Cheryl Crossan
“What’s the matter Jones? What have you got that long snout of yours up in the air for?”
Clyde and Jones had just stepped out the backdoor of the humane society and were on their way home. Jones had stopped with one leg up and nose testing the air like a bird dog.
“Be quiet a second Clyde; I smelled something weird and I’m trying to find it again.”
“How does my talking interfere with your nose?” Clyde chuckled at the old hound.
Jones tried to frown. Jones was always trying to frown at humans, but being mostly bloodhound his forehead was so wrinkled no one ever noticed.
Slowly lowering his front leg, he started turning in a tight circle, nose still high. He almost caught the scent again, it was so tantalizingly close but it seemed to move and shift like the fog on the river when it was windy. He sat down and scratched his right ear. What had he smelled?
Clyde was tired and got a little short with him. “Could you do your grooming after we get home?”
Still lost in thought, Jones didn’t hear him. It wasn’t a smell; it was a combination of smells that seemed to come from the same source. But what were they?
He did hear Clyde snort though and looked his direction.
“Jones, I’m tired. What was so great about this smell that we have to keep standing here?”
“It wasn’t great. It was disturbing. I’m just trying to figure out what it was. I think it came from that direction.” He turned his head toward the South end of town and the river. “Do you think we can go home that way today so I can try and pick it up again?”
“Oh good grief. You smell a dead fish and wanna go retrieve it, five blocks out of our way. Well, c’mon while you still have a little hair on that ear.”
Jones stalked off in front of Clyde. Clyde smiled, He may be older, but he’s as sensitive as ever.
“I’m sorry Jones, I didn’t mean to be so grouchy. Don’t get all that short hair disarrayed, okay?”
Jones continued to ignore him and Clyde was grinning now, his thoughts turned back to when Jones was a pup. He was even stubborn then. I don’t think he ever gave up a game of tug-a-war to Robert, although I think Robert let him win sometimes. What an ugly puppy he was when I brought him home. Ears practically dragging the floor and feet the size of saucers. I know Ethel and Robe…
Lost in thought, Clyde hadn’t noticed Jones had stopped in his bird dog position. He ran right into the back of him and Jones when skidding along the sidewalk on his nose. However, not before Clyde got his legs tangled in Jones’ back paws and started paddling his arms trying to stay upright. Clyde looked like a large Emperor penguin chick that was just learning it was never going to be able to fly. He over compensated to keep from falling backward and fell forward on Jones.
“Oooomph,” was all Jones could say for a minute.
Clyde slowly opened his eyes that he’d squeezed closed during the fall, checking off body parts in his head to make sure he hadn’t broken anything, especially a hip. He was face to bloody nose with Jones.
“Are you okay, Clyde?”
“I think so. Just embarrassed. Must’ve looked like a Three Stooges rerun there for a second.”
“Uh, then do you think you could get off me?”
“Oh jeepers, I’m sorry boy. Yes, I’ll get off and I want you to lie still so I can check you all out.”
Clyde got clumsily to his knees and then feet. This day isn’t going so good. We shoulda just gone home.
“Ok, let me take a look at you buddy. Does it hurt anywhere but your nose?”
“Nope, couldn’t be better. Except for the rib that’s pierced my lung, and three broken legs.”
“C’mon Jones, I’m serious.”
Jones scrambled to his feet, ignoring Clyde. That’s it, that’s the smell right there. Sweat, fear, desperation, anger; I’m smelling it all and I’m sure it’s the same person.
“C’mon Clyde, move those old bones. Someone’s in trouble and I don’t know how much time we have.”
It was coming from the river and Jones broke into a fast jog as Clyde did his best to keep up. As soon as they got to the bridge they saw her. Her dark hair covered her face as she looked over the railing on the bridge and she appeared to be an underfed child. She had on sneakers, jeans and a holey jean jacket. They both saw her shiver although the day wasn’t cold. She looked as if she was pondering the meaning of life so they slowed to a walk as the stepped onto the bridge with Clyde gasping for breath and Jones panting.
Why is she emanating those smells? She seems all right. Jones sniffed the air again, confused. Until he saw her start to lift her left leg over the railing.
He wanted to be a streak of lightening as he ran toward her but felt more like a streak of dirt. He saw her sneaker clear the railing, and her put both hands sideways like someone about to mount a balance beam. Just as her left knee cleared the railing Jones did a leap that would’ve made a jumper proud, grabbing on to her jacket as his momentum carried him on passed. Please don’t let the jacket come off.
