“She needs something simpler than that,” the nurse says to the woman attending me. “Some fruit, bread, or cheese.”
“No fruit,” I say, shaking my head. I’ll take the bread or cheese. I need to keep my energy up, goddamnit.
“Get your hands off me,” I say to the nurse when she takes my pulse. “You people took Cy, and I want him back.”
It sounds insane, like I’m some kind of lunatic, and I’m a little concerned that if I fly off the handle too badly, they’ll do something like restrain or medicate me. Then how would I find him?
The nurse purses her lips and speaks gently, though her voice is tight. “I have to take your vitals. It’s only common sense. And do I really look like I took a man? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I glare at her but let her take my pulse with reluctance. I need to at least overtly cooperate.
“She keeps asking for someone named Cy,” one woman says in a stage whisper to the other. “But there was no one else with her when she came aboard the ship.”
Do they want me to think I’m out of my mind? That I’m hallucinating?
“There was a man with me,” I say, my voice wobbly yet loud enough to be heard. I want to cry so badly there’s a lump in my throat and my nose tingles. “The same man I was stranded on the island with.”
The nurse nods and gets to her feet. “Her vitals are good. She needs some proper nutrition, but she’ll recover quickly.”
No. No I will fucking not if they insist that I’m insane and Cy isn’t with me.
“Fuck my vitals,” I say with growing anger. “I want to know what you did with Cy.”
The nurse shakes her head to a man in a uniform, and they speak in hushed voices. It isn’t until then that it dawns on me how much danger I’m in.
I don’t know who these people are. I don’t know where they’re taking me. I have to keep my sanity, and the more I press the issue of Cy, the harder that will be.
They had something to do with me being on the island.
Or did they? Who are they, anyway? Are the people with me now actors? Or are they innocents in all this?
I decide to keep my mouth closed and listen more than speak. I’m on this boat and once I get a handle on things, I can look for Cy. I have to. Oh, God. A pang hits my chest, and I swallow hard to avoid crying. How could I have lost him? I can’t believe after all this he’s gone from me. It feels almost too much to bear, as if the very act of breathing is harder without him.
I try to stay calm. Normal.
What would a normal woman do under these circumstances? How do they expect me to act?
“How is my brother?” I ask. “Does anyone have a phone?”
The nurse or whoever she is, is writing things down, and she’s patting my arm with condescension. “Try to relax,” she says. “Your blood pressure is very high, and I’m sure it’s because you’re distressed. Take a deep breath and try to bring it down.”
“Of course, it’s high,” I tell her, snatching the cuff and yanking it off my arm. “You—they—” I close my mouth and take a deep breath in. No. I can’t fly off the handle. It’s almost as if I can hear Cy in my head, reminding me not to lose my shit.
“Good, just like that,” she says, attempting to put the cuff back on, but I slap it away.
“Leave me alone. Does anyone have a phone?”
“Yes, of course,” one of the women who’s been attending me says.
“What’s your name?” I ask her. She’s a tall, thin woman with dark brown curly hair and a thin, pointy nose. She wears a pressed uniform and plain black flats, and she looks a little like a stewardess or a vintage housewife. But the way she looks away and doesn’t meet my eyes tells me she’s guilty.
She’ll be my in.
“Lila,” she says with a smile. “I’ll get you a phone.”
A few minutes later, a slender smartphone sits in the palm of my hand. My hands tremble when I get the phone. How I’ve fantasized about just this, being able to actually communicate with the outside world again. Who do I call? Will anyone remember me?
I want to call Cy, damnit, but of course I can’t. Oh, God, how I want to call him, though. Where is he?
Are the phone calls being tapped?
With shaking fingers, I dial Arianna. I’m glad it’s one of the few numbers I know by heart. The caretaker for my brother, she’s the one who will know how he’s doing. But the phone just rings and rings, and no one answers.