Shattered to death, p.18
Shattered to Death, page 18
Kenzie managed to keep quiet and not raise her doubts again before they got to Persons.
There were several media vans parked just outside the property, reporters and their equipment, hoping to find a way in. Being kept outside the property line because it was a private clinic. Kenzie drove in through the open gate with a guard standing next to it, eyeballing all the cars. She found a visitor parking space and eased her baby into it.
At the front desk, Kenzie didn’t speak, but let Zachary take the lead. She hid partially behind him while he told the receptionist confidently that he was there to see Rhys Salter.
The receptionist looked at him with an uncertain expression. They probably discouraged visitors, even if they didn’t outright ban them. The woman tapped Rhys’s name into the system and read what appeared on her screen.
“Rhys has just arrived. The program doesn’t usually allow any visitors in the first couple of weeks.”
“His grandma asked us to check in. To make sure that everything is okay and he is settled in.”
“If there were any problems, she would have been informed.”
Zachary nodded and waited. She made a gesture as if expecting him to leave, but he didn’t.
“Is he in a therapy session right now?” he asked and, when she opened her mouth to answer that he was, so Zachary would have to leave, he quickly inserted, “I’ll wait until he’s done.”
“We don’t have the space for visitors to wait here for hours.”
Zachary looked at the small grouping of chairs. “Oh, this is just fine. We’ll stay here until he’s ready.”
She was trying to be polite, but Zachary didn’t seem to be getting the message. “You can’t wait here,” she said flatly.
Zachary motioned Kenzie over to the chairs, and they both sat down. Kenzie looked at Zachary speculatively. “Do you really think you can get us in?”
He nodded, keeping an eye on the woman as he talked to Kenzie in a low tone. “If she’d made a big deal, a scene, or just called security, then I wouldn’t be as sure. But they’re trying to avoid the appearance of anything improper. After the media attention this morning, they need to look squeaky clean. And there are going to be a lot of people in today to check up on their loved ones.”
“They need to reassure everyone that everything is fine and the death of Mr. Isah was just a one-off.”
“And the assault,” Zachary reminded her. “If it was just a death, it wouldn’t be as big of a deal. People do die in hospitals and psychiatric care. But the assault is what frightens people. He wasn’t doing anything except sitting at a table with his head down, and they attacked him for no reason.”
“Well, they had their reasons. But they won’t get very far with people telling them that Isah wasn’t allowed to just rest after a therapy session. He had to be involved in socializing with others or taking part in other activities. Intervening with him physically—and so violently—is over the top. People will not just accept it.”
“You hope not.” Zachary’s eyes were far away. “But I didn’t think they would accept shocking autistic kids for behaving like they had autism, either.”
Kenzie had to concede the point. Zachary had believed that exposing what was going on at Summit would have enraged people so much that the place would be shut down, or, at the very least, would be prevented from using electrical shocks in their therapy any longer. But the public did not rise up against them and insist that they be shut down. A couple of years later, they were still operating.
Dread crawled in Kenzie’s gut. Surely she wouldn’t run into the same problems with Persons. Surely, the public wouldn’t accept that it was okay to use drugs and other practices that could result in the patients’ deaths in their desperate search for a cure.
30
The receptionist kept throwing glances in Zachary’s and Kenzie’s direction, and Kenzie knew that she was anxious about having to deal with them. She didn’t like them sitting in her waiting area, patiently waiting for something she couldn’t grant them. She wanted them out of there, someone else’s responsibility.
Eventually, Dr. Richards entered the reception area and looked around. Kenzie nudged Zachary. He looked up, and his eyes widened at the sight of the white-jacketed, golden-haired bombshell. He looked at Kenzie.
“The lovely Dr. Richards,” Kenzie murmured.
“Wow.”
At Kenzie’s reproving look, he fumbled for a better response.
“I mean… how does she have enough time to put that much care into her hair and makeup when she’s working as a doctor?” Zachary said. “I mean… granted, this is a private clinic, but they still keep their staff busy, don’t they?”