His luck held. If you can call it that, as once again he skidded across the pavement head first with a screaming person dragging behind him. She kept him from skidding far and although landing dazed him, he held on to the jacket with every tooth he had left.
She continued to scream and tried to scrabble backward away from him. He wasn’t sure if his ears, or belly being dragged on the pavement hurt worse. He was grateful when Clyde got there. When Clyde reached for her, he let go falling to one side panting.
“Mister, look out. That dog’s crazy. He just attacked me,” she screamed.
Clyde murmured soothing sounds until she lowered it a couple decibels. Then he said, “That’s my dog Jones. He didn’t attack you honey, he saved your life.” He got a good look at her then and realized she wasn’t a child at all, but a grown woman. Grown enough to have lines of pain and despair on her face. As his words sunk in her face slowly hardened.
“Get your hands off of me, and go on and take that psycho dog with you.”
Jones lifted his head and frowned. Then he remembered and put it back down, still panting.
“I can’t do that yet honey. See, I can’t let you go off this bridge. But I can help you work out whatever is making you want to.”
“No you can’t. There’s nothing you can do. So go on and leave me the hell alone. Nosy old geezer.”
Jones lifted his head again. “I gotta idea Clyde, let me throw her off the bridge!”
“That’s enough Jones. She’s upset. Can’t you see that?”
“Just my luck. The dynamic duo from a nursing home saves me and they missed their meds. Tell ya what? Why don’t you just toddle along mister and talk to your dog. God, why is it the only people who get labeled crazy are more normal than people you meet on the street?”
She jerked her arm free and ignored Clyde’s hand politely extended to help her up.
“If you and Lassie there don’t get toddling, I’m going to go get the police.”
Clyde couldn’t help but chuckle. “Be sure and ask for Chief Fast, he’s uh, well, an old friend sorta.”
She visibly deflated and sorrow chased the anger from her face. “Listen sir, I’m not usually this rude, but I really do wish you’d leave me alone. I’m really tired and I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
“Tell ya what, young lady. If you’ll come and have a cup of coffee with Jones and me and tell us what’s wrong, I’ll leave you alone. What have you got to lose? The bridge isn’t going anywhere.”
A trace of a smile flitted across her face. “You drink coffee with your dog? Does he have a doggie sippy cup?” But then she frowned. “Buddy, I got enough problems. If there’s something I don’t need right now it’s a sex-starved elderly man to fight off.”
Comprehension came slow to Clyde when she said this. At first he look puzzled, then he blushed and finally stiffened to his full height. “I have only been with one woman in my whole life and that’s all I intend to be with. She was my wife and the only woman I ever loved. You’ve got a nasty streak in you, young lady.”
“And you’ve obviously lived a sheltered life, buddy. I’m sorry if I offended you but it ain’t unheard of, ya know.”
No, I guess she’s right. I may have been lucky in my life, but I still read the paper every day and see the news. There’s just too much bad that’s too common these days.
Clyde relaxed and said, “I know you’re right so we’ll sit on the back porch while I feed the cats. You don’t have to come in the house. My life has been a little ‘rosy’ compared to a lot of unfortunate people.”
Jones had gotten to his feet, absolutely outraged that she could insinuate something like that about Clyde. But I see the news too. I can understand why she might think that. He sidled over to the woman and licked her hand. She scratched his ear without even noticing him at first.
“Oh no, you poor thing, look at you. You’re bleeding.” She knelt down and hugged the ‘attack’ dog. “Did I do that to you?”
Jones carefully felt along the top of his nose with his tongue. He tasted the coppery, salty taste of blood. Who knew how it happened, it seemed to be his day for roller blading on his nose.
“Uh, Jones? Are you aware of how disgusting that is?”
“I’m sorry Clyde, hand me your hanky and I’ll press it on my nose until it quits bleeding.” Jones turned his back to Clyde and sat down.
Clyde laughed at this until he was out of breath. The woman looked back and forth between the two of them. Well, they’re definitely crazy but they seem harmless enough. I just wish I could get them to go away. I am so tired, and that railing is getting taller by the minute.
“C’mon honey. We just live a couple blocks from here. And, I’m sorry Jones. Oh, where are my manners. My name is Clyde and that sensitive hunk of hound over there is Jones.”
In an exhausted voice she said, “I’m Carol.”
