“The room is reserved, and I’ve got maintenance swabbing the floor with ammonia as we speak.”
On his way out of work yesterday, Mitch had slipped one of the custodial staff a twenty for the favor.
“Excellent,” said Grace, her head bobbing eagerly. She seemed both nervous and excited, and for good reason. “Are we using the same room as before? I think it’s important that everything be as close to the way it was when the switch to Penny took place.”
“The very one,” said Mitch, starting down the hall.
Guards and patients, all females in this building, crowded the corridor, some chattering to themselves, others making low groaning noises. Grace, deep in thought, didn’t take notice of them. Because of Edgewater’s confounding layout, the only way to reach the visiting rooms involved some interaction between patients and visitors.
Grace had done this walk plenty of times, but even seasoned visitors sometimes found it hard not to stare. Mitch noticed her gaze fixated on a bedraggled woman with short dark hair, squinty eyes, and a square build. She held a well-worn Bible in her right hand, which she carried on her person most everywhere she went. Her name was Darla, a patient of Mitch’s. At one point Darla had a husband and children, but her disease—acute paranoid schizophrenia—caused impulsive and aggressive behavior, which was never a good combination.
Five years ago, Darla shot her husband in the face at point-blank range because she held an unshakable delusion that he was cheating on her—which, after his demise, proved to be untrue. Unfortunately, Darla still harbored delusions that women were after her long-deceased spouse, and her impulses, though tempered with medication, were hardly under control.
Mitch wasn’t overly concerned when he caught the brief eye contact between Grace and Darla, but he was keenly on guard. The vast majority of people with schizophrenia are not prone to violence of any sort. However, a small number who do suffer from the acute symptoms of psychosis can become quite violent, with delusions being the most likely trigger.
As Darla passed on the right, Grace refocused her attention forward, then took two steps before coming to an abrupt stop. “I should have ordered pizza to keep it the same as it was. I forgot. Dammit.”
“I wouldn’t be too worried about the pizza,” Mitch said. “We’re focused on the right thing here. I’m sure of it.”
Before they could resume their walk, Mitch’s senses became acutely heightened by a sudden surge of adrenaline. He turned to see Darla coming down the hall toward them, eyes blazing, guards nowhere to be seen.
“She screwed him, didn’t she?” Darla said, pointing an accusatory finger at Grace. “I saw that look she gave me. You whore. You bitch.”
Spittle shot from Darla’s snarling mouth as Grace recoiled from the sudden outburst.
Grace was too stunned to speak. Darla pointed her Bible at Grace’s face like she was flinging holy water.
“‘If a man commits adultery with another man’s wife, both the adulterer and the adulteress are to be put to death.’ Leviticus 20:10. Hear that, Missy Prissy? I’ll snap your neck if you so much as look at my husband again. Snap it like a twig.”
Darla mimed the promised breakage with a downward thrusting twist of her closed fists.
Survival instincts sent Grace backward, away from Darla, while Mitch, far more accustomed to these unexpected flare-ups, positioned himself between the aggressor and her target like a human shield.
“Darla, this is Grace,” Mitch said, speaking calmly, but in a firm voice. “She did not sleep with your husband. She doesn’t know your husband.” While Mitch gave the outward appearance of composure and total control, his insides were as tightly coiled as a jack-in-the-box waiting to spring.
“I need you to back away, Darla, right now. That’s an order from your doctor. Do you hear my voice?” He spoke in a commanding way to reinforce his position of authority over her. She didn’t budge, so Mitch changed tactics. “Your husband is dead and Grace has done nothing wrong to you.”
This got a reaction. Darla gazed wide-eyed at Mitch, looking profoundly confused. He knew the shocking information about Charles being deceased would require a moment’s pause for her to puzzle it out, and would, he hoped, help subdue her.
Behind Darla were two guards, who had somehow let her slip away from their sight. They were moving in quickly, ready to pounce, and from their eyes he knew they’d make it an aggressive takedown. By now, Mitch had seen enough fights at Edgewater to know that a quick resolution often meant a violent one.