chapter 1
Before I get the news about Elouise I am on a roll with a full on battle plan to thwart my overpowered TRD- treatment resistant depression. I roll out of bed and pull on a skirt over leggings I went to sleep in, along with a sports bra and very wrinkled t-shirt and hoodie. I walk ten paces to my studio kitchen, eat some cheez-its and almonds and chase them down with a half can of pink lemonade energy drink. The almonds are doctor recommended, apparently they may or may not slow the atrophying of my depressed brain.
I pull on my clunky boots, a pair I wear from fall to spring until the snow melts. They probably need some frogger spray and may not the best choice since these April days tend to warm up to unexpected temperatures. My plan is to make it to this contemporary worship church a ten minute walk from my building. I am not a believer, but boy can that Christian Rock band make a woman want to live.
I take that step out the door, that crucial brave step into a world full of functioning people. I always remind myself that birds exist. Birds don’t scan my outfit or hair or look away if they recognize me. Locals know to avoid me because the conversation usually takes a nose dive after hello, when my mind goes completely blank. Or because they know or suspect I have a mental illness. Birds don’t give a shit about your social anxiety or psychiatric history and hang around anyway.
I am in the doorway when my hand bag with a duct taped strap begins to buzz and Celine Dion’s voice climbs up from its depths and through the zipper, her angelic voice singing the lyric “ A New Day Has Come,” along with the “ ahhh, ahhh” melodic part which always hits me like pure sunshine.
Odin is calling. Weird, we just wellness checked each other yesterday.
The process of extracting the phone from my bag is makes me mumble to Celine “ A New Day may be here, but my new brain and dexterity boost certainly have not.” I finally feel the smooth rectangular shape and answer, immediately putting it on speakerphone and trudge down the stairs holding it like a slice of pizza.
“Odin! You ok?”
His soft voice comes through the speaker. “ Me? Oh yeah. But Elouise is missing. Stella just called asking if I know anything.”
“ How much time?”
“Three days.”
“Shit.”
“ Stella says Greta is assuming the worst.” Odin’s voice takes on a weight that makes my heart sink. Greta is Elouise’s partner of twenty years. Stella is a pharmacist and Elouise is her favorite customer.
“ Does Greta know about our pact that has been secured with unbreakable bonds?”
“ She may, but it makes sense for her to be worried, George.”
The pact is a three way promise to stay alive. And I am not worried. Because this promise is the only thing I believe in, it is magic and faith and everything to me.
Odin, Elouise, and Georgia. Staying alive despite powerful internal demons, societal ostracization, and loneliness. We barely get by most days, but we STAY ALIVE. We don’t disappear.
Elouise’s disappearance isn’t due to her mental health, Elouise’s disappearance is a mystery. And it needs to be solved.
chapter 2
Elouise is a sparkler: golden, sizzling, fiery. Not someone meant to be confined. Yet that is where I met her: in a psychiatric ward, walking laps past rooms with heavy supervision.
As I approached her I noticed she placed her feet in the center of each sanitized tile, the abrasive lights buzzed above us.
She stopped directly in-front of me and looked up at me, her long massacred lashes and green eyes reminding me of unfurling ferns in the spring. I estimated she must be in her forties and under five feet tall, her dark skin contrasting with braided silver hair resting in an outrageously large donut sized bun atop her head.
“Well aren’t you just pure sunshine!” She exclaimed. “Join me for laps! My nurse Angie says 13 laps is a mile here and that it will to do wonders for the spirit.” She rolled her eyes a little. “ I usually find relief for a few minutes, then it’s back to my shitty brain labyrinth. I’m Elouise and and you are…”
“Georgia.” I mumbled, falling into step with her.
“Oh Georgia what a lovely name. Makes me think of peaches. I love that pink in your hair, and your aura… oh my…what a glow! You may not know it but I see it clearly. My lord, it’s there and it’s luminous.”
I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. My brain quickly dismissed every compliment and I wondered if I should escape this toxic positivity. I could lie about feeling dizzy and needing my vitals checked. I was a nobody, with no aspirations and no talent who had just failed to off herself for the third time. I was a black hole, not sunshine.
Elouise smiled sadly, “I know exactly what your brain is telling you. It’s a glitch in my brain too.”
“ How…” I stuttered. “ How are you so… positive?”
“ It’s always easy for me to see the bright side everywhere but within…” Elouise said, expression darkening. She shook her head and then started… skipping. Oh boy, I should have gotten my vitals checked. But instead I am baffled by my own body as it moved to a skip alongside her. The grips on my hospital socks were a bit of a joy kill as they clutched the floor after each foot fall.
Elouise let out a small laugh. “They have a strange sense of style here, very blue, very minimal. As soon as I get out I am going to see how these socks look in my strappy pumps and I’ll fashion a mini skirt from these scrubs. It’ll be so hot. My wife will give me that “look” and drag me to bed immediately. “
I guffaw. And then immediately start coughing, shocked by my own laughter.
“See we’re still capable of life with laughter, even here.” Elouise said softly. “It’s so hard to remember it’s possible.”
“Maybe with someone like you around.” I responded.
“ I’ll be a little manic fairy of positivity for as long as I can, darling. And when I can’t, we can search for another source of light together.”
A tear tumbled down my cheek, wet and unfamiliar. And I daresay I felt something like…hope.
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