated. Maybe Frankie's naturally shy and it's now showing." she theorized.
"I think you might be right, thought I liked it better when he'd say 'hi!' to everybody..." I didn't want him to isolate himself from people, to lose a personal trait that was positive. "Come on Frankie, she's a nice girl."
He raised his head only to look at me doubtfully.
"You have nothing to be afraid or ashamed of..." I told him. Frank turned to her without completely letting go of me.
"H-hi." he waved timidly.
"Hi! Hey, I hadn't noticed how big your eyes are. They're really pretty!" she complimented him, as if knowing it was one of his biggest insecurities. Not that she was lying anyway; Frankie had beautiful, huge eyes.
"Th-thanks..." he said, a little more confident.
"You're welcome, sweety. You may go wait for your turn if you please. It's the second door to the right. Doctor Goldberg won't be doing the scan himself, but he'll be here to prepare Frankie in a while." the girl informed us.
I walked slowly to accompany and guide Frankie who was dragging his feet, still sleepy and slightly befuddled. After waiting for only five minutes, Goldberg came out of one of the rooms and headed towards us with a friendly smile.
"Gerard, Frankie...how are you?"
"We're fine, but he's a little shy today it seems." I looked down at Frank who had once again found shelter against my chest.
"It's normal, don't worry. He's more aware of reality and that must feel strange after weeks, specially when being away from the place where he grew up. Let's not force him to be sociable for now." the doctor recommended. "Besides that, how has everything gone?"
"I guess okay. He's been definitely calmer and in a better mood. More...stable. Little dizzy and clumsy, and his hands started to shake again, but that was all expected. I haven't noticed any other side effect, so far." I answered hugging Frank.
"Good." he nodded. "Follow me into this room and I'll get him ready."
"Uh...isn't he going to get too scared inside that thing?"
"Wh-what thing?" the boy asked. At home I'd tried explaining what was going to be done to him, but I had never gotten his full attention.
"You'll see now..."
"K-kay." he yawned.
"He seems rather serene," Goldberg observed. "it might go well. I could sedate him, but I don't think he'd like me doing that any more than being into the machine..."
"N-no! S-sedate me means sh-shots! I...I kn-know! D-don't let him G-gee please, don't l-let him!" Frank pleaded, grappling my shirt in a fist. He wasn't screaming, though, which was a progress.
"Shh...don't worry, the doctor said he won't." I hushed him.
Goldberg led us to a room that was dimmer than the rest of the place. I didn't bother scanning it all; upon entering my eyes fell on the stretcher in the middle, an IV stand beside it with a bag already hanging from it. I tried to keep Frankie looking to the other side, just in case he knew what that was.
"Frankie...I'd like you to lay here for while, ok?" the psychiatrist said to him. Frank didn't move, squeezing my hand with such force that it was cutting off my circulation.
"Don't be afraid, he just wants you to relax while he checks some things." I let out the white lie.
"K-kay, but no sh-shots."
"No shots." the doctor promised.
Once Frank was lying down, Goldberg indicated me with a hand gesture to distract him. I ran my hand through his hair and tried to make some conversation. Just when he was talking to me about the tricks he had taught Puppy, I caught a glimpse of Mark with the IV needle in his hand.
"Look at me and keep talking, he's just feeling your pulse. Oh, and you'll have to show me all Puppy can do when we get home, then!" I didn't allow him to turn his face.
"Y-you don't pay at-attention to Puppy, that's wh-why you didn't s-see him!" he accused me with his finger. Goldberg smiled while searching for a vein on his other arm. The trembling was making it harder for him.
"Yes I do! But I've only seen him chasing balls so far!"
"Th-then you d-don't look at him en-enough! H-he's the best!" Frank declared. It was for moments scary how much he loved a dog that didn't exist. If the meds worked as expected, he could stop seeing him soon. What would happen then? Would he remember Puppy? Would he look for him?
