“You’re still here, so I am too. At least for awhile,” Finn explained.
“How long?”
“It depends on things.” Finn shook his head, as if he didn’t really know. “Everything about your situation is so different. It’s hard to say anything with certainty.”
“You keep saying that. That I’m different. What does that mean? What are you talking about?”
“Usually, when changelings get about eighteen, a little after, they have some signs and symptoms of what’s happening,” Finn explained. “Your abilities start to kick in with puberty, but they’re so faint, you don’t notice. They get their full force by the time you’re twenty. So a tracker comes, finds you, and when they explain what’s going, it’s a relief. Because you knew you were different.”
He looked at me earnestly, and I did understand that feeling to an extent. It was hard to swallow, but as soon as he had told me that I wasn’t my mother’s child, it had been like all the pieces of my life had suddenly fit together. When I actually thought about it and realized how implausible that was, though, I couldn’t completely believe it.
“So why did you come for me now? And why did you wait so long to tell me? You’ve been around for a couple weeks,” I pointed out.
“You moved more than any other.” Finn nodded to the house. “We’d lost you a couple times already, and they were afraid that something might be the matter. So I was here, monitoring you until you were ready, and at the dance, I thought you might be.” He exhaled deeply. “I guess I was wrong.”
“Can’t you just ‘persuade’ me to go along?” I asked, and some part of me hoped he could. I really did want to go with him, but there was too much I couldn’t get over.
“I can’t,” Finn shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Wendy?” The front door swung open, and Matt leaned out, interrupting my conversation with Finn.
I became acutely aware of how close we were sitting together. Our knees were nearly touching, and Finn had actually leaned in towards as me. As soon as Matt came out, I automatically moved back a bit, and Finn saw that, so he mimicked it and sat up straighter.
“Uh, yeah?” I felt kind of dazed, but I was starting to realize that was just the effect Finn had on me. Matt was glaring at both of us, and I wanted to glare back, but I couldn’t muster it.
“Don’t you have homework?” Matt made it sound like a command.
“I don’t know,” I floundered.
“Why don’t you come in anyway.” That definitely was an order.
“Okay.” I waited a second for him to go back inside so I could say good-bye to Finn privately, but Matt was going to stay planted in the door until I went in. Sheepishly, I turned to Finn. “Thanks for stopping over.”
“Just think about things.” Finn stood up, and I looked up into his dark eyes. I would be devastated if I never got to see them again, and just knowing that he was leaving now made me want to cry. He pointed to the piece of paper in my hands. “Keep in touch. Okay?”
“I will,” I promised, and a trace of his smile played on his lips.
Finn nodded at Matt when he walked past him, who just glowered in return. I stayed on the porch until Finn drove away, and Matt kept his post, as if Finn would suddenly dash up and kidnap me the second he went inside. I rubbed the paper in my hands and wondered how long I could go before I talked to him.
“Are you coming?” Matt asked, not unkindly.
I was staring down at the note, already feeling the sting of Finn’s absence. Why wouldn’t I go with him? I was more attracted to him than I had ever been to anyone, and I don’t mean just physically. In general, people didn’t interest me, but he did. He was promising me a life where I fit in, where I was special, and maybe most importantly, a life with him. What was I staying here for? It wasn’t just because of Matt. I would have to leave him eventually, and it would probably be fairly soon, with or without Finn.
The problem was that I just wasn’t convinced, not entirely. I had always been a logical person, and I very rarely let emotion guide me. Okay.
That’s not true at all. I let anger and annoyance dictate everything, but I had never let longing cloud anything before. It was a new kind of emotion, so I didn’t trust it or my own judgment. If there were just some proof, I could go happily with Finn…
“Wendy?” Matt repeated.
“Hey, Matt?” I stared down at the paper. “Are you busy this afternoon?”
“I don’t think so…” Matt answered tentatively. He had come out of the house and walked over to me. “Why? What’s on your mind?”
“I was thinking… I’d like to go visit Mom.”
“Absolutely not!” Matt was livid. “Why would you even want that?
That’s so completely out of the question. No way, Wendy. That’s just obscene.”
I looked up at him, staring into his angry, confused blue eyes, and tried to remember what I had done with Patrick and Maggie. According to Finn, I had probably been using persuasion for awhile, but I had never purposely done it before. It had always been something accidental. And if I could use it, I hadn’t been doing it long enough to be that good at it, and Matt was very adamant against me seeing my mother, so he might not be able to be convinced even if I did have it.