She looked confused for a minute, looking around. Then she fell into step with Clyde because it was just easier than getting rid of him. Clyde chattered all the way and she looked at him and nodded. I don’t have a clue what he just said. I feel detached, surreal, almost as if I’m watching this in a movie. I don’t even remember what streets we took to get here. She climbed the three steps to the back porch slowly, and sank into the rocker. She put her head back but she didn’t close her eyes. She was staring at something and finally Clyde realized it was something in her head, something they couldn’t see.
“Why don’t you keep our new friend company boy while I fix some coffee and get the cat food?” Make sure she doesn’t get away Jones, what ever you do.
Jones looked at her, his brow more wrinkled than usual. She doesn’t even see the cats. How can you not notice 11 cats? But, she just rocked gently back and forth, watching that movie in her head that only she could see.
She didn’t appear to notice when Clyde brought her a cup of steaming coffee. He touched her gently on the arm to get her attention and she slowly turned unfocused eyes toward him. She slid her jacket off and Clyde winced when he handed her the cup. Long scars, looking like living things ran up and down the arm she reached for the cup with. What kind of people does that to themselves? Doesn’t it hurt? What is she seeing behind those flat, emotionless eyes?
He fed his strays while he pondered those questions. But they finished eating and he still didn’t have any answers.
“Okay Carol, now suppose you tell me and Jones what the problem is, and let me see if we can help?”
“Clyde, you and Jones are both very sweet but you can’t help. I tried to tell you that. I’ve had more help than I can stand anymore.” She sounded eerily robotic.
“Well, at least tell us the problem, and we’ll do this one step at a time.”
She looked at him, eyes clearing up somewhat and sighed. “I’m mentally ill.”
Just that. Nothing more. Clyde and Jones exchanged glances.
“Okay, but what does that mean? Can you tell us about it?”
“Sure, I’ll try and get them all straight. I’m bi-polar, have a borderline personality disorder, a self-defeating personality disorder, severe anxiety to the place I can seldom leave home unless I’m abusing alcohol, oh and a sleep disorder, agoraphobia and probably post-traumatic stress disorder but I can’t remember if they removed that or not. Oh, yeah I forgot the attention deficit disorder.”
“Do you know what any of that means, Clyde? After all, you was in the nuthouse for a while.”
“Uh, no. Not a word of it. Carol, can you tell us what all that means?”
She looked at him again and smiled, but it was a sad smile that never made it to her eyes. “Which one do you want to know about? Should I go in order again?”
“That would be fine honey. Just let me get my notebook okay? I want to make sure I have it straight.” Clyde went quickly in the house and returned with his notebook and pen.
She smiled that smile again. “Now you look like a Doctor, or therapist, or case manager or even a group leader. I’ll feel right at home.”
“The bi-polar use to be known as manic-depressive illness. They have meds for it, but it works a lot better on the mania than the depression. Plus as you get older you have a lot more depressive episodes than mania anyway.”
She paused to let Clyde finish writing.
“Now the borderline and the self-defeating personality disorders are similar but not exactly the same. They’re the fun ones. No meds for those puppies. Sorry Jones.”
“With the borderline you get frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment, impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging, recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior, chronic feelings of emptiness, inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger, and we can’t forget stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms. Now, you add the self-defeating and you get someone like me, during a period of intense anger who does things I’m intelligent enough not to do. Oh, like fight with the police, things like that. But really the worst is the chronic emptiness and disassociation. Like watching things from far, far away but not being a part of it.”
Again she paused as Clyde scribbled frantically to keep up.
“Add to that the severe anxiety. Had a specialist once tell me I would never be able to quit taking tranquilizers. Wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but he’s been right so far.”
“Now, it really gets interesting when you throw the alcohol into the mix. Since I have poor impulse control anyway, and the tendency to get angry easily it’s like pouring gas on an out-of-control fire. Yet, at least I feel connected during the times I’m drinking and I can usually leave the house when I am.”
She began talking quickly now, paying no heed to whether Clyde was keeping up. “The sleep disorder is pretty well under control through medication. The agoraphobia was probably learned from my mother, and seems to get worse all the time even with alcohol. I use to be a professional, made good money and was admired within my community. Now I live on disability that Jones would have a hard time surviving on. I don’t have an illness you can ‘see’ and people wonder what made me get lazy and ‘choose’ this way of life. Some choice, huh? My attention problems? I take medication and it’s more effective at some times than others. It depends which of the other behaviors are going on at the time. Now, can you even get a glimpse of why I might wanna die?”