Snapping out of my thoughts, I was about to answer Frank when I saw Goldberg introducing the thin needle into the boy's arm. I averted my eyes, terrified of needles myself. I knew I had to carry on talking to Frank so he wouldn't notice, but I suddenly felt nauseous. It was my own aversion plus the fear of how Frankie would react if he saw what was being done to him. He would feel scared as much as betrayed. My sight got blurry and I closed my eyes for a moment.
"N-NO! GET IT O-OUT!" Frankie's scream startled me. He sat up shaking and, with a strong jerk, he freed his arm and sent the IV stand to the floor.
"Frankie please calm down, you didn't even feel it when he got the needle in!" I tried to push him back down.
"Y-you lied to m-me...both of y-you! Y-you said no sh-shots!" he cried, jumping off the stretcher.
"No! We didn't lie to you, this wasn't exactly a shot!"
"Gerard is right, Frankie. It's not a shot. I just need to get this colored liquid into your veins that will help me see your brain later. It doesn't hurt, I promise." the doctor helped me.
"D-DON'T PROMISE! Y-you lie...al-always lies." he spat, sobbing.
"Please kid, I..."
"N-NO!" he interrupted me and stormed off, closing the door behind him.
Out in the corridor, I spotted Frank attempting to run towards the entrance. He didn't get too far before his legs failed him and he fell forwards. Even though I didn't think he could get up quickly enough to escape, I hurried to hold him to make sure he wouldn't.
"N-NOOO, L-LEMME GO P-PLEASE!" he struggled. "D-don't take m-me there..."
"I just want to get you off the floor right now, we'll go sit."
"N-NO! T-take me h-home!" he sniffed. I felt tempted to do so, I didn't want to make him suffer anymore. In his mind we were just torturing him, even if I knew it was all really harmless and necessary.
"I can't, but we'll go soon." I carried him in my arms and sat on one of the beige couches.
"N-NOW! W-WANNA GO NOW!"
"Try to calm down, I'm here and I wouldn't let anyone do something bad to you. Do you trust me?"
"Y-yes." Frank whispered, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He rested his head on my chest and stayed in silence as I rocked him like a baby.
"I...I f-fell again." he mentioned after a while.
"Yes, you did."
"Al-always fall."
"I'm always telling you not to run! Are you hurt?"
"N-not much. Kn-knees hurt a l-little." Frankie wasn't one to complain much about pain when falling, which came in handy considering it had been happening a lot.
"N-NO! N-not h-him, tell him to g-go!" he exclaimed all of a sudden. Goldberg was standing in front of us.
"Frankie? I want us to be friends, so I brought you this." he handed him a candy. It had the wrap on and everything, but I knew there was something about it when I caught Goldberg's blink. "I promised I wouldn't do anything painful to you and I'm not lying."
"It...it's s-strawberry?" Frank asked.
"Yes." Mark grinned.
"Th-then I'll h-have it. B-but still an-angry and don't want sh-shots, kay?"
"Okay!"
"Argg f-fuck...un-unwrap it, Gee?"
"Of course." The sweet didn't look like it had been manipulated in any form, Goldberg had probably injected it from the outside. After getting rid of the red wrapping, I gave it back to Frank who ate it right away, luckily not tasting anything abnormal in it.
"About thirty minutes." the psychiatrist let me know before disappearing into the nearest room.
******
Twenty minutes went by. Frankie couldn't keep his eyes open and was slurring his words.
"Wanna go to the other room? There's less light there..." I suggested.
"N-no no, there's b-bugsss the-there. L-lotsss." he mumbled drunkenly.
"Bugs?"
"Y-yeah..."
"Ok, we'll stay here then."
Fifteen minutes later we were back at the dim room, only this time Frankie was asleep. He never realised that the needle was into his vein again. I, of course, didn't look. When I dared to glance at him, the greenish contrast agent was entering his body. We had then another wait to endure; or I did, since Frank was still passed out.
It wasn't until Goldberg came back along with another man that I took notice that the tomograph had always been in that same room. The fact that I'd failed to see such a big machine was proof of just how tense and worried I was.
