The McLanahan Clinic Ch. 03

The van's wheels changed tune, slowing as the woman stared hollowly at her hands cupped together lightly in her lap. She sat woodenly in the back of the van, her eyes aching from too little sleep, and nauseous from the trip. She leaned into the turn as the van made a right turn off the barely maintained county road, listening quietly as crunched underneath the tires.

"I'd wish they'd throw some money at those potholes Becky, this drive's getting worse every year." The driver groused.

Becky smiled as she slipped a battered bookmark into her romance novel and closed it with an authoritative snap. "This is a great place. Private beach, sprawling estate -- I've heard even the food is good. Quite a change, don't you think?" She said brightly, craning around to smile at the woman sitting quietly in the back.

The woman nodded quietly.

Becky tried another tack, "You can make some friends here during your stay. Wouldn't that be nice?"

The woman nodded quietly again.

Becky's smile grew fixed as the woman failed to respond and silence lapsed again. The van crunched to a stop, "Ah, we're here." She said as the drive shut off the engine.

Becky and the driver jumped out, and the van grew blessedly silent for a moment. The woman could hear a muffled conversation before the back doors of the van opened with a click. "Come on, let's go." The driver said gruffly.

The woman shuffled out slowly, blinking, and shielding her eyes at the bright afternoon light.

"She's handcuffed?! That is not acceptable!" A woman bellowed.

"It's for her protection." Becky said stiffly. The woman Becky was talking to was shorter, plumper, looked more motherly to Becky's bony hawk-like features, but Becky still retreated a step defensively when she leaned forward angrily.

"Protection from what?! No, no, I don't want to know. Just take those damn things off."

"But the laws..."

"NOW!" She bellowed.

"Carl, you heard the woman, take them off." Becky said, then thrust a battered metal clipboard at the shorter woman, "Just sign at the bottom and she's yours."

The shackles around her ankles and hands came off quickly, the driver bundling them up in a small metallic ball he tossed into the back before shutting the doors.

Becky collected the clipboard and stuffed it under an arm before reciting, "Erika Olympia Jiang, you have been remanded into the custody of Alysha Mantegna, director of the McLanahan Clinic. I, as your parole officer, will visit bi-weekly and will receive weekly updates to ensure you are keeping to the terms of your parole.

"If, at any time, you violate your parole, you will be arrested and detained at a suitable facility until the end of your sentence, plus an additional five years for parole violations. Do you understand what I have just said to you?"

Erika nodded.

"Sorry, it has to be verbal."

"Yes."

"Okay, you have been fitted with an electronic bracelet that will track your movements by satellites down to the inch. Your boundaries are the immediate grounds of the manor. You will receive an audible warning when you are approaching the boundary, and a loud warbling alarm when you have passed them. When you have passed them, the local police are alerted, and you will be found in violation of your parole, and arrested and detained at a suitable facility until the end of your sentence, plus an additional five years for parole violations.

"In addition, do not attempt to tamper with or remove the bracelet, as this will activate the alarm. It is waterproof so you can bathe with it, but do not submerse it in water, as this may damage it. Do you understand what I have just said to you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Erika Olympia Jiang, you have been paroled. Good luck." Becky said, shook the plumper woman's hand politely, and jumped into the van.

"Hiya," the plumper woman said, sticking her hand out, "I'm Alysha Mantegna, the director. I guess you're Erika, right?" Erika shied away from the hand and nodded. "Right." Alysha said, dropping the hand to her side. "Come inside, I'll show you to your quarters for your stay."

Erika barely glanced at where she was going, keeping her eyes only on where she was walking.

"I've read your file, wherever did you learn Hsing-I?"

"Godfather."

"Ah, and Jeet?"

"Godfather."

"Capoeira?"

"Godfather."

"Ah. Well, here's your room." Alysha said stopping in front of anonymous wooden door. A small pad glimmered red on the wall next to the doorknob. "Each room is keyed to the occupant or occupants. Biometrics and the like. Just press a finger to the read pad here on the doorframe, wait until the light turns green, and then open the door." She said, pressing a thumb against the door in demonstration. The light changed green as the door unlocked with a muffled clack. "There. So easy even I could do it." She said with a warm smile, clicking the lights as she led Erika into her room.