Jones curled up on her feet while Clyde just sat and stared. He looked at his notes and then he looked at her again. God, what am I going to say to her? What do I know about these things, or any of those feelings? I was depressed when Ethel died but that was expected. He looked at his notes again, trying desperately of something to say when the back door opened and Robert came outside.
“Hey Dad, Jones. Uh huh, caught ya. I just knew you had a beautiful woman somewhere you weren’t telling me about. Hi there, I’m Robert.”
Robert was gregarious by nature and was puzzled when she just nodded and then the silence stretched out for a decade or two. What the hell is going on here and who is she? He just kept that winning smile plastered on his face and waited for someone to explain. By what seemed like the second decade passed, he was fidgeting in the porch swing. Finally, he couldn’t stand it.
“Have you known these two outlaws long?” He said, still smiling.
She turned to look at him and Robert got a sense of death and decay in her flat eyes. But she smiled and although it never reached those eyes, eyes that would have been a beautiful brown under most situations, he wasn’t quite so creeped out. Then she looked at Clyde fondly and said, “Just about a lifetime wouldn’t you say Clyde?”
Robert suddenly realized he wanted her to look at him like that. He occasionally dated but hadn’t been in love with a woman for a long time. Now he found himself being strangely drawn to someone he didn’t know the name of with dead eyes.
She smiled at Clyde fondly again, and reached down to scratch Jones’ ear. Then she stood. “Do you understand any better now, Clyde?” She asked gently.
He didn’t know how to answer. He hadn’t ever felt most of these things, but he understood with hurtful, crystal clarity. Yet, he needed some time, time to think, time to talk to Robert and then Mike.
It seemed as if she read his mind when he couldn’t answer. “I have to go now, you understand that don’t you?” Her face could have been placed next to the word sorrow in the dictionary.
He jumped to his feet, as well as someone his age could. “No,” he said explosively. Robert looked at him as if he’d finally gone into the chasm that he continued to fear he’d find his father in.
“No,” he said more quietly. “You haven’t given me a fair chance yet. After all this, you can’t be in that big of a hurry. Please Carol, just give me a little time.”
There was a flash of anger that disappeared so quickly Clyde wasn’t sure he’d seen it. Once again, it seemed as if all her ‘stuffing’ leaked out. “Okay Clyde, 2 days. I really do need to go now, though.”
Jones said, “Clyde, I think she’s lying. Don’t let her go, please.” Then he wiggled onto more of her feet and whined softly.
“I have a guest room that I clean every week, but I never have any guests. Robert brought a huge pizza, always does the first Wednesday of the month. Stay, just for tonight if nothing else, please?”
He knew he was taking advantage of the exhaustion he saw in the slump of her shoulders and the circles under her eyes, but he didn’t care. He was going to win this one if he had to move mountains to do it. He had already developed a weakness for the girl, something like you feel for the smallest chick in the nest that isn’t getting fed. It just isn’t fair. It’s nothing but the luck of the draw, and he wanted to change these cards so badly.
She seemed to be almost out of breath just from the effort of lifting her head to look at him. “You are making this worse on yourself, you know? You stumbled on something accidentally, and you are making a bad situation worse. But, having said that I’ll accept your kind offer because I’m just so tired.”
Robert had watched and listened to this ‘coded’ conversation and had no more idea what was going on than when he first opened the back door. All he knew was his heart lightened when she said she was going to stay. He had actually felt forlorn when she said she was leaving.
They moved inside to the kitchen and Clyde said, “Robert, will you show Carol the guestroom, and around the house and I’ll get this pizza on some plates.”
“Sure Dad. Be happy to.” He felt suddenly light on his feet and strangely happy.
When they had left the room Jones said, “Clyde, better watch the boy. He doesn’t know what’s going on and did you see he’s practically glowing?”
“Yes, I saw it. But not until I’d already asked him to do the tour. Somehow he’s picked up on her broken wings and he’s ready to protect her from the dragons. I should have thought of how he is, how he’s always been but I can’t think of everything Jones.”
Jones nosed him gently on his shaky hands. “I wasn’t being critical. I’m just really worried about all of this. I just don’t know what we’re going to do.”
“I don’t either, boy.”
Robert came beaming back into the room. “I left her to wash up a little. She is a wonderful girl Dad, where in the world did you find her?”
Clyde slumped into a chair, and Jones started his low whine again.
“What? What’s wrong with you two? Dad, what the hell is going on?”
