J.R. Erickson
Calling Back the Dead
Author’s Note
Thanks so much for picking up a Northern Michigan Asylum Novel. I want to offer a disclaimer before you dive into the story. This is an entirely fictional novel. Although there was once a real place known as The Northern Michigan Asylum - which inspired me to write these books - it is in no way depicted within them. Although my story takes place there, the characters in this story are not based on any real people who worked at this asylum or were patients; any resemblance to individuals, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Likewise, the events which take place in the novel are not based on real events, and any resemblance to real events is also coincidental.
In truth, nearly every book I have read about the asylum, later known as the Traverse City State Hospital, was positive. This holds true for the stories of many of the staff who worked there as well. I live in the Traverse City area and regularly visit the grounds of the former asylum. It’s now known as The Village at Grand Traverse Commons. It was purchased in 2000 by Ray Minervini and the Minervini Group who have been restoring it since that time. Today, it’s a mixed-use space of boutiques, restaurants and condominiums. If you ever visit the area, I encourage you to visit The Village at Grand Traverse Commons. You can experience first-hand the asylums - both old and new - and walk the sprawling grounds.
PROLOGUE
1900
The Northern Michigan Asylum for the Insane
Ethel
“I don’t want to go,” Ethel begged, grabbing at her mother’s dress. Her mother pursed her lips and pried Ethel’s hands away.
“You’ve no choice, young lady. Now take your filthy hands from my skirt.”
Ethel’s father pulled her away from her mother and squatted to face her.
“It will be okay, Ethel. This is just for a little while. They’ll get you sorted, and you’ll be home in no time at all.”
Ethel looked at the towering buildings in the distance, the huge brick structures topped with pointed spires like something from a fairy story, but not a good one. This was an evil castle where a wicked witch lived.
“Please, Father,” she whispered, squeezing his hands until it hurt.
He stood and kissed her head, turning her toward the door. He nudged her forward, and she wanted to break away, run for the woods. If she escaped, they’d have to look for her, and then they’d be even angrier. Maybe they’d leave her at the hospital forever.
Finally, begrudgingly, she willed her feet forward. The tiny stones rolled beneath her flat shoes.
She studied the windows and saw faces peering down at her. They were dark and long.
“I’m scared,” she murmured, and her father squeezed her shoulder.
“You’re strong, Ethel, maybe too strong for your own good. There are other children here and doctors, wonderful doctors. You’ll see.”
They walked through double doors into a bright lobby with yellow walls.
Her father talked to a tall, slim nurse with curly red hair. She smiled kindly at Ethel, and a bit of Ethel’s fear slipped away. She heard children laughing. One of them screamed, but not from fear - from delight.
Ethel peeked around the corner into a large room. Kids of all ages ran back and forth. Some sat at tables, drawing and reading, while others huddled in groups on the floor playing with toys. They were strangers, these kids, but they wouldn’t be for long. Ethel knew how to make friends. In school, a group of children always followed her wondering what on earth Ethel would do next.
THE ORDERLY UNLOCKED the door and Ethel hurried into the bathroom, skidding to a stop on the icy tiles. She stared in horror at the toilet. Two dead rats floated in the water, their tails entwined. She backed up, shaking her head, and the orderly pressed a firm hand into her back.
“Just flush it, you silly child,” she snapped.
“But…” Ethel pointed a shaky finger at the toilet.
“They’re just rats, trapped in the night.” The orderly pushed her aside and strode to the toilet, pulling the chain hanging above it. The rats swirled and disappeared.
“Go,” the orderly barked.
Ethel sat on the cold toilet, legs trembling, squeezing her knees together to keep from looking into the watery bowl.
After she finished, she walked on wobbly legs back to the kids’ room. Another patient, a little girl called Eleanor, asked her to play, but Ethel shook her head no. She feared at any moment she might begin to cry and never stop.
ETHEL WOKE in her little room and clenched her blanket close. She had to pee, and stood before realizing she was not in her room at Kerry Manor, but in this square, cold room. Another little girl slept in a bed along the opposite wall. Ethel started toward the door, but something dark and oozy stood there blocking it. She saw glowing red eyes in its black, shapeless face. She crawled beneath her covers. She heard it drag across the floor and pause at her bedside. Its sour breath poured hot through her thin blanket. She tried not to move a muscle, but fear loosened her bladder and warm pee spread into the mattress beneath her.
“TAKE OFF YOUR NIGHTDRESS,” the orderly snapped.
She was a large woman with a face made severe by hair pulled so tightly in a bun it stretched the skin of her forehead and cheekbones.
Ethel glanced down the hall where other kids stood - some watching, others adrift in their own thoughts.
“I’ll be naked,” she whispered.
“And that’s what happens when you wet the bed,” the orderly said, pointing an accusing finger at a pile of linen with a visible yellow stain.
Ethel’s face grew warm.
“Take off your nightdress, now!” the woman snarled.
“I won’t,” Ethel said, gritting her teeth.
Before she could react, the orderly shoved Ethel’s head down, grabbed the bottom of her nightgown, and wrenched it over her head.
Ethel crossed her arms over her chest, turning away from the hall of kids.
“Those too,” the woman hissed, pointing at her underpants.
Ethel shook her head and when the woman grabbed her arm, Ethel leaned down and bit her as hard as she could.
The orderly howled and shoved Ethel to the ground.
Another woman ran into the corridor, and together they lifted Ethel, kicking and screaming, and carried her down the hall to the seclusion room.
“Noooo,” Ethel raged, kicking hard at the other woman, who was smaller with blonde hair tucked under a white cap. Her heel connected with the woman’s jaw, and she cried out but held on to Ethel’s wriggling legs.
They left her on the bed, naked and shivering. She wanted to go home, but when she thought of home and her parents sitting warm by the fire, she hated them. She hated them for sending her away.
“HELLO, ETHEL. HOW ARE YOU TODAY?” The doctor squatted down and smiled at her, revealing two rows of overly large teeth.
He reminded Ethel of her cousin’s horse, Patriot, and she tried not to laugh.
“Nurse Jenson told me you wet the bed again last night?”
Ethel frowned and bit her lip.
“I’m scared to walk to the bathroom,” she whispered.