The first impression Erika had of the room was it strongly reminded her of an upscale hotel room. One narrow bed, a small end table, a scattering of lamps, a spray of probably fake flowers in a lopsided blue ceramic vase, a small bathroom, and a couch that had seen better days pushed up against the wall.

"Okay, here's your bed, bathroom's through there. You're therapy schedule is on the table, as is the map of the manor and the surrounding grounds. Lunch is between eleven and one, dinner is between eight and ten, and breakfast is between six and nine. You can get food from the cantina in the off hours, but they'll be mostly sandwiches. Laundry rooms are down the hall to the left. We have a game room with some TV's and game consoles and pool tables, that's down the hall and to your left. Follow your nose to the cantina, or the trail of people. Since you don't have any clothes, we'll see what we can scrounge up for you."

"That's fine. Thank you."

"Not a problem child, I'll leave you to settle in. If you have any problems don't hesitate to ask someone."

"Thanks." Erika said quietly. Alysha grinned at her and left quietly.

Now left to her own devices, Erika prowled the room twice, peering into empty cabinets and closets filled with a score of empty hangars, finally winding up at the center of the room again. The only thing she could say that had changed was she had more privacy, her own shower, and more space. It still felt like a cell, however. As attractive as a shower and sleep was, something inside her wanted to test the limits of her cage.

Getting outside was ridiculously easy. There were only the most basic locks on the doors, and little traffic. Her stomach grumbled noisily as something remarkably smelling like edible food wafted across her nose in her explorations. When she glanced in and saw close to fifty people dining cafeteria style, she shuddered and melted away.

Outside, she walked a carefully tended brilliant white gravel path quietly as the wind lazily pushed through trees just starting to bloom. Spring was coming. For a moment, Erika could imagine she was just a young woman enjoying the scenery. The path curved around the manor, and Erika slowed was she saw someone in a powered wheelchair quietly meditating on a waist high granite boulder set beside the path. Upon hearing the quiet crunch of gravel underneath her sneakers, the man twisted around stiffly and called, "Um, help?"

Erika pointed at herself doubtfully, looking around for someone else.

"Yes, you. Hi, my name's Alexander, and unless you have a charged car battery secreted somewhere on your person, could you give me a push? My battery seems to be dead."

"Erika," She said, stepping closer gingerly.

"Well, Erika, as long as you're driving, I'll give you the nickel tour. First, let's go thataway." Alexander said, pointing down the trail.

Erica strained a little to get the chair moving, but it rapidly moved along in a comfortable clip.

"You've presumably seen the inside of the manor, right?"

Erika nodded before she realized he couldn't see her from where he sat. "Yes." She said simply.

"Well, that over there," he said pointing to a large greenhouse, "is the arboretum." The plowed ground around it is the garden people here manage every year, and I've been told that anything grown gets thrown into the food supply around here. As we round the corner, you can see the pool and the tennis/basketball court. Those poles you see are there so you could string a tarp over, to play tennis in the rain, presumably, though I don't see the attraction, personally. Further out is the pool complex. Complex in the sense that it has a pool and a Jacuzzi close to each other. There are no change rooms, and the entire thing is open-air with only a canvas canopy to keep the sun out, but you're only supposed to use it in the dead of summer, which, I've been told, can be rather hot around here. There is the loading dock for the kitchen over there, in the rare case an actual truck makes its way up that horrendous road."

A line of flowers lay in neat little lines in the distance. "What's that?"

"The flowers? Dunno. I don't have off road tires for this jalopy, so I can't take it off the track--or wander far from an electrical outlet, apparently. Although the sport concept of extreme off-road wheelchairing does have an odd appeal." He said drolly, and Erika found the corner of her mouth quirking up in shared humor.

"Oh, so you do have a sense of humor. That's good. It's practically a requirement in the club."

"Club?"

"A very exclusive club, it is. Very exclusive. Only three people in it so far. We're so exclusive and secretive that no one else knows about us. Otherwise others would want into the club, defeating the purpose of a secret and exclusive club." Erika pushed the chair around another bend and gaped at the ocean, stretching from the shoreline to eternity. "Ah, there we are." Alexander said, waving at two other people rising from their picnic. "A word to the wise, don't say anything sexual to the one with the red hair."

"Is she a prude?"