Clyde looked over his shoulder to make sure Carol wasn’t coming back in yet. Robert pushed away from the table, left the room and came right back. “She’s out like a light on the bed. She actually has a little snore.” He was beaming again.
“Robert, we uh met Carol, well actually what happened was, well really it went like this…”
“Will you just tell me? Good grief you’d think she was an alien, people eater the way you two are acting.” Robert’s temper was rising.
One deep breath and Clyde said, “Jones saved her life today, Robert. No, wait; let me finish so you really understand. Jones smelled something bad when we came out of the Humane Society. Then he realized it was more than one smell, but coming from the same person. He smelled the fear and despair, and talked me into going home by way of the river. She was climbing over the railing when Jones tackled her and drug her off.”
“But, Dad? What do you mean? What are you saying?”
“You know what I’m saying. Wait, sit here while I get my notes of what’s wrong with her.” Clyde went back to the porch.
Robert had no problem reading his father’s scrawl and his face changed from a frown, to puzzlement to horror. “This is how she feels? She was trying to kill herself? This is how she feels all the time?” He tried to whisper, but his voice was hoarse with unshed tears changing the texture.
“Yes, that’s how she’s lived all of her adult life. And I’ve got a couple of days to turn all that nightmare around.” Clyde didn’t try to hide the unshed tears in his eyes. “Robert, I don’t think I can. She’s been in the system forever, and they haven’t been able to help her. What can I do in two days?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll do something,” Robert said fiercely as if he was counting dragons that needed slain.
“Clyde, I’m so sorry I took you down there today. We are trying to stop an avalanche with a lasso. And now the boy’s involved. I am sorry, I really am.”
“Don’t fret, my old friend. You, I, he, we’re all doing what we feel we have to. I’m not ready to give up, but I sure wish we could think of one thing in our favor.”
“What are you two talking about now?” Robert spat out. “Maybe we should take her back to the river, and you and I could swing her by her arms and legs into the water, and then see if ‘Fido’ could fetch her.”
Robert stomped into the living room and turned on the T.V.
“He’s not mad at you Clyde, he’s just not in control of his feelings yet.”
“I know, buddy. He’s just now dealing with the helplessness we’ve been feeling since the bridge. I just hope Mike has some answers for us.”
Clyde dialed Robert’s old school chum that was now a psychologist. What am I gonna say if he answers?
Mike answered, Clyde identified himself and Mike chatted for about a minute before he realized Clyde wasn’t responding. “What is it Clyde? Is Robert okay?”
“Yes, he’s, well not fine but I didn’t call about him. I called about the reason he isn’t fine. Oh Mike, I know I’m not making any sense, but can you come over after work?”
“I’m on my way now.”
After saying hello to Robert and Jones, Mike listened to Clyde’s sketchy story. Then he started reading the notes. He read them through three times, making notes of his own in the margins, then sat quietly for a few minutes. By then Robert had joined them in the kitchen.
Mike looked carefully at Robert, then Clyde. When he finally spoke, his words floored them both. “The question is not necessarily how to keep her alive, it’s why IS she still alive?” Seeing there stunned faces, he hastily explained, “I know this is all Greek to you mostly, but it’s just about the worst combination of illnesses I’ve seen in one person. Statistically, she should’ve been dead from suicide or her impulsive behavior a long time ago.” He let that sink in.
“Mike, are you saying nothing can be done?” Robert asked.
“I’m saying that no matter what you do, the anger, feelings of emptiness, the disassociation, fear of abandonment and those other things will continue. Let me give you an example, Robbie.” (Mike was the only person who still called him by this elementary school name any more, and then usually just when he was stressed.) “She could wake up feeling great one morning and because of that, ask you to stay home from work so you two could do something, and maybe not a real rational something. When you tell her you can’t, that will be perceived abandonment in her head, although she’ll fight it and use every little tatter of rational thinking available to her. But the fear will win. And, she may kill herself successfully that day. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Robert just nodded, unable to speak.
“Well, no, you really don’t because on top of that she knows that no matter how faithfully she takes her medicine, and takes care of herself, she will get depressed again. It is the illness. There is no way to get away from it. Depression stalks her around every corner, into every enjoyable activity and hides in every closet just waiting to spring. Are you even coming close to getting the picture?”
“But if she had someone who loved her, really loved her…”
“If the fear of abandonment or depression didn’t catch up to her, that’s when the unexplained rages would kick in. Robbie, how long could you love someone like that? How long could you go on not knowing if she’d be dead that night, or throwing knives at you?”