Kenzie chuckled. “Good save. Looks like she’s coming over here.”
Dr. Richards looked at Kenzie for a moment before deciding to approach her. She looked hesitant. Not what she wanted to be doing.
“Uh, Dr. Kirsch, isn’t it?” she asked. “You’re the one who wanted to see Rhys Salter?”
“Yes. Zachary and I.” Kenzie nodded at him. “We are close friends and I’m sure you can understand that after the publicity this morning… we had some concerns.”
“Well, of course, everything in the media has been blown out of proportion.” Dr. Richards hesitated, then tilted her head slightly to indicate they should join her somewhere more private. Kenzie and Zachary stood and followed her. She led them to a meeting room, not her office, and motioned for them to sit.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you understand that things are a little disrupted here this morning. We are not used to dealing with so many inquiries and requests to see patients.” She waited for Zachary and Kenzie to make themselves comfortable, though that was impossible in the cheap, hard-seated stacking chairs. “As I say, the media is really blowing this situation out of proportion. You already know, Dr. Kirsch, that the footage you saw on the TV this morning had nothing to do with Mr. Isah’s death. He was alive and well following that incident where he was… safely restrained. He went back to his room and was perfectly fine.”
“And then he died.”
“Yes… But I’m sure you already know that his death had nothing to do with that minor scuffle. Really…” she rolled her eyes, “it looked much worse than it was. People expect trouble these days, after seeing so many police actions go awry, that is where their minds immediately go. But our staff are well trained in proper restraint and de-escalation. What you saw was really nothing. There was no risk of Mr. Isah being hurt.”
“Well, that isn’t what we are here for,” Kenzie told her. “We’re here to see Rhys. He was just transferred yesterday, and we would like to see that he is settled and has everything he needs. We want to see him and talk to him.”
“There’s no need to take on such a confrontational tone,” Dr. Richards said repressively.
Kenzie would show her what a confrontational tone really sounded like if she continued to stall and block them from seeing Rhys. Kenzie forced a smile and a light tone. “Good. Are you going to bring Rhys in here, or will we be going to his room?”
She and Dr. Richards stared at each other, a showdown. Kenzie was not someone who would be put off by an administrator mouthing meaningless reassurances. Nor was she going to back down because of Dr. Richards’s physical appearance. She was there for one thing, and that was perfectly reasonable. Zachary had already assured her that if they pushed, the hospital would give in rather than having to face any more negative publicity.
Eventually, Dr. Richards took a deep breath and let it out again. “It would probably cause the least disruption if I take you to him,” she relented. “I would ask that you just speak with him briefly to satisfy yourself that he is in good condition and then leave quietly so we can continue treating him. I don’t want him to get agitated, which he may do if he has visitors. It is difficult for him to be here, leaving everyone he loves on the outside, and we don’t want to remind him about what he is missing. We want him to be comfortable and rested so that he will not be resistant when we begin his therapy.”
“What therapy are you planning? Are you talking about giving him MDMA?”
Richards’s lips pressed tightly together, drawing a thin, flat line that was not particularly flattering. “Since you are a doctor, I know you understand doctor-patient confidentiality. You are not Rhys’s guardians. Even if you were, there are certain things that I would not be able to tell you, to preserve his confidentiality and his trust in me.”
“You are not prevented from talking to his grandma about what therapy he is undergoing. In fact, you would be negligent in not giving her all the details about any therapy he was undergoing.”
“Nevertheless…” Dr. Richards stared steadily at Kenzie. “You are not his guardian. Mrs. Salter has been informed about what therapies Rhys will be undergoing. If she has not communicated those to you, it is not up to me to tell you anything about them.”
“You are doing hallucinogenic therapy. That’s what she said.”
Dr. Richards shrugged, still giving nothing away. If Kenzie were just guessing, then Richards would not be tricked into telling her.