"Doctor Carter is going to do the scan." Mark introduced his companion. Everything was settled and Frank was moved to an examination table where a frame was placed around his head. When Carter was sliding the table into the tunnel, Frankie opened his eyes.
"G-gee? Wh-where are you? G-get this out of m-my head?"
"I'm here, don't be afraid. Close your eyes and try to sleep again, it'll be easier that way." I held his hand for a moment.
"I...I'm s-sleepy. V-very." he kept trying to stop his eyelids from falling.
"I know, that's why you should sleep. Don't worry, I'll stay here and nothing bad will happen." I assured him.
"B-but this s-scares me. D-don't want.." he babbled.
"Oh no, don't be scared. This is just...a spaceship." I improvised. He smiled groggily.
"S-spaceship?"
"Exactly. Imagine it's a spaceship with a weird computer inside that will take pictures of your brain. It can get a little noisy in there, but that's normal in space machines, isn't it?" Goldberg spoke to Frank softly.
"G-guess so..." he responded, barely awake.
"What you need to do is close your eyes and try to sleep, or just remain really quiet. It won't be too long, can you do that? Then you can go home." he instructed him. Goldberg's tone was lulling, it worked perfectly for Frank's sedated state.
"Y-yes..."
The table was at last slid into the tunnel and the scanning began. The spaceship idea seemed to work, because Frank endured the procedure pretty well.
"Here we are, the spaceship has landed." Goldberg announced while Carter took Frank out of the tomograph. The boy's eyes cracked open just a bit, searching for me. I got close to the table, grabbing one of his hands in both mine.
"I'm here, you were very good."
"W-wanna go h-home...still s-so sleepy." he rustled.
"Just a little longer. We'll go wait in the corridor in the meantime." Once again I carried him in my arms and took a seat. Goldberg and Carter were going to study the scans and then fill me in on what could be seen. I was praying that the lesion wasn't too serious so Frank would be able to have a normal life. I would take care of him whatever the case, but it saddened me that he had so many problems.
Finally, the psychiatrist walked to us with a report in his hands. I was glad Frank wasn't awake. At that moment, I thought Mark's face looked as serious and nearly tragic as doctors' would on TV. They always seemed to be about to tell the characters that they were gonna die soon. I couldn't help my dramatic nature. Goldberg sat beside us.
"Ok. First of all, the problem is evidently related to the scar on his head. It's not worse than I had imagined, which is a relatively positive thing.The language area is the most damaged. Actually, it's amazing how good Frank can speak and express himself having in mind the importance of the lesion. There are other areas that were also affected. Not directly, but big impacts can cause the brain to shake violently and collide against the skull walls getting damaged." he explicated and then waited for me to say something. I was feeling so tired, also wondering how Frank had gotten hurt. I couldn't get any word out. "Uh...I think it'll be better for me to tell you the effects rather than the technical matters."
"Yes, please."
"Judging from the way it looks I'd dare say that, indeed, the injury occurred before the age of two, maybe even earlier. Kids with this kind of brain damage usually present learning retardation. It takes them longer than normal to learn basic things like speaking and walking, among others. However, in many cases the problem becomes less noticeable with time, and with patience and dedication it's possible for some of them to catch up with other kids. Frankie seems to be a smart boy, but he might need some extra support to help him concentrate. The damage might also affect the understanding, both when listening and reading. Do you have any idea of how much education he received?"
"No, we've never talked about that. I only know -or at least that's what he said- that he can read and write. He won't be able to until he can see better, though, so I'll take care of that very soon. All I've seen him write was his name on a wall with a coin...and on his arms with scissors" I remembered Frank's 'idea of art'.