“But Mike, there has to be someth…”
“Oh, I forgot the mania, Robbie. True, that won’t happen often now, but it will still happen. What are you going to do when you come home and see 6 new cars outside, and she explains she got them on sale, and is going to sell them for a profit? All your savings gone in one fell swoop?”
Mike glanced at Clyde and saw he had the mistiest, quietest of tears slowly coursing down his lined and gentle face. Mike looked and could have sworn that eerie dog was crying too. He felt like dog doo but it was better than letting his friend walk blind into something he didn’t understand.
After that, they just sat alone with their own thoughts.
Finally, Robert finished his original thought. “There has to be something we can do.”
Mike ran his hand through his hair. He’d done this since he was a kid when he was agitated or not sure what to say.
“You can support her for as long as she lasts and you remain sane. Other than that, I just don’t have any pearls of wisdom hiding up my sleeve on this one.”
He finally left, knowing he’d done what he could. After he got the car out of the driveway, he let his own tears flow, for his friend, for all the damaged people who were beyond fixing, for just how incredibly sad the world was sometimes.
The next day Robert stopped by his dad’s on his way to work. Carol was in the kitchen, drinking or at least holding a cup of coffee. Robert put on a big smile and said, “It would bring me a great deal of pleasure if you’d have dinner with me tonight.” He kept on that boyish, charming smile.
Carol seemed to ponder it for a minute, then smile a real smile. It was a smile that was so sunny, Robert felt like he needed sunglasses. He saw her eyes were indeed beautiful sparkling like this.
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do, Robert, especially since I kinda flaked out on you last night.”
Robert left whistling, and Clyde looked worriedly at him.
“Now Carol, Jones and me are just at the Humane Society a couple hours, so you make yourself at home and we’ll be back in a flash.” He smiled gently at her and prayed she wouldn’t be dead when he got back.
When he and Jones got home, he checked the mail as usual. There was a letter in the mailbox to Robert, but it hadn’t been mailed, just placed there. He tried to unlock the door hurriedly and dropped his keys the first time. When he finally got the door open, he screamed “Carol!”
After a couple of seconds his pulse started to slow. He didn’t know where she was, but he somehow knew she wasn’t here dead. He called Robert and said he thought he should come home for a little while. When Robert came in, fear etched in his face, Clyde just handed him the letter.
My Dearest Robert,
I hate to do this on such short notice, but I’ve been thinking of going to California to see my sister for so long, I decided on the spur of the moment to do it today. Please don’t be mad because it doesn’t have anything to do with you, I’ve just promised her for so long. I’ll call you as soon as I get back. Love to you, your dad and of course, super dog. I left you the lyrics to a song I really like because it settles me down when I’m being a drama queen.
All day, staring at the ceiling making friends with shadows on my wall
All night, hearing voices telling me that I should get some sleep because tomorrow might be good for something
Hold on, feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown, and I don't know why
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell and I know right now ya can't tell but stay a while and maybe then you'll see a different side of me
I'm not crazy I'm just a little impaired and I know right now, you don't care but soon enough you're gonna think of me and how I use to be
Me, talking to myself in public and dodging glances on the train
And I know, I know they've all been talking 'bout me cause I can hear them whisper and it makes me feel there must be something wrong, with me
Out of all the hours thinking somehow, I've lost my mind
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell and I know right now ya can't tell but stay a while and maybe then you'll see a different side of me
I'm not crazy I'm just a little impaired and I know right now, you don't care but soon enough you're gonna think of me and how I use to be
I've been talking in my sleep
Pretty soon they'll come to get me
Yeah, they're taking me away
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell and I know right now ya can't tell but stay a while and maybe then you'll see a different side of me
I'm not crazy I'm just a little impaired and I know right now, you don't care but soon enough you're gonna think of me and how I use to be
How I used to be, yeah how I used to be.
I'm just a little unwell
Yeah, how I used to be, how I use to be.
I'm just a little unwell.
Clyde smiled, glad that for once Mike didn’t know everything. The trip would probably do her good. He headed to the bathroom while Robert stood there with his ambivalent feelings. Robert would be okay.
As he was washing his hands he thought he’d ask Robert to buy that song if he could find it. Sounded catchy. He was humming something else when the premonition that there was something wrong hit him. He looked around puzzled, wondering why he felt that way. He shrugged and was turning to dry his hands when his blood turned to ice water. His razor was gone.