"Gods no, quite the opposite. Just don't -- I'm her roommate, I have to listen to her masturbate when she gets riled up. This wouldn't be bad if she was quiet, but the girl goes at it like it was damn near an Olympic event -- animal noises practically all night. I get little sleep, she gets little sleep, and in the morning it's just damn awkward, okay?"

"Okay." Erika said dubiously.

The one with the red hair ran up and practically vibrated from excitement. "So, who's yer friend, Alex?"

"Alexander." He corrected, "Lucy Miller, meet Erika... I'm sorry, I didn't get your last name."

"Jiang."

"Erika Jiang." He finished smoothly.

"Hi, pleased to meecha." She said sticking her hand out.

"Sorry, I don't touch people."

"Ah. Psychological then." Alexander said. At Erika's curious look, he replied, "People come here for two reasons that I know of: physical therapy, like me, or psychological therapy like Lucy here. You lacked scars on the outside, so your scars have to be on the inside."

"Alex," Lucy whined, "quit giving the girl a hard time."

"Alexander." He corrected automatically.

"What are you here for?" Erika asked politely.

"Because I'm a cock-hungry nympho cumslut." Lucy beamed.

"Don't mind her, she's just shy around strangers." Alexander advised Erika dryly.

"Alexander, we wondered where you went." The second woman called.

"Sorry Stephanie, my battery died because someone here forgot to plug it in. And I can't do it, so that leaves someone here who could, is my roommate, didn't do it, and shall remain nameless!"

"Oops." Lucy squeaked, "I knew I forgot something."

"I rest my case."

"Well, come on Alexander and bring your friend." Stephanie called.

"Introductions, Erika Jiang, Stephanie Mujica. Are you hungry?" Alexander asked. Erika's stomach rumbled at the sight of the food spread out on the blanket. "I'll take that as a yes." He said with a smile.

The other woman, a slender dirty blonde in a long sleeved dress, smiled and handed Erika a plate ladled with food. "Welcome to the club." she said simply.

"What are you here for?"

"Depression."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. That's why I'm here."

"Why are you eating out here?"

"Instead of in there? Well, Alexander has problems getting around in that thing when Lucy doesn't forget to charge the batteries, and Lucy has to stick around him as part of her therapy, so hypothetically wherever he goes, she goes. I go because I like the view out here more than in there, and it's more pleasant to eat with company than it is alone -- part of my therapy. Eat up, I had Cassie prepare it for us."

"Cassie?"

"Cassandra, the head cook. She does magic with food. Alexander thinks she can be in a high-class restaurant, but I'd take that with a grain of salt."

"Oh?"

Stephanie pointed to her head and said quietly, "He's amnesic. Pretty bad too, can't remember anything after childhood. So he couldn't remember what a high-class restaurant is even if he's been in one before, but she is very good."

"Less talking more eating!" Lucy complained.

Erika took the proffered plastic fork and dug in. For the first time in six months, Erika ate food that wasn't "institutional", and her taste buds practically wept with joy.

"Do you know who your roommate is, Erika?"

"I don't have one."

"Really? We all have one, except Stephanie." Alexander said, pointing at her with a fork. "I suspect that's because she's been here the longest."

"Rank does have its privileges." Stephanie said with a lazy smile.

"So what are you in for, Erika?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"New arrival?" Stephanie asked gently.

"Yes."

"Today?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a job here yet?"

"No...?"

"For those of us that cannot pay out of pocket, we are allowed a job here in the clinic to pay our way. It earns us chits we can spend in the cantina, and keeps this place running, almost. If you want, you can work with me in the arboretum. It's light work in stifling heat, and since Tara left."

"Ran away, you mean." Lucy snorted.

"Sometimes, some people cannot accept who we are." Alexander said quietly.

Stephanie's eyebrow quirked, "So what are we?" she asked evenly.

"All of us, to a person, scarred more hideously inside than some wish to admit to. And perhaps even a little envious of those that are not."

"Yourself included?"

"Of course."

"Were you a philosopher in a previous life?" Lucy asked.

"Perhaps. I hope not," Alexander made a face; "there's hardly any money in it, except to teach other dilettante philosophers."

"Previous life?" Erika asked.

"Alexander has gone all mystical on us for that." Stephanie smiled, "Until he remembers who he was, he considers it was as if he died."

"Not he, as in me-now, that is, but he as in him-then. The person I was." To Erika's confused look, Alexander replied, "I certainly can't heroically rage against the dying of the light, it was already snuffed by the time I became aware of it."