"Try asking him about all that, the possibilities vary a lot depending on how early he was stimulated to learn. The more information we have, the more we can help him." he pointed out. "Now back to the medication and Frank's progress: so far things seem to be going alright. You must have in mind that severe cases of schizophrenia are not easy to treat, medication helps improve the patients' quality of life but it doesn't make all symptoms disappear. Most patients still say things that make no sense, mix words or have unexpected or apathetic reactions once in a while. And as I've said, Frank's brain is weaker and some abnormalities can be due to the brain damage. It's hard to tell at the moment, antipsychotics take some time to act to their maximum. I want to see Frankie again in a week to work on a more solid base."
"Oh...ok." It wasn't the best comment after all he had explained to me, but it was all my brain could process.
Thinking of the several impediments he dealt with, Frank was truly amazing. I wondered how his childhood had been, how much help he'd gotten, at what age his mother had abandoned him the first time. I had the urge to find out about all that, to know him better. But in order to achieve that, I needed a plan B.
CHAPTER 20
But I see your true colors shining through,
I see your true colors and thats why I love you.
So don't be afraid to let them show.
Your true colors,
true colors are beautiful like a rainbow.
Before we left the clinic, I called Ray. He'd come for Frankie and take him home so I could go straight to work.
I waited for him to arrive sitting in my car. Frankie was soundly asleep on my lap, though you could see that the restless morning had left him nervous. He had unconsciously grabbed one of my fingers tightly with his shaky hand. It had started to hurt, but I couldn't free it. I observed his long eyelashes flickering, eyeballs moving rapidly under closed eyelids.
"N-no...no en-enough...don't w-want..." he mumbled in dreams. I began to trace circles over his cheeks and forehead with my thumb. He sighed and loosened.
"Here I am!" Ray's sharp voice made me jump about three feet in the air, my reaction waking up Frankie who gasped and embraced me.
"Oh, sorry! I thought you had seen me coming, Gee." my best friend apologized, scratching his furry head.
"It's ok, Ray, I was just distracted. Frankie...it's only Ray, boy, relax!"
"Ahh...h-hi Ray..." he yawned.
"Hello, kiddo! Let's go home and I'll make you lunch." Ray opened the car's door for him, but Frank didn't get out or even attempt to move from where he was, holding onto me as if his life depended on it.
"Frankie? Come on, you know I gotta go to work..." I said.
"I'll let you choose what to eat, whatever you want." Ray offered.
"N-no. W-wanna stay with G-gee." he demanded firmly.
"But Frankie, Gerard needs to work. It's already much later than it usually is when he leaves, so you'll see him again soon."
"D-don't care. S-staying with him."
"You and Ray get along well..." I pointed out.
"Y-yeah but...d-don't wanna s-stay with him t-today!" Frankie cried. Ray and I looked at each other, wondering what to do.
"I can't go home with you now, kid." I told him sadly.
"Th-then take me w-with you?" he smiled, tears sliding down his pale face.
"I guess I..."
"Gerard, are you sure you can do that?" Ray interrupted my pondering.
"Well, Sarah said I could bring him along if necessary. And I honestly don't wanna argue, he's had enough stress for today."
"W-will you, Gee? P-please please? I...I'll be g-good!"
"Ok. But only for today, understood? From tomorrow you stay with Ray again as always." I retrieved a tissue from my pocket and wiped his wet eyes and cheeks. He nodded, satisfied. Frank was so similar to a little kid sometimes that it scared me. Similarly stubborn, mostly. It wasn't that bad now that he was medicated, but he had his moments.
After apologizing to Ray for making him drive there for nothing, I headed for the store with Frankie. He was still rather unsteady, so I had to help him get there from the car.
"M-mine's prettier!" he pointed at the famous mobile that tinkled at our entrance.
"Well, that's because it was made exclusively for Frankie."
"Y-yep!"
"Stay here until I think of something for you to do." I made him sit on the floor, since his legs weren't supporting him too well. "Don't try to get up by yourself."
"K-kay"
"Good morning, Gerard! I see you have company today." Sarah walked to us with a pile of printer paper under her arm.
"Yes, he had a difficult morning and insisted on coming with me instead of staying with my friend, sorry..."
"It's ok, don't worry. I said you could bring your brother, didn't I?"