“When are you starting?” Kenzie asked, hoping that they would be able to push it off as much as possible. “I assume you’ll wait until he has been here long enough to establish a relationship of trust. It wouldn’t be good to jump into something scary like that without first ensuring he could trust you not to do anything detrimental to his health.”
No comment from Dr. Richards.
Kenzie shook her head, exasperated. “Okay. Let’s go see Rhys.” She stood up.
Zachary scooted his chair back noisily and stood as well. Dr. Richards nodded and led them out of the room. “Again, I would ask you to keep this brief and low-key. It is not the time for a long, involved meeting. You don’t want to make Rhys homesick.”
Kenzie didn’t make any promises.
Dr. Richards didn’t push it further. Maybe she recognized that she had already done as much damage control as possible. Now, she needed to shut up and let the visit progress. She needed things to seem as routine as possible so that Kenzie didn’t overreact and report to the media that there were even bigger problems at Persons than she had initially thought.
She led them into the wing where Kenzie had initially attended when she had found Mr. Isah on the floor that first day. It was a sobering thought, and Kenzie grew even more tense about the visit to Rhys. What if they found him motionless on the floor or on his bed? Or hanging from a light fixture?
31
She needn’t have been so worried. When they arrived in Rhys’s small, bare room, they found him lying on his side on the bed, facing the doorway. At first, Kenzie thought he was asleep, but his eyes were not closed. He stared out at the empty hallway dully, and did not look at all interested when Kenzie and Zachary appeared there. She was used to him being animated and interested whenever she saw him. He was always friendly, teasing Zachary, giving them a few big smiles, even if the rest of the time, his face fell into a long, hangdog frown. He was not a happy boy, but he could still enjoy a visit from his friends.
But this time, he did not. Kenzie wondered whether he was even aware of their entering the room and greeting him.
They both said hello, and, not receiving any response from him, turned their gazes toward Richards, who had stationed herself inside the door and appeared to intend to stay there.
“We would like some privacy,” Kenzie said firmly.
“I need to make sure that everything is going well…” Richards countered.
“You didn’t have anyone in the room before we came. Now, there is someone here visiting with and supervising him. You don’t need to be here, eavesdropping on our conversation.”
“I am here for Rhys’s protection. You are not his guardians. It would not be wise for me to leave you alone with him without knowing your intentions.”
“You know our intentions. To talk to him and make sure that he is okay. And I’m not going to do that with you hovering over us. If you aren’t sure if it would be okay with his guardian, then you can call her.”
Richards didn’t move.
“Do you need her number?” Zachary asked politely, pulling his phone out.
“I do not,” Richards snapped. She withdrew from the room, leaving them alone there. The door to the cell-like room was still open, with staff walking by occasionally to keep an eye on things and ensure that all residents were well and safe.
Zachary moved over to the bed, in front of Kenzie. She held back her irritation at her view of Rhys being cut off. But it was really Zachary who was Rhys’s friend, not Kenzie, so it was appropriate that he should be the one to move closer and try to engage with Rhys. There were no visitor chairs in the room. No furniture other than the bed, and a little closet alcove that was empty. Rhys did not have any personal items there. No phone, no change of clothing, no pictures.
Zachary crouched on the floor in front of Rhys, about an arm’s reach away.
“Hey, Rhys. It’s Zachary. How’s it going?”
He waited for what seemed like a long time. The seconds drew out with no response. Rhys didn’t acknowledge his presence and didn’t answer him. He was much like Cara had been at first, acting as if he were completely oblivious to their presence, even with Zachary right there in front of his face.
“I guess you’re having a pretty tough time,” Zachary said quietly. “Vera said that you’ve been having some trouble at school. Maybe dealing with some teasing or bullying? It’s so tough to be a teenager. You feel like you can’t be in control of anything in your life. And when things go wrong… there’s nothing you can do about it. You can feel so helpless and hopeless.”
He paused again. He shifted his position, moving from a crouch on his feet to kneeling in front of Rhys. Not very comfortable on the hard floor.