Staring directly in his eyes, I just repeating the same thoughts over and over. I want to see Mom. Take me to see her. Please. I want to see her. His expression was hard, but eventually, it started to soften around the edges. It took longer than it had with Patrick or Maggie. If somebody were watching, it would’ve been much more obvious that something was going on.
“I’ll take you to see Mom.” Matt sounded like he was talking in his sleep, and I instantly felt guilty for what I was doing. It was manipulative and cruel. But I wasn’t just doing it to see if I could. I needed to see Mom, and this was the only way I could do it.
“Okay,” I stood up quickly and carefully tucked Finn’s note in my pocket. “Let’s go before Maggie asks too many questions. Or any for that matter.”
Matt nodded. He went into the house to grab his car keys and let Maggie know that we were going for a “drive.” I felt nervous and sick, and I knew Matt would be irate once he figured out what was going on. I didn’t know how long this persuasion would last. We might not even make it to the hospital where Mom lived, but I had to try. We got in the car, and Matt started driving me to see my mother for the first time in over eleven years.
There were several times throughout the long car ride that Matt seemed to become aware that he was doing something he would never do. He would start ranting about how terrible Mom was and that he couldn’t believe he’d let me talk him into this. Somehow, it never occurred to him to turn around, but maybe it couldn’t occur to him.
“She’s a horrible person!” Matt snarled as we approached the state hospital. I could see the internal battle waged underneath his grimace and his tortured blue eyes. His hand was locked tightly on the steering wheel, but it looked like he was trying to pull it away and he couldn’t.
Guilt flushed over me again, but I tried to push it away. I didn’t want to hurt him, and controlling him like this was reprehensible. Before when I’d done it, it had been accidental, but I had done this knowing exactly what I was doing and how it would make him feel. The only real comfort I had was that I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I wanted to see my mom, and I had every right to. Matt was just being overzealous about his protective duties, once again.
“She can’t do anything to hurt me,” I reminded him for the hundredth time. “She’s locked up and medicated. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s not like she’s going to strangle you or anything,” Matt allowed, but there was an edge to his voice where he hadn’t completely ruled out that possibility. “She’s just… a bad person. I don’t know what you hope to gain from seeing her!”
“I just need to,” I said softly and looked out at the window.
I had never been to the hospital, but it wasn’t exactly as I imagined. My entire basis for it was Arkham Asylum, so I had always pictured an imposing brick structure with lightning always flashing just behind it. It was raining lightly and the skies were overcast as we pulled up, but that was the only thing similar to the psychiatric hospital of my fantasies. Nestled in thick pine forest and rolling grassy hills, it was a sprawling white building. It looked more like a resort than a hospital.
After Mom had tried to kill me and Matt had tackled her in the kitchen, Maggie had called 911. Mom was hauled off in a police car, still screaming things about me being monstrous, and I was taken away in an ambulance.
Charges were brought against my mother, but the case never went to trial. She plead out, claiming she was not guilty by insanity. Matt had been very upset about that, but he had thought that she would be out in no time at all. They had originally given her cross diagnosis of latent postpartum depression and temporary psychosis brought on by the death of my father. With medication and therapy, there had been the general expectation that she would be out in a relatively short amount of time.
Cut to eleven years later where my brother is talking to the security guard so we can get clearance to get inside. From what I understand, she refused to admit any remorse for what she’s done. Matt went to visit her once, five years ago, and what I got out of it is that she didn’t know she did anything wrong. It was inferred, but never actually spelled out, that there was a fairly good chance that if she got out, she’d do it again.
There was a great deal of bustling about once we finally got inside. A nurse had to call a psychiatrist to see if I would even be able to see her. Matt paced anxiously around me, muttering things about everyone being insane. We waited in a small room filled with plastic chairs and magazines for 45 minutes until the doctor came to meet with me. We had a brief conversation where I assured him that I only wished to speak with her, and he seemed to think it might be beneficial for me to have some closure.
Matt wanted to go back with me to see her, afraid that she would damage me in some way, but the doctor assured him that orderlies would be present and my mother wasn’t prone to violence. He eventually relented, much to my relief, because I had just been about use persuasion on him. He couldn’t be there when I talked to her. I wanted an honest conversation, and I didn’t know how he’d react.
A nurse led me back to an activity room of some kind. They were a few small tables, some of them with half-completed puzzles on them, a couch and a few chairs. On one wall, there was a cabinet overflowing with beat up games and battered puzzles. Plants lined the windows, but otherwise it was deserted.
The nurse assured me that my mother would be here soon. I sat down at one of the tables and waited.