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I could see Dr. Nicholas actually considering it, which was shocking.
“Maybe it’d help me remember where I came from,” I added.
He probably didn’t believe me, but he’d known me for years and he’d still never gotten what he wanted out of me.
“I’ll speak to Dr. Klein,” he said.
CHAPTER 53
Jordan is in the break room, choking down a sawdusty nutrition bar, when one of the Belman therapists comes in looking for him. The man, who is soft and gray-looking, sits down at the table across from Jordan. Jordan quickly turns his phone facedown. He’d been reading about an asteroid due to pass by close to Earth; the first link he clicked said it would provide a fascinating chance to observe an interstellar phenomenon, and the second said it was going to do to human life what the Cenozoic asteroid did to the dinosaurs.Kaboom!
“I’m Dr. Nicholas,” the man says. “Staff psychologist.” He doesn’t hold out his hand.
“I’m Jordan,” he says. “Columbia student.”
“I know.” He pushes his glasses farther up on his nose. “I spoke with Hannah this morning. And Dr. Klein.”
Jordan breaks off a piece of the nutrition bar but doesn’t put it in his mouth. “Okay,” he says neutrally.
“We think it could be beneficial if you took Hannah outside,” Dr. Nicholas says.
“I actually did that,” Jordan says. “We took a walk around the grounds.”It was kind of awkward.
“I’m talking about going into the city,” Dr. Nicholas says.
“Oh,” says Jordan. “Wow.” It’s hardly an eloquent response, but to call the prospect nerve-racking is an understatement. Jordan can already picture it: Hannah, suddenly overcome by one of her episodes, sprints away from him, he loses her in the crowd, and then after hours of searching he has to go back to the hospital without its favorite patient. “Yeah, sorry, you guys, she slipped her leash.” Say good-bye to the internship, to the scholarship he’s applying for, to the résumé he’s been trying to build since age sixteen.
“I’ve been through sessions with her countless times,” Dr. Nicholas goes on, “and we can’t seem to break new ground. Frankly, I’ve never met anyone who seems to want my help less. We’re not making progress here, and a big part of your program is for interns to engage with the patients in constructive ways. It doesn’t get more constructive than this.”
“Why do you think going into the city would be a good idea?” Jordan asks.
“I think she grew up here,” Dr. Nicholas says. “I think if she were from anywhere else, some geographical point would have come up in conversation—even if it was by mistake. But it’s nothing but Manhattan and some goddamn castle. I can’t send you to Europe or wherever the hell she thinks she lives, but I can send you into the city.” Dr. Nicholas watches Jordan crumble his bite of nutrition bar into chalky dust. “Walking helps people talk, did you know that? Sometimes when people aren’t looking at each other, they find it easier to share things.”
Jordan nods. Probably the deepest conversations he ever had with his mother were when they were driving in the car together. Not that they’d been that deep, but at least they’d gotten pastquestions about his weekend plans or his SAT scores. “What do you think Hannah might share with me?” Jordan asks.
“If she shares anything at all, then that’s more than what I’m getting from her in our sessions.” Dr. Nicholas sighs. He looks exhausted. “Most patients diagnosed with schizophrenia hear voices, you know, and these voices tell them the most terrible things. They might come from passersby, or cars, or radios, and the person who hears them can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. And this confusion persists for weeks or months. Whereas Hannah cycles in and out of lucidity extremely quickly.”
“And when she’s with us, she’s not delusional at all.”
“Exactly. She doesn’t think people are whispering about her, or that she’s being controlled by microchips the government planted in her brain. She seems perfectly fine.”
“It’s just like she goes into this awful fairy tale sometimes,” Jordan says. “As if this other life is a book she’s reading.”
“But it’s a book that doesn’t exist,” Dr. Nicholas says.
“I know.” Jordan has looked up those barons Hannah talks about, and he hasn’t found any historical record. It doesn’t mean that they never existed, but it does make them seem extra imaginary.
Sometimes he wonders if it’d be easier if she just thought the CIA was spying on her. After all, it was a delusion that everyone was familiar with.
But what if, by taking her outside of the hospital, he could find out something about her past? Something that would give them a clue about her other, nonhallucinatory life?
“Is there any place I should take her?” Jordan says.
Dr. Nicholas smiles. “No. But whatever you do, don’t take her to Times Square. And Jordan? Don’t pretend that you knowanything about her illness, because you don’t. You’re a sophomore in college, and you know nothing at all. You’re just someone she seems to trust.”
Jordan says, “Right. Thanks.” He hopes he managed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“I’m sorry that I’m not here to tell you that you have any special talents. But Hannah likes you, and Hannah needs an ally.” Dr. Nicholas stands up. “I apologize for interrupting your … lunch,” he says, looking with mild disgust at Jordan’s bar.
