said, "No mail or calls yesterday and nothing yet
today. Get some rest," she dictated and walked out,
her footsteps echoing behind her. The great house
seemed to swallow every sound until it was terribly
silent.
I closed my eyes and then opened them and
looked up at the ceiling. I had dreamed of being
upstairs, returning to Grandmother Hudson's room. I
thought I'd feel safe and happy there again. This was
nothing like any sort of homecoming. I couldn't even
have the illusion of getting back to some normality.
Everything here and everything done for me was
constantly designed to remind me about who I was
and what I had become: an inmate, shifted from one
prison to another.
Of course. I was forever incarcerated in the
worst prison of all now. I thought, no matter where I
was at the time.
My own body.
In moments-- despite my determination to
prove Mrs. Bogart wrong-- I fell asleep exhausted. .
When I woke., I was surprised to discover I had
slept for over two hours. Almost as soon as my
eyelids fluttered open and I glanced at the clock. Mrs.
Bogart was in the room with a tray on which she had a
bowl of tomato soup and a toasted cheese sandwich. I
had to believe she was looking in on me continually
and knew I was stirring. How could I help but be
impressed with such attentiveness, despite her poor bedside manners? I was equally amazed by what she had brought me to eat. She saw that in my face
immediately.