“Vera said that you had trouble with the resource room teacher too,” Zachary offered. “Did she do something to you? Was she giving you a hard time?” He paused. “Was she bullying you or touching you?”
Something in Rhys’s face shifted infinitesimally. Kenzie couldn’t have said what exactly it was. She still couldn’t tell if Rhys were actually seeing Zachary or not. His attitude didn’t change. He didn’t answer Zachary, but he had reacted, however tiny that reaction had been.
“Teachers do that sometimes,” Zachary said, watching Rhys closely. “Even though they know they’re not supposed to. It’s not your fault if she did. Any more than it would be your fault if she hit you.”
No movement, no response.
“How are you feeling about being here?” Zachary put his hand on the bed. He didn’t touch Rhys. The gesture seemed to be one of solidarity and comfort, even though he didn’t make contact. “I know how hard it is to admit that you need help. To have to go to the hospital or another place like this to get treatment. It feels like a failure, even if everyone tells you that it isn’t, that it was something outside of your control.” Zachary rubbed his temple. “I always feel like… I should be able to control what goes on in my own head. How can I not be responsible for what happens in my own head? But they’re right. It isn’t something that I can control. All I can do is try to get help when I need it. Let someone else in.”
He knelt there, staring at Rhys for a few minutes in silence. A staff member walked by in the hallway, looking in at them and then continuing on his way.
“Did they tell you about the therapy they’re going to do here?”
Kenzie could feel Rhys listening to Zachary now, attentive to every word. Nothing had changed in his position or in his face that Kenzie could tell. She could just feel that he was listening to Zachary. She no longer had any question about whether he could see them and knew that they were there.
“It’s something called hallucinogenic mediated therapy,” Zachary told Rhys. “Do you know about the LSD trials they did back in the seventies? Well, it’s sort of like that, except with a different drug, MDMA. They use it to put your mind in a more receptive state. To open you up to new experiences and make it easier to talk about your feelings and what happened in the past.”
Zachary broke eye contact with Rhys for a moment to look at Kenzie. She wasn’t sure whether he was hoping that she would jump in at this juncture to talk to him about the therapy process he was facing. But there wasn’t much more Kenzie could tell Rhys about it than Zachary had already said. She hadn’t been through one of the sessions herself. Hopefully, Garcia had gotten the videos of the therapy sessions with the other patients at Persons, and Kenzie would get a chance to review a few of them. Then she would have a better idea about what to tell Rhys about it. By then, he might have already gone through a session or two. She wished she could shorten the process and prepare him for it now.
Rhys’s hand moved, and he caught Zachary by the wrist. Zachary immediately looked back into Rhys’s face, smiling reassuringly.
“Hey, bud. I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”
He didn’t say anything, just looking at Rhys. Kenzie breathed, waiting to see whether Rhys would say a word or make a gesture to let them know what he was thinking. He was good at finding nonverbal ways to communicate what he wanted to tell them. But she didn’t see his phone anywhere in the room. Had they taken it away from him? Stored it somewhere safe so that it couldn’t be taken from his room? Or was it at home with Vera?
“It’s okay,” Zachary assured him. “This is probably pretty scary, isn’t it?”
No sound or further movement from Rhys. Kenzie believed he understood what Zachary was saying to him.
At the very least, Rhys had reached out to make physical contact.
“You went to Stanley Green,” Zachary said, eyes intent on Rhys. He shifted his position again, to sit on the floor, slightly below Rhys’s level, relieving his knees. But he didn’t appear to be comfortable in this position either. Kenzie doubted whether the bare floor felt very good on Zachary’s tailbone, which he had broken, not for the first time, the previous year. While he appeared to have healed up from that accident without any significant effects, Kenzie did see that flash of pain every now and then when he sat down the wrong way or had been sitting for too long in a hard chair. He changed his hand position to squeeze Rhys’s hand for a moment, then let it go again. “Did you go to Stanley for help? Were you having a problem that you thought he could help with? Or you just didn’t know where to go for help?”