"It's certainly a unique view upon memory loss." Stephanie said to Erika just as Alexander's watch started beeping.

"Crap. I'm sorry Stephanie, I gotta get going to physical therapy. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay, Alexander, I'll see you. Lucy?"

"I gotta shove his broke ass around. I'll catch you later. See ya, Erika!"

"Goodbye."

"Mush, doggie! Mush!!" Alexander called imperiously, making whip-crack sounds as Lucy laboriously pushes the chair towards the manor.

"I'll mush you, Alex. I'll tell the therapist to twist you into a pretzel! I'm crazy, you know I'll do it!"

"Alexander!" he corrected with a bark of laughter.

Stephanie chuckled. "Lucy's a good girl, deep inside. She just needs a little help controlling her hormones--and they left me with the dishes again!" She cried in surprise. "Would you give me a hand with these? We'll just dump them in the kitchen."

As they walked together, arms full of dishes, Stephanie said with a drawl, "You know Erika, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Days passed in comfortable safety of routine of works, meals, and therapy. And then something happened that Erika did not expect. Stephanie was working with the hanging sprinklers, who had stopped working a few days before, when Erika heard a shriek, and the hiss of spraying water.

When she skidded to a stop beneath the ladder and looked up to see water spraying all over Stephanie, who simultaneously giggled, coughed, and spat water while she tried ineffectually to stop the flow with her hands. "Quick! Erika, shut the water off before the plants flood!"

Erika leapt to the valve and spun the handle, reducing the flow immediately to a slow trickle.

"Aw, Erika, it's busted. We're going to have to get a new sprinkler head and run new hose. It's going to take an hour to run the hose, and God only knows where I'm going to get a new head." Stephanie said, climbing down carefully.

Erika started to say something when Stephanie turned and started to wring out her hair. Instantaneously, Erika noticed the water spray had done wondrous things to Stephanie's clothes. Not only did her usual loose t-shirt and jeans adhere like a second skin, but her t-shirt became translucent, and for the longest moment in Erika's life, she simply stared in amazement.

Stephanie's eyebrow quirked, "What?"

"N-nothing. You're wet."

She smiled. "I know. I'm going to change in the back, okay?"

"Sure." Erika said as Stephanie passed.

"You should close your mouth when you stare," Stephanie called out from behind the divider, "it doesn't make you look very bright."

Erika felt her ears heat.

"I can almost hear you're embarrassment from here. Don't be, you're not the first that looked."

"I.... uh... yeah."

"We've been working for a while, and I just can't figure out why you were in jail for."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. You do your job competently, you're a bit too reserved, and I hear your therapy isn't going well."

"How do you know that?"

"I didn't." Stephanie paused and the wet splat of clothing hitting the ground sounded preternaturally loud in the hush of the arboretum. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"No."

"Do you say that to Doctor Ross a lot?"

"Yes."

"Monosyllabic."

"What?"

"Alexander noticed you get monosyllabic when you get defensive."

"He notices too much."

"He can't help it. He's stuck in a mystery novel with himself as both victim and detective. Which reminds me; mental note: I have to give him some Agatha Christie novels tonight, he might like them. Are you sure there isn't anything you want to talk about?"

"Yes."

Stephanie sighed, "I'll be here when you do, okay? Now go find Alysha and tell her we need about five yards of piping, a score of connectors, and a spigot head."

"Why me?"

"Why not you? Besides, I'm going to take a dip to cool off. Now run off and heroically be the bearer of bad news."

"Thanks."

Later, Erika found herself lying on doctor Ross's couch, mulishly staring at her feet as she recounted the story.

Doctor Ross made a note on her notepad, "So what happened afterwards?"

"Nothing. She walked out and headed for the pool."

"What did you feel during all of this?"

"Odd."

"Did you do anything afterwards?"

"I might have sat by the pool and watched her swim. A little. Talked with her. A little."

"Have you considered the possibility that you might be bi-curious, or even lesbian?"

"A dyke? Nononono. No way am I some kind of raging dyke."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sure. I like the dick as much as the next woman. If that next woman wasn't a dyke. Which I'm not. A dyke, I mean."

"Of course."

"I'm so flaming heterosexual I could start fires miles away." Erika muttered to herself.