"Yes, thank you. They had to sedate him to do the scan, I don't think he'll be a problem." I turned to check on Frank, but I couldn't see him. "Where's Frankie?"
"He just crawled behind the counter." Sarah signaled.
We found him on his knees in front of the small showcase that contained the most expensive supplies. The glass door had been recently cleaned and was almost like a mirror. Frankie appeared to be highly amused, raising a hand and moving it around slowly, as if giving the twin image time to follow him.
"Sh-shadow!" he whispered. I could see him perfectly reflected there, but I guess all he saw was a shadow.
"Sarah, do you know of a place I could call for food? We came here right from the clinic and Frankie needs to have lunch..." I suddenly remembered. I'd packed a sandwich to eat later as I'd do every day, but I preferred Frank to have real meals if possible.
"I have a little kitchen here in the back room and was preparing something for myself. It's at least enough for two. Do you like noodles with cheese, Frankie?" she asked him. This woman was one in a million.
"Frankie..." I called him, since he hadn't heard Sarah.
"Y-yeah? W-was playing with the sh-shadow that f-follows me." he said. It wasn't the right moment for explanations, so I played along.
"I see, but Sarah asked you if you like noodles with cheese." I knew he did, but wanted him to answer.
"Y-yeah, a l-lot!"
"Perfect! Then come with me." she took his hand. "Gerard, I'm sorry that I don't have enough for you today. One of these days I'll invite you and the other boys for lunch."
"It's not necessary! I must warn you that Frankie's a little messy when he eats sometimes."
"I don't mind." she shrugged. "Go to your section and don't worry about your brother, he'll be fine."
"B-bye!" Frankie waved as they disappeared through a narrow sliding door.
'Brother'. That word sounded so weird, so out of place considering my feelings for Frank and -at least until four days ago- his feelings for me as well. Were those feelings still there? The thought was sad and I was refusing to address the truth, but Frankie had been acting more like my little brother than anything else. I had to be prepared because if that was the case, if that's how he felt and what he needed, I'd have to accept it and adapt. For him.
Around forty minutes later -during which I had to assist the biggest number of annoying clients in a row- Sarah and Frankie came back. He kissed my cheek and sat on the big, quilted chair the woman had brought for him.
"You look happy, I guess you liked Sarah's food."
"Y-yep, she's v-very good. A...a l-little better than y-you." Frank commented.
"Oh, really?"
"Y-yeah, really!" he giggled, and it was music to my ears.
"Did he give you any trouble?" I asked Sarah.
"Nah, he just got a little angry when I tried to help him..."
"Because of his hands?"
"Yes, they were shaking so I thought of feeding him, but he firmly made it clear that he could do it." she related, chuckling.
"Sorry, I forgot to tell you that detail. Frankie likes to eat by himself even if it gets complicated, he always finds the way."
"Well, that's a good thing. In this case he grabbed the fork with both hands and it seemed to work."
The rest of the day went better than I would have expected. First, Sarah made Frank sit beside her and hand her things from a box for her to place them on the shelves. None of them were breakable, so it wouldn't matter if he dropped them once in a while. Frankie was happy to feel useful and acted visibly comfortable around my boss. However, he'd become shy every time anyone else tried to speak to him.
Later, as not many customers were showing up, we took a break to share some cookies while Frankie sang some songs for Sarah. They weren't whole songs but fragments, and the repertory went from childish ones to punk rock. When the show concluded, she clapped her hands and Frank made a reverence that almost got him falling on his head.
At the end of the evening, Sarah declared Frankie her friend. She said he was a very sweet, good boy and I should bring him there some other time.
The exhausted boy crashed on the bed as soon as we arrived home. After using the opportunity to have a quick shower, I called Ray to tell him about the brain scan. My friend had grown very fond of Frankie -even if he would usually give him a hard time- and was upset with the news. Poor Ray even felt bad for being too insistent or slightly losing his temper a couple of times when he'd tried to explain things to Frankie.
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