“You mean, as if he cut through – ugh, as if he cut them apart? Jesus.”
“That is not all. There is – forgive me, but there is only a wound where one of his nipples should be. He has very bad abrasions on his legs, as if he has scrubbed them obsessively, until they are raw and scarred. Part of his earlobe is missing. A large part. And he has burns all over, quite deep. Perhaps a soldering iron or similar implement? Either this boy is very careless and accident prone, or he is hurting himself very savagely.”
“Well then, surely CPS can step in, have him taken away, hospitalised, put in care, anything!”
“I am afraid it is not so. There is no suggestion that the parents are hurting him. As long as they agree to take him to talk to a psychiatrist, the social worker thinks to move him would do more harm than good.”
“Well, the parents may not be the ones doing the cutting but they clearly aren’t doing a very good job of stopping it!” Carla massaged her forehead in frustration. “How long have we got until they arrive?”
“The parents? Probably twenty minutes. Half an hour maybe.”
“If he’s awake, I’d like to talk to him before they get here.”
Khalil nodded. “I’m sure that can be arranged. Come.”
He led the way into the ward and held a muttered conversation with the nurse in charge before beckoning Carla forward and ushering her towards the door of the boy’s room.
“His name is Gary. Gary Taub. Good luck!”
He knocked on the door and opened it for her without waiting for a response. Carla exhaled deeply and walked past him into the room.
Gary Taub was staring out of the rain-sprayed window, and did not turn to look at her as she entered. He looked very small in the big hospital bed, his arms spindly and emaciated against the crisply-turned sheets. Carla automatically made a mental note: ‘possible eating disorder’. It would at least fit with his history of presumed self-harm.
“Hello, Gary” she ventured, looking for a response. He ignored her. She waited a few seconds and tried again. “My name’s Carla. Is it OK if I sit down?”
The boy sighed pointedly and slowly turned his head to look at her. “Who are you?” he wanted to know. “Social worker?”
“No” replied Carla, gingerly taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’m a Doctor. Doctor Edwards. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions before your parents get here?”
Gary winced in annoyance. “I already told the other doctor everything. I was messin’ around with a blade, got a bit careless. No big deal.”
Carla decided to play it casual too. “Uh huh. So I hear. I was actually hoping to ask you about someone else though.”
That got his attention. He focussed his eyes on her properly for the first time. He looked tired. Exhausted, actually. The skin of his face was spattered with constellations of angry-looking blackheads – not too unusual in a teenager, Carla reminded herself. However, further down, on his throat, were what looked like self-inflicted wounds. Parallel scars, three on each side of his neck. Old, but badly healed by the look of them. Beneath them bulged visibly swollen lymph nodes. Did he have an infection? Or were they the result of excessive vomiting? Bulimia?
“You’re the woman I saw earlier. Who?” asked Gary, watching her intently from beneath lowered lids. “Who’d you want to ask me about?”
Carla gambled. “Your friend – RamRam.”
Gary immediately turned his face back to the window. “He’s dead. Car wreck.”
“I know” replied Carla, scooching a little further up the bed. “What I want to know is: why did they kill themselves?”
Gary looked back at her. His drowsy eyes were glistening as if he was about to cry. “How’d you know they killed themselves?”
“You don’t seem very surprised at the idea, so maybe the same way that you do.”
Gary passed a hand across his face and spoke without looking at her. “I know because Ramone told me. Told me they were going to. He wouldn’t let me go along with them.”
“Wouldn’t let you – are you saying that he told you what they were planning to do? Did he say why?”
“Din’t have to say why.” He looked back at Carla, searching for understanding, and finding it absent became annoyed. “For fuck’s sake, look at me! Look at any of us!” His remaining fingers scrunched and twisted the bedsheets as he spoke. “It’s not so bad for the others – they fucking look forward to it – but it’s not like we get given a choice! It’s not like we did something wrong, or something to deserve it, or that we’re out there praying for it with the rest of them. So, maybe we don’t want it, maybe we just want to be normal – not a fucking chance. RamRam—”
He swallowed and looked as though he wanted to stop talking, but the words came flooding out anyway. “RamRam wanted to take me with them. Wayne wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t like me cos of my mom being high-up in the Order, like it was my fault. Said I’d have to make my own arrangements. Said maybe I should do my mom in as well. So we said goodbye and Wayne went and stole the car – and they left me alone.”
Tears leaked down his pockmarked face and he let out an anguished, throaty sigh. Carla could feel a lump in her own throat. “Thing is” the boy continued, “I’m not as brave as them. But I know soon I won’t care enough to do it. In a few years I’ll be like the rest of them, sick in the head. So, why put it off? It’ll only get worse and worse until it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“We can help you!” interrupted Carla. “Whatever’s wrong we can get you help, people who understand, maybe treatment. You’ve obviously had a terrible time, losing your friends like that, but it’s not your fault. You aren’t to blame. Why don’t you stay here and let us get you the help you need?”
He laughed at that. “You gonna fix me right up, yeah? You’re not from ‘round here, are you doc? You wanna be careful.”
“I want to be careful? Why?”
“Just watch out for the Order is all. Just… don’t get involved.” He waved a hand, dismissively. “Leave me alone.”
Carla persisted. “You keep mentioning ‘the Order’. Is that the Order – what is it called… the Evangelical Order of David?”
Gary gave a derisive little snort. “Yeah, if you like.”
“I’ve seen their building, down near where I met you. You said your mother’s a member, right?”
Gary sat forward and grabbed hold of her sleeve. There was no derision in his voice when he spoke now. “Stay away from them. Just keep away, lady!” His small, black eyes stared into hers. “Leave Innsmouth alone. If they think you’re causing trouble, you’ll—”
The door of the room burst open so hard that its handle clattered against the thin partition wall. Behind it stood a hulking, middle-aged woman, dripping with rain water, her eyes slitted in fury. Carla rose apprehensively from the bed.
“Mom!” exclaimed Gary, in a strangled voice.
The woman stared around the room, taking in the surroundings, pausing briefly to evaluate Carla and finally coming to rest on the wretched figure in the bed. Her lip curled and she strode aggressively towards him. “Up!”
“Wait, Mrs Taub…” Carla laid a hand on the advancing woman’s arm. The woman came to an instant halt and her head snapped round, the belligerent stare now fixed on Carla’s face. Carla hurriedly removed her hand with a placatory, surrendering gesture. “I’m sorry. Your son has suffered a very serious injury, I don’t think—”
The woman ignored her, turned back to her son. “Up!” Gary sat up hurriedly and reached into the bedside cupboard for his shoes.